THE HOUSES OF LANCASTER AND YORK: 1399 to 1485
Plantagenet:
“_Let him that is a true-born gentleman,
And stands upon the honour of his birth,
If he suppose that I have pleaded truth,
From off this briar pluck a white rose with me._”
Somerset:
“_Let him that is no coward nor no flatterer,
But dare maintain the party of the truth,
Pluck a red rose from off this thorn with me._”
SHAKSPEARE (_King Henry VI_, part 1, ii, 4).
The name of Henry of Bolingbroke, son of John of Gaunt, Duke of
Lancaster, reminds us that Richard II had been made to resign his crown,
and that his cousin had been proclaimed King as King Henry IV. We think,
too, of that sad death, or murder, of the unhappy Richard at Pontefract
Castle. All these things, in one way or another, are connected with the
history of the Abbey. Henry IV is not buried in the Abbey, but in
Canterbury Cathedral, opposite the Black Prince, and, like him, near the
shrine of St. Thomas. But although Westminster is not his last
resting-place, Henry IV is connected with the Abbey in a very special
way.
The story is familiar to us in the pages of Shakspeare. The King had
intended to set out for Palestine on a pilgrimage or crusade, and he had
heard a prophecy that he should die at Jerusalem. Just before he was
going to start he came to the Abbey to pray at the Confessor’s shrine.
While he was in the Chapel he was seized with mortal illness, and was
carried into the famous “Jerusalem Chamber,” which was part of the
Abbot’s house. The Jerusalem Chamber had been built not long before, and
was probably the only room near with a proper fireplace in it. It was
cold March weather, and Henry was laid in front of the fire. When he
came to himself a little he asked what that room was, and being told its
name, he said: “Praise be to the Father of Heaven! for now I know that I
shall die in this chamber, according to the prophecy made of me
beforesaid, that I should die in Jerusalem.”
Every one will remember how an old historian tells us that afterwards,
when the young Prince Harry was watching by his father, he took the
crown and put it on his own head, thinking that his father was dead. The
King, however, was not dead, and, turning round, he reproached the
prince for his heartless and undutiful hurry in taking the crown. Prince
Harry was very much grieved, and explained why he had done such a thing.
After Henry IV’s death, Prince Harry, now King Henry V, spent all that
day at Westminster, in sorrow and penitence for his wild life in the
past. At night he went and confessed his sins to a holy hermit who lived
close to the Abbey, and the hermit assured him that he would be
forgiven. As we all know, Henry V became a religious and determined man,
and a great soldier,—“Conqueror of his enemies and of himself.” Henry V
was crowned in the Abbey on Passion Sunday, 1413, a cold, snowy day.
The wars in France soon began, and in 1415 a “Te Deum” was sung in the
Abbey for Henry’s great victory at Agincourt, and the King attended this
service in person.
Like his father, Henry V had a great wish to go to Holy Land and conquer
the Holy Sepulchre from the infidels, but while he was hoping for this
crusade, he was stricken with illness at Vincennes, and died in 1422,
when he was only thirty-four.
It is said that the people of both Rouen and Paris were most anxious
that Henry should be buried in their town, but the King had said clearly
in his will that he wished to be buried at Westminster, and he had
described most carefully what he wanted his Chantry Chapel to be like.
The funeral of Henry V was the most splendid ever seen in the Abbey. The
great procession began in Paris, and escorted the body to Calais. It
then came on from Dover to London. James I, King of Scots, headed the
procession as chief mourner, and the widowed Queen, Katherine de Valois,
followed it.
The King’s tomb stands at the extreme eastern end of the Abbey, and over
it, between the tombs of Queen Eleanor and Queen Philippa, rises the
famous Chantry Chapel, where prayers were to be offered up for ever.
Among the statues that adorn the Chantry are those of St. George, the
patron saint of England, and St. Denys, the patron saint of France.
On a bar above the Chantry are hung King Henry V’s shield, saddle, and
helmet, just as the Black Prince’s armour is hung above his tomb in
Canterbury Cathedral.
The tomb below was once very splendid with gold and silver, and the
figure of King Henry had a silver head. But in the reign of Henry VIII
these magnificent decorations were stolen, and the robbers even carried
off the silver head of the effigy. All that remains of the effigy is the
figure of plain English oak.
We come next to the pious and gentle King Henry VI, who was so much
loved by his people, in spite of all the misfortunes of his reign. It is
sad to think how all Henry V’s conquests in France were lost one by one,
although it was a good thing for England in the end. But there is one
glorious memory connected with the wars of Henry VI’s reign, a memory
which we all love and revere, whether we are French or English. That is
the memory of Joan of Arc, that pure and noble young French girl whose
faith and courage saved her country. When we stand in the Abbey and
remember the Lancastrian Kings, it is good for us also to think of her.
Henry VI always intended to be buried in the Abbey, and one day, when he
was there, some one suggested to him that his father’s tomb should be
moved to one side, and that his own should be placed beside it. But
Henry answered: “Nay, let him alone: he lieth like a noble prince. I
would not trouble him.” At last Henry VI chose a grave for himself close
to the Confessor’s shrine; the spot was all marked out, and indeed the
tomb itself was ordered. Then came the Wars of the Roses, the defeat of
the Lancastrian party, and the imprisonment of Henry VI in the Tower of
London in 1461. After his mysterious death ten years later, his body was
buried at Chertsey Abbey. Afterwards, in the reign of Richard III, it
was moved to St. George’s Chapel, Windsor, where it still rests.
The French princess, Katherine de Valois, wife of Henry V and mother of
Henry VI, is now buried in Henry V’s Chantry. It will be remembered that
her second husband was Owen Tudor, and that their son, Edmund Tudor, was
the father of King Henry VII. After Katherine married Owen Tudor she
seemed to be quite forgotten, but when she died she was buried with all
honour in the old Lady Chapel. While Henry VII’s new Lady Chapel was
being built, the coffin was placed beside Henry V’s tomb, and remained
there in a most neglected state for many long years. Then it was removed
to a vault in the Chapel of St. Nicholas, and finally it was moved, by
permission of Queen Victoria, into Henry V’s Chantry, where at last poor
Queen Katherine rests in peace.
In 1461, when Henry VI was deposed, a prince of the House of York,
Edward IV, came to the throne. He died at Westminster, and had a great
funeral service in the Abbey, but he is buried in St. George’s Chapel,
Windsor, like his cousin, Henry VI.
The earliest monument of the House of York in the Abbey is the tomb of
Philippa, Duchess of York, in the Chapel of St. Nicholas. She was the
wife of Edward, second Duke of York, grandson of Edward III, who was
killed at Agincourt. After his death, Philippa was made Lady of the Isle
of Wight.
King Richard III is buried at Leicester, and after him came the poor
little Edward V, who, with his brother, Richard Duke of York, was
murdered in the Tower. Their bones remained at the Tower until the reign
of Charles II, when they were found under a staircase. Charles II
commanded that they should be brought to the Abbey, and they are placed
in a tomb in Henry VII’s Chapel. Strangely enough, both these little
princes are closely connected with Westminster. In 1470, Queen Elizabeth
Woodville, wife of Edward IV, had taken refuge in the Sanctuary at
Westminster. Nobody could dare to hurt any one who had taken sanctuary,
and so the Queen felt she was safe in that time of war and trouble. Here
Edward V was born. He was baptized in the Abbey, and the Abbot of
Westminster was one of his godfathers.
Then later on, after Edward IV’s death, when Richard III was trying to
get the crown for himself, Elizabeth Woodville again took shelter in the
Sanctuary at Westminster, and brought her five daughters and her second
son, the little Richard Duke of York. Edward V was already in the Tower.
Richard III sent to Westminster, and insisted that his young nephew
should be allowed to join Edward in the Tower. He dared not take him out
of Sanctuary by force, but he made the Archbishop of Canterbury persuade
the poor Queen to let the boy go. She was dreadfully grieved, and tried
all she could to keep her son safely with her, but in vain. They parted
with tears, and she never saw him again.
A little daughter of Edward IV, Margaret Plantagenet, is buried in a
tiny tomb in the Confessor’s Chapel. In the Islip Chapel is the grave of
Anne Mowbray, daughter of the Duke of Norfolk. She was betrothed to
Richard Duke of York when they were both little children of only five
years old.
Anne Neville, the unhappy wife of Richard III, and daughter of Warwick
“the Kingmaker,” lies in a forgotten grave in the South Ambulatory.
We see, then, how much there is in the Abbey to remind us of the Houses
of Lancaster and York, and of the Wars of the Roses, besides the great
wars in France.
But further, we shall now find that it was becoming more and more the
custom for the famous men of the age to be buried in the Abbey.
Richard Courtney, Bishop of Norwich, a great friend of Henry V, is
buried there. He died just before the Battle of Agincourt, and was
nursed by the King in his last illness. In St. Paul’s Chapel is the fine
tomb of Ludovic Robsert, Lord Bourchier, who fought at Agincourt and was
afterwards made the King’s Standard Bearer. Sir Humphrey Bourchier, who
died fighting on the Yorkist side at the Battle of Barnet in 1471, is
buried in Edmund’s Chapel. Sir Thomas Vaughan, Treasurer to Edward IV
and Chamberlain to Edward V, is buried in the Chapel of St. John the
Baptist.
While speaking of this time in English history, we must not forget one
man who did a very great and important work in the world, and who was
very closely connected with the Abbey, although he is not actually
buried there. This was William Caxton, the first English printer. Caxton
belongs almost entirely to the Lancastrian and Yorkist times, as he was
born in 1410, during the reign of Henry IV, and died in 1491, in the
reign of Henry VII. About the year 1471 (the year in which Henry VI
died) Caxton came to live in Westminster. He set up his printing-press
in a house quite close to the Abbey, and there he worked for the last
twenty years of his life. It seems that the Abbot of Westminster was
greatly interested in Caxton and his work, and one of his great friends
and patrons was the Lady Margaret, mother of King Henry VII. Caxton
printed several books for her. Caxton is buried quite near the Abbey, in
St. Margaret’s Churchyard. There is a fine stained-glass window to his
memory in St. Margaret’s Church. Caxton stood on the threshhold of the
modern world, and, as we realise the great changes brought about in
human life by the art of printing, we may think of that window in St.
Margaret’s, where Caxton is represented holding his motto: “Fiat Lux”
(let there be light), while below are Tennyson’s beautiful lines:
“Thy prayer was Light, more Light while time shall last,
Thou sawest the glories growing on the night;
But not the shadow which that light would cast
Till shadows vanish in the Light of light.”
With this thought in our minds we will turn to the next period of
English history.