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.
[Illustration: The Temple Garden.]
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.
[Illustration: The Little Prince and his Swans.]
[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.
[Illustration: Murder of Richard's Child.]
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.]