Red Rose And White Rose.
Edward IV. (1461-1483).
Edward V. (1483).
Richard III. (1483-1485).
If the throne of Henry IV. had always appeared to him unsteady,
from the morrow of usurpation which had not caused a single drop
of blood to be shed, that of Edward IV., based upon a transitory
success of his arms, was destined to cost much bloodshed and many
tears to England. The coronation rejoicings were immediately
followed by a renewal of the hostilities. Scarcely had he been
proclaimed when the new king left London. Queen Margaret and the
Duke of Somerset had assembled their troops in the environs of
York, and were preparing to march upon the capital. Edward, upon
the advice of Warwick, did not allow them time for that purpose.
The northern counties were in general favourably disposed towards
the Red Rose, and the two armies were more considerable than
ever, when they met on the 28th of March near Towton. The snow
fell in abundance and blinded the combatants, but their fury knew
no obstacle. The struggle lasted from nine o'clock in the morning
until three, when the Lancastrians, broken up and disbanded,
attempted to fly. The river Cock was a barrier wherein many of
their number were drowned. The Earl of Northumberland and six
barons had remained upon the field of battle; the Earls of
Devonshire and Wiltshire were captured and beheaded, their heads
replacing those of the Duke Richard and the Earl of Rutland upon
the gates of York.
{82}
Thirty-eight thousand combatants, it is said, perished on this
fatal day: the Hundred Years' War had not cost as much blood to
England as a single battle in the civil war. Queen Margaret, her
husband, and her son, accompanied by the Dukes of Somerset and
Exeter, took refuge in Scotland. Edward IV., triumphant, returned
to London, there to conclude the ceremony of his coronation.
Formally recognized by Parliament, no allusion was made to the
intellectual weakness of King Henry or to the misgovernment of
the queen and her favourites: all the arguments were confined to
the legitimate rights to the throne asserted by the House of York
in the person of King Edward. Henry and all his family were
declared usurpers, and their partisans were all included in the
same sentence: those of the Lancastrian barons who had not
perished upon the field of battle were condemned to death; all
their property was to be confiscated and their families degraded.
Edward IV. was anxious to crush his enemies by a single blow.
Betrayed by the fortune of war and abandoned by her terrified
partisans. Queen Margaret knew neither discouragement nor
fatigue. Closely linked to the Scotch by an old alliance which
she had sealed by ceding to them the town of Berwick, she
essayed, with their assistance, two or three incursions into the
northern counties of England; but her mediocre success decided
her to seek help in her native country, France, where she had
rendered many services and retained many friends. In the month of
April, 1462, she embarked at Kircudbright, and landed in
Brittany. The duke presented her with twelve thousand golden
crowns, and she took the road to Chinon, where the court of
France was situated.
{83}
Charles VII. was dead, and Louis XI. had succeeded him. A cold
politician, he was too shrewd to allow himself to be inveigled by
the tears and the beauty of the queen into a disastrous war; he
therefore at the outset refused all assistance; but when she
spoke of ceding Calais as the price of his services, the monarch
somewhat relaxed his sternness, gave some money to the queen, and
permitted her to recruit soldiers in his kingdom. A famous
knight, René de Brézé, seneschal of Normandy, ardently devoted to
Margaret, placed himself at the head of the two thousand men that
he had raised for her, partly at his own expense; a few vessels
were equipped, and the queen started on her return to Scotland.
The English exiles and a certain number of irregular border
troops in a short time joined her, and three fortresses of
Northumberland fell into her hands. But the Earl of Warwick was
advancing with an army of twenty thousand men; the Lancastrians
divided their forces in order to preserve their conquests; the
queen regained her vessels. The waves were as hostile to her as
the land; the ships were destroyed in a storm; the queen and
Brézé arrived at Berwick in a fishing-smack; five hundred French
troops, which she had left behind her to defend Holy Island, were
slaughtered to a man, and the three castles were compelled to
surrender after a vigorous resistance. They had however
capitulated upon honourable terms. The Duke of Somerset and Sir
Richard Percy made their submission to King Edward, who admitted
them to mercy, while Margaret was wandering with the seneschal
upon the frontiers of England, in vain endeavoring to rally her
scattered and terrified adherents.
{84}
It was in this winter campaign, one day in December, that the
queen, accompanied only by her son and a feeble following, fell
into the hands of a band of brigands. She had been stripped of
everything, her attendants were killed or captured, and she was
attempting to fly with her son, when one of the bandits pounced
upon her. Margaret turned round, and taking the little prince by
the hand, she advanced resolutely towards the outlaw, "Here is
the son of your king," she said; "I confide him to you." All
generous feeling had not been extinguished in the soul of the
brigand: he extended his protection to the mother and the child,
gave them the shelter of his hut for the night, and on the morrow
conducted them to the outskirts of the forest. King Henry was
conveyed to Wales and placed in a fortress, while queen Margaret
recrossed the sea to seek fresh assistance on the Continent. She
remained there for a long while. Louis XI. rarely supported the
unfortunate; the Duke Philip of Burgundy did not wish to set
himself at variance with England, whose commerce was of
importance to his dominions, and the poor princess, supported by
a few secret gifts, royal alms which scarcely sufficed for her
subsistence, took refuge in the Duchy of Bar, which still
belonged to her father. There she was unceasing in her efforts to
find enemies for King Edward and partisans for her husband and
her son.
{85}
Meanwhile the war recommenced in England without her, struck the
last blow to her hopes. The Duke of Somerset and Percy had again
revolted, and in the month of April, 1464, King Henry, dragged
from his peaceful retreat, was brought to the camp of his
partisans. Lord Montague, the younger brother of the Earl of
Warwick, assembled together the Yorkists, and on the 25th of
April at Hedgley moor, and on the 15th of May, at Hexham, the two
Lancastrian corps were defeated in succession. Percy died
fighting; the Duke of Somerset, Lord de Rods, and Lord Hungerford
were executed; Sir Ralph Grey, formerly a Yorkist, but since
become a Lancastrian in consequence of a disappointment in
ambition, was captured at Bamborough by the Earl of Warwick, and
suffered the doom of a traitor. Animosities and vengeance were
accumulating for the future, but the present seemed to smile upon
King Edward; King Henry had wandered during two months in
Lancashire and Westmoreland, from castle to castle, from cottage
to cottage, without any one dreaming of betraying him, without
meeting a heart hard enough to refuse him succor and protection.
At length, in the month of July, he was seized, delivered up to
his enemies and conducted to the Tower. The war had become very
cruel, and the troops had grown accustomed to many crimes, but
none dared to lay a hand upon "the sacred head of the peaceful
usurper," as Shakspeare calls him; the halo of his fervent piety
protected him against all violence. He led a peaceful life in his
prison, while Edward IV. was demolishing with his own hands the
throne which he had conquered at the cost of so many sufferings.
The Duchess of Bedford, Jacquetta of Luxembourg, had had several
children by her marriage with Sir Richard Woodville. The eldest
of her daughters, Elizabeth, married at an early age to Sir John
Grey, who was killed at the second battle of St. Alban's in the
ranks of the Lancastrians, begged of the king the restitution of
her property.
{86}
She was beautiful, skilful, ambitious: Edward IV. conceived an
affection for her, and secretly married her on the 1st of May,
1464. It was on the 29th of September only that he dared to
declare this union to his brothers, the Dukes of Clarence and
Gloucester, and to his redoubtable ally, the Earl of Warwick, or
the "Kingmaker," as he was called. Their dissatisfaction was
great, but they contrived to restrain it. Elizabeth Woodville was
solemnly recognized, in the month of December, at a great
national council; and on the 25th of May, following she was
crowned at Westminster with the usual ceremonies. Her Uncle,
James of Luxembourg, had come to England upon this occasion in
order to raise the family of the new queen a little. "Her father,
Sir Richard, was but an esquire in our remembrance," it was said
among the people. Future splendors were destined to efface the
meanness of the origin. With Elizabeth, his family ascended the
throne. Sir Richard was made Earl of Rivers, and soon afterwards
Constable, and the queen married her sisters to the heirs of the
noblest houses. Offices and honours poured down upon the Greys
and Woodvilles; and the Nevils, formerly all-powerful by right of
their services and their swords, saw their influence decrease day
by day; the king no longer asked their advice, and did not
trouble himself as to their inclination. An annoying incident
raised their anger to the highest pitch.
Warwick had for some time been engaged in negotiations for the
marriage of the Princess Margaret of York, sister of Edward, with
a prince of the royal house of France.
{87}
The alliance of the princess was equally sought by the Count of
Charolais, son of the Duke of Burgundy; but the "Great Earl" was
opposed to this marriage, and, authorized by Edward, he repaired
to France to conclude terms with King Louis XI. He resided at
Rouen in the month of June 1467, beside the royal palace, and the
King of France saw him at all hours of the day and night, in
great intimacy, negotiating with that air of mystery which he
loved to wear everywhere. Warwick was on his return to London, in
the month of July, accompanied by the ambassadors of France,
entrusted to conclude the royal alliance, when he learnt that the
Bastard of Burgundy had been at the court for several days past
under the pretext of a passage of arms, and that the marriage of
Margaret of York with the Count of Charolais was almost decided
upon. The last obstacle disappeared when the Duke Philip died
suddenly on the 15th of July, leaving to his son vast dominions,
a rich treasury, and a position in Europe superior to that of
most of the crowned heads. The indignation of Warwick was not the
less ardent: he complained of having been deceived, and retired
to his castle of Middleham. King Edward feigned to be uneasy at
the anger of the Earl: he doubled his guards as a rumor had been
spread that Warwick was won over to the House of Lancaster by
King Louis XI. Warwick returned for a moment at the entreaty of
his brother, the Archbishop of York; but the Woodvilles remained
all powerful, and the breach became wider every day: Edward with
difficulty endured the haughty independence of the man who had
made him king; he saw him now, supported by the Duke of Clarence,
the heir presumptive to the throne (Elizabeth had daughters
only), who had recently married, at Calais, Lady Isabel, the
eldest daughter of Warwick.
{88}
An insurrection broke out almost at the same moment in Yorkshire,
directed especially against the relatives of Queen Elizabeth, who
were accused of oppression. Lord Montague, who was present in the
North, did not oppose the movement, which however spread with
such rapidity that the king, having arrived at Newark, was
compelled to retreat precipitately to Nottingham. He wrote with
his own hand to Calais, begging the Duke of Clarence and the Earl
of Warwick to come to his aid. But before their arrival the
insurgents had defeated the Earl of Pembroke at Edgecote, on the
26th of July. Being captured in the pursuit, Earl Rivers and Sir
John Woodville, the father and brother of the queen, as well as
the Earl of Devon, had been beheaded. It was affirmed that the
rebels were acting in concert with Warwick. When he at length
landed in England, the king was almost alone at Olney, and the
insurgents were advancing against him, but the presence of the
Earl soon caused them to retreat. As they returned to their farms
and heaths, Warwick conducted Edward IV. to Middleham, the
prisoner of his deliveries. England now had two kings, both
captives.
Warwick did not yet think of changing the rose which he wore upon
his helmet; a fresh insurrection of the partisans of Henry VI.
compelled him to march against them. But the army murmuring at
the captivity of the king, it was necessary to show him to the
troops, and the Lancastrians being defeated, harmony appeared to
be re-established between the king and the earl. Edward
re-entered London; he had purchased his liberty by great gifts.
The reconciliation was, however, only apparent: two or three
fresh quarrels ended in a victory of the king over the insurgents
of Lincolnshire, who were secretly abetted by Clarence and
Warwick.
{89}
Edward accused them publicly of high treason. The earl did not
feel himself powerful enough to struggle arms in hand; he
embarked for Calais; but the news of his rebellion had preceded
him there; the cannon of the town were pointed against his
vessels, and the lieutenant whom he had himself chosen denied him
the entrance to the port. The Duchess of Clarence brought into
the world her first-born son in her ship, before the town, and it
was with great difficulty that a glass of wine was obtained to
restore strength to her; "which was," says Commynes, "great
severity for a servant to show towards his lord."
Warwick sought a refuge with King Louis, XI. The friendly
relations which he had contracted with him had never been broken
off: the astute monarch received the fugitives and installed
them, at first, at Valognes; he next received them at Tours and
at Amboise, notwithstanding the anger of the Duke of Burgundy,
several of whose vessels had been captured by Warwick. By way of
reprisal, the French merchants who had repaired to the fair at
Antwerp had been cast into prison by Charles the Bold. Louis XI.
ridiculed this act and continued to shuffle the cards, hoping to
secure the help of England against the duke, when the Kingmaker
should again become all-powerful in in his country.
It was at Amboise that Warwick and Queen Margaret met secretly,
through the agency of the King of France. For fifteen years past
the queen had attributed all her misfortunes to Warwick; the earl
had not forgotten that she had sent to the scaffold his father,
his brother, and his best friends; but a common and more fervent
hatred united them.
{90}
Margaret consented to the marriage of Prince Edward, her son,
with the second daughter of the earl, who thus assured the crown
to his children, should he either succeed in overthrowing Edward
IV. in favour of the Lancastrians, or should he be induced to
place Clarence upon the throne. Thanks to Louis XI., they
contrived for the time being to amuse or to quiet the Duke of
Clarence, notwithstanding all the efforts that the king, his
brother, made to sever him from his allies, and Warwick shortly
afterwards set sail, furnished with men and money. Charles of
Burgundy had in vain placed in the Channel a fleet destined to
arrest him; the earl landed on the 13th of September, 1470, upon
the coast of Devonshire, and the entire population hastened under
his banners. Sermons were preached in London in favour of King
Henry, and Warwick turned his steps in the direction of the
Trent. Edward IV. had been summoned to the North a short time
before by a fresh insurrection; but the soldiers convoked under
the banner of the White Rose did not respond to the appeal; those
who hitherto had marched with Edward abandoned him. Warwick
continued to advance; the position of King Edward became
desperate. He was brave and resolute, but he took the course of
flying. Two little Dutch vessels lay moored on the coast, at the
mouth of the Wash: he threw himself into them with a few friends,
without money and without resources, and crowded sail for the Low
Countries, with great difficulty escaping the pirates who
infested the seas. He landed near Alkmaar, and the governor
"immediately sent tidings to the Duke of Burgundy, who would as
well have liked to learn the death of the king," says Commynes,
"for he was in great apprehension of the Earl of Warwick, who was
his enemy and had become all-powerful in England."
{91}
In effect, everybody in London cried, "Long live King Henry!"
Warwick had released from the Tower the poor monarch whom he
himself had led there five years before. Queen Elizabeth
Woodville had shut herself up in Westminster Abbey with her
mother and her three daughters. It was there that she gave birth
to a son, a new pretender to the throne, whom the Duke of
Clarence looked upon with as much disfavour as upon the
restoration of Henry VI. Louis XI. caused thanksgivings to be
offered up to God in all the churches of France for the great
victory gained by Henry of Lancaster, the legitimate King of
England over the usurping traitor, the Earl of March. The joy of
the king was the more keen inasmuch as Warwick had already
returned to him a portion of the money which he had borrowed. In
reality, some pirates had seized the vessel and the gold which it
carried, but the good intention of the earl was evident, and
Louis XI. reckoned upon receiving back his advances, while
assuring the power to the enemies of his good cousin of Burgundy;
the politic monarch rubbed his hands.
Meanwhile, affairs had already changed their aspect in England.
As Louis XI. had assisted Warwick, the Duke of Burgundy assisted
Edward: he had given him vessels and a small army corps, besides
hiring for his service a certain number of pirates. It was with
these feeble resources that Edward IV. disembarked on the 16th of
March at Ravenspur, where Bolingbroke had landed seventy-two
years before to dethrone King Richard II.
{92}
The reception accorded by the people was not encouraging; none
planted the White Rose. Edward no longer spoke of his rights to
the throne; he wished only, he said, to reclaim his title of Duke
of York. But when he had crossed the Trent he found himself
surrounded by his partisans: every day his forces continued to
swell, the Marquis of Montague, brother of Warwick, had suffered
him to pass. Before arriving at Coventry he had resumed all the
royal insignia. The army of Warwick was coming to encounter him;
but scarcely had the two parties found themselves face to face,
when the Duke of Clarence went over, with all his troops, to the
side of his brother. Thus weakened, Warwick was compelled to
retreat without fighting. Edward marched upon London, where he
was received with acclamations by the populace. The sermons
preached from the cross at St. Paul's in favour of King Henry,
and the open hospitality of the Earl of Warwick, had already been
forgotten. A son had been born to King Edward who had not yet
seen him, and the "wealthy merchants who had lent money to him,"
says Commynes, "hoped to be paid when he should have regained
possession of the throne." The wives of the great citizens were
accustomed to his acts of gallantry. London was merrymaking, but
the Lancastrians were already in battle array on the plain of
Barnet, within five leagues of the capital. Edward marched
against them with the Duke of Clarence. The latter was troubled
and uneasy: his wife was a daughter of Warwick, and she had great
influence over him; he caused a proposal for his mediation to be
made to his father-in law. "Tell your master," cried the earl in
indignation, "that Warwick is faithful to his oath, and is better
than the treacherous and perfidious Clarence. He has referred
this to the sword, which will decide the quarrel." It was on
Easter day: the morrow was awaited for the fight.
{93}
The struggle began on the 14th of April, at daybreak. Warwick
always fought on horseback; but his brother, Lord Montague, who
had joined him, urged him to dismount. "Charge at the head of
your men-at-arms," he said. Edward IV. was present in person
among his partisans, sword in hand, doing good work. It was not
long before Warwick was killed as well as his brother: but the
rout of the Lancastrians did not stay the slaughter: on returning
from Flanders, King Edward had resolved no longer to spare as
formerly, the common people; he had conceived a great hatred of
the peasants, so often favourable to his enemies. The field of
battle was covered with corpses, when Edward IV. re-entered into
London, bringing with him the body of the Kingmaker, which was
exposed during three days at Westminster, in order that all might
assure themselves of his death. King Henry was reconducted to the
Tower.
Edward IV., however, had not yet triumphed over his most
implacable adversary. Queen Margaret, who had been detained upon
the coast of France by contrary winds, landed in England on the
very day of the battle of Barnet. She soon learnt that her
friends had been beaten, that Warwick was killed, that King Henry
was again a prisoner. She advanced, however, with her son and the
auxiliaries whom she had brought from the Continent. The
population was hostile to her; she found the fords and bridges of
the Severn defended by her enemies, and was unable to join Lord
Pembroke, who still held out in Wales. On the 4th of May,
Margaret met King Edward near Tewkesbury.
{94}
Her troops had skilfully intrenched themselves, but the Duke of
Somerset wished to make the attack in the open field; a small
number of soldiers followed him, and when he attempted to fall
back upon his ranks, the Duke of Gloucester had already broken
through them. The queen and the prince were made prisoners. The
young pretender was brought to Edward. "Who conducted you
hither?" cried the king angrily. "My right and the crown of my
father," said the son of Margaret proudly. Edward struck him upon
the mouth with his iron gauntlet; the prince staggered, the
servants of the king threw themselves upon him and slaughtered
him. The great noblemen who accompanied Margaret had taken refuge
in Tewkesbury church. The respect accorded to the sacred
precincts had protected the wife and the children of King Edward
while his enemies were all powerful in London; but no
consideration divine or human could stay him: he entered the
church, sword in hand. A priest, holding aloft the host, threw
himself between the king and his victims: he succeeded in
arresting him for a moment; an amnesty was even promised; but,
two days later, all the Lancastrians who had taken refuge in
Tewkesbury church were dragged forcibly therefrom, and were
beheaded.
Queen Margaret had followed her conquerer: her haughty courage
had resisted all defeats, all treacheries: she did not succumb
beneath the last misfortune. She lived for five years a prisoner,
alone and poor, first at the Tower, then at Windsor, and finally
at Wallingford. King Louis XI. at length obtained her liberty:
she returned to France there to live for several years more. She
died in 1482.
{95}
The king, her husband, had not survived the battle of Tewkesbury:
on the morrow of the triumphal entry of Edward IV. into London,
Henry VI. was found dead in the Tower; it was said that the Duke
of Gloucester had stabbed him with his own hands. Remorse for
this crime perhaps pursued him: when he was king, Richard III.
caused the body of Henry VI. to be removed from the abbey of
Chertsey, where it had been deposited; the bones of the holy
king, it was said, accomplished miracles. When Henry VII. wished
to bring them back to Westminster, they could not be found.
The White Rose triumphed everywhere. The great Lancastrian
noblemen were dead or prisoners; the Earl of Pembroke and some
others had succeeded in taking refuge upon the Continent; the
little Prince of Wales had been declared heir presumptive to the
throne by the great council of the peers; but the king and his
brothers could not live in peace. Clarence and Gloucester were
contending with each other for the inheritance of the Earl of
Warwick. Gloucester had married the Princess Anne, widow of the
young Edward, assassinated at Tewkesbury. In vain had Clarence
concealed her; Gloucester had pursued his prey even under the
disguise of a servant, and King Edward had been compelled to
divide between the two rivals the property of the "great earl,"
leaving his widow in veritable misery; "for," says Commynes,
"among all the sovereignties in the world of which I have
knowledge where public affairs are best managed, that in which
there is the least violence towards the people, where there are
no buildings cast down or demolished for war, is England; but
misfortune and fate fall upon those who have caused the war."
{96}
The House of the Nevilles was ruined; the enmity between the two
brothers of the king was not less on that ground: it was to bring
about fresh crimes.
The internal struggles appeared to be drawing to an end. King
Edward began to return to external wars; the Duke of Burgundy
urged him to lend him his co-operation against Louis XI. Edward
crossed the sea with a small army and went to Calais; but "before
he started from Dover," writes Commynes, "he sent to the king our
lord one single herald, named Jarretière, who was a native of
Normandy. He brought to the king a written challenge from the
King of England, in beautiful language and in a beautiful style;
and I think that never had Englishman put his hand to it." Edward
publicly claimed the kingdom of France as his possession, "in
order that he might restore the Church, the nobles, and the
people to their former liberty," he said. The king read the
letter in private, then retired to his closet, "tout fin seul;"
he caused the herald to be summoned thither. "Your king does not
come here of his own accord," he said to Jarretière, "he is
constrained by the Duke of Burgundy." And proceeding from this to
make overtures of friendship to the King of England, "he gave to
the said herald three hundred crowns, counting them with his own
hand, and promised him a thousand of them if the arrangement
should be made, and publicly caused a beautiful piece of crimson
velvet, consisting of thirty ells, to be given to him."
{97}
Jarretière, thus treated, advised King Louis XI. to enter into
relations with Lord Howard or Lord Stanley, favourite ministers
of Edward, who were not in favour of the war. The English forces
which had recently arrived in Calais were more considerable than
had at first been believed in France; the King of England had
concluded a truce with Scotland, and he had imposed on his
vassals and the great citizens a new species of tax, under the
form of free gifts, called "benevolences." Fifteen or eighteen
thousand men were assembled at Calais; but the Duke of Burgundy
had dissipated his resources elsewhere, and he presented himself
at the place of meeting with a handful of soldiers. The
discontent which this deception caused to King Edward inclined
him to lend an ear to the proposals of Louis XI. The English army
had been inactive at Péronne for two months, and the gold of the
King of France circulated freely among the courtiers of Edward.
Fifty thousand crowns had already been promised for the ransom of
Queen Margaret, when the two sovereigns met at Pecquigny, on each
side of a barrier, upon a bridge thrown across the Somme. "In the
middle was a trellis, such as is made in the cages of lions, and
there were no holes between the bars larger than to allow one's
arm to be put in with ease." King Louis arrived first, having
taken the precaution, on that day, to cause Commynes to be clad
in the same manner as himself, "for he had long been accustomed
to have somebody who dressed similarly to himself." The King of
England entered, accompanied by his chamberlain. Lord Hastings:
"He was a very handsome prince, and tall, but he began to grow
fat, and I had formerly seen him more handsome; for I have no
remembrance of ever having seen a more handsome man than he was
when Lord Warwick made him fly from England. They embraced
through the apertures; the King of England made a profound
reverence, and the King began to speak, saying, 'My cousin,
welcome; there is no man in the world whom I should so much
desire to see as you, and praised be God for that we are here
assembled with such good intent.' The King of England replied
upon this point in pretty good French."
{98}
King Louis had invited Edward IV. to come and see him in Paris,
but he was rather uneasy lest his politeness should be accepted.
"He is a very handsome king," he said to Commynes, "he greatly
loves the ladies; he might find one among them in Paris who might
say so many fine words to him that she would make him wish to
return. His predecessors have been to much in Paris and in
Normandy. His company is worth nothing on this side of the sea
beyond it, I am quite willing to have him for a good brother and
friend." All the efforts of Louis XI. tended to conclude the
treaty as soon as possible, in order to see the English return to
their country; and for this purpose, he lavished the treasures
amassed with so much care. A pension of fifty thousand livres was
assured to King Edward; the hand of the dauphin was promised to
Princess Elizabeth; the great noblemen of the English court had
pensions and presents like their master, and a truce of seven
years was signed. The people murmured in England; for the extent
of the preparations and the importance of the sums obtained by
Edward had created hopes for at least the conquest of Anjou,
Maine, Normandy, and Guienne. The French noblemen despised the
policy of their king, who purchased the retreat of his enemies
instead of repulsing them by arms; but Edward had recrossed the
sea, and Louis XI. paid the pensions regularly; he even went so
far as to demand a receipt, 'and despatched Maître Pierre Clairet
to Lord Hastings, the great chamberlain, to remit two thousand
crowns in gold "au soleil" to him; for in no other kind was money
ever given to great foreign noblemen.
[Image]
Interview Between Edward IV. and Louis XI.
{99}
And the said Clairet requested that he would deliver to him a
letter of three lines, informing the king how he had received
them, for the said nobleman was suspicious. But the chamberlain
replied, "My lord master, that which you say is very reasonable;
but this gift comes of the good pleasure of the king your lord.
If it please you that I take it you will place it here in my
sleeve and will have no letter or acknowledgment for it, for I
will not have it said, 'The great chamberlain of the King of
England has been a pensioner of the King of France,' or that 'my
receipts should be found in his exchequer chamber.' With which
the king was much incensed, but commended and esteemed the said
chamberlain for it and always paid him without a receipt."
The Duke Charles the Bold had recently perished at the battle of
Nancy, in his campaign against the Duke René of Lorraine (1477).
His only daughter, Mary of Burgundy, inherited his vast
dominions. The Duke of Clarence, a widower since the recent death
of the daughter of Warwick, at once claimed the hand of the young
duchess. He was already in bad odour at court, and this act of
ambition excited the jealousy of the king his brother. Clarence
was violent: he complained of the injustice used towards two of
his servants, who had been accused of sorcery, condemned and
executed. He protested so loudly, that the king caused him to be
arrested, and, accusing him of treason, ordered him to be
imprisoned in the Tower.
{100}
The prince appeared before the peers, being prosecuted by the
king in person: no baron opened his mouth for his defence; but
Clarence protested his innocence at each accusation of magic,
rebellion, and conspiracy. Nevertheless the peers declared him
guilty, and the House of Commons insisted shortly afterwards upon
the carrying out of the sentence. The trial had been public; the
execution was secret: on the 18th of February, the report of the
death of the duke spread through London. None knew how he had
died, but it was related among the people that the Duke of
Gloucester had caused him to be drowned in a butt of Malmsey
wine. The well-known tastes of the unhappy duke had no doubt
brought about this supposition, for the most absolute mystery
continues to reign over the fate of Clarence. Richard, duke of
Gloucester, maintained the best relations with the queen, and he
received of the king a large portion of the estates confiscated
from Clarence, while Edward continued to lead a life of feasting
and debauchery, everywhere surrounded by ladies whom he treated
magnificently, causing silken tents to be set up for them "when
he went to the hunting-field," says Commynes; "for no man
humoured so much his inclination."
Meanwhile war had recommenced with Scotland. King James I. had
fallen beneath the dagger of assassins in 1437. His son James
II., whose long minority and bad government had thrown Scotland
back into the disorder which his father had attempted to dispel,
was killed in 1460, by the explosion of a cannon which he was
testing. James III., who had succeeded him while yet a child, was
gentle and timid, little fitted to reign over his turbulent
barons.
{101}
Meanwhile the Duke of Gloucester, entrusted by his brother to
support the war, had achieved no success; but the treason of the
Duke of Albany, brother of James III., opened up new hopes to
England in 1482. Berwick had been delivered up to Gloucester, and
the King of Scotland, having advanced to repulse the English, saw
his favourite Cochrane carried off by the conspirators, who hung
him upon Lauder bridge and took James as their prisoner to
Edinburgh. He was still detained in the castle, when the Duke of
Gloucester entered the capital with the Duke of Albany. The
presence of an English army opened the eyes of the Scottish
barons: they came to an understanding with Albany, who returned
into favour with his brother. King James was restored to liberty
and the English retired, in consequence of the cession of the
town of Berwick and a promise of certain sums of money.
Gloucester re-entered London, where King Edward was meditating a
fresh war.
The Princess Elizabeth was sixteen years of age: for ten years
past she had been betrothed to the dauphin, but King Louis did
not claim his daughter-in-law. A rumour was even abroad that he
had entered into negotiations with the Duke Maximilian of
Austria, in order to obtain the hand of the Princess Margaret,
his only daughter by Mary of Burgundy, who was killed by a fall
from a horse in the month of February, 1482. While all the
princes of Europe were contending against each other for the
heiress of the Dukes of Burgundy, Louis XI. had stealthily taken
possession of a portion of her dominions, and these he claimed as
a dowry to "Margot, the gentle damsel," as Margaret of Austria
was called.
{102}
The little princess was only three years of age; but the towns of
Flanders which held her in custody, accepted the French alliance
rejected by Maximilian, and consigned her into the hands of Louis
XI. During all these negotiations the King of France had
contrived to amuse Edward IV. by purchasing the silence of Lord
Howard, the ambassador at Paris; but when the marriage contract
was solemnly celebrated at Paris, "with great festivals and
solemnities. King Edward was much irritated therewith. Whoever
had joy in this marriage, it displeased the king of England
bitterly," says Commynes, "for he held it as so great a shame and
mockery, and conceived so great a grief for it, as soon as he
learnt the news of it, that he fell ill and died therefrom,
although others say that it was a catarrh." King Edward IV. was
not yet forty-one, when he expired on the 9th of April, 1483,
repenting, it was said, of all the wrong that he had done, and
ordering his debts to be paid to all those of whom he had
extorted money; but the treasury was empty, and the injured
persons were obliged to content themselves with the repentance
and the good will of the dying sovereign. Cruel and suspicious,
avaricious, prodigal, and debauched, King Edward IV. had no other
quality than the bravery which had placed him upon the throne; he
left two sons, aged thirteen and eleven years, unhappy children,
confided to an imprudent and frivolous mother, and an uncle as
ambitious as corrupt.
At the moment when King Edward was dying in London, his brother
Richard, duke of Gloucester was upon the frontiers of Scotland,
at the head of the army, and the Prince of Wales was at Ludlow
Castle, the residence of his uncle, Lord Rivers.
{103}
While the young king was returning slowly to the capital,
accompanied by a small body of troops, the Duke of Gloucester, in
great mourning, repaired to York with a numerous escort, caused
the Church ceremonials to be solemnly celebrated in honour of the
deceased monarch, made [an] oath of fidelity to his nephew,
caused all the noblemen of the environs to make it, and wrote to
his sister-in-law, Elizabeth Woodville, to assure her of his
loyalty, and to place himself at her disposition. Already,
however, notwithstanding the reconciliation which had taken place
beside the deathbed of Edward IV., suspicions and discord reigned
between the party of the Queen and the old favourite of her
husband. Lord Hastings, High Chamberlain of England, wrote to the
Duke of Gloucester, and the the Duke of Buckingham, a prince of
the royal house, a descendant of Thomas de Woodstock, the
youngest son of Edward III., had received the emissaries of the
crafty Richard. The young king and his uncle met on the 25th of
April, at Stoney-Stratford; on the preceding evening, the Duke of
Gloucester had received at Northampton the visit of the Lords
Rivers and Grey, and had cordially entertained them, as well as
the Duke of Buckingham, who had subsequently arrived. But
scarcely did Richard find himself in the presence of the little
Edward V. and holding him in his power, when he accused Lord
Rivers of having endeavoured to alienate the affections of his
nephew from him; and he caused him to be arrested, as well as
Lord Grey and several personages of the royal house. Gloucester
and Buckingham bent their knees before the young king, saluting
him as their sovereign: but the sovereign was a prisoner and was
taken to London, while his uncle and his servants were being
conducted to Pontecraft Castle of lugubrious memory.
{104}
The rumour of these arrests had already reached the capital.
Queen Elizabeth, alarmed, had retired into Westminster Abbey with
her second son. Hastings, a traitor or a dupe, assured the
population of the city that the two dukes were acting only in the
interest of the public welfare. He set out to meet the young
king, while the agents of Gloucester were spreading in London
violent accusations against the queen, who had, it was said,
plotted with her relatives for the death of the princes of the
blood, in order to be able to govern the king at her pleasure.
They were even shown the casks filled with arms which she had, it
was said, amassed in order to destroy her enemies. The people
began to declare that all these traitors must be hanged. The
arrival of the little king was announced.
He made his entry into London on the 5th of June, magnificently
dressed and mounted upon a beautiful horse. His uncle preceded
him, bareheaded, with all the marks of the most affectionate
respect. Edward, V. at first took up his abode in the palace of
the bishop, then, upon the proposal which the Duke of Buckingham
made to the council, he was transported to the Tower for greater
security. The assembly of peers awarded to the Duke of Gloucester
the title of Protector and Defender of the kingdom, and he
installed himself in one of the royal palaces, where the crowd of
his courtiers thronged. A small number of noblemen, at the head
of whom was Lord Hastings, met together at the Tower. "I know
everything that goes forward at the duke's," said the high
chamberlain of Edward IV. to Lord Stanley, who was uneasy at the
machinations of Richard. He was not aware, however, of the
imminence of the danger that threatened him.
{105}
On the 12th of June Richard entered the council of the Tower with
a serene countenance; he chatted gaily with the peers who
surrounded him. "My lord," he said to the Bishop of Ely, "it is
said that the strawberries of your garden in Holborn are
excellent." "I will send and get some if it please your
highness," replied the prelate. While the strawberries were being
gathered, the Protector had gone out; when he returned, his face
had become overcast. "What do traitors who plot for my
destruction deserve?" he exclaimed on entering. "Death!" replied
Lord Hastings, without hesitating. "That sorceress, the wife of
my brother," replied Richard, "and that other sorceress who is
always with her, Mistress Shore, have no other aim but to rid
themselves of me; see how, with their enchantments, they have
already destroyed and consumed my body!" And he raised his left
sleeve exposing his arm, emaciated and withered to the elbow.
None uttered a word; all knew that the duke had been born with
his arm thus deformed. He was tall, like his brothers: his
countenance was handsome, but he was hunchbacked and his features
had never expressed a more bitter malignity than at the moment
when, turning towards Hastings, he repeated his question. "I
faith they deserve death, my lord, if they have thus plotted
against you." "_If!_" repeated the Protector, "why do you
use _ifs_ and _buts_ to me? I will prove upon thy body
the truth of that which I say, traitor that thou art!" And he
struck a heavy blow upon the table angrily; at the same instant
the door opened, and a band of armed men precipitated themselves
into the council-chamber. "Traitor, I arrest you!" said Richard,
taking Hastings by the collar.
{106}
A soldier had raised his battle axe to Lord Stanley, but he had
taken refuge under the table; he was seized, however, and taken
to prison, as well as the Archbishop of York and the Bishop of
Ely. "As to my lord chamberlain," said Gloucester, "let him
hasten to have himself absolved, for, by St. Paul, I will not sit
down to table while he has his head upon his shoulders." A few
moments later the unhappy Hastings, dragged by the soldiers into
the courtyard of the chapel, was beheaded upon the trunk of a
tree which was there. On the same day, by order of Sir Richard
Ratcliffe, who presented himself at Pontefract at the head of a
body of troops. Lord Rivers, Lord Grey, Sir Thomas Vaughan, and
Sir Thomas Hawse were executed before the castle, in public, but
without their being able to address a word to the crowd which
thronged around the scaffold, for "Ratcliffe had for a long time
been in the confidence of the Duke," says a chronicler, "and he
was a man having experience of the world, of a crafty mind and a
bold tongue, as far removed from all pity as he was from the fear
of God."
Meanwhile the Protector had repaired to Westminster with the
Archbishop of Canterbury and several peers and noblemen,
demanding that Queen Elizabeth should at once consign to him the
person of the Duke of York, whose company his brother wished for
and whose absence from the coronation would cause grievous and
calumniatory rumours to be circulated against the Protector. The
queen was defenceless; she had no party in the city, her
relatives and friends were dead or prisoners; she yielded,
tearfully embracing the son who yet remained to her and who was
doubtless being snatched away from [her.]
{107}
Mistress Jane Shore, the favourite of Edward IV., had been
condemned to do public penance for her bad conduct and sorcery;
she had traversed the streets of London barefooted and in a
sheet, with a taper in her hand, afterwards to take refuge,
deprived of all her riches, in a humble house into which she was
received in charity. It was on Sunday, the 22nd of June, when a
preacher, Doctor Shaw, attracted the mob to the cross at St.
Paul's, by loudly asserting that King Edward V. and his brother,
the Duke of York, were not the legitimate children of Edward IV.,
who had already been married when he espoused their mother, "Much
more," he added, "who knows even whether King Edward IV. was the
son of the Duke of York? All those who have known the illustrious
Duke Richard, assert that the Earl of March bore no resemblance
to him; on the contrary, see!" he cried, as the Duke of
Gloucester appeared at a balcony near the pulpit, "judge
yourselves whether the noble Protector is not feature for feature
the image of the hero whom we mourn." The mob listened aghast;
acclamations and a popular proclamation of King Richard had been
hoped for; but the people preserved silence, the Protector knit
his eyebrows, the preacher precipitately ended his sermon and
disappeared in the crowded ranks of auditors. It is asserted that
he died of grief in consequence of this check.
The ice was broken, however, and on the second day afterwards the
cause was entrusted to a more illustrious advocate: the Duke of
Buckingham presented himself at Guildhall, and, repeating to the
citizens the arguments which the preacher had expounded to the
populace, he asserted that the Duke Richard was the only
legitimate descendant of the Duke of York, and that the noblemen,
like the commons of the North, had never vowed to obey a bastard.
{108}
The citizens still hesitated, no voice was raised from the crowd;
the duke insisted upon having a reply; the poor people, who
thronged at the door, threw their caps in the air, crying, "Long
live King Richard!" On the morrow, the Duke of Buckingham
succeeded in gaining over a certain number of citizens, and he
was accompanied both by the peers and the Lords of the Council
when he presented himself at the Protector's. The latter at first
affected to refuse the audience; resistance was made, and the
Duke of Buckingham, in the name of the Lords spiritual and
temporal, as well as the Commons of England, implored Richard,
duke of Gloucester, Protector and defender of the kingdom, to
relieve England from the misfortune of being governed by a
bastard, by accepting the crown himself. The Protector hesitated,
speaking of his affection for his nephews. "If you refuse," cried
Buckingham, "the people of England will know well where to find a
king who will accept without causing himself to be entreated."
Richard no longer persisted: "It was his duty," he said, "to
submit to the will of the nation, and, since it was required, he
accepted the royal State of the two noble kingdoms of England and
France, the one to govern and direct it from this day, the other
to conquer and regain it as soon as it should be possible." King
Edward V. was dethroned before having reigned, and King Richard
III. ascended the throne.
[Image]
The Tower of London.
{109}
None protested, none objected in favour of the poor children
confined in the Tower. The preparations begun for the coronation
of the nephew served for the coronation of the uncle; Richard was
crowned at Westminster on the 6th of June, with his wife Anne,
daughter of Warwick; Lord Howard was made Duke of Norfolk, the
Archbishop of York was set at liberty, Lord Stanley was received
into favour. The new king travelled from county to county,
administering justice, listening to the complaints of his
subjects, and repeated at York the coronation ceremony.
Everywhere he was received with favour, and the disaffected did
not show themselves.
In London, however, an agitation began to be stirred up in favour
of the young princes; secret meetings had taken place, the health
of the two children had been drunk, their partisans became
reconciled with their mother; the Duke of Buckingham, who had
placed the crown upon the head of the usurper, and had been
richly rewarded for it, had doubtless conceived some misgivings
as to the ulterior intentions of Richard, for he suddenly altered
his course and placed himself at the head of the confederates,
who were working to create in the south of England a party for
the restoration of Edward V. Appearances were favourable; already
Queen Elizabeth raised her head, when suddenly the porches of the
Abbey were found closed; it was forbidden to allow any one to
enter or leave, and the unhappy mother learned at the same time
that her cruel brother-in-law was informed of the conspiracy, and
that he had baffled the object of it beforehand; the two princes
no longer existed.
{110}
Assassinations almost always remain enveloped in mystery: it is
related that scarcely had Richard left London when he endeavoured
to corrupt Sir Robert Brackenbury, the guardian of the Tower.
Finding him inflexible, he simply deposed him for twenty-four
hours, consigning the office into the hands of his master of the
horse, Sir John Tyrrell. The latter had it was said, entered the
Tower in the evening accompanied by two robbers, and during the
night they had stifled under their pillows the young princes,
lying in the same bed. Then they had been interred noiselessly at
the foot of the staircase, and the murderers had gone back to
King Richard to receive their reward.
Great were the consternation and horror among the conspirators,
but they had gone too far forward to recede; they could expect no
mercy. A pretender was sought for: the Bishop of Ely proposed
Henry, Earl of Richmond, grandson of Owen Tudor and Catherine of
France, representing the House of Lancaster by the right of his
mother, Margaret Beaufort, great grand-daughter of John of Gaunt.
He lived in Brittany, exiled like all his race. He could, it was
said, be made to wed Lady Elizabeth of York, eldest sister of the
unhappy Edward V., and thus unite the pretensions of the two
royal Houses, the struggle between which had cost England so much
blood. This project was immediately adopted; the Countess of
Richmond, the mother of the new pretender, had been married, for
the second time, to Lord Stanley, the secret enemy of Richard
III. He enter with ardour into the conspiracy, which extended
every day; but the secret was so well kept that the reply of the
Earl of Richmond had arrived in England, and he was preparing to
depart from Saint Malo before King Richard had learnt the new
danger which threatened him.
{111}
At the first disclosure, he convoked his army at Leicester; but
he had not yet joined his troops when an insurrection took place:
the Marquis of Dorset had proclaimed Henry VII. at Exeter, the
Bishop of Salisbury had declared himself in his favour in
Wiltshire, the gentlemen of Kent and Berkshire had taken up arms,
and the Duke of Buckingham displayed his banner at Brecknock.
The time was not yet ripe for the insurrection; the Earl of
Richmond had been for a long time tossed about by contrary winds,
and his forces were so insufficient when he approached the coast
of Devonshire that he did not dare to risk a disembarkation. The
Duke of Buckingham had found the rivers swollen in Wales: having
arrived at the Severn, he was compelled to retrace his steps; his
soldiers disbanded without striking a blow; the duke disguised
himself, endeavouring to fly; he then concealed himself in the
hut of a peasant, who betrayed him. King Richard arrived at
Salisbury as his former friend was being brought there; he
refused to see him, and immediately caused him to be beheaded.
The other insurgents had taken refuge upon the Continent; those
who were captured paid with their lives for their attempt; King
Richard was everywhere triumphant, without having drawn his sword
from its scabbard.
For the first time, Richard convoked a Parliament; he wished to
have his usurpation and vengeance ratified. Trembling before him,
the Peers and Commons of England declared that King Richard III.
was the sole legitimate possessor of the throne, which belonged
to his descendants forever, beginning with his son Edward, Prince
of Wales. At the same time, and to punish the enemies of the new
sovereign, Parliament voted a bill of attainder, which deprived
of their property and dignities all those who had been
compromised in the last conspiracy; the Countess of Richmond
alone obtained mercy through intercession of her husband, Lord
Stanley, skilful in remaining on good terms with the two parties,
and who had succeeded in deceiving the perfidious and suspicious
Richard.
{112}
Meanwhile the exiles had assembled in Brittany, where they
enjoyed the favour of the Duke Francis and the support of his
minister, Pierre Landais. At the rejoicings of Christmas, 1483,
Henry of Richmond assembled around him his partisans, solemnly
swore to wed Elizabeth of York as soon as he should have
triumphed over the usurper, and received the homage of all
present. But King Richard had not renounced his vengeance:
Landais was gained over, and the protection of the Duke Francis
failing the exiles, they were about to be delivered up to their
cruel enemy, when, warned in time, they proceeded into France and
found a refuge and assistance beside King Charles VIII.
At the same time that Richard was pursuing with his hatred Henry
of Richmond, he was labouring in England to deprive him of the
support which alone could raise him to the throne. The Yorkists
could not ally themselves with the Lancastrian prince, except in
consideration of his marriage with Elizabeth of York; Richard
resolved to sever from his alliance the queen and her daughter;
he entered into correspondence with Elizabeth Woodville: she was
weary of her voluntary prison, ambitious and frivolous; she
forgot all, the usurpation, the murder of her sons, of her
brother, of her most faithful friends, and, after having obtained
from the king a solemn oath to treat her as well as her
daughters, as good relatives, the queen quitted her retreat and
appeared at the court, where the Princess Elizabeth was loaded
with honours.
{113}
Her marriage with the Prince of Wales was already spoken of,
although the latter was scarcely eleven years of age and the
Princess Elizabeth was at least eighteen, when the child died
suddenly at Middleham Castle. For a moment, Richard appeared to
stagger under the blow, but he soon rose again; he had formed a
new project. Queen Anne was ill, and at all the festivals the
Princess Elizabeth appeared wearing in advance the royal robes.
"When will she come to an end, then?" said Elizabeth; "she is a
long time dying!" The Dowager Queen had written to her friends to
abandon the Earl of Richmond, saying that she had found a better
arrangement for the family. Anne died at length, but the
confidants of King Richard did not approve of his project: he was
accused, they said, of having poisoned his wife. The people of
the northern counties maintained their fidelity to the house of
Warwick; the people considered this marriage with the daughter of
his brother as incestuous; Richard fell back before these
objections; he felt his throne insecure. King Charles VIII. had
furnished the Earl of Richmond with men and money, and he had
recently embarked at Harfleur; the King of England was raising an
army to defend himself; at the same time he lavished
proclamations against "one Henry Tudor by name, of illegitimate
descent from the side of his father as well as his mother, having
no right to the crown of England, pledged to the King of France,
to abandon to him for ever Normandy Guienne, Anjou, Maine and
even Calais, and coming to England followed by an army of
strangers, to whom he had promised the earldoms and bishoprics,
the baronies and the fiefs of knights."
{114}
He therefore summoned all his good subjects to the defence of the
country like loyal Englishmen, by providing him with soldiers and
money, and he promised to spare neither his property nor his
person to protect them against the common enemy.
The last remains of the popularity of Richard, in London, had
disappeared before the forced loans which he had been obliged to
make, and which the citizens called "malevolences." The royal
banner had been raised at Nottingham and a considerable army had
rallied around the king; but the coasts were ill-defended, and
among the noblemen who had not replied to the appeal was Lord
Stanley, ill, it was said, and detained in his bed. The king took
possession of his son, Lord Strange, in the shape of a hostage
and continued his march towards his rival, whose forces were not
as yet very considerable. "There will not be one man in ten who
will fight for Richard," asserted the Earl of Richmond, and he
advanced resolutely as far as Atherston.
It is in the nature of tyrants and traitors to live in fear of
treason. The House of York, so often stained with innocent blood,
had never lacked courage. Richard III. had often exhibited the
most brilliant valour. He was destined to give further proof of
this on the morrow. It is, however, the incomparable genius of
Shakspeare which has assembled so many terrible visions around
the pillow of Richard III. during the night before the battle,
and which has caused all the victims of his perfidy to pass
before him, like so many sinister heralds, announcing his doom.
When daylight dawned the king already felt himself condemned and
conquered.
[Image]
Henry Tudor crowned on the Battle-Field of Bosworth.
{115}
On the 22nd of August, the two adversaries met in the plain of
Bosworth: the invading army was small; King Richard surveyed it
with disdain while proceeding along his lines on horseback; the
golden crown glittered upon his helmet. The combat began, "bitter
and harsh," says a chronicler, "and harsher would it have been if
the party of the king had remained staunch to him; but some
joined the enemies, and the others awaited to see to which side
victory would turn." By degrees, the banners which just before
waved in the camp of Richard, floated beside the Earl of
Richmond; gaps were being made in the royal ranks; Lord Stanley
had just arrived with three thousand men, and was fighting for
his son-in-law. King Richard transported himself from group to
group, now in the centre, then at the wings, encouraging,
directing, urging the soldiers; the Duke of Norfolk and his men
alone remained resolutely faithful to him; at length the king saw
himself ruined. "A horse," Shakspeare makes him exclaim, "my
kingdom for a horse!" He dug his spurs into the flanks of his
courser. "Treason!" he cried, and charging into the midst of his
enemies, he opened up a passage for himself to confront Richmond,
striking down right and left all who resisted him; already he had
overthrown the standard bearer and had struck his rival, when the
crowd of knights closed in around him; he fell, pierced with a
hundred wounds. Lord Stanley picked up the crown smashed by the
battle-axes and stained with the royal blood; and he placed it
upon the head of his son-in-law. "Long live King Henry VII.!"
cried he. "Long live King Henry VII.!" responded the army, and
the cry was repeated in the ranks of the enemy. The faithful
partisans of Richard had succumbed like himself.
{116}
The dead king was deprived of his arms, and was brought back to
Leicester, behind a herald; his body was exposed for three days
in the church, in order that the people might assure themselves
of the death of the last prince of the House of York. When he was
interred in the monastery of the Grey Friars, Henry Tudor, Earl
of Richmond, was king under the name of Henry VII. The wars of
the Two Roses had ended and the era of the great reigns was about
to begin for England.
{117}