A DOMESTIC TRAGEDY.
At the opening of the year 1477, Charles the Rash, Duke of Burgundy,
fell at Nanci, before the two-handed swords of the Swiss mountaineers,
leaving, by his first wife, Isabel of Bourbon, a daughter, Mary,
the heiress of his dominions. About the same time, George, Duke of
Clarence, and Anthony Woodville, Earl Rivers, happened to become
widowers. The duke and the earl, in other days rivals for the hand of
the heiress of Lord Scales, immediately entered the arena as candidates
for that of Mary of Burgundy, and their rivalry produced one of the
darkest domestic tragedies recorded in the Plantagenet annals.
Clarence appears to have been the first to urge his claims. Almost ere
the dust had time to gather on the coffin of his departed wife in the
Abbey of Tewkesbury, the bereaved husband of Isabel Neville applied
to his sister, the widow of Burgundy, to forward his suit with her
step-daughter. The widowed duchess was the reverse of unfavorable to a
matrimonial project so likely to advance the fortunes of her family,
and the heart of Clarence for a moment glowed with anticipations of a
great matrimonial success.
But the hopes which Clarence cherished of a marriage with the heiress
of Burgundy were rudely dispelled. The duke, whose shallow brain was
muddled with Malmsey, soon found that he was no match for veteran
courtiers. Experienced intriguers, the Woodvilles were prompt in their
measures to defeat any project that jarred with their interests; and
Elizabeth instilled into her husband's mind such suspicions as to
Clarence's intentions, that Edward not only refused to hear of an
alliance that "might enable Clarence to employ the power of Burgundy
to win the crown," but even let down his dignity so far as to propose
a marriage between Anthony, Earl Rivers, and the daughter of Charles
the Rash. The court of Burgundy, treating the proposal with the disdain
it deserved, gave the heiress to the Emperor Maximilian; and the
Woodvilles, finding their presumption checked, and resolved to console
themselves by making Clarence a victim, bent all their energies to
effect his ruin.
Circumstances were unfavorable to Clarence; for, since the duke's
confederacy with Warwick, no love had existed between him and the king.
Edward deemed that he owed his brother an injury; and that, at least,
was a kind of debt which Edward of York was never sorry to have an
opportunity of paying. The king's dislike was judiciously humored by
the queen's kindred; and a prophecy, that the crown should be seized
and the royal children murdered by one, the first letter of whose name
was G, took possession of his imagination. A fair excuse only was
wanting to get rid of Clarence, and a pretext was ere long found.
Among the Anglo-Norman families who during the fifteenth century
maintained territorial state in that county which had come with an
heiress of the Beauchamps to Richard Neville, and with the eldest
daughter of the king-maker to the royal duke by whom he was betrayed,
few were of higher consideration than the Burdets. One of the Burdets
had accompanied the Conqueror to England; another had sat as member
for Warwickshire in the Parliament of the second Edward; and a third,
Sir Nicholas, had fought with high distinction in the wars carried on
by the Duke of York in France. Falling at Pontoise on that day when
King Charles of France stormed the town, Nicholas left a son, Thomas,
who resided at Arrow, the seat of his family, and held an office in
Clarence's household.
Burdet had figured as a Yorkist and fought for the White Rose. Being
a follower of Clarence, however, he was regarded with some degree of
suspicion; and, having domestic troubles, his temper was probably
too much the worse for the wear to admit of his being suspected
without manifesting impatience. An accident, according to chroniclers,
occurred, which exasperated him to language so indiscreet as to cause
his own death and that of his patron.
Burdet had, among the deer in his park at Arrow, a white buck, of which
he was exceedingly proud. This buck was destined to be the cause of
much mischief; for one day, when Burdet was from home, the king, making
a progress through Warwickshire, went to Arrow, and entered the park to
divert himself with hunting. Unfortunately, Edward killed the favorite
buck of all others; and Burdet, being informed on his return of what
had happened, was enraged beyond measure. Indeed, it was said that the
worthy squire, regarding the whole affair as a premeditated insult,
lost his patience so completely as to express a wish "that the buck's
horns had been in the king's belly."
But, however that may have been, there lived at that time, under
Clarence's protection, an ecclesiastic named John Stacey, famed
for his learning and skill in astrology. Having been denounced as
a necromancer, and accused of exercising his unlawful art for the
destruction of Richard, Lord Beauchamp, Stacey was put to the rack
and tortured into naming Thomas Burdet as his accomplice in some
treasonable practices. Burdet was accordingly arrested on the charge
of conspiring to kill the king and the Prince of Wales by casting their
nativity, and of scattering among the people papers predicting their
death.
Having been taken to Westminster Hall, Burdet and Stacey were tried
before the Court of King's Bench. But that court was no longer presided
over by a Fortescue or a Markham, and it was in vain that Burdet
pleaded his innocence, declaring that, so far from having any design
against the king's life, he was ready to fight for the king's crown, as
he had done before. His fate was sealed: the jury returned a verdict
of "Guilty;" the knight and ecclesiastic were sentenced to death; and,
having been drawn from the Tower, they were executed as traitors at
Tyburn.
The matter did not rest here. On learning the result of his adherents'
trial, Clarence, who was in Ireland, naturally felt somewhat dismayed.
Recollecting how the proceedings against Eleanor Cobham had served as a
prelude to the destruction of Duke Humphrey, and apprehending in this
case a similar result, he determined to stir in his own defense, and
rushed into the snare which his enemies had set. Hurrying to England,
and reaching Westminster in the king's absence, he entered the council
chamber, showed the lords there assembled private confessions and
declarations of innocence made by Burdet and Stacey, and protested
vehemently against the execution that had taken place.
At Windsor the king received intelligence of the step Clarence had
taken; and the affair being reported to him in the worst light, he
appears to have been seized with something like temporary insanity, and
to have regarded Clarence's destruction as essential to his own safety
and that of his children. No sooner, in any case, was news conveyed
to him that Clarence was "flying in the face of all justice," than he
hastened to Westminster, summoned the duke to the palace, and ordered
him to be committed to the Tower.
Having pushed matters to this crisis, the Woodvilles did not allow
Edward's passion to cool. It was in vain that the lord chancellor
attempted to reconcile the king and the captive. A Parliament was
summoned to meet about the middle of January; and when, on the
appointed day, the English senators assembled at Westminster, the
judges were summoned to the House of Lords, and Clarence was brought
to the bar to be tried by his peers--the young Duke of Buckingham, who
had married the queen's sister, presiding as lord high steward, and
Edward appearing personally as accuser. Absurd as some of the charges
were, Clarence had no chance of escape. He was charged with having
dealt with the devil through necromancers; represented Edward as
illegitimate and without right to the throne; plotted to dethrone the
king and disinherit the king's children; retained possession of an act
of Parliament, whereby, in the reign of Henry, he had been declared
heir to the crown after Edward of Lancaster; purchased the support of
the Lancastrians by promising to restore their confiscated estates;
and warned his own retainers to be ready to take up arms at an hour's
notice. Clarence indignantly denied every charge; but his protestations
of innocence were as vain as those of Burdet had been. Edward appeared
bent on a conviction, and the peers had not the courage to resist such
a pleader. The royal brothers, indeed, would seem to have had all the
talk to themselves--"no one denying Clarence but the king, and no one
answering the king but Clarence." Even the self-sufficient Buckingham
contented himself with asking the judges "whether the matters proved
against Clarence amounted in law to high treason." The opinion of the
judges was altogether unfavorable to the duke. The legal functionaries
answered the lord high steward's question in the affirmative, and the
peers returned a unanimous verdict of "Guilty." On the 7th of February
Buckingham pronounced sentence of death.
When matters reached this alarming stage, the Duchess of York
interfered; and the king, in a somewhat relenting mood, delayed sending
his brother to the block. The Woodvilles, however, were not to be
baffled of their prey; and the House of Commons, acting under their
influence, petitioned for the duke's immediate execution. But the
son-in-law of Warwick, with all his failings, was still the idol of the
populace; and the policy of having him beheaded on Tower Hill was more
than doubtful.
Ere this, Clarence had been reconducted to the Tower, and lodged
in that part of the metropolitan fortress where resided the Master
Provider of the King's Bows. In a gloomy chamber of "The Bowyer Tower,"
the duke, sad and solitary, passed several weeks, while his enemies
decided what should be his fate. At length, about the beginning of
March, it was rumored that the captive had died of grief and despair.
The populace immediately raised a shout of indignation on hearing of
the death of their "Good Duke," and sternly refused to believe that he
had not had foul play. Ere long the story which Shakspeare has made so
familiar was whispered about.
The execution of Clarence having been determined on--such was the
popular account--he was allowed the privilege of choosing what death
he should die; and, having an objection to appear on the scaffold, he
elected to be drowned in that liquor with which he had so often washed
down care and remorse. A butt of Malmsey was accordingly introduced
to the gloomy chamber in which he was lodged; and, one end of the cask
having been knocked out, he was plunged into the wine, with his head
down, and held in that position till life was extinct. His body was
carried to Tewkesbury, and laid beside that of his duchess in the abbey
church.
Having accomplished their revenge on the king's brother, the queen's
kinsmen looked out for something wherewith to gratify their avarice. On
this point the Woodvilles were, as usual, successful. To Earl Rivers
was given part of the estates of Clarence; and to the Marquis of Dorset
the wardship of the son of the murdered duke. The king, however, was
the reverse of satisfied. He never recalled the name of Clarence
without a feeling of penitence; and afterward, when sued for any man's
pardon, he was in the habit of exclaiming mournfully, "Ah! I once had
an unfortunate brother, and for his life not one man would open his
mouth."