TAKING SANCTUARY.
A.D. 1483
Alarm of the queen on hearing the news.--Visit of the
archbishop.--Hasting's message.--The queen is in great
distress.--Uncertainty in respect to Gloucester's designs.--Arrest
of the leading men in the Woodville party.--The queen
"on the rushes."--Her daughters.--Description of the
sanctuary.--Apartments.--The Jerusalem chamber.--Richard's
plans in respect to the coronation.--Reception of Richard's party
at London.--Richard establishes his court.--Dorset.--The queen's
friends dismissed.--Richard's titles.--Anxiety of the people
of England.--Forlorn situation of the queen.
When the news reached London that the king had been seized on the way
to the capital, and was in Gloucester's custody, it produced a
universal commotion. Queen Elizabeth was thrown at once into a state
of great anxiety and alarm. The tidings reached her at midnight. She
was in the palace at Westminster at the time. She rose immediately in
the greatest terror, and began to make preparations for fleeing to
sanctuary with the Duke of York, her second son. All her friends in
the neighborhood were aroused and summoned to her aid. The palace soon
became a scene of universal confusion. Every body was busy packing up
clothing and other necessaries in trunks and boxes, and securing
jewels and valuables of various kinds, and removing them to places of
safety. In the midst of this scene, the queen herself sat upon the
rushes which covered the floor, half dressed, and her long and
beautiful locks of hair streaming over her shoulders, the picture of
despair.
There was a certain nobleman, named Lord Hastings, who had been a very
prominent and devoted friend to Edward the Fourth during his life, and
had consequently been upon very intimate and friendly terms with the
queen. It was he, however, that had objected in the council to the
employment of a large force to conduct the young king to London, and,
by so doing, had displeased the queen. Toward morning, while the queen
was in the depths of her distress and terror, making her preparations
for flight, a cheering message from Hastings was brought to her,
telling her not to be alarmed. The message was brought to her by a
certain archbishop who had been chancellor, that is, had had the
custody of the great seal, an impression from which was necessary to
the validity of any royal decree. He came to deliver up the seal to
the queen, and also to bring Lord Hastings's message.
"Ah, woe worth him!" said the queen, when the archbishop informed her
that Lord Hastings bid her not fear. "It is he that is the cause of
all my sorrows; he goeth about to destroy me and my blood."
"Madam," said the archbishop, "be of good comfort. I assure you that,
if they crown any other king than your eldest son, whom they have
with them, we will, on the morrow, crown his brother, whom you have
with you here. And here is the great seal, which, in like wise as your
noble husband gave it to me, so I deliver it to you for the use of
your son." So the archbishop delivered the great seal into the queen's
hands, and went away. This was just before the dawn.
The words which the archbishop spoke to the queen did not give her
much comfort. Indeed, her fears were not so much for her children, or
for the right of the eldest to succeed to the throne, as for herself
and her own personal and family ascendency under the reign of her son.
She had contrived, during the lifetime of her husband, to keep pretty
nearly all the influence and patronage of the government in her own
hands and in that of her family connections, the Woodvilles. You will
recollect how much difficulty that had made, and how strong a party
had been formed against her coterie. And now, her husband being dead,
what she feared was not that Gloucester, in taking the young king away
from the custody of her relatives, and sending those relatives off as
prisoners to the north, meant any hostility to the young king, but
only against her and the whole Woodville interest, of which she was
the head. She supposed that Gloucester would now put the power of the
government in the hands of other families, and banish hers, and that
perhaps he would even bring her to trial and punishment for acts of
maladministration, or other political crimes which he would charge
against her. It was fear of this, rather than any rebellion against
the right of Edward the Fifth to reign, which made her in such haste
to flee to sanctuary.
It was, however, somewhat uncertain what Gloucester intended to do.
His professions were all very fair in respect to his allegiance to the
young king. He sent a messenger to London, immediately after seizing
the king, to explain his views and motives in the act, and in this
communication he stated distinctly that his only object was to prevent
the king's falling into the hands of the Woodville family, and not at
all to oppose his coronation.
"It neyther is reason," said he in his letter, "nor in any wise to be
suffered that the young kynge, our master and kinsman, should be in
the hands of custody of his mother's kindred, sequestered in great
measure from our companie and attendance, the which is neither
honorable to hys majestie nor unto us."
Thus the pretense of Richard in seizing the king was simply that he
might prevent the government under him from falling into the hands of
his mother's party. But the very decisive measures he took in respect
to the leading members of the Woodville family led many to suspect
that he was secretly meditating a deeper design. All those who were
with the king at the time of his seizure were made prisoners and sent
off to a castle in the north, as we have already said; and, in order
to prevent those who were in and near London from making their escape,
Richard sent down immediately from Northampton ordering their arrest,
and appointing guards to prevent any of them from flying to sanctuary.
When the archbishop, who had called to see the queen at the palace,
went away, he saw through the window, although it was yet before the
dawn, a number of boats stationed on the Thames ready to intercept any
who might be coming up the river with this intent from the Tower, for
several influential members of the family resided at this time at the
Tower.
The queen herself, however, as it happened, was at Westminster Palace,
and she had accordingly but little way to go to make her escape to the
Abbey.
The space which was inclosed by the consecrated limits, from within
which prisoners could not be taken, was somewhat extensive. It
included not only the church of the Abbey, but also the Abbey garden,
the cemetery, the palace of the abbot, the cloisters, and various
other buildings and grounds included within the inclosure. As soon as
the queen entered these precincts, she sank down upon the floor of the
hall, "alone on the rushes, all desolate and dismayed." It was in the
month of May, and the great fire-place of the hall was filled with
branches of trees and flowers, while the floor, according to the
custom of the time, was strewed with green rushes. For a time the
queen was so overwhelmed with her sorrow and chagrin that she was
scarcely conscious where she was. But she was soon aroused from her
despondency by the necessity of making proper arrangements for herself
and her family in her new abode. She had two daughters with her,
Elizabeth and Cecily--beautiful girls, seventeen and fifteen years of
age; Richard, Duke of York, her second son, and several younger
children. The youngest of these children, Bridget, was only three
years old. Elizabeth, the oldest, afterward became a queen, and little
Bridget a nun.
[Illustration: ANCIENT VIEW OF WESTMINSTER.]
The rooms which the queen and her family occupied in the sanctuary
are somewhat particularly described by one of the writers of those
days. The fire-place, where the trees and flowers were placed, was in
the centre of the hall, and there was an opening in the roof above,
called a _louvre_, to allow of the escape of the smoke. This hearth
still remains on the floor of the hall, and the louvre is still to be
seen in the roof above.[K] The end of the hall was formed of oak
panneling, with lattice-work above, the use of which will presently
appear. A part of this paneling was formed of doors, which led by
winding stairs up to a curious congeries of small rooms formed among
the spaces between the walls and towers, and under the arches above.
Some of these rooms were for private apartments, and others were used
for the offices of buttery, kitchen, laundry, and the like. At the end
of this range of apartments was the private sitting-room and study of
the abbot. The windows of the abbot's room looked down upon a pretty
flower-garden, and there was a passage from it which led by a corridor
back to the lattices over the doors in the hall, through which the
abbot could look down into the hall at any time without being
observed, and see what the monks were doing there.
[Footnote K: The room is now the college hall, so called, of
Westminster school.]
Besides these there were other large apartments, called state
apartments, which were used chiefly on great public occasions. These
rooms were larger, loftier, and more richly decorated than the others.
They were ornamented with oak carvings and fluting, painted windows,
and other such decorations. There was one in particular, which was
called the Jerusalem chamber. This was the grand receiving-room of the
abbot. It had a great Gothic window of painted glass, and the walls
were hung with curious tapestry. This room, with the window, the
tapestry, and all the other ornaments, remains to this day.
It was on the night of the third of May that the queen and her family
"took sanctuary." The very next day, the fourth, was the day that the
council had appointed for the coronation. But Richard, instead of
coming at once to London, after taking the king under his charge, so
as to be ready for the coronation at the appointed day, delayed his
journey so as not to enter London until that day. He wished to prevent
the coronation from taking place, having probably other plans of his
own in view instead.
It is not, however, absolutely certain that Richard intended, at this
time, to claim the crown for himself, for in entering London he
formed a grand procession, giving the young king the place of honor
in it, and doing homage to him as king. Richard himself and all his
retinue were in mourning. Edward was dressed in a royal mantle of
purple velvet, and rode conspicuously as the chief personage of the
procession. A short distance from the city the cavalcade was met by a
procession of the civic authorities of London and five hundred
citizens, all sumptuously appareled, who had come out to receive and
welcome their sovereign, and to conduct him through the gates into the
city. In entering the city Richard rode immediately before the king,
with his head uncovered. He held his cap in his hand, and bowed
continually very low before the king, designating him in this way to
the citizens as the object of their homage. He called out also, from
time to time, to the crowds that thronged the waysides to see, "Behold
your prince and sovereign."
There were two places to which it might have been considered not
improbable that Richard would take the king on his arrival at the
capital--one the palace of Westminster, at the upper end of London,
and the other, the Tower, at the lower end. The Tower, though often
used as a prison, was really, at that time, a castle, where the kings
and the members of the royal family often resided. Richard, however,
did not go to either of these places at first, but proceeded instead
to the bishop's palace at St. Paul's, in the heart of the city. Here a
sort of court was established, a grand council of nobles and officers
of state was called, and for some days the laws were administered and
the government was carried on from this place, all, however, in
Edward's name. Money was coined, also, with his effigy and
inscription, and, in fine, so far as all essential forms and
technicalities were concerned, the young Edward was really a reigning
king; but, of course, in respect to substantial power, every thing was
in Richard's hands.
The reason why Richard did not proceed at once to the Tower was
probably because Dorset, the queen's son, was in command there, and
he, as of course he was identified with the Woodville party, might
perhaps have made Richard some trouble. But Dorset, as soon as he
heard that Richard was coming, abandoned the Tower, and fled to the
sanctuary to join his mother. Accordingly, after waiting a few days at
the bishop's palace until the proper arrangements could be made, the
king, with the whole party in attendance upon him, removed to the
Tower, and took up their residence there. The king was nominally in
his castle, with Richard and the other nobles and their retinue in
attendance upon him as his guards. Really he was in a prison, and his
uncle, with the people around him who were under his uncle's command,
were his keepers.
A meeting of the lords was convened, and various political
arrangements were made to suit Richard's views. The principal members
of the Woodville family were dismissed from the offices which they
held, and other nobles, who were in Richard's interest, were appointed
in their place. A new day was appointed for the coronation, namely,
the 22d of June. The council of lords decreed also that, as the king
was yet too young to conduct the government himself personally, his
uncle Gloucester was, for the present, to have charge of the
administration of public affairs, under the title of Lord Protector.
The title in full, which Richard thenceforth assumed under this
decree, was, Richard, Duke of Gloucester, brother and uncle of the
king, Protector and Defender, Great Chamberlain, Constable, and Lord
High Admiral of England.
During all this time the city of London, and, indeed, the whole realm
of England, as far as the tidings of what was going on at the capital
spread into the interior, had been in a state of the greatest
excitement. The nobles, and the courtiers of all ranks, were
constantly on the alert, full of anxiety and solicitude, not knowing
which side to take or what sentiments to avow. They did not know what
turn things would finally take, and, of course, could not tell what
they were to do in order to be found, in the end, on the side that was
uppermost. The common people in the streets, with anxious looks and
many fearful forebodings, discussed the reports and rumors that they
had heard. They all felt a sentiment of loyal and affectionate regard
for the king--a sentiment which was increased and strengthened by his
youth, his gentle disposition, and the critical and helpless situation
that he was in; while, on the other hand, the character of Gloucester
inspired them with a species of awe which silenced and subdued them.
Edward, in his "protector's" hands, seemed to them like a lamb in the
custody of a tiger.
The queen, all this time, remained shut up in the sanctuary, in a
state of extreme suspense and anxiety, clinging to the children whom
she had with her, and especially to her youngest son, the little Duke
of York, as the next heir to the crown, and her only stay and hope,
in case, through Richard's violence or treachery, any calamity should
befall the king.
[Illustration: THE PEOPLE IN THE STREETS.]