THE RIVAL DUKES.
About the end of August, 1451, a rumor reached the court of Westminster
that the Duke of York had suddenly left Ireland. The queen was
naturally somewhat alarmed; for, during Cade's insurrection, the duke's
name had been used in such a way as to test his influence, and no doubt
remained of the popularity he enjoyed among the commons.
Margaret of Anjou had no wish to see York in London. On the pretext,
therefore, that the duke came with too large a force, the queen, at
Somerset's instigation, dispatched Lord Lisle, son of the famous
Talbot, to prevent his landing. York, however, eluded the vigilance of
his enemies, made his way to London, paid his respects to the king,
complained of the misgovernment under which the country was suffering;
and, still mute as to his intentions, retired to Fotheringay, a castle
which had been built by his ancestor, Edmund of Langley.
The absence of York from court exercised more influence in London than
his presence could have done, and soon after his return from Ireland
a member of the House of Commons boldly proposed that, since Henry
had no issue and no prospect of any, the duke should be declared heir
to the throne. For his temerity this senator was committed to the
Tower; but the Commons, who were not thus to be daunted, passed a bill
of attainder against the deceased Duke of Suffolk, and presented a
petition to the king for the dismissal of Somerset, who was Suffolk's
successor and York's foe.
The name of the Duke of Somerset was Edmund Beaufort. He was the
illegitimate grandson of John of Gaunt, nephew of Cardinal Beaufort,
and brother of that fair damsel whom James, the poet-king of Scots,
had wooed at Windsor, under circumstances so romantic. He had, for
several years, been Regent of France, and in that capacity displayed
considerable vigor; but the loss of Normandy occurred during his
government, and this misfortune, coupled with his violent temper, and
the fact of his enjoying the queen's favor, rendered Somerset's name as
odious to the multitude as that of Suffolk had ever been. The queen,
however, not being inclined to bow to popular opinion, resisted the
demand of the House of Commons for her favorite's dismissal; and the
strife between the parties was carried on with a degree of violence
which, in any other country, would have produced immediate war and
bloodshed.
The heir of the Plantagenets, however, recognized the necessity of
acting with prudence. In fact, the Lancastrian dynasty was still so
much in favor with the nation that an attempt on York's part to seize
the crown would inevitably have added to the power of his enemies; but
in any efforts to put down Somerset, and the men whom that obnoxious
minister used as the instruments of his tyranny, the duke well knew
that he carried with him the hearts of the people and of those great
patricians whom the people regarded as their natural leaders.
Though the Earl of Westmoreland adhered to the house of Lancaster the
alliance of the other Nevilles would of itself have rendered York
formidable; and, besides the Nevilles, there were many feudal magnates
who shared York's antipathy to Somerset. Thomas, Lord Stanley, who had
married Warwick's sister; John Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, descended from
a granddaughter of the first Edward; John De Vere, Earl of Oxford,
whose ancestors had been great in England since the Conquest; and
Thomas Courtenay, Earl of Devon, whose pedigree dated from the age of
Charlemagne, could not witness without indignation the domination of
Beauforts. "We are unwilling," such men must have murmured, "to see the
court of Westminster converted into a sty for the brood of Katherine
Swynford."
York, for some time, hesitated to strike a blow; but, at length, and
not without reason, he lost all patience. Indeed, the Yorkists affirmed
that a plot had been formed for imprisoning their chief, and putting
him secretly to death; and the memory of Humphrey of Gloucester's
fate rendered people credulous of any such report. To baffle any such
criminal project, a movement against Somerset was resolved upon by
the partisans of the White Rose; and, about the opening of 1452, York
repaired to his castle of Ludlow, gathered an army among the retainers
of the house of Mortimer, and, declaring that he had no evil intentions
against the king, to whom he offered to swear fealty on the sacrament,
commenced his march toward London.
The Lancastrians were alarmed at the intelligence that the duke was in
arms; and forces were mustered to intercept his march. But while the
royal army went westward by one road York came eastward by another,
and, with several thousand men at his back, appeared at the gates of
London. The metropolis, however, had aided in that revolution which
placed Henry of Bolingbroke on the throne, and still continued well
affected to the house of Lancaster. York did not, therefore, meet with
such a reception as his friends could have wished. The gates, in fact,
were shut in his face; and, not wishing to exasperate the citizens
by acts of violence, he marched up the banks of the Thames, crossed
the river at Kingston, and, having been joined by the Earl of Devon,
encamped his army on Brent Heath, near Dartford.
Henry, meantime, ventured on taking the field, and pitched his pavilion
on Blackheath. It soon appeared, however, that on neither side was
there any inclination to involve the country in civil war. Negotiations
were therefore opened; and two bishops, commissioned to act for the
king, proceeded to the camp of the Yorkists and demanded of their chief
why he had appeared in arms.
The duke, who would seem to have been unaware of the utter insincerity
of his enemies, answered that repeated attempts had been made to effect
his ruin, and that he was in arms for his own safety. The bishops,
who well knew how truly York spoke, admitted that he had been watched
with a jealous eye, but assigned as a reason that the treasonable talk
of his adherents justified suspicion. On the king's part, however,
they acquitted him of all treason, saying that Henry esteemed him
as a true man and well-beloved cousin; and York, maintaining a high
tone, insisted that all persons who had broken the laws of the realm,
especially those who had been indicted for treason, should be put upon
their trial. The demand was so reasonable that compliance could not
with decency be refused; and Henry, having promised that every offender
should be punished, issued an order for the apprehension of Somerset,
and gave York to understand that he should have a place in the council.
Far from doubting the king's good faith, York disbanded his army, and
agreed to a personal interview with his royal kinsman. The result
was not the most satisfactory. It proved beyond question that,
however saintly his theories, Henry was capable of acting with an
utter disregard of honor--that he had little sympathy with the fine
sentiment of his ancestor, John de Valois, who, when advised to violate
a treaty with our third Edward, exclaimed: "Were truth and sincerity
banished from every part of the earth, they ought yet to be found in
the mouths and the hearts of kings." It appears that the queen had
concealed Somerset behind the arras of the king's tent, and no sooner
did York enter, and repeat what he had said to the two bishops, than
the favorite, stepping from behind a curtain, offered to prove his
innocence, and called York liar and traitor.
The scene which followed may easily be imagined. Somerset was violent
and insolent; Henry, alarmed and silent; York, indignant and scornful.
The duke could now entertain no doubt that he had been betrayed;
but his courage did not desert him. He retorted Somerset's epithets
with interest, and was turning haughtily to take his departure, when
informed that he was a captive. Somerset then proposed a summary trial
and execution; but the courtiers shrunk from the opprobrium of another
murder. The king, who, save in the case of Lollards, had no love of
executions, took the more moderate view; and the duke, instead of
perishing on the scaffold, was sent as a state prisoner to the Tower of
London.
While the queen and her friends were still bent on York's destruction,
a rumor that his eldest son Edward, the boy-Earl of March, was coming
from Ludlow at the head of a strong body of Welshmen, filled the
council with alarm. The duke was thereupon set at liberty, and, after
making his submission, allowed to retire to the borders of Wales.
Having reached the dominions of the Mortimers, the heir-presumptive
sought refuge within the walls of the castles of Wigmore and Ludlow,
repressed ambitious longings and patriotic indignation, and, for the
restoration of better days to himself and his country, trusted to the
chapter of accidents and the course of events.