 |
[Sidenote: Discontents of the people.]
It was expected that charges would be immediately brought against him, and that he would be at once arraigned for trial. But the excitement which the affair had created was increased to a ten-fold degree by the tidings which were circulated a few days afterward that he was dead. The story was that he was found dead one morning in his prison. People, however, were slow to believe this statement. They thought that he had been poisoned, or put to death in some other violent manner. The officers of the government declared that it was not so; and, in order to convince the people that the duke had died a natural death, they caused the body to be exposed to public view for several days before they allowed it to be interred, in order that all might see that it bore no marks of violence.
The people were, however, not satisfied. They thought that there were many ways by which death might be produced without leaving any outward indications of violence upon the person. They persisted in believing that their favorite had been murdered.
[Sidenote: 1449.]
[Sidenote: Supposed mode of his death.]
One account which was given of the mode of death was that Somerset went to visit him in his prison in the Tower, in order to see whether he could not come to some terms with him but that Gloucester rejected his advances with so much pride and scorn that a furious altercation arose, in the course of which Somerset, with the assistance of men whom he had brought with him, strangled or suffocated the unhappy prisoner on his couch, and then, after arranging his limbs and closing his eyes, so as to give him the appearance of being in a state of slumber, his murderers went away and left him, to be found in that condition by the jailer when he should come to bring him his food.
CHAPTER XI.
THE FALL OF SUFFOLK.
[Sidenote: Two years pass away.]
After the death of the Duke of Gloucester, Queen Margaret was plunged in a perfect sea of plots, schemes, manoeuvres, and machinations of all sorts, which it would take a volume fully to unravel. This state of things continued for two years, during which time she became more and more involved in the difficulties and complications which surrounded her, until at last she found herself in very serious trouble. I can only here briefly allude to the more prominent sources of her perplexity.
[Sidenote: Suspicions of the people.]
[Sidenote: Their hearts alienated.]
In the first place, the people of England were very seriously displeased at the treatment which Gloucester had received. They would not believe that he died a natural death, and the impression gained ground very generally that the queen was the cause of his being murdered. They did not suppose that she literally ordered him to be put to death, but that she gave hints or intimations, as royal personages were accustomed to do in such cases in those days, on which some zealous and unscrupulous follower ventured to act, certain of pleasing her. As Gloucester had been a general favorite with the nation, these rumors and suspicions tended greatly to alienate the hearts of the people from the queen. Many began to hate her. They called her the French woman, and vented their ill-will in obscure threats and mutterings.
[Sidenote: Reverses in France.]
[Sidenote: Feeling in England.]
This feeling of hostility to the queen was increased by the very unfortunate turn that things were taking in France about this time. The provinces of Maine and Anjou lay directly to the south of Normandy,[10] which last was the most valuable of the possessions which the English crown held in France, and these two provinces had been given up to the French at the time of Margaret's marriage. It was only on condition that the English would give them up that Lord Suffolk could induce Margaret's father to consent to the match. Suffolk was extremely unwilling to surrender these provinces. He knew that the English nobles and people would be very much dissatisfied as soon as they learned that it was done, and he feared that he might at some future day be called to account for having been concerned in the transaction. But the king was so deeply in love with Margaret that he insisted on Suffolk's complying with the terms which were exacted by her friends, and the provinces were ceded.
[Footnote 10: See map at the commencement of the volume.]
[Sidenote: York regent in France.]
The Duke of York was regent in France at that time, but Margaret felt some uneasiness in respect to his position there. He was the representative and heir of the rival line; and while it was for her interest to give him prominence enough under Henry's government to prevent his growing discontented and desperate, it was not good policy to exalt him to too high a position. She was accordingly somewhat at a loss to decide what to do.
[Sidenote: Somerset.]
Soon after the death of Gloucester, Somerset, finding that he was an object of suspicion, felt himself to be in danger, and he proposed to Margaret that he should retire into Normandy for a time. Margaret suggested that he should take the regency of Normandy in the Duke of York's stead. To this he finally consented. The Duke of York was recalled, and Somerset went to take command of Normandy in his stead.
[Sidenote: Suffolk's intentions.]
[Sidenote: Exposed frontier.]
At the time that Suffolk negotiated the marriage contract between Henry and Margaret, a truce had been made with the King of France, as has already been stated. Suffolk intended and hoped to conclude a permanent peace, but he could not succeed in accomplishing this. The King of France, as soon as the marriage was fairly carried into effect, seemed bent on renewing hostilities, and as he had now the territories of Maine and Anjou in his possession, with all the castles and fortresses which those provinces contained, he could advance to the frontiers of Normandy on that side with great facility, and organize expeditions for invading the country in the most effective manner.
[Sidenote: Pretext for war.]
He now only wanted a pretext, and a pretext in such cases is always soon found. A certain company of soldiers, who had been dismissed from some place in Maine in consequence of the cession of that province to France, instead of going across the frontier into Normandy to join the English forces there, as they ought to have done, went into Brittany, another French province near, and there organized themselves into a sort of band of robbers, and committed acts of plunder. The King of France complained of this to Somerset, for this was after Somerset had assumed the command as regent, or governor of Normandy. Somerset admitted the facts, and proposed to pay damages. The king named a sum so great that Somerset could not or would not pay it, and so war was again declared.
[Sidenote: Invasion of Normandy.]
In consequence of the advantages which the King of France enjoyed in having possession of Maine, he could organize his invading army in a very effective manner. He crossed the frontier in great force, and after taking a number of towns and castles, and defeating the English army in several battles, he at last drove Somerset into Rouen, the capital of the province—a very ancient and remarkable town—and shut him up there.
After a short siege Rouen was compelled to capitulate, and, besides giving up Rouen, Somerset was obliged to surrender several other important castles and towns in order to obtain his own liberty.
[Sidenote: Normandy lost.]
Things went on in this way during the year 1449, from bad to worse, until finally the whole of Normandy was lost. The town of Cherbourg, which has lately become so renowned on account of the immense naval and military works which have been constructed there, was the last retreat and refuge of the English, and even from this they were finally expelled.
[Sidenote: Rage of the English people.]
[Sidenote: The minister responsible.]
The people of England were in a great rage. The principal object of their resentment was Lord Suffolk, who was now the first minister and the acknowledged head of the government. During the progress of the difficulties with Gloucester, Margaret had kept him a great deal in the background, in order that the public might not associate him with those transactions, nor hold him in any way responsible for them, though there was no doubt that he was the queen's confidential friend and counselor through the whole. After the death of Gloucester he had been gradually brought forward, and he had now, for some time, been the acknowledged minister of the crown, and as such responsible, according to the theory of the British Constitution and to the ideas of Englishmen, for every thing that was done, and especially for every thing like misfortune and disaster which occurred.
[Sidenote: Suffolk in danger.]
There was, of course, a great outcry raised against Suffolk, and also, more covertly, against the queen, who had brought Suffolk into power. All the mischief originated, too, people said, in the luckless marriage of Margaret to the king, and the cession of Maine and Anjou to the French as the price of it. The French would never have been able to have penetrated into Normandy had it not been for the advantage they gained in the possession of those provinces on the frontier.
[Sidenote: Guienne.]
There were still large possessions held by the English in the southwestern part of France on the Garonne. The capital of this territory, which was the celebrated province of Guienne, was Bordeaux,[11] a large and important city in those days as now. It stands on the bank of the river where it begins to widen toward the sea, and thus it was accessible to the English in their ships as well as when coming with their armies by land. It was a place of great strength as well as of commanding position, being provided with castles and towers to defend it from the landward side, and thick walls and powerful batteries along the margin of the water.
[Footnote 11: See map.]
[Sidenote: Bordeaux lost.]
Suffolk did all in his power to raise and send off re-enforcements to the army in Guienne, but it was in vain. The English were driven out of one town and castle after another, until, at last, Bordeaux itself fell, and all was lost.
[Sidenote: Excitement in England.]
The resentment and rage of the people of England now knew no bounds. Suffolk was universally denounced as the author of all these dire calamities. Lampoons and satires were written against him; he was hooted sometimes by the populace of London when he appeared in the streets, and every thing portended a gathering storm. At length, in the fall of 1449, a Parliament was summoned. When it was convened, Suffolk appeared in the House of Lords as usual, and, rising in his place, he called the attention of the peers to the angry and vindictive denunciations which were daily heaped upon him by the public, declaring that he was wholly ignorant of the crimes which were laid to his charge, and challenging his enemies to bring forward any proof to sustain their accusations.
[Sidenote: Braving the storm.]
A spirit of bold defiance like this might have been successful in some cases, perhaps, in driving back the tide of hostility and hate which was rising so rapidly, but in this instance it seemed to have the contrary effect. The enemies of Suffolk in the House of Commons took up the challenge at once. They were strong enough to carry the house with them. They passed an address to the peers, requesting them to cause Suffolk to be arrested and imprisoned. They would, they said, immediately bring forward the proofs of his guilt.
[Sidenote: Accusations made.]
The Lords replied that they could not arrest and imprison one of their number except upon specific charges made against him. Whereupon the Commons very promptly prepared a list of charges and sent them to the Lords. On this accusation the Lords ordered Suffolk to be arrested, and he was sent to the Tower.
[Sidenote: An impeachment.]
[Sidenote: Suffolk in the Tower.]
During the two months that succeeded his arrest his enemies were busily engaged in preparing the bill of impeachment against him in form, and collecting the evidence by which they were to sustain it, while the queen was equally earnest and anxious in the work of contriving means to save him. She visited him secretly, it is said, in his prison, and conferred with him on the plan to be pursued. They seem to have been both convinced that it was impossible for him to remain in England and ride out the storm. The only course of safety would be for him to leave the country for a while, provided the means could be devised for getting him away. What the plan was which they agreed upon for accomplishing this purpose will appear in the sequel.
[Sidenote: He is arraigned.]
[Sidenote: Suffolk's defense.]
[Sidenote: He appeals to the king.]
At length, on the thirteenth of March, he was summoned before the House of Lords, and the bill of impeachment was brought forward. There were a great many charges, beginning with that of having wickedly and with corrupt motives surrendered, and so lost forever to the crown, the provinces of Maine and Anjou, and going on to numerous accusations of malfeasance in office, of encroachments on the prerogatives of the king, and of acts in which the interest and honor of the country had been sacrificed to his own personal ambition or private ends. Suffolk defended himself in a general speech, without, however, demanding, as he was entitled to do, a formal trial by his peers. These proceedings occupied several days—as long as any lingering hope remained in Suffolk's mind of his being able to stem the torrent. At length, however, on the seventeenth of March, finding that the pressure against him was continually increasing, and that there would be no chance of an acquittal if he were to claim a trial, he appealed to the king to decide his case, saying that, though he was entirely innocent of the crimes charged against him, he would submit himself entirely to his majesty's will.
[Sidenote: Sentence of banishment.]
In response to this appeal, the king declared, through the proper officer, in the House of Lords, that he would not decide upon the question of the guilt or innocence of the accused, since he had not demanded a trial, but he thought it best, under all the circumstances of the case, that Suffolk should leave the country. He therefore issued a decree of banishment against him for five years. He was required to leave England before the first of May, and not to put his foot upon any English soil until the five years were expired.
[Sidenote: The people enraged.]
[Sidenote: A riot.]
The Lords were much displeased at having the affair thus taken out of their hands. They made a formal protest against this decision, but they could do nothing more. The people, too, were very much enraged. They declared that Suffolk should never leave London alive; and on the day when they expected that he was to be taken from the Tower to be conveyed to France, a mob of two thousand men collected in the streets, resolved to kill him.
[Sidenote: Suffolk escapes by sea.]
But the queen devised means for enabling him to evade them. Some of his servants and followers were seized, but he succeeded in making his escape, and, after going to his castle in the country, and making some hurried arrangements there, he went down to the sea-coast at Ipswich, a town in the eastern part of the island, and there embarked for France in a vessel which the queen had taken the precaution to have ready there for him.
[Sidenote: Suffolk made prisoner again.]
The vessel immediately sailed, steering to the southward, of course, toward the Straits of Dover. As she was passing through the Straits, between Dover and Calais, a man-of-war named the Nicholas of the Tower, hove in sight, coming up to the vessel just as they were sending a boat on shore at Calais to inquire whether Suffolk would be allowed to land there. The boat was intercepted. At the same time, a boat from the man-of-war came on board the vessel, bringing officers who were instructed to search her thoroughly. Of course, they found Suffolk on board, and the officer, as soon as Suffolk was discovered, informed him that he must go with him on board the man-of-war.
Suffolk had no alternative but to obey. The captain of the man-of-war received him, as he stepped upon the deck, with the words, I am glad to see you, traitor, or something to that effect. Such a salutation must have plainly indicated to Suffolk what was before him. The man-of-war moved toward the English shore, and began to make signals to some parties on the land. She remained there for two days, exchanging signals in this way from time to time, and apparently awaiting orders.
[Sidenote: His execution in a boat.]
At length, on the third day, a boat came off from the shore, provided with every thing that was necessary for the execution of a criminal. There was a platform with a block upon it, an axe, or cleaver of some sort, and an executioner. Suffolk was conveyed on board the boat, and there, with very little ceremony, his head was laid upon the block, and the executioner immediately commenced his task of severing it from the body. But, either from the unsteadiness of the boat, or the unsuitableness of the instrument, or the clumsiness of the operator, five several blows were required before the bloody deed was done.
[Sidenote: Disposal of the body.]
The boat immediately proceeded to the shore. The men on board threw out the dissevered remains upon the beach, and then went away.
Some friends of Suffolk, hearing what had been done, came down to the beach, and, finding the separate portions of the body lying in the sand where they had been thrown, placed them reverently together again, and gave them honorable burial.
CHAPTER XII.
BIRTH OF A PRINCE.
[Sidenote: 1453.]
After the death of Suffolk the queen was plunged into a sea of anxious perplexities and troubles, which continued to disturb the kingdom and to agitate her mind, until at length, in 1453, eight or nine years after her marriage, she gave birth to a son. This event, strange as it may seem, aggravated the difficulties of her situation in a ten-fold degree.
[Sidenote: Margaret in great trouble.]
[Sidenote: The policy in respect to the Duke of York.]
The reason why the birth of her child increased her troubles was this. It has already been said that the Duke of York claimed to be the rightful sovereign of England on account of being descended from an older branch of the royal family; but that, since Henry was established upon the throne, he was inclined to make no attempt to assert his claims so long as it was understood that he was to receive the kingdom at Henry's death. In order to keep him contented in this position, it had been Margaret's policy to treat him with great consideration, and to bestow upon him high honors, but, at the same time, to watch him very closely, and to avoid conferring upon him any such substantial power within the realm of England as would enable him to attempt to seize the throne. She accordingly gave him the regency of France, and afterward, when she recalled him from that country in order to send Somerset there, she sent him to Ireland.
[Sidenote: Somerset's return to England.]
After the death of Suffolk, Somerset came home from France. Indeed, he was on his way home at the very time that Suffolk was killed, the English possessions there having been almost entirely lost. As soon as he returned, the queen received him into high favor at court, and soon made him the chief minister of the crown. The people of the country were displeased at this, and soon showed marks of great discontent. They would very likely have risen in open rebellion had it not been that Henry's health was so feeble, and the probability was so great that he would die without issue—in which case the crown would devolve peacefully to the Duke of York and his heirs.
[Sidenote: The people willing to wait.]
"Let us wait," said they, "for a short time, and it will all come right. It is better to bear the evils of this state of things a little longer than to plunge the country into the horrors of civil war in attempting to change the dynasty by force before Henry dies."
[Sidenote: Two parties formed.]
[Sidenote: The nobles.]
[Sidenote: The two leaders.]
In the mean time, however, although this was so far the prevailing public sentiment as to prevent an actual outbreak, it did not by any means save the community from being unnecessarily agitated by anxieties and fears lest an outbreak should take place, nor did it prevent innumerable plots and conspiracies being formed tending to produce one. The country was divided into two great parties—those that favored the Duke of York and his dynasty, and those who adhered to the house of Lancaster. The nobles took sides in the quarrel, some openly and others in secret. As these nobles were continually moving to and fro from one castle to another, or between the country and London, at the head of armed bodies of men more or less formidable, no one could tell what plans were being formed, or how soon an explosion might occur. The Duke of York was, of course, the head and leader of one side, and the Duke of Somerset, as the confidential counselor and minister of Henry and the queen, was the most prominent on the other side, and each of these great leaders regarded the other with feelings of mortal enmity.
This state of things kept both the king and queen in continual anxiety. The queen began to find that, by her manoeuvrings and management, she had involved herself in difficulties that were beyond her control, and the poor king was so harassed by his troubles and perplexities that his health, and, at last, his mind, began to suffer severely.
[Sidenote: The Duke of York comes to England.]
At length the Duke of York, without permission from the government, crossed the Channel from Ireland and landed in England. He soon collected a large armed force, and began to move across the country toward London. The government were much alarmed. He professed not to have any hostile object in view, and declared that he still acknowledged his allegiance to the Lancaster line; but there were no means of being sure that this was not a mere pretext, and that he might not, at any time, throw off his mask and rise in open rebellion.
[Sidenote: The roses.]
[Sidenote: Origin of these symbols.]
It was about this time that the famous symbols of the red and the white rose were chosen as the badges of the houses respectively of York and Lancaster, as has already been mentioned. The story goes that at a certain time, while several nobles and persons of the court were walking in what is called the Temple Garden, a piece of open and ornamental ground on the bank of the river in London, Somerset and Warwick, who were on different sides in this quarrel, gathered, the one a white, and the other a red rose, and proposed to the rest of the company to pluck roses too, each according to his own feelings and opinions. From this beginning the two colors became the permanent badge of the two lines, so much so that artificial roses of red and white were manufactured in great numbers at last, to supply the soldiers of the respective armies.
[Sidenote: An expedition.]
[Sidenote: Anxiety of the king.]
But to return to the Duke of York. When it was found that he was advancing toward London, Somerset urged the king to put himself at the head of a body of troops and go out to meet him, and call him to account for his proceedings. The king did so, the queen accompanying the expedition. She was very anxious, and felt much alarmed for the safety of the king. After various marchings and manoeuvrings, the two armies came near each other in the county of Kent, to the southeastward of London. King Henry, who was eminently a man of peace, being possessed of no warlike qualities whatever, and being extremely averse to the shedding of blood, instead of attacking the Duke of York, sent a messenger to him to know what his intentions were in coming into the country at the head of such a force, and what he desired.
[Sidenote: Professions.]
The duke replied that he had no designs against the king, but only against the traitor Somerset, and he said that if the king would order Somerset to be arrested and brought to trial, he should be satisfied, and would disband his forces.
[Sidenote: An appointment]
The king, on receiving this message, was much troubled and perplexed, but at length he concluded, under the advice of some of his counselors, to comply with this demand. He caused Somerset to be arrested, and notified the Duke of York that he had done so. The Duke of York then disbanded his army, or at least sent the troops away, and made an appointment to come unattended and visit the king in his tent, with a view to conferring with him on the terms and conditions of a permanent reconciliation.
[Sidenote: Somerset concealed.]
This interview resulted in a very extraordinary scene. It seems that the queen had contrived the means of secretly releasing Somerset after his arrest, and bringing him by stealth to the king's pavilion, and concealing him there behind the arras at the time the Duke of York was to be admitted, in order that he, Somerset, might be a witness of the interview. While he was thus secreted, the Duke of York came in. He commenced his conference with the king by repeating earnestly what he said before, namely, that he had not been actuated in what he had done by any feeling of hostility against the king, but only against Somerset. His sole object in taking up arms, he said, was that that arch traitor might be brought to punishment.
[Sidenote: Scene in the tent.]
[Sidenote: Fierce altercation.]
[Sidenote: The Duke of York imprisoned.]
On hearing these words, Somerset could contain himself no longer, but, to the astonishment of the Duke of York and to the utter consternation of the king, he rushed out from his hiding-place, and began to assail the duke with the most violent reproaches, alleging that his pretensions of friendship for Henry were false, and that the real design of his movements was to usurp the throne. The duke retorted with equally fierce denunciations and threats. During the continuance of this altercation, the king remained stupefied and speechless, and at length, when the duke retired, officers were ready at the door to arrest him, having been stationed there by the queen.
[Sidenote: Released.]
He was held a prisoner, however, but a short time, for his son, who afterward became Edward IV., immediately commenced raising an army to come and release him. It was considered, for other reasons, dangerous to attempt to hold such a man in durance, since probably more than half the kingdom were on his side. So he was offered his liberty on condition that he would take the new and solemn oath of fealty to the king.
This he consented to do, and the oath was taken with great ceremony in St. Paul's Cathedral, and then he was dismissed. He went off to one of his castles in the country, muttering deep and earnest threats of vengeance.
[Sidenote: Birth of the prince.]
It was about a year after this that Margaret's babe was born. It was a son.
[Sidenote: Question of the succession.]
[Sidenote: New difficulties.]
Of course, the birth of this child immensely increased the difficulties and dangers in which the kingdom was involved, for it seemed to extinguish the hope that the quarrel would be settled by the York family succeeding peaceably to the crown on the death of Henry. Now, at length, there was an heir to the Lancastrian line. Of course Margaret, and all those who were connected with the Lancastrian line, either by blood or political partisanship, would resolve to support the rights of this heir. On the other hand, it was not to be supposed that the Duke of York would relinquish his claims, and he would no longer have any inducement to postpone asserting them. Thus the birth of the young prince was the occasion of plunging the country in new and more feverish excitement than ever. Plots and counter-plots, conspiracies and counter-conspiracies, were the order of the day. Every body was taking sides, or, at least, making arrangements for taking sides, as soon as the outbreak should occur. And no one knew how soon this would be.
* * * * *
[Sidenote: Prince of Wales.]
The child was born on a certain religious holiday called St. Edward's day, and so they named him Edward. In a few months after his birth he was made Prince of Wales, and it is by this title only that he is known in history, for he never became king.
CHAPTER XII.
ILLNESS OF THE KING.
[Sidenote: Strange reverses.]
The circumstances of poor Margaret's case seem to have reversed all ordinary conditions of domestic happiness. The birth of her son placed her in a condition of extreme and terrible danger, while the immediate bursting of the storm was averted, and the sufferings which she was in the end called upon to endure in consequence of it were postponed for a time by what would, in ordinary circumstances, be the worst possible of calamities, the insanity of her husband. Happy as a queen, says the proverb, but what a mockery of happiness is this, when the birth of a child is a great domestic calamity, the evils of which were only in part averted, or rather postponed, by an unexpected blessing in the shape of the insanity of the husband and father.
[Sidenote: The king's insanity.]
[Sidenote: His condition concealed.]
[Sidenote: Margaret's policy.]
Henry's health had been gradually declining during many months before the little Edward was born. The cares and anxieties of his situation, which often became so extreme as to deprive him of all rest and sleep, became, at length, too heavy for him to bear, and his feeble intellect, in the end, broke down under them entirely. The queen did all in her power to conceal his condition from the people, and even from the court. It was comparatively easy to do this, for the derangement was not at all violent in its form. It was a sort of lethargy, a total failure of the mental powers and almost of consciousness—more like idiocy than mania. The queen removed him to Windsor, and there kept him closely shut up, admitting that he was sick, but concealing his true situation so far as was in her power, and, in the mean time, carrying on the government in his name, with the aid of Somerset and other great officers of state, whom she admitted into her confidence. Parliament and the public were very uneasy under this state of things. The Duke of York was laying his plans, and every one was anxious to know what was coming. But Margaret would allow nobody to enter the king's chamber, under any pretext whatever, except those who were in her confidence, and entirely under her orders.
[Sidenote: Death of the archbishop.]
[Sidenote: 1454.]
[Sidenote: A deputation.]
At length, about two months after Edward was born, the highest dignitary of the Church, the Archbishop of Canterbury, died. This event, according to the ancient usages of the realm, gave the House of Lords the right to send a deputation to the king to condole with him, and to ascertain his wishes in respect to the measures to be adopted on the occasion.
This committee accordingly proceeded to Windsor, and coming, as they did, under the authority of ancient custom, which in England, in those days, had even more than the force of law, they could not be refused admission. They found the king lying helpless and unconscious, and they could not obtain from him any answer to what they said to him, or any sign that the slightest spark of intelligence remained in his mind.
[Sidenote: The duke's policy.]
[Sidenote: The duke made regent.]
The committee reported these facts to the House of Lords. Finding how serious the king's illness was, the party of the Duke of York concluded to wait a little longer. There was a great probability that the king would soon die. The life, too, of the infant son was of course very precarious. He might not survive the dangers of infancy, and in that case the Duke of York would succeed to the throne at once without any struggle. So a sort of compromise was effected. Parliament appointed the Duke of York protector and defender of the king during his illness, or until such time as Edward, the young prince, should arrive at the proper age for undertaking the government. It was at this time that young Edward was made Prince of Wales. The conferring of this title upon him was confirmed by both houses of Parliament. They thus solemnly decreed that, though the Duke of York was to exercise the government during the sickness of the king and the minority of Edward, still the kingdom was to be reserved for Edward as the rightful heir, and he was to be put into possession of the sovereign power, either as regent in case his father should continue to live until that time, or as king if, in the interim, he should die.
[Sidenote: The duke's hopes.]
The Duke of York and his friends acceded to this arrangement, in hopes that the prince never would arrive at years of discretion, but that, before many years, and perhaps before many months, both father and son would die. He thought it better, at any rate, to wait quietly for a time, especially as, during the period of this waiting, he was put in possession substantially of the supreme power.
[Sidenote: Margaret dissatisfied.]
Queen Margaret herself was extremely dissatisfied with the arrangement by which the Duke of York was made regent, since it of course deprived her of all her power. But she could do nothing to prevent it. Besides, her mind was so filled with the maternal feelings and affections which her situation inspired and with the care of the infant child, that she had for a time no heart for political contention.
[Sidenote: Her condition.]
Then, moreover, the Parliament, at the same time that they made the Duke of York regent, and thus virtually deprived the queen of her power, settled upon her an ample annuity, by means of which she would be enabled to live, with her son, in a state becoming her rank and her ambition. One motive, doubtless, which led them to do this was to induce her to acquiesce in this change, and remain quiet in the position in which they thus placed her.
In addition to the liberal supplies which the Parliament granted to the queen, they made ample provision for maintaining the dignity and providing for the education of the young prince. Among other things, a commission of five physicians was appointed to watch over his health.
[Sidenote: She concludes to submit.]
Margaret was the more easily persuaded to acquiesce in these arrangements from believing, as she did, that the state of things to which they gave rise would be of short duration. She fully believed that her husband would recover, and then the regency of the Duke of York would cease, and the king—that is, the king in name, but she herself in reality—would come into power again. So she determined to bide her time.
[Sidenote: The queen's establishment at Greenwich.]
She accordingly retired from London, and set up an establishment of her own in her palace at Greenwich, where she held her court, and lived in a style of grandeur and ceremony such as would have been proper if she had been a reigning queen. Her old favorite, too, Somerset, was at first one of the principal personages of her court; but one of the first acts of the Duke of York's regency was to issue a warrant of arrest against him. The officers, in executing this warrant, seized him in the very presence-chamber of the queen. Margaret was extremely incensed at this deed. She declared that it was not only an act of political hostility, but an insult. She was, however, entirely helpless. The Duke of York had the power now, and she was compelled to submit.
[Sidenote: Her care of Henry.]
But she was not required to remain long in this humiliating position. She procured the best possible medical advice and attendance for her husband, and devoted herself to him with the utmost assiduity, and, at length, she had the satisfaction of seeing that he was beginning to amend. The improvement commenced in November, about eight or ten months after he first fell into the state of unconsciousness. When at length he came to himself, it seemed to him, he said, as if he was awaking from a long dream.
[Sidenote: Recovery.]
Margaret was overjoyed to see these signs of returning intelligence. She longed for the time to come when she could show the king her boy. He had thus far never seen the child.
[Sidenote: The prince shown to him.]
[Sidenote: Marks of returning consciousness.]
We obtain a pretty clear idea of the state of imbecility or unconsciousness in which he had been lying from the account of what he did and said at the interview when the little prince was first brought into his presence. It is as follows:
"On Monday, at noon, the queen came to him and brought my lord prince with her, and then he asked 'what the prince's name was,' and the queen told him 'Edward,' and then he held up his hands, and thanked God thereof.
"And he said he never knew him till that time, nor wist what was said to him, nor wist where he had been, while he had been sick, till now; and he asked who were the godfathers, and the queen told him, and he was well content.
"And she told him the cardinal was dead,[12] and he said he never knew of it till this time; then he said one of the wisest lords in this land was dead.
"And my Lord of Winchester and my Lord of St. John of Jerusalem were with him the morrow after Twelfth day, and he did speak to them as well as ever he did, and when they came out they wept for joy. And he saith he is in charity with all the world, and so he would all the lords were. And now he saith matins of our Lady and even-song, and heareth his mass devoutly."
[Footnote 12: The Archbishop of Canterbury, the circumstance of whose death has already been referred to.]
[Sidenote: The king reinstated.]
The very first moment that the king was able to bear it, Margaret caused him to be conveyed into the House of Lords, there to resume the exercise of his royal powers by taking his place upon the throne and performing some act of sovereignty. The regency was, of course, now at an end, and the Duke of York, leaving London, went off into the country in high dudgeon.
The queen, of course, now came into power again. The first thing that she did was to release Somerset from his confinement, and reinstate him as prime minister of the crown.
CHAPTER XIV.
ANXIETY AND TROUBLE.
[Sidenote: A great deal of trouble.]
[Sidenote: Angry disputes.]
[Sidenote: Insubordination.]
For about six years after this time, that is, from the birth of Prince Edward till he was six years old, and while Margaret was advancing from her twenty-fourth to her thirtieth year, her life was one of continual anxiety, contention, and alarm. The Duke of York and his party made continual difficulty, and the quarrel between him, and the Earl of Warwick, and the other nobles who espoused his cause, on one side, and the queen, supported by the Duke of Somerset and other great Lancastrian partisans on the other, kept the kingdom in a constant ferment. Sometimes the force of the quarrel spent itself in intrigues, manoeuvres, and plottings, or in fierce and angry debates in Parliament, or in bitter animosities and contentions in private and social life. At other times it would break out into open war, and again and again was Margaret compelled to leave her child in the hands of nurses and guardians, while she went with her poor helpless husband to follow the camp, in order to meet and overcome the military assemblages which the Duke of York was continually bringing together at his castles in the country or in the open fields.
The king's health during all this period was so frail, and his mind, especially at certain times, was so feeble, that he was almost as helpless as a child. There was an hereditary taint of insanity in the family, which made his case still more discouraging.
[Sidenote: Modes of amusing the king.]
[Sidenote: The singing boys.]
Queen Margaret took the greatest pains to amuse him, and to provide employments for him that would occupy his thoughts in a gentle and soothing manner. When traveling about the country, she employed minstrels to sing and play to him; and, in order to have a constant supply of these performers provided, and to have them well trained to their art, she sent instructions to the sheriffs of the counties in all parts of the kingdom, requiring them to seek for all the beautiful boys that had good voices, and to have them instructed in the art of music, so that they might be ready, when called upon, to perform before the king. In the mean time they were to be paid good wages, and to be considered already, while receiving their instruction, as acting under the charge and in the service of the queen.
[Sidenote: Pretended pilgrimages.]
[Sidenote: The king comforted.]
Margaret and the other friends of the king used to contrive various other ways of amusing and comforting his mind, some of which were not very honest. One was, for example, to have different nobles and gentlemen come to him and ask his permission that they should leave the kingdom to go and make pilgrimages to various foreign shrines, in order to fulfill vows and offer oblations and prayers for the restoration of his majesty's health. The king was of a very devout frame of mind, and his thoughts were accustomed to dwell a great deal on religious subjects, and especially on the performance of the rites and ceremonies customary in those days, and it seemed to comfort him very much to imagine that his friends were going to make such long pilgrimages to pray for him.
So the nobles and other great personages would ask his consent that they might go, and would take solemn leave of him as if they were really going, and then would keep out of sight a little while, until the poor patient had forgotten their request.
[Sidenote: One real pilgrimage.]
It is said, however, that one nobleman, the Duke of Norfolk, who was so kind-hearted a man that he went by the name of the Good Duke, actually made the pilgrimage to Jerusalem on this errand, and there offered up prayers and supplications at the famous chapel of the Holy Sepulchre for the restoration of his sovereign's health.
[Sidenote: The philosopher's stone.]
[Sidenote: Promised treasures.]
They used also to amuse and cheer the king's mind by telling him, from time to time, that he was going to be supplied with inexhaustible treasures of wealth by the discovery of the philosopher's stone. The philosopher's stone was an imaginary substance which the alchemists of those days were all the time attempting to discover, by means of which lead and iron, and all other metals, could be turned to gold. There were royal laboratories, and alchemists continually at work in them making experiments, and the queen used to give the king wonderful accounts of the progress which they were making, and tell him that the discovery was nearly completed, and that very soon he would have in his exchequer just as much money as his heart could desire. The poor king fully believed all these stories, and was extremely pleased and gratified to hear them.
[Sidenote: Intervals of good health.]
There were times during this interval when the king was tolerably well, his malady being somewhat periodical in its character. This was the case particularly on one occasion, soon after his first recovery from the state of total insensibility which has been referred to. The Duke of York, as has already been said, was put very much out of humor by the king's recovery on this occasion, and by his own consequent deposition from the office of regent, and still more so when he found that the first act which the queen performed on her recovery of power was to release his hated enemy, Somerset, from the prison where he, the Duke of York, had confined him, and make him prime minister again. He very soon determined that he would not submit to this indignity. He assembled an army on the frontiers of Wales, where some of his chief strong-holds were situated, and assumed an attitude of hostility so defiant that the queen's government determined to take the field to oppose him.
[Sidenote: Restoration of Somerset.]
[Sidenote: Armies marshaled.]
So they raised an army, and the Duke of Somerset, with the queen, taking the king with them, set out from London and marched toward the northwest. They stopped first at the town of St. Alban's.[13] When they were about to resume their march from St. Alban's, they saw that the hills before them were covered with bands of armed men, the forces of the Duke of York, which he was leading on toward the capital. Somerset's forces immediately returned to the town. Margaret, who was for a time greatly distressed and perplexed to decide between her duty toward her husband and toward her child, finally concluded to retire to Greenwich with the little prince, and await there the result of the battle, leaving the Duke of Somerset to do the best he could with the king.
[Footnote 13: See map.]
[Sidenote: St. Alban's.]
[Sidenote: The parley.]
Very soon a herald came from the Duke of York to the gates of St. Alban's, and demanded a parley. He said that the duke had not taken arms against the king, but only against Somerset. He professed great loyalty and affection for Henry himself, and only wished to save him from the dangerous counsels of a corrupt and traitorous minister, and he said that if the king would deliver up Somerset to him, he would at once disband his armies, and the difficulty would be all at an end.
[Sidenote: Reply.]
The reply sent to this was that the king declared that he would lose both his crown and his life before he would deliver up either the Duke of Somerset or even the meanest soldier in his army to such a demand.
[Sidenote: Attack on the town.]
[Sidenote: Terrible conflict.]
The Duke of York, on receiving this answer, immediately advanced to attack the town. For some time Henry's men defended the walls and gates successfully against him, but at length the Earl of Warwick, who was the Duke of York's principal confederate and supporter in this movement, passed with a strong detachment by another way round a hill, and through some gardens, and thence, by breaking down the wall which stood between the garden and the town, he succeeded in getting in. A terrible conflict then ensued in the streets and narrow lanes of the city, and the attention of the besieged being thus drawn off from the walls and the gates, the Duke of York soon succeeded in forcing his way in too.
[Sidenote: The king taken prisoner.]
King Henry's forces were soon routed with great slaughter. The Duke of Somerset and several other prominent nobles were killed. The king himself was wounded by an arrow, which struck him in the neck as he was standing under his banner in the street with his officers around him. When these his attendants saw that the battle was going against him, they all forsook him and fled, leaving him by his banner alone. He remained here quietly for some time, and then went into a shop near by, where presently the Duke of York found him.
[Sidenote: The duke's demeanor.]
As soon as the Duke came into the king's presence he kneeled before him, thus acknowledging him as king, and said,
"The traitor and public enemy against whom we took up arms is dead, and now there will be no farther trouble."
"Then," said the king, "for God's sake, go and stop the slaughter of my subjects."
[Sidenote: 1457.]
[Sidenote: The king conveyed to London.]
The duke immediately sent orders to stop the fighting, and, taking the king by the hand, he led him to the Abbey of St. Alban's, a venerable monastic edifice, greatly celebrated in the histories of these times, and there caused him to be conveyed to his apartment. The next day he took him to London. He rendered him all external tokens of homage and obedience by the way, but still virtually the king was his prisoner.
[Sidenote: Margaret's despair.]
Poor Queen Margaret was all this time at Greenwich, waiting in the utmost suspense and anxiety to hear tidings of the battle. When, at length, the news arrived that the battle had been lost, that the king had been wounded, and was now virtually a prisoner in the hands of her abhorred and hated enemy, she was thrown into a state of utter despair, so much so that she remained for some hours in a sort of stupor, as if all was now lost, and it was useless and hopeless to continue the struggle any longer.
[Sidenote: The king's wound.]
[Sidenote: The queen and the prince.]
She however, at length, revived, and began to consider again what was to be done. The prospect before her, however, seemed to grow darker and darker. The fatigue and excitement which the king had suffered, joined to the effects of his wound, which seemed not disposed to heal, produced a relapse. The Duke of York appears to have considered that the time had not yet come for him to attempt to assert his claims to the throne. He contented himself with so exhibiting the condition of the king to members of Parliament as to induce that body to appoint him protector again. When he had thus regained possession of power, he restored the king to the care of the queen, and sent her, with him and the little prince, into the country.
[Sidenote: Grand reconciliation.]
[Sidenote: 1458.]
[Sidenote: Mutual distrust.]
One of the most extraordinary circumstances which occurred in the course of these anxious and troubled years was a famous reconciliation which took place at one time between the parties to this great quarrel. It was at a time when England was threatened with an invasion from France. Queen Margaret proposed a grand meeting of all the lords and nobles on both sides, to agree upon some terms of pacification by which the intestine feud which divided and distracted the country might be healed, and the way prepared for turning their united strength against the foe. But it was a very dangerous thing to attempt to bring these turbulent leaders together. They had no confidence in each other, and no one of them would be willing to come to the congress without bringing with him a large armed force of followers and retainers, to defend him in case of violence or treachery. Finally, it was agreed to appoint the Lord-mayor of London to keep the peace among the various parties, and, to enable him to do this effectually, he was provided with a force of ten thousand men. These men were volunteers raised from among the citizens of London.
[Sidenote: Meeting of the nobles.]
When the time arrived for the meeting, the various leaders came in toward London, each at the head of a body of retainers. One man came with five hundred men, another with four hundred, and another with six hundred, who were all dressed in uniform with scarlet coats. Another nobleman, representing the great Percy family, came at the head of a body of fifteen hundred men, all his own personal retainers, and every one of them ready to fight any where and against any body, the moment that their feudal lord should give the word.
[Sidenote: Armed bands.]
These various chieftains, each at the head of his troops, came to London at the appointed time, and established themselves at different castles and strong-holds in and around the city, like so many independent sovereigns coming together to negotiate a treaty of peace.
[Sidenote: Disputes and debates.]
They spent two whole months in disputes and debates, in which the fiercest invectives and the most angry criminations and recriminations were uttered continually on both sides. At length, marvelous to relate, they came to an agreement. All the points in dispute were arranged, a treaty was signed, and a grand reconciliation—that is, a pretended one—was the result.
[Sidenote: The treaty.]
This meeting was convened about the middle of January, and on the twenty-fourth of March the agreement was finally made and ratified, and sealed, in a solemn manner, by the great seal. It contained a great variety of agreements and specifications, which it is not necessary to recapitulate here, but when all was concluded there was a grand public ceremony in commemoration of the event.
[Sidenote: Procession.]
At this celebration the king and queen, wearing their crowns and royal robes, walked in solemn procession to St. Paul's Cathedral in the city. They were followed by the leading peers and prelates walking two and two; and, in order to exhibit to public view the most perfect tokens and pledges of the fullness and sincerity of this grand reconciliation, it was arranged that those who had been most bitterly hostile to each other in the late quarrels should be paired together as they walked. Thus, immediately behind the king, who walked alone, came the queen and the Duke of York walking together hand in hand, as if they were on the most loving terms imaginable, and so with the rest.
[Sidenote: Mock reconciliation.]
The citizens of London, and vast crowds of other people who had come in from the surrounding towns to witness the spectacle, joined in the celebration by forming lines along the streets as the procession passed by, and greeting the reconciled pairs with long and loud acclamations; and when night came, they brightened up the whole city with illuminations of their houses and bonfires in the streets.
[Sidenote: Fighting again.]
In about a year after this the parties to this grand pacification were fighting each other more fiercely and furiously than ever.
[Sidenote: The prince's journey.]
[Sidenote: The little swans.]
At one time, when the little prince was about six years old, the queen made a royal progress through certain counties in the interior of the country, ostensibly to benefit the king's health by change of air, and by the gentle exercise and agreeable recreation afforded by a journey, but really, it is said, to interest the nobles and the people of the region through which she passed in her cause, and especially in that of the little prince, whom she took on that occasion to show to all the people on her route. She had adopted for him the device of his renowned ancestor, Edward III., which was a swan; and she had caused to be made for him a large number of small silver swans, which he was to present to the nobles and gentlemen, and to all who were admitted to a personal audience, in the towns through which he passed. He was a bright and beautiful boy, and he gave these little swans to the people who came around him with such a sweet and charming grace, that all who saw him were inspired with feelings of the warmest interest and affection for him.
[Sidenote: War breaks out again.]
Very soon after this time the war between the two great contending parties broke out anew, and took such a course as very soon deprived King Henry of his crown. The events which led to this result will be related in the next chapter.
CHAPTER XV.
MARGARET A FUGITIVE.
[Sidenote: 1459.]
[Sidenote: The battle of Blore Heath.]
[Sidenote: The queen's orders.]
In the summer of 1459, the year after the grand reconciliation took place which is described in the last chapter, two vast armies, belonging respectively to the two parties, which had been gradually gathering for a long time, came up together at a place called Blore Heath,[14] in Staffordshire, in the heart of England. A great battle ensued. During the battle Henry lay dangerously ill in the town of Coleshill, which was not far off. Margaret was at Maccleston, another village very near the field of battle. From the tower of the church in Maccleston she watched the progress of the fight. Salisbury was at the head of the York party. Margaret's troops were commanded by Lord Audley. When Audley took leave of her to go into battle, she sternly ordered him to bring Salisbury to her, dead or alive.
[Footnote 14: For the situation of Blore Heath, see map.]
[Sidenote: Decorations.]
Audley had ten thousand men under his command. The soldiers were all adorned with red rosettes, the symbol of the house of Lancaster. The officers wore little silver swans upon their uniform, such as Prince Edward had distributed.
[Sidenote: Battle lost.]
The queen watched the progress of the battle with intense anxiety, and soon, to her consternation and dismay, she saw that it was going against her. She kept her eyes upon Audley's banner, and when, at length, she saw it fall, she knew that all was lost. She hurried down from the tower, and, with a few friends to accompany her, she fled for her life to a strong-hold belonging to her friends that was not at a great distance.
[Sidenote: Feeble condition of the king.]
The king, too, had to be removed, in order to prevent his being taken prisoner. He was, however, too feeble to know much or to think much of what was going on. When they came to take him on his pallet to carry him away, he looked up and asked, feebly, "who had got the day," but beyond this he gave no indication of taking any interest in the momentous events that were transpiring.
[Sidenote: Spirit and temper of the queen.]
[Sidenote: 1460.]
[Sidenote: Success of her efforts.]
This defeat, instead of producing a discouraging and disheartening effect upon Margaret's mind, only served to arouse her to new vigor and determination. She had been somewhat timid and fearful in the earlier part of her troubles, when she had only a husband to think of and to care for. But now she had a son; and the maternal instinct seemed to operate in her case, as it has done in so many others, to make her fearless, desperate, and, in the end, almost ferocious, in protecting her offspring from harm, and in maintaining his rights. She immediately engaged with the utmost zeal and ardor in raising a new army. She did not trust the command of it to any general, but directed all the operations of it herself. There is not space to describe in detail the campaigns that ensued, but the result was a complete victory. Her enemies were, in their turn, entirely defeated, and the two great leaders, the Duke of York and the Earl of Warwick, were actually driven out of the kingdom. The Duke of York retreated to Ireland, and the Earl of Warwick went across the Straits of Dover to Calais, which was still in English possession, and a great naval and military station.
[Sidenote: The Earl of Warwick.]
[Sidenote: His successful advance.]
In a very short time after this, however, Warwick came back again with a large armed force, which he had organized at Calais, and landed in the southern part of England. He marched toward London, carrying all before him. It was now his party's turn to be victorious; for by the operation of that strange principle which seems to regulate the ups and downs of opposing political parties in all countries and in all ages, victory alternates between them with almost the regularity of a pendulum. The current of popular sentiment, which had set so strongly in favor of the queen's cause only a short year before, appeared to be now altogether in favor of her enemies. Every body flocked to Warwick's standard as he marched northwardly from the coast toward London, and at London the people opened the gates of the city and received him and his troops as if they had been an army of deliverers.
[Sidenote: Northampton.]
[Sidenote: The king made captive.]
Warwick did not delay long in London. He marched to the north to meet the queen's troops. Another great battle was fought at Northampton. Margaret watched the progress of the fight from an eminence not far distant. The day went against her. The result of the battle was that the poor king was taken prisoner the second time and carried in triumph to London.
The captors, however, treated him with great consideration and respect—not as their enemy and as their prisoner, but as their sovereign, rescued by them from the hands of traitors and foes. The time had not even yet come for the York party openly to avow their purpose of deposing the king. So they conveyed him to London, and lodged him in the palace there, where he was surrounded with all the emblems and marks of royalty, but was still, nevertheless, closely confined.
[Sidenote: Parliament summoned.]
[Sidenote: The king.]
The Duke of York then summoned a Parliament, acting in the king's name, of course, that is, requiring the king to sign the writs and other necessary documents. It was not until October that the Parliament met. During the interval the king was lodged in a country place not far from London, where every effort was made to enable him to pass his time agreeably, by giving him an opportunity to hunt, and to amuse and recreate himself with other out-door amusements. All the while, however, a strict watch was kept over him to prevent the possibility of his making his escape, or of the friends of the queen coming secretly to take him away.
As for the queen and the little prince, none knew what had become of them.
[Sidenote: The duke's pretensions.]
When Parliament met, a very extraordinary scene occurred in the House of Lords, in which the Duke of York was the principal actor, and which excited a great sensation. Up to this time he had put forward no actual claim to the throne in behalf of his branch of the family, but in all the hostilities in which he had been engaged against the king's troops, his object had been, as he had always said, not to oppose the king, but only to save him, by separating him from the evil influences which surrounded him. But he was now beginning to be somewhat more bold.
[Sidenote: The duke comes to Parliament.]
Accordingly, when Parliament met, he came into London at the head of a body-guard of five hundred horsemen, and with the sword of state borne before him, as if he were the greatest personage in the realm. He rode directly to Westminster, and, halting his men with great parade before the doors of the hall where the House of Lords was assembled, he went in.
[Sidenote: Scene in the House of Lords.]
He advanced directly through the hall to the raised dais at the end on which the throne was placed. He ascended the steps, and walked to the throne, the whole assembly looking on in solemn awe, to see what he was going to do. Some expected that he was going to take his seat upon the throne, and thus at once assume the position that he was the true and rightful sovereign of England. He, however, did not do so. He stood by the throne a few minutes, with his hand upon the crimson cloth which covered it, as if hesitating whether to take his seat or not, or perhaps waiting for some intimation from his partisans that he was expected to do so. But for several minutes no one spoke a word. At length the Archbishop of Canterbury, who was in some respects the most exalted personage in the House of Lords, asked him if he would be pleased to go and visit the king, who was at that time in an adjoining apartment. He replied in a haughty tone,
"I know no one in this realm whose duty it is not rather to visit me than to expect me to visit him."
[Sidenote: His haughty demeanor.]
He then turned and walked proudly out of the house.
[Sidenote: Henry's reasoning.]
Although he thus refrained from actually seating himself upon the throne, it was evident that the time was rapidly drawing near when he would openly assert his claim to it, and some of the peers, thinking perhaps that Henry could be induced peaceably to yield, consulted him upon the subject, asking him which he thought had the best title to the crown, himself or the Duke of York.
To this question Henry replied,
"My father was king; his father was king. I have myself worn the crown for forty years, from my cradle. You have all sworn fealty to me as your sovereign, and your fathers did the same to my father and to my grandfather. How, then, can any one dispute my claim?"
[Sidenote: Contesting claims.]
What Henry said was true. The crown had been in his branch of the royal line for three generations, and for more than half a century, during all which time the whole nation had acquiesced in their rule. The claim of the Duke of York ran back to a period anterior to all this, but he maintained that it was legitimate and valid, notwithstanding.
[Sidenote: Decision of the question.]
There followed a series of deliberations and negotiations, the result of which was a decision on the part of Parliament that the Duke of York and his successors were really entitled to the crown, but that, by way of compromise, it was not to be in form transferred to them until after the death of Henry. So long as he should continue to live, he was to be nominally king, but the Duke of York was to govern as regent, and, at Henry's death, the crown was to descend to him.
The duke was satisfied with this arrangement, and the first thing to be done, in order to secure its being well carried out, was to get the little prince, as well as Henry, the king, into his possession; for he well knew that, even if he were to dispose of the old king, and establish himself in possession of the throne, he could have no peace or quietness in the possession of it so long as the little prince, with his mother, was at large.
[Sidenote: The queen commanded to return.]
So he found means to induce the king to sign a mandate commanding the queen to come to London and bring the prince with her. This mandate she was required to obey immediately, under penalty, in case of disobedience, of being held guilty of treason.
Officers were immediately dispatched in all directions to search for the queen, in order to serve this mandate upon her, but she was nowhere to be found.
CHAPTER XVI.
MARGARET TRIUMPHANT.
[Sidenote: Sudden reverses.]
There followed after this time a series of very rapid and sudden reverses, by which first one party and then the other became alternately the victors and the vanquished, through changes of fortune of the most extraordinary character.
At the end of the battle described in the last chapter, Margaret found herself, with the little prince, a helpless fugitive. There were only eight persons to accompany her in her flight, and so defenseless were they, and such was the wild and lawless condition of the country, that it was said her party was stopped while on their way to Wales, and the queen was robbed of all her jewels and other valuables. Both she and the prince would very probably, too, have been made prisoners and sent to London, had it not been that, while the marauders were busy with their plunder, she contrived to make her escape.
[Sidenote: Retreat to Scotland.]
[Sidenote: The queen re-enters England.]
[Sidenote: Success.]
She remained a very short time in Wales, and then proceeded by sea to Scotland, where her party, and she herself personally, had powerful friends. By the aid of these friends, and through the influence of the indomitable spirit and resolution which she displayed, she was soon supplied with a new force. At the head of this force she crossed the frontier into England. The people seemed every where to pity her misfortunes, and they were so struck with the energy and courage she displayed in struggling against them, and in braving the dreadful dangers which surrounded her in defense of the rights of her husband and child, that they flocked to her standard from all quarters, and thus in eight days from the time that the mandate was issued from London commanding her to surrender herself a prisoner, she appeared in the vicinity of the city of York, the largest and strongest city in all the north of England, at the head of an overwhelming force.
[Sidenote: Movement of the duke.]
The Duke of York was astounded when this intelligence reached him in London. There was not a moment to be lost. He immediately set out with all the troops which he could command, and marched to the northward to meet the queen. At the same time, he sent orders to the other leaders of his party, in different parts of England, to move to the northward as rapidly as possible, and join him there.
[Sidenote: Battle of Wakefield.]
[Sidenote: Death of the Duke of York.]
The duke himself arrived first in the vicinity of the queen's army, but he thought he was not strong enough to attack her, and he accordingly concluded to wait until his re-enforcements should come up. The queen advanced with a much superior force to meet him. The two armies came together near the town of Wakefield, and here, after some delay, during which the queen continually challenged the duke to come out from his walls and fortifications to meet her, and defied and derided him with many taunts and reproaches, a great battle was finally fought. Margaret's troops were victorious. Two thousand out of five thousand of the duke's troops were left dead upon the field, and the duke himself was slain!
Margaret's heart was filled with the wildest exultation and joy when she heard that her inveterate and hated foe at last was dead. She could scarcely restrain her excitement. One of the nobles of her party, Lord Clifford, whose father had been killed in a previous battle under circumstances of great atrocity, cut off the duke's head from his body, and carried it to Margaret on the end of a pike. She was for a moment horror-stricken at the ghastly spectacle, and turned her face away; but she finally ordered the head to be set up upon a pole on the walls of York, in view of all beholders.
[Sidenote: Murder of his son.]
A young son of the duke's, the Earl of Rutland, who was then about twelve years old, was also killed, or rather massacred, on the field of battle, after the fight was over, as he was endeavoring to make his escape, under the care of his tutor, to a castle near, where he would have been safe. This was the castle of Sandal. It was a very strong place, and was in the possession of the Duke of York's party. The poor boy was cut down mercilessly by the same Lord Clifford who has already been spoken of, notwithstanding all that his tutor could do to save him.
[Sidenote: Margaret's cruelties.]
[Sidenote: Her exultation.]
Other most atrocious murders were committed at the close of this battle. The Earl of Salisbury was beheaded, and his head was set up upon a pike on the walls of York, by the side of the duke's. Margaret was almost beside herself at the results of this victory. Her armies triumphant, the great leader of the party of her enemies, the man who had been for years her dread and torment, slain, and all his chief confederates either killed or taken prisoners, and nothing now apparently in the way to prevent her marching in triumph to London, liberating her husband from his thraldom, and taking complete and undisputed possession of the supreme power, there seemed, so far as the prospect now before her was concerned, to be nothing more to desire.
CHAPTER XVII.
MARGARET AN EXILE.
[Sidenote: A new reverse.]
Bright as were the hopes and prospects of Margaret after the battle of Wakefield, a few short months were sufficient to involve her cause again in the deepest darkness and gloom. The battle of Wakefield, and the death of the Duke of York, took place near the last of December, in 1460. In March, three months later, Margaret was an exile from England, outlawed by the supreme power of the realm, and placed under such a ban that it was forbidden to all the people of England to have any communication with her.
[Sidenote: Reaction.]
[Sidenote: Head of the Duke of York.]
This fatal result was brought about, in a great measure, by the reaction in the minds of the people of the country, which resulted from the shocking cruelties perpetrated by her and by her party after the battle of Wakefield. The accounts of these transactions spread through the kingdom, and awakened a universal feeling of disgust and abhorrence. It was said that when Lord Clifford carried the head of the Duke of York to Margaret on the point of a lance, followed by a crowd of other knights and nobles, he said to her,
"Look, madam! The war is over! Here is the ransom for the king!"
Then all the by-standers raised a shout of exultation, and began pointing at the ghastly head, with mockings and derisive laughter. They had put a paper crown upon the head, which they seemed to think produced a comic effect. The queen, though at first she averted her face, soon turned back again toward the horrid trophy, and laughed, with the rest, at the ridiculous effect produced by the paper crown.
[Sidenote: The country shocked.]
[Sidenote: Margaret's ferocity.]
The murder, too, of the innocent child, the duke's younger son, produced a great and very powerful sensation throughout the land. The queen, though she had not, perhaps, commanded this deed, still made herself an accessory by commending it and exulting over it. The ferocious hate with which she was animated against all the family of her fallen foe was also shown by another circumstance, and that was, that when she commanded the two heads, viz., that of the Duke of York and that of the Earl of Salisbury, to be set upon the city walls, she ordered that a space should be left between them for two other heads, one of which was to be that of Edward, the oldest son of the Duke of York, who was still alive, not having been present at the battle of Wakefield, and who, of course, now inherited the title and the claims of his father.
[Sidenote: The duke's heir.]
[Sidenote: Edward.]
This young Edward was at this time about nineteen years of age. His title had been hitherto the Earl of March, and he would, of course, now become the Duke of York, only he chose to assume that of King of England. He was a young man of great energy of character, and he was sustained, of course, by all his father's party, who now transferred their allegiance to him. Indeed, their zeal in his service was redoubled by the terrible resentment and the thirst for vengeance which the cruelties of the queen awakened in their minds. Edward immediately put himself in motion with all the troops that he could command. He was in the western part of England at the time of his father's death, and he immediately began to move toward the coast in order to intercept Margaret on her march toward London.
[Sidenote: Battle at St. Alban's.]
[Sidenote: Warwick defeated.]
[Sidenote: Henry abandoned.]
At the same time, the Earl of Warwick advanced from London itself to the northward to meet the queen, taking with him the king, who had up to this time remained in London. The armies of Warwick and of the queen came into the vicinity of each other not far from St. Alban's, before the young Duke of York came up, and a desperate battle was fought. Warwick's army was composed chiefly of men hastily got together in London, and they were no match for the experienced and sturdy soldiers which Margaret had brought with her from the Scottish frontier. They were entirely defeated. They fought all day, but at night they dispersed in all directions, and in the hurry and confusion of their flight they left the poor king behind them.
[Sidenote: Is saved.]
During the battle Margaret did not know that her husband was on the ground. But at night, as soon as Henry's keepers had abandoned him, a faithful serving-man who remained with him ran into Margaret's camp, and finding one of the nobles in command there, he informed him of the situation of the king. The noble immediately informed the queen, and she, overjoyed at the news, flew to the place where her husband lay, and, on finding him, they embraced each other with the most passionate tokens of affection and joy.
[Sidenote: The abbey.]
Margaret brought the little prince to be presented to him, and then they all together proceeded to the abbey at St. Alban's, where apartments were provided for them. They first, however, went to the church, in order to return thanks publicly for the deliverance of the king.
They were received at the door of the church by the abbot and the monks, who welcomed them with hymns of praise and thanksgiving as they approached. After the ceremonies had been performed, they went to the apartments in the abbey which had been provided for them, intending to devote some days to quiet and repose.
[Sidenote: Great excitement.]
In the mean time the excitement throughout the country continued and increased. The queen perpetrated fresh cruelties, ordering the execution of all the principal leaders from the other side that fell into her hands. She alienated the minds of the people from her cause by not restraining her troops from plundering; and, in order to obtain money to defray the expenses of her army and to provide them with food, she made requisitions upon the towns through which she passed, and otherwise harassed the people of the country by fines and confiscations.
[Sidenote: The people alarmed.]
The people were at length so exasperated by these high-handed proceedings, and by the furious and vindictive spirit which Margaret manifested in all that she did, that the current turned altogether in favor of the young Duke of York. The scattered forces of his party were reassembled. They began soon to assume so formidable an appearance that Margaret found it would be best for her to retire toward the north again. She of course took with her the king and the Prince of Wales.
[Sidenote: Advance of Edward.]
At the same time, Edward, the young Duke of York, advanced toward London. The whole city was excited to the highest pitch of enthusiasm at his approach. A large meeting of citizens declared that Henry should reign no longer, but that they would have Edward for king.
[Sidenote: London.]
When Edward arrived in London he was received by the whole population as their deliverer. A grand council of the nobles and prelates was convened, and, after solemn deliberations, Henry was deposed and Edward was declared king.
Two days after this a great procession was formed, at the head of which Edward rode royally to Westminster and took his seat upon the throne.
[Sidenote: Battle of Towton.]
Margaret made one more desperate effort to retrieve the fortunes of her family by a battle fought at a place called Towton. This battle was fought in a snow-storm. It was an awful day. Margaret's party were entirely defeated, and nearly thirty thousand of them were left dead upon the field.
[Sidenote: Flight of the queen.]
As soon as the result was known, Margaret, taking with her her husband and child and a small retinue of attendants, fled to the northward. She stopped a short time at the Castle of Alnwick,[15] a strong-hold belonging to one of her friends; but, finding that the forces opposed to her were gathering strength every day and advancing toward her, and that the country generally was becoming more and more disposed to yield allegiance to the new king, she concluded that it would not be safe for her to remain in England any longer.
[Footnote 15: See map of the border at the commencement of chapter xix.]
[Sidenote: Alnwick.]
So, taking her husband and the little prince with her, and also a few personal attendants, she left Alnwick, and crossed the frontier into Scotland, a fugitive and an exile, and with no hope apparently of ever being able to enter England again.
CHAPTER XVIII.
A ROYAL COUSIN.
[Sidenote: 1461.]
[Sidenote: Margaret in Scotland.]
[Sidenote: Her friends.]
As soon as Margaret escaped to Scotland, far from being disheartened by her misfortunes, she began at once to concert measures for raising a new army and going into England again, with a view of making one more effort to recover her husband's throne. She knew, of course, that there was a large body of nobles, and of the people of the country, who were still faithful to her husband's cause, and who would be ready to rally round his standard whenever and wherever it should appear. All that she required was the nucleus of an army at the outset, and a tolerably successful beginning in entering the country. There were knights and nobles, and great numbers of men, every where ready to join her as soon as she should appear, but they were nowhere strong enough to commence a movement on their own responsibility.
[Sidenote: The prince.]
One of the measures which she adopted for strengthening her interest with the royal family of Scotland was to negotiate a marriage between the young prince, who was now seven years old, and a Scotch princess. She succeeded in conditionally arranging this marriage, but she found that she could not raise troops for a second invasion of England.
[Sidenote: Messengers sent to France.]
In the mean time, she had sent three noblemen as her messengers into France, to see what could be done in that country. France was her native land, and the king at that time, Charles VII., was her uncle. She had strong reason to hope, therefore, that she might find aid and sympathy there. Toward the close of the summer, however, she received a letter from two of her messengers at Dieppe which was not at all encouraging.
[Sidenote: Their letter.]
The letter began by saying, on the part of the messengers, that they had already written to Margaret three times before; once by the return of the vessel, called the Carvel, in which they went to France, and twice from Dieppe, where they then were, but all the letters were substantially to communicate the same evil tidings, namely, that the king, her uncle, was dead, and that her cousin had succeeded to the throne, but that the new king seemed not at all disposed to regard her cause favorably. His officers at Dieppe had caused all their papers to be seized and taken to the king, and he had shut up one of their number in the castle of Arques, which is situated at a short distance from Dieppe. He had been apparently prevented from imprisoning the other two by their having been provided with a safe-conduct, which protected them.
[Sidenote: The messengers' advice to the queen.]
Furthermore, the writers of the letter bade the queen keep up good courage, and advised her, for the present, to remain quietly where she was. She must not, they said, venture herself, or the little prince, upon the sea in an attempt to come to France, unless she found herself exposed to great danger in remaining in Scotland. They wished her to notify the king, too, who they supposed was at that time secreted in Wales, for they had heard that the Earl of March—they would not call him King of England, but still designated him by his old name—was going into Wales with an army to look for him.
[Sidenote: Their professions and promises.]
They said, in conclusion, that as soon as they were set at liberty they should immediately come to the queen in Scotland. Nothing but death would prevent their rejoining her, and they devoutly hoped and believed that they should not be called to meet with death until they could have the satisfaction of seeing her husband the king and herself once more in peaceable possession of their realm.
But the reader may perhaps like to peruse the letter itself in the words in which it was written. It is a very good specimen of the form in which the English language was written in those days, though it seems very quaint and old-fashioned now. It was as follows:
[Sidenote: The letter itself.]
"MADAM,—Please your good God, we have, since our coming hither, written to your highness thrice; once by the carvel in which we came, the other two from Dieppe. But, madam, it was all one thing in substance, putting you in knowledge of your uncle's death, whom God assoil, and how we stood arrested, and do yet. But on Tuesday next we shall up to the king, your cousin-german. His commissaires, at the first of our tarrying, took all our letters and writings, and bore them up to the king, leaving my Lord of Somerset in keeping at the castle of Arques, and my fellow Whyttingham and me (for we had safe-conduct) in the town of Dieppe, where we are yet.
"Madam, fear not, but be of good comfort, and beware ye venture not your person, nor my lord the prince, by sea, till ye have other word from us, unless your person can not be sure where ye are, and extreme necessity drive ye thence.
"And, for God's sake, let the king's highness be advised of the same; for, as we are informed, the Earl of March is into Wales by land, and hath sent his navy thither by sea.
"And, madam, think verily, as soon as we be delivered, we shall come straight to you, unless death take us by the way, which we trust he will not till we see the king and you peaceably again in your realm; the which we beseech God soon to see, and to send you that your highness desireth. Written at Dieppe the 30th day of August, 1461.
"Your true subjects and liegemen,
"HUNGERFORD and WHYTTINGHAM."
[Sidenote: Fidelity.]
[Sidenote: Suspense.]
[Sidenote: King Louis XI.]
Margaret remained through the winter in Scotland, anxiously endeavoring to devise means to rebuild her fallen fortunes. But all was in vain; no light or hope appeared. At length, when the spring opened, she determined to go herself to France and see the king her cousin, in hopes that, by her presence at the court, and her personal influence over the king, something might be done.
The king her cousin had been her playmate in their childhood. He was the son of Mary, her father Rene's sister. Mary and Rene had been very strongly attached to each other, and the children had been brought up much together. Margaret now hoped that, on seeing her again in her present forlorn and helpless condition, his former friendship for her would revive, and that he would do something to aid her.
[Sidenote: Want of funds.]
[Sidenote: Gratitude.]
[Sidenote: Voyage to France.]
She was, however, entirely destitute of money, and she would have found it very difficult to contrive the means of getting to France, had it not been for the kindness of a French merchant who resided in Scotland, and whom she had known in former years in Nancy, in Lorraine, where she had rendered him some service. The merchant had since acquired a large fortune in commercial operations between Scotland and Flanders which he conducted. In his prosperity he did not forget the kindness he had received from the queen in former years, and, now that she was in want and in distress, he came forward promptly to relieve her. He furnished her with the funds necessary for her voyage, and provided a vessel to convey her and her attendants to the coast of France. She sailed from the port of Kirkcudbright, on the western coast of Scotland, and so passed down through the Irish Sea and St. George's Channel, thus avoiding altogether the Straits of Dover, where she would have incurred danger of being intercepted by the English men-of-war.
She took the young prince with her. The king it was thought best to leave behind.
[Sidenote: 1462.]
[Sidenote: Funds exhausted.]
So great were the number of persons dependent upon the queen, and so urgent were their necessities, that all the funds which the French merchant had furnished her were exhausted on her arrival in France. She found, moreover, that the three friends, the noblemen whom she had sent to France the summer before, and from whom she had received the letter we have quoted, had left that country and gone to Scotland to seek her. They had provided themselves with a vessel, in which they intended to take the queen away from Scotland and convey her to some place of safety, not knowing that she had herself embarked for France. They must have passed the queen's vessel on the way, unless, indeed, which is very probably the case, they went up the Channel and through the Straits of Dover, thus taking an altogether different route from that chosen by the queen.
[Sidenote: Missed by her friends.]
When they reached Scotland they hovered on the coast a long time, endeavoring to find an opportunity to communicate with her secretly; but at length they learned that she was gone.
[Sidenote: She goes to France.]
In the mean time, Margaret, having arrived in France, borrowed some money of the Duke of Brittany, in whose dominions it would seem she first landed. With this money Margaret supplied the most pressing wants of her party, and also made arrangements for pursuing her journey into the country, to the town in Normandy where her cousin the king was then residing.
[Sidenote: Louis XI.]
It is said that, on arriving at the court of the king and obtaining admission to his majesty's presence, Margaret took the young prince by the hand, and, throwing herself down at her cousin's feet, she implored him, with many tears, to take pity upon her forlorn and wretched condition, and that of her unhappy husband, and to aid her in her efforts to recover his throne.
But the king, with true royal heartlessness, was unmoved by her distress, and manifested no disposition to espouse her cause.
[Sidenote: Negotiations.]
Some negotiations, however, ensued, at the close of which the king promised to loan her a sum of money—for a consideration. The consideration was that she was to convey to him the port and town of Calais, which was still held by the English, and was considered a very important and very valuable possession, or else pay back double the money which she borrowed.
[Sidenote: Mortgage of Calais.]
Thus it was not an absolute sale of Calais, but only a mortgage of it, which the queen executed. But, nevertheless, as soon as this transaction was made known in England, it excited great indignation throughout the country, and seriously injured the cause of the queen. The people accused her of being ready to alienate the possessions of the crown, possessions which it had cost so much both in blood and treasure to procure.
[Sidenote: Doubtful security.]
Of course, the security which the king obtained for his loan was of a somewhat doubtful character, for Margaret's mortgage deed of Calais, although she gave it in King Henry's name, and was careful to state in it that she was expressly authorized by him to make it, was of no force at all so long as Edward of York reigned in England, and was acknowledged by the people as the rightful king. It was only in the event of Margaret's succeeding in recovering the throne for her husband that the mortgage could take effect. The deed which she executed stipulated that, as soon as King Henry should be restored to his kingdom, he would appoint one of two persons named, in whom the King of France had confidence, as governor of the town, with authority to deliver it up to the King of France in one year in case she did not within that time pay back double the sum of money borrowed.
[Sidenote: Conditions.]
He seemed to think that, considering the great risk he was taking, a hundred per cent per annum was not an exorbitant usury.
CHAPTER XIX.
RETURN TO ENGLAND.
[Sidenote: Margaret finds a friend.]
Margaret found one friend in France, who seems to have espoused her cause from a sentiment of sincere and disinterested attachment to her. This was a certain knight named Pierre de Breze.[16] He was an officer of high rank in the government of Normandy, and a man of very considerable influence among the distinguished personages of those times.
[Footnote 16: Pronounced Brezzay.]
[Sidenote: Account of Breze.]
[Sidenote: He enters the queen's service.]
Margaret had known him intimately many years before. He was appointed one of the commissioners on the French side to negotiate, with Suffolk and the others, the terms of Margaret's marriage, and he had taken a very prominent part in the tournaments and other celebrations which took place in honor of the wedding before Margaret left her native land. When he now saw the poor queen coming back to France an exile, bereft of friends, of resources, and almost of hope, the interest which he had felt for her in former years was revived. It is said that he fell in love with her. However this may be, it is certain that Margaret's great beauty must have had a very important influence in deepening the sentiment of compassion which the misfortunes of the poor fugitive were so well calculated to inspire. At any rate, Breze entered at once into the queen's service with great enthusiasm. He brought with him a force of two thousand men. With this army, and with the money which she had borrowed of King Louis, Margaret resolved to make one more attempt to recover her husband's kingdom. |
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