BEFORE TEWKESBURY.
It was Easter Sunday, in the year 1471, and the battle of Barnet had
been fought. Exeter lay stretched among the dead and the dying on the
blood-stained heath of Gladsmuir; Oxford was spurring toward the north;
Somerset was escaping toward the west; Henry of Windsor had been led
back to his prison in the Tower; the bodies of Warwick and Montagu were
being conveyed in one coffin to St. Paul's; and Edward of York was at
the metropolitan cathedral, offering his standard upon the altar, and
returning thanks to GOD for his victory over the Red Rose of Lancaster
and the flower of the ancient nobility, when Margaret of Anjou once
more set foot on the shores of England. Nor, in circumstances so
inauspicious, did she arrive as a solitary victim. Accompanied by
the son of the captive king and the daughter of the fallen earl, and
attended by Lord Wenlock, Sir John Fortescue, and the Prior of St.
John's, came the Lancastrian queen on that day when the wounded were
dying, and the riflers prying, and the ravens flying over the field of
Barnet.
At Weymouth, on the coast of Devon, Margaret landed with the Prince and
Princess of Wales. From Weymouth, the ill-starred queen was escorted to
the Abbey of Cearne, a religious house in the neighborhood. While at
Cearne, resting from the fatigues of her voyage, she was informed of
the defeat of the Lancastrians and the death of Warwick.
Margaret had hitherto, through all perils and perplexities, been
sustained by her high spirit. She had won the reputation of being one
of the race of steel, who felt her soul brighten in danger, and who
never knew fear without such a feeling being succeeded by a blush at
having yielded to such weakness. On hearing of the defeat at Barnet,
however, she evinced the utmost alarm, raised her hands to heaven,
closed her eyes, and, in a state of bewilderment, sunk swooning to the
ground. Her first idea, on recovering consciousness, was to return to
France; but, meanwhile, for the sake of personal safety, she hastened
to the Abbey of Beaulieu, in Hampshire, and registered herself and
her whole party as persons availing themselves of the privilege of
sanctuary.
A rumor of the queen's arrival reached the chiefs of the Red Rose
party; and to Beaulieu, without delay, went Somerset, with his brother,
John Beaufort, whom the Lancastrians called Marquis of Dorset, and
John, Earl of Devon, head of the great house of Courtenay. These
noblemen found Margaret plunged in grief, and resolved on returning
to France till GOD should send her better fortune. Their presence,
however, in some degree, revived the courage which had so often shone
forth in adversity; and Somerset strongly urged her to brave fortune
and the foe on another field. With the utmost difficulty Margaret was
brought to consent to the proposal, and even then she hesitated and
grew pale. Indeed, the ill-fated heroine confessed that she feared
for her son, and intimated her wish that he should be sent to France,
there to remain till a victory had been won. But to this scheme decided
opposition was expressed. Somerset and the Lancastrian lords argued
that the Prince of Wales should remain in England to lead the adherents
of the Red Rose to battle, "he being," as they said, "the morning sun
of the Lancastrian hopes, the rays of which were very resplendent
to meet English eyes;" and the royal boy, we can well believe, was
prepared rather to die at once on a field of fame, than live through
years of exile to expire in inglorious obscurity.
At length Margaret yielded to the general wish, and the Lancastrian
chiefs formed their plans for mustering an army. No insuperable
difficulties presented themselves. Shortly before Barnet was fought,
John Beaufort and the Earl of Devon had gone westward from Coventry
to levy forces, and Jasper Tudor had been sent into Wales on a similar
errand. The idea of the Lancastrians was to draw together the men
enlisted in the west, to join Jasper Tudor, who was still zealously
recruiting in Wales, to secure the services of the archers in which
Lancashire and Cheshire abounded, and to summon the prickers of the
northern counties to that standard under which they had conquered at
Wakefield and Bernard's Heath. The plan of campaign was, as we shall
hereafter see, such as to place Edward's throne in considerable peril;
and the imaginations of the Lancastrian chiefs caught fire at the
prospect of triumph. Somerset openly boasted that the Red Rose party
was rather strengthened than enfeebled by Warwick's fall; and Oxford,
who had recovered from the bewilderment which had lost his friends a
victory at Barnet, wrote to his countess, Warwick's sister, "Be of good
cheer, and take no thought, for I shall bring my purpose about now by
the grace of GOD."
Unfortunately for the champions of the Red Rose, they had to contend
with no ordinary antagonist. Almost ere they had formed their plans,
the king was aware that they were in motion; and, somewhat alarmed, he
faced the new danger with the energy and spirit that had laid Warwick
low. Within a week after his victory at Barnet, Edward, having placed
Henry of Windsor securely in the Tower, and also committed George
Neville, Archbishop of York, to the metropolitan fortress, marched from
London with such forces as were at hand; and at Windsor, within the
castle of his regal ancestors, he remained nearly a week to celebrate
the feast of St. George, to await the remainder of his troops, and to
obtain such intelligence of the enemy's movements as might enable him
to defeat their project. As yet the king was utterly uncertain whether
the Red Rose chiefs intended marching toward London or leading their
adherents northward. His predicament was, therefore, awkward. If he
hastened on to protect the north from being invaded, he left London
at their mercy; if he remained to guard the capital, he left the
north free to their incursions. The king's great object, under such
circumstances, was to bring the Lancastrians to battle at the earliest
possible period. His army, indeed, was small; but, as affairs then
were, he had little hope of its being increased; and he appears to have
placed much reliance on the artillery, with which he was well provided.
But, anxious as Edward might be to meet his foes face to face, he
checked his natural impetuosity, and declined to advance a mile without
having calculated the consequences.
Meanwhile, the Lancastrian standard was set up at Exeter, and to "the
London of the West" the men of Devon, Somerset, and Cornwall were
invited to repair. The Red Rose chiefs perfectly comprehended the
dilemma in which Edward was placed, and were prepared to act just as
circumstances rendered safe and expedient. If they could draw their
potent foe from the neighborhood of London, they would march on the
metropolis. If they could keep him in the neighborhood of London,
they would cross the Severn, join Jasper Tudor, march into Lancashire
and Cheshire, and raise the men of the north to overturn the Yorkist
throne. One thing they did not desire--that was an early meeting with
the conqueror of Towton and Barnet.
At Exeter, Margaret of Anjou, with the Prince and Princess of Wales,
joined the adherents of the Red Rose, and prepared for those military
operations which, she hoped, would hurl Edward of York from the throne.
Ere venturing upon the terrible task, however, the queen, with the
Lancastrian chiefs, made a progress throughout the west to collect
recruits. From Exeter she proceeded with this object to Bath, a town
which then consisted of a few hundreds of houses, crowded within an
old wall, hard by the Avon, and which derived some renown from those
springs whose healing qualities Bladud had discovered under the
guidance of hogs, and whose virtues had recommended the place to the
Romans when they came to Britain as resistless conquerors.
At Bath, Margaret's friends learned that Edward was watching her
movements with a vigilance that rendered an early junction with Jasper
Tudor extremely desirable; and, having considerably increased in
number, the Lancastrians took their way to Bristol, a town with strong
walls, which the Flemings, brought over by Philippa of Hainault, had
made the seat of an extensive woolen trade.
The inhabitants of Bristol had manifested much loyalty to Edward, when,
during the harvest-time of 1462, the young Yorkist king appeared within
their walls, and executed Sir Baldwin Fulford and other Lancastrians.
Since that event, celebrated by Chatterton as "The Bristowe Tragedy,"
well-nigh nine years had elapsed, and, during that time, their
attention had been attracted from the Wars of the Roses to a war nearer
home. It is probable that the contentions of York and Lancaster had
excited less interest than the feud between the houses of Berkeley and
Lisle; and that the field of Barnet had created less excitement than
that of Nibley Green, where, one March morning in 1470, William Lord
Berkeley and Thomas Talbot, Lord Lisle, fought that battle known as
"The English Chevy Chase."
But, however loyal the citizens of Bristol might be to Edward of York,
they knew that Margaret of Anjou was not a woman to be trifled with;
and, however little they might relish the spectacle of Lancastrian
warriors crowding their streets, they were ready enough to furnish
the Red Rose chiefs with money, provisions, and artillery. After
receiving these supplies, the Lancastrian queen, anxious to cross the
Severn, relieved Bristol of her presence on the 2d of May--it was
a Thursday--and led her army toward that valley which, of old, had
been depicted by William of Malmesbury as rich in fruit and corn, and
abounding in vineyards.
The king's pursuit of his enemies had, in the mean time, been at once
absorbing as a game of chess and exciting as a fox-hunt. For a time,
he was unable to comprehend their movements, and forced to act with
extreme caution. Indeed, Edward was not unaware that the Lancastrian
leaders were exercising their utmost energy to outwit him; and he knew
full well that one false step on his part would, in all likelihood,
decide the campaign in their favor. At length, becoming aware that
they were spreading rumors of their intention to advance to London by
Oxford and Reading, the king concluded that their real intention was to
march northward; and, leading his army forth from Windsor, he encamped
at Abingdon, a town of Berkshire, on the River Thames. Learning, at
Abingdon, that Margaret and her captains were still at Wells, he
moved a little northward to Cirencester, in Gloucestershire, and was
then informed that the Lancastrians were about to leave Bath and give
him battle on the 1st of May--the anniversary of his ill-judged and
ill-starred marriage.
Eager for a conflict, the king marched his army out of the town of
Cirencester, and, encamping in the neighboring fields, awaited the
arrival of his foes. Edward soon found, however, that he had been
deceived; and, in hopes of finding them, marched to Malmesbury, in
Wiltshire. Learning, at that town, that the Lancastrians had turned
aside to Bristol, he went to Sodbury, a place about ten miles distant
from the emporium of the west: and, at Sodbury, from the circumstances
of his men, while riding into the town to secure quarters, encountering
a body of the enemy's outriders, and the Lancastrians having sent
forward men to take their ground on Sodbury Hill, he believed that
their army was at no great distance. Eager for intelligence, Edward
sent light horsemen to scour the country, and encamped on Sodbury Hill.
About midnight on Thursday, scouts came into the camp, and Edward's
suspense was terminated. It appeared beyond doubt that the Lancastrians
were on full march from Bristol to Gloucester; and the king, awake
to the crisis, lost no time in holding a council of war. A decision
was rapidly arrived at; and a messenger dispatched post-haste to
Richard, Lord Beauchamp of Powicke, then Governor of Gloucester, with
instructions to refuse the Lancastrians admittance and a promise to
relieve the city forthwith in case of its being assailed.
Events now hastened rapidly onward. The king's messenger had no time to
lose; for the Lancastrian army, having marched all night, was pushing
on toward the vale of Gloucester. The vale, as the reader may be aware,
is semicircular--the Severn forming the chord, the Cotswold Hills the
arc; and Cheltenham, Gloucester, and Tewkesbury making a triangle
with its area. Into the second of these towns Margaret expected to be
admitted; and she calculated on being enabled, under the protection of
its walls and castle, to pass the Severn without interruption, and to
form a junction with Jasper Tudor, who was all bustle and enthusiasm in
Wales.
A grievous disappointment awaited the Lancastrian army--a bitter
mortification the Lancastrian queen. On Friday morning, a few hours
after sunrise, Margaret of Anjou, with the warriors of the Red Rose,
appeared before Gloucester. But Beauchamp, having received Edward's
message, positively refused to open the gates; and when Margaret,
with a heavy heart, turned aside and proceeded toward Tewkesbury, he
still farther displayed his Yorkist zeal by hanging on the rear of the
Lancastrians and doing them all the mischief he could. Even Somerset
must have confessed that the aspect of affairs was now the reverse of
bright; and, after leaving Gloucester behind, every thing began to go
wrong. The march lay through woods and lanes, and over stony ground;
and the soldiers, hungry and foot-sore, were oppressed with the heat
of the weather. Moreover, the peasantry, inclined, for some reason or
other, to oppose the progress of the Lancastrians, secured the fords
by which the Severn might have been crossed; and Beauchamp not only
harassed the rear of the queen's army, but succeeded in capturing some
artillery, which she was in no condition to spare. At length, on Friday
afternoon, after having marched thirty-six miles, without rest, and
almost without food, the Lancastrians, weary and dispirited, reached
Tewkesbury, a little town standing on the left bank of the Severn, and
deriving some dignity from a Norman abbey, known far and wide as the
sepulchre of a mighty race of barons, whose chiefs fought at Evesham
and fell at Bannockburn. At this place, which had been inherited from
the De Clares, through Beauchamps and Despensers, by the Countess of
Warwick, the Lancastrian leaders halted to refresh their men.
Early on that morning, when the queen and her captains appeared before
Gloucester, Edward left Sodbury, and led his army over the Cotswolds,
whose sheep and shepherds old Drayton has celebrated. His soldiers
suffered much from heat, and still more for want of water; only
meeting, on their way, with one brook, the water of which, as men and
horses dashed in, was soon rendered unfit for use. Onward, however, in
spite of heat and thirst, as if prescient of victory, pressed Edward's
soldiers, sometimes within five miles of their enemies--the Yorkists
in a champaign country, and the Lancastrians among woods--but the
chiefs of both armies directing their march toward the same point.
At length, after having marched more than thirty miles, the Yorkists
reached a little village situated on the River Chelt, secluded in the
vale of Gloucester, and consisting of a few thatched cottages forming
a straggling street near a church with an ancient spire, which had
been erected in honor of St. Mary before the Plantagenets came to rule
in England. At this hamlet, which the saline springs, discovered some
centuries later by the flight of pigeons, have metamorphosed into a
beautiful and luxurious city, Edward halted to recruit the energies and
refresh the spirits of his followers. At Cheltenham the king received
intelligence that the foe was at Tewkesbury; and, marching in that
direction, he encamped for the night in a field hard by the Lancastrian
camp.
Ere the king reached Cheltenham the Lancastrians had formed their
plans. On arriving at Tewkesbury, Somerset, aware that the Yorkists
were fast approaching, intimated his intention to remain and give
Edward battle. Margaret, as if with the presentiment of a tragic
catastrophe, was all anxiety to cross the Severn; and many of the
captains sympathized with their queen's wish. Somerset, however,
carried his point; and, indeed, it is not easy to comprehend how the
Lancastrians could, under the circumstances, have attempted a passage
without exposing their rear to certain destruction. Somerset's opinion
on any subject may not have been worth much; but he does not appear
to have been in the wrong when he decided on encamping at Tewkesbury,
and when he declared his intention there to abide such fortune as GOD
should send.
So at Tewkesbury, through that summer night, within a short distance of
each other, the armies of York and Lancaster, under the sons of those
who, years before, had plucked the roses in the Temple Garden, and
encountered with mortal hatred in the streets of St. Albans, animated
moreover by such vindictive feelings as the memory of friends and
kinsmen slain in the field and executed on the scaffold could not fail
to inspire, awaited the light of another day, to fight their twelfth
battle for the crown of England.