mmmM Qp.^ ^>^^^ '\' .^-^^ iMf ^' ■. * .'\ ^'' ■'^/- v-i'^^ .^^ cP' .' N c / ^ fr "^ >^^ yB ^p^ '^ x^ O ^ ^ ^. 2^<= ^-^ n^ 1 T - ^0- 8 I ^-^ ,:^' ^./ \\\^ -^ \ '^ ^S 2 ^ S in . ^ O) k! §3 is O CO ^- O G3 (P O -tJ ^ _c O M i3 " tn ^ ^ o) a> ~:^§ O ^ +=> O Sh 5 II ^ « ' 1^; «r ■ ■•'"ma // \ m\ I I' Pli 5^^:^^--^ y-TA^vT 'C=^^\r^ '--' ' ' '■'' • i 1 S v^miJ^^ ^f:^- ■i€"'" ->\i: < SELECTING THE KOSES. The Houses of York, Etc. 23 The roses. The four brothers. among the descendants of these sons that the celebrated wars between the houses of York and Lancaster, called the wars of the roses, arose. These wars were called the wars of the roses from the circumstance that the white and the red rose happened in some way to be chosen as the badges of the two parties — the white rose being that of the house of York, and the red that of the house of Lancaster. ■ The reader will observe that the dukes of Lancaster and York are the third and fourth of the brothers enumerated in the table, where- as it might have been supposed that any con. test which should have arisen in respect to the crown would have taken place between fami- lies of the first and second. But the first and second sons and their descendants were soon set aside, as it were, from the competition, in the following manner. The line of the first brother soon became ex- tinct. Edward himself, the Prince of Wales, died during his father's lifetime, leaving his son Richard as his heir. Then, when the old king died, Richard succeeded him. As he was the oldest living son of the oldest son, his claim could not be disputed, and so his uncles acquiesced in it. They wished very much, it 24 Margaeet of Anjou. Ambition of Richard's uncles. Richard's character. His cousin Henry. is true, to govern the realm, but tliey content- ed themselves with ruling in Kichard's name until he became of age, and then Eichard took the government into his own hands. The country was tolerably well satisfied under his dominion for some years, but at length Eichard became dissipated and vicious, and he domin- eered over the people of England in so haugh- ty a manner, and oppressed them so severely by the taxes and other exactions which he laid upon them, that a very general discontent pre- vailed at last against him and against his gov- ernment. This discontent would have given either of his uncles a great advantage in any design which they might have formed to take away the crown from him. As it was, it great- ly increased their power and influence in the land, and diminished, in a corresponding de- gree, that of the king. The uncles appear to have been contented with this share of power and influence, which seemed naturally to fall into their hands, and did not attempt any open rebellion. Eichard had a cousin, however, a young man of just about his own age, who was driven at last, by a peculiar train of circumstances, to rise against him. This cousin was the son of his uncle John. His name was Henry Boling- The Houses of York, Etc. 25 Quarrel between Henry and Norfolk. The trial. broke. He appears in. the genealogical table as Henry lY., that having been his title subse- quently as King of England. This cousin Henry became involved in a quarrel with a certain nobleman named Nor- folk. Indeed, the nobles of those days were continually getting engaged in feuds and quar- rels, which they fought out with the greatest recklessness, sometimes by regular battles be- tween armies of retainers, and sometimes by single combat, in which the parties to the dis- pute were supposed to appeal to Almighty God, who they believed, or professed to believe, would give the victory to the just side in the quarrel. These single combats were arranged with great ceremony and parade, and were per- formed in a very public and solemn manner ; being, in fact, a recognized and established part of the system of public law as administered in those days. In the next chapter, when speak- ing more particularly of the manners and cus- toms of the times, I shall give an account in full of one of these duels. I have only to say here that Eichard, on hearing of the quarrel between his cousin Henry and Norfolk, decreed that they should settle it by single combat, and prep- arations were accordingly made for the trial, and the parties appeared, armed and equipped 26 Margaret of Anjou. Henry is sent into banishment. for the fight, in the presence of an immense concourse of people assembled to witness the spectacle. The king himself was to preside on the occasion. But just before the signal was to be given for the combat to begm, the king interrupted the proceedings, and declared that he would decide the question himself. He pronounced both the combatants guilty, and issued a decree of ban- ishment against both. Henry submitted, and both prepared to leave the country. These transactions, of course, attracted great attention throughout England, and they operated to bring Henry forward in a very conspicuous manner before the people of the realm. He was in the direct line of succession to the crown, and he was, moreover, a prince of great wealth, and of immense personal influence, and so, just in pro- portion as Eichard himself was disliked, Henry w^ould naturally become an object of popular sympathy and regard. When he set out on his journey toward the southern coast, in order to leave the country in pursuance of his sentence, the people flocked along the waysides, and as- sembled in the towns where he passed, as if he were a conqueror returning from his victories instead of a condemned criminal going into banishment. 1400.] The Houses of Yore, Etc. 27 lliri e:itates confiscated. A revolution. Soon after this, tlie Duke of Lancaster, Hen- ry's father, died, and then Eichard, instead of allowing his cousin to succeed to the immense estates which liis father left, confiscated all the property, under the pretext that Henry had for- feited it, and so converted it to his own use. This last outrage aroused Henry to such a pitch of indignation that he resolved to invade En- gland, depose Eichard, and claim the crown for himself This plan was carried into effect. Henry raised an armament, crossed the Channel, and landed in England. The people took sides. A great majority sided with Henry. A full ac- count of this insurrection and invasion is given in our history of Eichard H. All that it is nec- essary to say here is that the revolution was ef- fected. Eichard was deposed, and Henry ob- tained possession of the kingdom. It was thus that the house of Lancaster first became estab- lished on the throne. But you will very naturally wonder where the representatives of the second brother in Edward the Third's family were all this time, and why, when Eichard was deposed, who was the son of the first brother, they did not appear, and advance their claims in competition with Henry. The reason was because there was no 28 Makgaret of Anjou. The elder branches of the family, male heir of that branch living in that line. You will see by referring again to the table that the only child of Lionel, the second brother, was Philippa, a girl. She had a son, it is true, Roger Mortimer, as appears by the table ; but he was yet very young, and could do nothing to assert the claims of his line. Besides, Henry pretended that, together with his claims to the throne through his father, he had others more ancient and better founded still through his mother, who, as he attempted to prove, was de- scended from an English king who reigned le- fore Edward III, The people of England, as they wished to have Henry for king, were very easily satisfied with his arguments, and so it was settled that he should reign. The line of this second brother, however, did not give up their claims, but reserved them, intending to rise and assert them on the very first favorable op- portunity. Henry reigned about thirteen years, and then was succeeded by his son, Henry Y., as appears by the table. There was no attempt to disturb the Lancastrian line in their posses- sion of the throne during these two reigns. The attention, both of the kings and of the peo- ple, during all this period, was almost wholly engrossed in the wars which they were waging 1422.] The Houses of Yoek, Etc. 29 Birth and accession of Henry VI. in France. These wars were very successfui. The English conquered province after province and castle after castle, until at length almost the whole country was brought under their sway. This state of things continued until the death of Henry Y., which took place in 1422. He left for his heir a little son, named also Heuvy, then only about nine months old. This infant was at once invested with the rojdl authority as King of England and France, under the title of Henry YI., as seen by the table. It was this Henry who, when he arrived at maturity, became the husband of Margaret of Anjou, the subject of this volume. It was during his reign, too, that the first effective attempt was made to dispute the right of the house of Lan- caster to the throne, and it was in the terrible contests which this attempt brought on that Margaret displayed the extraordinary military heroism for which she became so renowned. I shall relate the early history of this king, and explain the nature of the combination which was formed during his reign against the Lan- castrian line, in a subsequent chapter, after first giving a brief account of such of the man- ners and customs of those times as are neces- sary to a proper understanding of the story. 30 Margaret of Anjou. The nobles. Their mode of life. Chapter IL Manners and Customs of the Time. IN the days when Margaret of Anjou lived,, the kings, princes, nobles, and knights who flourished in the realms of England and France, though they were, relatively to the mass of the people, far more wealthy, proud, and powerful than their successors are at the present day, still lived in many respects in a very rude and barbarous manner. They enjoyed very few of the benefits and privileges which all classes enjoy in the age in which we live. They had very few books, and very little advantage of instruction to enable them to read those that they had. There were no good roads by which they could travel comfortably from place to place, and no wheeled carriages. They lived in castles, very strongly built indeed, and very grand and picturesque sometimes in external appearance, but very illy furnished and com- fortless within. The artisans were skillful in fabricating splendid caparisons for the horses, and costly suits of glittering armor for the men, 1 Manneks and Customs. 31 Retainers of the nobles. Their courts. and the architects could construct grand cathe- drals, and ornament them with sculptures and columns which are the wonder of the present age. But in respect to all the ordinary means and appliances of daily life, even the most wealthy and powerful nobles lived m. a very barbarous way. The mass of the common people were held in a state of abject submission to the will of the chieftains, very much in the condition of slaves, being compelled to toil in the cultiva- tion of their masters' lands, or to go out as sol- diers to fight in their quarrels, without receiv- ing any compensation. The great ambition of every noble and knight was to have as many of these retainers as possible under his com- mand. The only limit to the number which each chieftain could assemble was his power of feeding them. For in those days men could be more easily found to fight than to engage in any other employment, and there were great numbers always ready to follow any command- er who was able to maintain them. Each great noble lived in state in his castle, like a prince or a petty king. Those of the highest class had their privy councilors, treas- urers, marshals, constables, stewards, secreta- ries, heralds, pursuivants, pages, guards, trum- 32 Margaret of Anjou. Great power of the nobles. The Earl of Warwick. peters — in short, all the various officers that were to be found in the court of the sovereign. To these were added whole bands of minstrels, mimics, jugglers, tumblers, rope-dancers, and buffoons. Besides these, there was always at- tached to each great castle a large company of priests and monks, who performed divine serv- ice according to the usages of those times, in a gorgeously-decorated chapel built for this pur- pose within the castle walls. Thus the whole country was divided, as it were, into a vast number of separate jurisdic- tions, each with an earl, or a baron, or a duke at the head of it, who ruled with an almost ab- solute sway in every thing that related to the internal management of his province, while, however, he recognized a certain general do- minion over all on the part of the king. Such being the state of the case, it is not surprising that the nobles were often powerful enough, as will appear in the course of this narrative, to band together and set up and put down kings at their pleasure. Perhaps the most powerful of all the great nobles who flourished during the time of Mar- garet of Anjou was the Earl of Warwick. So great was his influence in deciding between the rival claims of different pretenders to the crown, Manners and Customs. 33 Amusements of the nobility. Courts of justice. that lie is known in history by the title of the King-maker. His wealth was so enormous that it was said that the body of retainers that he maintained amounted sometimes in number to thirty thousand men. The employments, and even the amusements of these great barons and nobles, were all mili- tary. They looked down with great disdain upon all the useful pursuits of art and indus- try, regarding them as only fit occupations for serfs and slaves. Their business was going to war, either independently against each other, or, under the command of the king, against some common enemy. When they were not engaged in any of these wars they amused themselves and the people of their courts with tournaments, and mock combats and encoun- ters of all kinds, which they arranged in open grounds contiguous to their castles with great pomp and parade. It could not be expected that such powerful and warlike chieftains as these could be kept much under the control of law by the ordinary machinery of courts of justice. There were, of course, laws and courts of justice in those days, but they were administered chiefly upon the common people, for the repression of com- mon crimes. - The nobles, in their quarrels and C 84 Makgaeet of Anjou. Quarrels among the nobles. Dueling. contentions with, each other, were accustomed to settle the questions that arose in other ways. Sometimes they did this by marshaling their troops and fighting each other in regular cam- paigns, during which they laid siege to castles, and ravaged villages and fields, as in times of public war. Sometimes, when the power of the king was sufficient to prevent such out- breaks as these, the parties to the quarrel were summoned to settle the dispute by single com- bat in the presence of the king and his court, as well as of a vast multitude of assembled spectators. These single combats were the origin of the modern custom of dueling. At the present day, the settlement of dis- putes by a private combat between the parties to it is made a crime by the laws of the land. It is justly considered a barbarous and sense- less practice. The man who provokes another to a duel and then kills him in the fight, in- stead of acquiring any glory by the deed, has to bear, for the rest of his life, both in his own conscience and in the opinion of mankind, the mark and stain of murder. And when, in de- fiance of law, and of the opinions and wishes of all good men, any two disputants who have become involved in a quarrel are rendered so desperate by their angry passions, as to desire Manners and Customs. 3?; The ancient trial by combat. Old representation of it. to satisfy them by this mode, they are obliged to resort to all sorts of manoeuvres and strata- gems to conceal the crime which they are about to commit, and to avoid the interference of their friends or of the officers of the law. In the days, however, of the semi-savage knights and barons who flourished so luxuri- antly in the times of which we are writing, the settlement of a dispute by single combat be- tween the two parties to it was an openly rec- ognized and perfectly legitimate mode of arbi- tration, and the trial of the question was con- ducted with forms and ceremonies even more OEDILVL COMBAT. 86 Margaret of Anjou. Henry Bolingbroke. Arrangements made. strict and more solemn tlian those which gov- erned the proceedings in regular courts of jus- tice. The engraving on the preceding page is a sort of rude emblematic representation of such a trial, copied from a drawing in an ancient manuscript. We see the combatants in the fore- ground, with the judges and spectators behind. It was to a public and solemn combat of this 1 kind that Eichard the Second summoned his cousin Henry Bolingbroke, and his enemy, as | related in the last chapter. In that instance the combat was not fought, the king having | taken the case into his own hands, and con- demned both the parties before the contest was begun. But in multitudes of other cases the trial was carried through to its consummation in the death of one party, and the triumph and acquittal of the other. Yery many detailed and full accounts of these combats have come down to us in the writings of the ancient chroniclers. I will here give a description of one of them, as an example of this mode of trial, which was fought in the pub- lic square in front of King Eichard the Second's palace, the king himself, all the principal nobles of the court, and a great crowd of other persons being provided with seats around the area as Mannees and Customs. 87 Guards. Great concourse of people. The parties. Nature of the quaiTel. spectators of the fight. The nobles and knights were all dressed in complete armor ; and her- alds, and squires, and guards were stationed in great numbers to regulate the proceedings. It was on a bright morning in June when the combat was fought, and the whole aspect of the scene was that of a grand and joyful spectacle on a gala day. It was estimated that more people from the surrounding country came to London on the occasion of this duel than at the time of the coronation of the king. It took place about three years after the coronation. The parties to the combat were John Annes- lie, a knight, and Thomas Katrington, a squire. Anneslie, the knight, was the complainant and the challenger. Katrington, the squire, was the defendant. The circumstances of the case were as follows. Katrington, the squire, was governor of a cas- tle in Normandy. The castle belonged to a certain English knight who afterward died, and his estate descended to Anneslie, the complain- ant in this quarrel. If the squire had success- fully defended the castle from the French who attacked it, then it would have descended with the other property to Anneslie. But he did not. When the French came and laid siege to 88 Maegaret of Anjou. Castle lost. Reason for this mode of trial the castle, Katrington surrendered it, and so it was lost. He maintained that he had not a sufficient force to defend it, and that he had no alternative but to surrender. Anneslie, on the other hand, alleged that he might have defend- ed it, and that he would have done so if he had been faithful to his trust ; but that he had been hrihed by the French to give it up. This Kat- rington denied ; so Anneslie, who was very an- gry at the loss of the castle, challenged him to single combat to try the question. It is plain that this was a very absurd way of attempting to ascertain whether Katrington had or had not been bribed ; but, as the affair had occurred some years before, and in another country, and as, moreover, the giving and re- ceiving of bribes are facts always very difficult to be proved by ordinary evidence, it was de- cided by the government of the king that this was a proper case for the trial by combat, and ; both parties were ordered to prepare for the fight. The day, too, was fixed, and the place — the public square opposite the king's palace- was appointed. As the time drew nigh, the whole country for many miles around was ex- cited to the highest pitch of interest and expec- tation. At the place where the combat was to be Manners and Customs. 39 The company assemble. The combatants appear. The horse excluded. fought a large space was railed in by a very substantial barricade. The barricade was made very strong, so as to resist the utmost possible pressure of the crowd. Elevated seats, com- manding a full view of the lists, as the area railed in was called, were erected for the use of the king and the nobles of the court, and all other necessary preparations were made. When the hour arrived on the appointed day, the king and the nobles came in great state and took their places. The whole square, with the exception of the lists and proper avenues of approach, which were kept open by the men-at-arms, had long since been filled with an immense crowd of people from the surrounding country. At length, after a brief period of expectation, the challenger, Anneslie, was seen coming along one of the approaches, mounted on a horse splendidly caparisoned, and attended by sever- al knights and squires, his friends, all complete- ly armed. He stopped when he reached the railing and dismounted from his horse. It was against the laws of the combat for either party to enter the lists mounted. If a horse went within the in- closure he was forfeited by that act to a certain public officer called the high constable of En- gland, who was responsible for the regularity and order of the proceedings. 40 Margaeet of Anjou. Summons to the accused. Appearance of Katrington. Anneslie, having thus dismounted from his horse with the assistance of his attendants, walked into the hsts all armed and equipped for the fight. His squires attended him. He walked there to and fro a few minutes, and then a herald, blowing a trumpet, summoned the accused to appear. ''Thomas Katrington! Thomas Katring- ton !" he cried out in a loud voice, "come and appear, to save the action for which Sir John Anneslie, knight, hath publicly and by writing appealed thee !" Three times the herald proclaimed this sum- mons. At the third time Katrington appeared. He came, as Anneslie had come, mounted upon a war-horse splendidly caparisoned, and with his arms embroidered on the trappings. He was attended by his friends, the representa- tives of the seconds of the modern duel. The two stopped at the entrance of the lists, and dismounting, passed into the lists on foot. Ev- ery body being now intent on the combatants, the horse for the moment was let go, and, be- ing eager to follow his master, he ran up and down along the railing, reaching his head and neck over as far as he could, and trying to get over. At length he was taken and led away ; but the lord high constable said at once that Manners and Customs. 41 Horse's head forfeited. The pleadings. Katrington is ready. he should claim him for having entered the lists. "At least," said he, "I shall claim his head and neck, and as much of him as was over the railing." The combatants now stood confronting each other within the lists. A written document was produced, which had been prepared, as was said, by consent of both parties, containing a statement of the charge made against Katring- ton, namely, that of treason, in having betray- ed to the enemy for money a castle intrusted to his charge, and his reply. The herald read this document with a loud voice, in order that all the assembly, or as many as possible, might hear it. As soon as it was read, Katrington began to take exceptions to some passages in it. The Duke of Lancaster, who seemed to preside on the occasion, put an end to his crit- icisms at once, saying that he had already agreed to the paper, and that now, if he made any difficulty about it, and refused to fight, he should be adjudged guilty of the treason, and should at once be led out to execution. Katrington then said that he was ready to fight his antagonist, not only on the points raised in the document which had been read, but on any and all other points whatever that 42 Margaeet of Akjou. Singular oath administered. The battle. might be laid to his charge. He had entire confidence, he said, that the justice of his cause would secure him the victory. The next proceeding in this strange ceremo- ny was singular enough. It was the solemn administering of an oath to each of the combat- ants, by which oath they severally swore that the cause in which they were to fight was true, and that they did not deal in any witchcraft or magic art, by which they expected to gain the victory over their adversary; and also, that they had not about their persons any herb or stone, or charm of any kind, by which they hoped to obtain any advantage. After this oath had been administered, time was allowed for the combatants to say their prayers. This ceremony they performed ap- parently in a very devout manner, and then the battle began. The combatants fought first with spears, then with swords, and finally, coming to very close quarters, with daggers. Anneslie seemed to gain the advantage. He succeeded in disarm- ing Katrington of one after another of his weapons, and finally threw him down. When Katrington was down, Anneslie attempted to throw himself upon him, in order to crush him with the weight of his heavy iron armor. But Manners and Customs. 43 The proceedings arrested by the king. he was exhausted by the heat and by the exer- tion which he had made, and the perspiration running down from his forehead under his hel- met blinded his eyes, so that he could not see exactly where Katrington was, and, instead of falling upon him, he came down upon the ground at a little distance away. Katrington then contrived to make his way to Anneslie and to get upon him, thus pressing him down to the ground with his weight. The combat- ants lay thus a few minutes locked together on the ground, and struggling with each other as well as their heavy and cumbrous armor would permit, Katrington being all the time upper- most, when the king at length gave orders that the contest should cease and that the men should be separated. In obedience to these orders, some men came to rescue Anneslie by taking Katrington off from him. But Anneslie begged them not to interfere. And when the men had taken Kat- rington off, he urged them to place him back upon him again as he was before, for he said he himself was not hurt at all, and he had no doubt that he should gain the victory if they would leave him alone. The men, however, having the king's order for what they were do- ing, paid no heed to Anneslie's requests, but proceeded to lead Katrington away. 44 Margaret of Anjou. Katrington's condition. Anneslie's request to the king. They found that he was so weak and ex- hausted that he could not stand. They led him to a chair, and then, taking off his helmet, they tried to revive him by bathing his face and giving him some wine. In the mean time, Anneslie, finding that Katrington was taken away, allowed himself to be lifted up. When set upon his feet, he walked along toward the part of the inclosure which was near the king's seat, and begged the king to allow the combat to proceed. He said he was sure that he should obtain the victory if they would but permit him to continue the combat to the end. Finally the king and no- bles gave their consent, and ordered that An- neslie should be placed upon the ground again, and Katrington upon him, in the same posi- tion, as nearly as possible, as before. But on going again to Katrington with a view of executing this decree, they found that he was in such a condition as to preclude the possibility of it. He had fainted and fallen down out of his chair in a deadly swoon. He seemed not to be wounded, but to be utterly exhausted by the heat, the weight of his ar- mor, and the extreme violence of the exertion which he had made. His friends raised him Tip again, and proceeded to unbuckle and take Manners and Customs. 45 Anneslie's rage. The termination of the trial. off his armor. Eelieved from this burden, he began to come to himself. He opened his ejes and looked around, staring with a wild, bewil- dered, and ghastly look, which moved the pity of all the beholders, that is, of all but Anneslie. He, on leaving the king, came to where poor Katrington was sitting, and, full of rage and hate, began to taunt and revile him, calling him traitor, and false, perjured villain, and dar- ing him to come out again into the area and finish the fight. To this Katrington made no answer, but stared wildly about with a crazed look, as if he did not know where he was or what they were doing to him. So the farther prosecution of the combat was relinquished. Anneslie was declared the vic- tor, and poor Katrington was deemed to be proved, by his defeat, guilty of the treason which had been charged against him. He was borne away by his friends, and put into his bed. He continued delirious all that night, and the next morning at nine o'clock he died. Thus was this combat fought, as the ancient historian says, to the great rejoicing of the common people and the discouragement of traitors I 46 Margaket of Anjou. [1422. King Henry's accession. His uncles. Chapter III. King Henry YI. KING HENEY THE SIXTH, who sub- sequently became the husband of Mar- garet of Anjou, was only about nine months old, as has already been said, when he succeed- ed to the throne by the death of his father. He was proclaimed by the heralds to the sound of trumpets and drums, in all parts of London, while he was yet an infant in his nurse's arms. Of course the question was now who should have the rule in England while Henry remain- ed a child. And this question chiefly affected the little king's uncles, of whom there were three — all rude, turbulent, and powerful no- bles, such as were briefly described in the last chapter. Each of them had a powerful band of retainers and partisans attached to his serv- ice, and the whole kingdom dreaded greatly the quarrels which every one knew were now likely to break out. The oldest of these uncles was Thomas. He was Duke of Exeter. The second was John. He was Duke of Bedford. 1422.] King Henry YI. 47 Division of power. Quarrels. The third was Humphrey. He was Duke of Gloucester. Thomas and Humphrey seem to have been in England at the time of their brother the old king's death. John, or Bed- ford, as he was commonly called, was in France, where he had been pursuing a very renowned and successful career, in extending and main- taining the English conquests in that country. The leading nobles and officers of the gov- ernment were assembled in council soon after the old king's death, and in order to prevent the breaking out of the quarrels which were otherwise to have been anticipated between these uncles, they determined to divide the power as nearly as possible in an equal manner among them. So they appointed Thomas, the Duke of Exeter, who seems to have been less ambitious and warlike in his character than the rest, to the charge and custody of the young king's person. Humphrey, the Duke of Glou- cester, was made Protector of England, and John, the Duke of Bedford, the Kegent of France. Thus they were all seemingly satis- fied. But the peace which resulted from this ar- rangement did not continue very long. Pretty soon a certain Henry Beaufort, a bishop, was appointed to be associated with Henry's uncle 48 Maegaret of Anjou. [1422. Beaufort and Gloucester. Progress of the quarrel. Thomas in the personal charge of the king. This Henry Beaufort was Henry's great-uncle, being one of the sons of John of Graunt. He was a younger son of his father, and so was brought up to the Church, and had been ap- pointed Bishop of Winchester, and afterward made a cardinal. Thus he occupied a very ex- alted position, and possessed a degree of wealth, and power, and general consequence little infe- rior to those of the grandest nobles in the land. He was a man, too, of great capacity, very skill- ful in manoeuvring and intriguing, and he im- mediately began to form ambitious schemes for himself which he designed to carry into effect through the power which the custody of the young king gave him. ' He was, of course, very jealous of the influence and power of the Duke of Gloucester, and the Duke of Gloucester be- came very jealous of him. It was not long be- fore occasions arose which brought the two men, and their bands of followers, into direct and open collision. I can not here go into a full account of the particulars of the quarrel. One of the first dif- ficulties was about the Tower of London, which Beaufort had under his command, and where there was a prisoner whom Gloucester wished to set at liberty. Then there was a great riot 1422.] King Henry VI. 49 Bedford summoned home from France. and disturbance on London Bridge, which threw the whole city of London into a state of alarm. Beaufort alleged that Gloucester had formed a plan to seize the person of the king and take him away from Beaufort's custody; and that he had designs, moreover, on Beaufort's life. To defend himself, and to prevent Gloucester from coming to the palace where he was resid- ing, he seized and fortified the passages leading to the bridge. lie built barricades, and took down the chains of the portcullis, and assem- bled a large armed force to guard the point. The people of London were in great alarm. They set watches day and night to protect their property from the anticipated violence of the soldiers and partisans of the combatants, and thus all was commotion and fear. Of course there were no courts of justice powerful enough to control such a contest as this, and finally the people sent off a delegation to the Duke of Bed- ford in France, imploring him to come to En- gland immediately and see if he could not set- tle the quarrel. The Duke of Bedford came. A Parliament was convened, and the questions at issue be- tween the two great disputants were brought to a solemn trial. The Duke of Gloucester made out a series of heavy charges against the cardi' • D 50 Maegaret of Anjou. [1422. Death of Bedford. nal, and tlie cardinal made a formal reply which contained not only his defense, but also counter charges against the duke. These papers were drawn up with great technicality and ceremony by the lawyers employed on each side to man- age the case, and were submitted to the Duke of Bedford and to the Parliament. A series of debates ensued, in which the friends of the two parties respectively brought criminations and re- criminations against each other without end. The result was, as is usual in such cases, that both sides appeared to have been to blame, and in order to settle the dispute a sort of compro- mise was effected, with which both parties pro- fessed to be satisfied, and a reconciliation, or what outwardly appeared to be such, was made. A new division of powers and prerogatives be- tween Gloucester, as Protector of England, and Beaufort, as custodian of the king, was ar- ranged, and peace being thus restored, Bedford went back again to France. Things went on tolerably well after this for many years ; that is, there were no more open outbreaks, though the old jealousy and hatred between Gloucester and the cardinal still con- tinued. The influence of the Duke of Bedford held both parties in check as long as the duke lived. At length, however, when the young 1422.] King Henry YI. 51 Anecdote. Generosity of the French king. king was about fourteen years old, the Duke of Bedford died. He was in France at tlie time of his death. He was buried with great pomp and ceremony in the city of Kouen, which had been in. some sense the head-quarters of his do- minion in that country, and a splendid monu- ment was erected over his tomb. A curious anecdote is related of the King of France in relation to this tomb. Some time after the tomb was built Eouen fell into the hands of the French, and some persons pro- posed to break down the monument which had been built in memory of their old enemy ; but the King of France would not listen to the proposal. " What honor shall it be to us," said he, " or to you, to break down the monument, or to pull out of the ground the dead bones of him whom, in his life, neither my father nor your progenitors, with all their power, influence, and friends, were ever able to make flee one foot backward, but who, by his strength, wit, and policy, kept them all at bay. Wherefore I say, let God have his soul ; and for his body, let it rest in peace where they have laid it." When King Henry was old enough to be crowned, in addition to the English part of the ceremony, he went to France to receive the 52 Margaret of Anjou. [1422. Coronation of the young king in France. Curious pageants. crown of tliat country too. The ceremony, as is usual with the French kings, was performed at the town of St. Denis, near Paris, where is an ancient royal chapel, in which all the great religious ceremonies connected with the French monarchy have been performed. A very cu- rious account is given by the ancient chroni- clers of the pageants and ceremonies which were enacted on this occasion. The king pro- ceeded into France and journeyed to St. Denis at the head of a grand cavalcade of knights, nobles, and men-at-arms, amounting to many thousand men, all of whom were adorned with dresses and trappings of the most gorgeous de- scription. At St. Denis the authorities came out to meet the king, dressed in robes of ver- milion, and bearing splendid banners. The king was presented, as he passed through the gates, " with three crimson hearts, in one of which were two doves; in another, several small birds, which were let fly over his head ; while the third was filled with violets and flowers, which were thrown over the lords that attended and followed him." At the same place, too, a company of the principal civic dignitaries of the town appeared, bearing a gorgeous canopy of blue silk, adorned and embroidered in the most beautiful manner U22.] King Henry YL 53 Curious pageants. The coronation, with, royal emblems. This canopy they held over the king as he advanced into the town. At one place farther on, where there was a little bridge to be crossed, there was a pageant of three savages fighting about a woman in a mimic forest. The savages continued fighting until the king had passed by. Next came a fountain flowing witli wine, with mermaids swimming about in it. The wine in this fount- ain was free to all who chose to come and drink it. Then, farther still, the royal party came to a place where an artificial forest had been made, by some means or other, in a large, open square. There was a chase going on in this forest at the time when the king went by. The chase con- sisted of a living stag hunted by real dogs. The stag came and took refuge at the feet of the king's horse, and his majesty saved the poor animal's life. Thus the king was conducted to his palace. Several days were spent in preliminary pa- geants and ceremonies like the above, and then the coronation took place in the church, the king and his party being stationed on a large platform raised for the purpose in the most conspicuous part of the edifice. After the coronation there was a grand ban- 54 Margaret of Anjou. [1441. The banquet. Picture of the king. quet, at which the king, with his lords and great officers of state, sat at a marble table in a magnificent ancient hall. Henry Beaufort, the Bishop of Winchester, was the principal personage in all these ceremonies next to the king. Gloucester was very jealous of him, in respect to the conspicuous part which he took in these proceedings. Henry was quite young at the time of his cor- onations. He was a very pretty boy, and his countenance wore a mild and gentle expression. HENKY VI. IN UI8 YOUTH. 1441.] King Henry VI. 57 The old quarrel broke out again. The duchess's penance. The quarrel between the Duke of Gloucester and the bishop was kept, in some degree, sub- dued during this period, partly by the influence of the Duke of Bedford while he lived, and partly by Gloucester's mind being taken up to a considerable extent with other things, espe- cially with his campaigns in France; for he was engaged during the period of the king's minority in many important military expedi- tions in that country. At length, however, he came back to England, and there, when the king was about twenty years of age, the quar- rel between him and the bishop's party broke out anew. The king himself was, however, now old enough to take some part in such a difficulty, and so both sides appealed to him. Gloucester made out a series of twenty -four ar- ticles of complaint against the bishop. The bishop, on the other hand, accused the duke of treason, and he specially charged that his wife had attempted to destroy the life of the king by witchcraft. The duchess was con- demned on this charge, and it is said that, by way of penance, she was sentenced to walk barefoot through the most public street in Lon- don with a lighted taper in her hand. Some other persons, who were accused of being ac- complices in this crime, were put to death. 68 Makgaret of Anjou. [1441. Witchcraft. Position ot the king. Scheme formed by Beaufort. The witchcraft which it was said these per- sons practiced was that of making a waxen image of the king, and then, after connecting it with him in some mysterious and magical way by certain charms and incantations, melt- ing it away by degrees before a slow fire, by which means the king himself, as was sup- posed, would be caused to pine and wither away, and at last to die. -It was universally believed in those days that this could be done. Of course, such proceedings as these only em- bittered the quarrel more and more, and Glou- cester became more resolute and determined than ever in prosecuting his intrigues for de- priving the bishop of influence, and for getting the power into his own hands. The king, though he favored the cardinal, was so quiet and gentle in his disposition, and so little dis- posed to take an active part in such a quarrel, that the bishop could not induce him to act as decidedly as he wished. So he finally con- ceived the idea of finding some very intelligent and capable princess as a wife for the king, hop- ing to increase the power which he exercised in the realm through his influence over her. The lady that he selected for this purpose was Margaret of Anjou. 1420.] Margaret's Parents. 59 Provinces of France, Great families. Chapter IY. Margaret's Father and Mother. IIST former times, the territory whicli now con- stitutes France was divided into a great number of separate provinces, each of which formed almost a distinct state or kingdom. These several provinces were the possessions of lords, dukes, and barons, who ruled over them, respectively, like so many petty kings, with almost absolute sway, though they all ac- knowledged a general allegiance to the kings of France or of England. The more northern provinces pertained to England. Those in the interior and southern portions of the country were under the dominion of France. The great families who held these provinces as their possessions ruled over them in a very lordly manner. They regarded not only the territory itself which they held, but the right to govern the inhabitants of it as a species of prop- erty, which was subject, like any other estate, to descend from parent to child by hereditary right, to be conveyed to another owner by treaty or surrender, to be assigned to a bride 60 Margaret of Anjou. [1420. Anjou. King Kene. Lorraine. as her marriage portion, or to be disposed of in any other way that the lordly proprietors might prefer. These great families took ther names from the provinces over which they ruled. One of these provinces was Anjou.* The father of Margaret, the subject of this history, was a celebrated personage named Eegnier or Eene, commonly called King Bene. He was a younger son of the family which reigned over Anjou. It is from this circumstance that our heroine derives the name by which she is gen- erally designated — Margaret of Anjou. The reason why her father was called King Bene will appear in the sequel. Another of the provinces of France above referred to was Lorraine. Lorraine was a large, and beautiful, and very valuable country, situ- ated toward the eastern part of France. Anjou was considerably to the westward of it. The name of the Duke of Lorraine at this time was Charles. He had a daughter named Isabella. She was the heiress to all her father's possessions. She was a young lady of great beauty, of high spirit, of a very accomplished education, according to the ideas of those times. When Eene was about fourteen years old a match was arranged between him and Isabella, * See map at the eommencement of the vokime. 1429.] Margaret's Parents. 61 Marriage of liene to Isabella. Birth of Margaret. Theophanie. who was then only about ten. The marriage was celebrated with great parade, and the youthful pair went to reside at a palace called Pont a Mousson, in a grand castle which was given to Isabella by her father as a bridal gift at the time of her marriage. Here it was ex- pected that they would live until the death of her father, when they were to come into pos- session of the whole province of Lorraine. In process of time, while living at this castle, Eene and Isabella had several children. Mar- garet was the fifth. She was born in 1429. Her birthday was March 23. The little infant was put under the charge of a family nurse named Theophanie. Theo- phanie was a long- tried and very faithful do- mestic. She was successively the nurse to all of Isabella's children, and the family became so much attached to her that when she died Eene caused a beautiful monument to be raised to her memory. This monument contained a sculptured image of Theophanie, with two of the children in her arms. Yery soon after her birth Margaret was bap- tized with great pomp in the Cathedral in the town of Toul. A large number of relatives of high rank witnessed, and took part in the cere- mony. 62 Maegaeet of Anjou. [1431. IsabeUa's uncle Antoine. Cooflict for the possession of Lorraine. When at length Charles, Duke of Lorraine, Isabella's father, died, and the province should have descended to Isabella and Een^, there sud- denly appeared another claimant, who thought, not that he had a better right to the province than Isabella, but that he had more power to seize and hold it than she, even with all the aid that her husband Bene could afford her. This claimant was Isabella's uncle, the younger brother of Duke Charles who had just died. His name was Antoine de Yaudemonte, or, as it would be expressed in English, Anthony of Yaudemont. This uncle, on the death of Isa- bella's father, determined to seize the duchy for himself, instead of allowing it to descend to Is- abella, the proper heir, who, being but a wom- an, was looked upon with very little respect. "Lorraine," he said, "was too noble and valu- able a fief to descend in the family on the spin- dle side." So he collected his adherents and retainers, organized an army, and took the field. Isa- bella, on the other hand, did all in her power to induce the people of the country to espouse her cause. Eene took the command of the forces which were raised in her behalf, and went forth to meet Antoine. Isabella herself, taking the children with her, went to the city 1431.] Margaret's Parents. 63 The battle. Eene wounded and made prisoner. of JSTancy* — wliich was then, as now, the chief city of Lorraine, and was consequently the safest place for her-^intending to await there the result of the conflict. Little Margaret was at this time about two years old. The battle was fought at a place called Bulgneville, and the fortune of war, as it would seem, turned in this case against the right, for Kene's party were entirely defeated, and he himself was wounded and taken pris- oner. He fought like a lion, it is said, as long- as he remained unharmed ; but at last he re- ceived a desperate wound on his brow, and the blood from this wound ran down into his eyes and blinded him, so that he could do no more ; and he was immediately seized by the men who had wounded him, and made prison- er. The person who thus wounded and cap- tured him was the squire of a certain knight who had espoused the cause of Antoine, named the Count St. Pol. In the mean time Isabella had remained at Nancy with the children, in a state of the ut- most suspense and anxiety, awaiting the result * The position of Nancy, as well as the situation of the two provinces of Anjou and Lorraine, which are now depart- ments of France, may be seen by referring to any good map of that country, or to that at the commencement of this vol- ume. 64 Margaret of Akjou. [1431.1 Isabella's terror and distress. Heavy tidings. Sympathy for Isabella. of a conflict on which depended the fate of I every thing that was valuable and dear to her. J At length, at the window of the tower where': she was watching, with little Margaret in her ' arms, for the coming, of a herald from her has- band to announce his victory, her heart sank within her to see, instead of a messenger of joy and triumph, a broken crowd of fugitives, breathless and covered with dust and blood, suddenly bursting into view, and showing too plainly by their aspect of terror and distress that all was lost. Isabella was overwhelmed with consternation at the sight. She clasped little Margaret closely in her arms, exclaiming in tones of indescribable agony, " My husband is killed ! my husband is killed !" Her distress and anguish were somewhat calmed by the fugitives assuring her, when they arrived, that her husband was safe, though he had been wounded and taken prisoner. There was a great deal of sympathy felt for Isabella in her distress by all the people of Nancy. She was very young and very beau- tiful. Her children, and especially Margaret, were very beautiful too, and this greatly in creased the compassion which the people were disposed to feel for her. Isabella's mother was strongly inclined to make new efforts to raise 1431.] Margaret's Parents. 67 Isabella's intei-view with her uncle. Negotiations for peace. an army, in order to meet and fight ^ntoine again ; but Isabella herself, who was now more concerned for the safety of her husband than for the recovery of her dominions, was disposed to pursue a conciliatory course. So she sent word to her uncle that she wished to see him, and entreated him to grant her an interview. Antoine acceded to her request, and at the in- terview Isabella begged her uncle to make peace with her, and to give her back her hus- band. Antoine said that it was out of his power to liberate Eene, for he had delivered him to the custody of the Duke of Burgundy, who had been his ally in the war, and the duke had conveyed him away to his castle at Dijon, and shut him up there, and that now he would probably not be willing to give him up with- out the payment of a ransom. He said, how- ever, that he was willing to make a truce with Isabella for six months, to give time to see what arrangement could be made. This truce was agreed upon, and then, at length, after a long negotiation, terms of peace were concluded. Eene was to pay a large sum to the Duke of Burgundy for his ransom, and, in the mean time, while he was procuring the money, he was to leave his two sons in the 68 Maegaeet of Anjou. [1431 Hostages. Hard conditions of peace. duke's hands as hostages, to be held by the duke as security. In respect to Lorraine, An- toine insisted, as another of the conditions of peace, that Isabella's oldest daughter, Yolante, then about nine years old, should be betrothed to his son Frederick, so as to combine, in the next generation at least, the conflicting claims of the two parties to the possession of the ter- ritory ; and, in order to secure the fulfillment of this condition, Yolante was to be delivered immediately to the charge and custody of An- toine's wife, the mother of her future husband. Thus all of Isabella's children were taken away from her except Margaret. And even Marga- ret, though left for the present with her moth- er, did not escape being involved in the entan- glements of the treaty. Antoine insisted that she, too, should be betrothed to one of his par- tisans ; and, as if to make the case as painful and humiliating to Rene and Isabella as possi- ble, the person chosen to be her future husband was the very Count St. Pol whose squire had cut down and captured Rene at the battle of Bulgneville. These conditions were very hard, but Isabel- la consented to them, as it was only by so doing that any hope seemed to be opened before her of obtaining the release of her husband. And 1431.] Margaret's Parents. 69 Bene can not procure the money for his ransom. His long confinement. even this hope, in the end, proved delusive. Bene found that, notwithstanding all his efforts, he could not obtain the money which the duke required for his ransom. Accordingly, in order to save his boys, whom he had delivered to the duke as hostages, he was obliged to return to Dijon and surrender himself again a prisoner. His parting with his wife and children, before going a second time into a confinement to which they could now see no end, was heartrending. Even little Margaret, who was yet so very young, joined from sympathy in the general sorrow, and w^ept bitterly when her father went away. The duke confined his captive in an upper room in a high tower of the castle of Dijon, and kept him imprisoned there for several years. One of the boys was kept with him, but the oth- er was set at liberty. All this time Margaret re- mained with her mother. She was a very beau- tiful and a very intelligent child, and was a great favorite with all who knew her. The interest which was awakened by her beauty and her other personal attractions was greatly increased by the general sympathy which was felt for the misfortunes of her father, and the loneliness and distress of her mother. In the mean time, Rene, shut up in the tower 70 Margaret of Anjou. [1436. His occupations and amusements in prison. . Origin of Kane's royal title. at the castle of Dijon, made liimusif as content- ed as lie could, and employed his time in various peaceful and ingenious occupations. Though he had fought well in the battle with Antoine, he was, in fact, not at all of a warhke disposi- tion. He was very fond of music, and poetry, and painting; and he occupied his leisure dur- ing his confinement in executing beautiful min- iatures and paintings upon glass, after the man- ner of those times. Some of these paintings remained in the window of a church in Dijon, where they were placed soon after Eene paint- ed them, for several hundred years. It has already been stated that the name hy which Margaret's father is commonly desig- nated is King Eene. The origin of this royal title is now to be explained. He had an older brother, who became by inheritance, with Joan- na his wife, king and queen of the Two Sicilies, that is, of the kingdom consisting of the island of Sicily and the territory connected with Na- ples on the main land. The brother, at the close of his life, designated Eene as his heir. This happened in the year 1436, while Eene was still in captivity in the castle of Dijon. He could, of course, do nothing himself to assert his claims to this new inheritance, but Isabella immediate- ly assumed the title of Queen of the Two Sici- 1436.] Margaret's Parents. 71 Isabella and the children at Taraecon. lies for herself, and began at once to make prep- aration for proceeding to Italy and taking pos- session of the kingdom. While maturing her plans, she took up her residence for a time at the chateau of Tarascon, on the banks of the Eh one, with the two chil- dren who remained under her care, namely, her son Louis and Margaret. Her other son was at Dijon with his father, and the other daugh- ter, Yolante, had been given up, as has already been said, to the custody of the wife of Antoine, with a view of being married, as soon as she was old enough, to Antoine's son. The children attracted great attention at Ta- rascon. Their mother Isabella was by birth a lady of very high rank, her family being inti- mately connected with the royal family of France. She was now, too, by title at least, herself a queen. The children were very intel- ligent and beautifal, and the misfortunes and cruel captivity of their father and brother were known and talked of in all the country around. So the peasants and their families crowded around the chateau to see the children. They brought them wreaths of flowers and other vo- tive offerings. They sang songs to serenade them, and they built bonfires around the walls of the chateau at night, to drive away the infec- 72 Margaeet of Anjou. [1436. Witches and the plague. Isabella goes into Italy. tion of the plague, which was then prevailing in some parts of the countiy, and was exciting con- siderable alarm. The people of the country believed that this plague was produced by magic and witchcraft, and there were some poor old women, who came with the other peasants to the walls of the cha- teau of Tarascon to see the children, who were believed to be witches. Afterward the plague broke out at Tarascon, and Margaret's mother was obliged to go away, taking the children with her. The poor women were, however, seized and burned at the stake, it being univer- sally believed that it was they who had caused the plague. Isabella's arrangements were now so far ma- tured that she went at once into Italy with the children, and took up her abode there in the town of Capua. Eene still remained in captiv> ity, but Isabella caused him to be proclaimed King of the Two Sicilies with great pomp and parade. At the time of this ceremony, the two children, Margaret and her brother, were seated beside their mother in a grand state carriage, which was lined with velvet and embroidered with gold, and in this way they were conveyed through the streets of the city. After a time Eene was liberated from his 1436.] Margaret's Parents. 73 Eeno is at last set free. His temper and dispositiou. confinement, and restored to his family, but lie did not long enjoy this apparent return of pros- perity. His claim to the kingdom of Naples was disputed, and, after a conflict, he was ex- pelled from the country. In the mean time, the English had so far extended their conquests in France that both his native province of Anjou, and his wife's inheritances in Lorraine, had fallen into their hands, so that with all the aris- tocratic distinction of their descent, and the grandeur of their royal titles, the family were now, as it were, without house or home. They returned to France, and Isabella, with the chil- dren, found refuge from time to time with one and another of the great families to which she was related, while Eene led a wandering life, be- ing reduced often to a state of great destitution. He, however, bore his misfortunes with a very placid temper, and amused himself, wherever he was, with music, poetry, and painting. He was so cheerful and good-natured withal that he made himself a very agreeable companion, and was generally welcome, as a visitor, wherever he went. He retained the name of King Eene as long as he lived, though he was a king with- out a kingdom. At one time he was reduced, it is said, to such straits that to warm himself he used to walk to and fro in the streets of Mar- 74 Margaret of Anjou. [1436. King Rene's fireside. seilles, on the sunny side of the buildings, which circumstance gave rise to a proverb long known and often quoted in those parts, which desig- nated the act of going out into the sun to escape from the cold as warming one's self at King Eene's fireside. Such was the family from which Margaret of Anjou sprung. 1444.] KOYAL COUKTSHIP. 75 Margaret's talents and accomplishments, Oflftrs VICK.. T 290 Margaret of Anjou. [1471. Manner of Warwick's death. Margaret's despair. Imminent danger. Warwick had gone into the battle on foot, in order the more effectually to stimulate the emulation of his men, so that when, in the end, his forces were defeated, and fled, he himself, being encumbered by his armor, could not save himself, but was overtaken by his remorseless enemies and slain. The terrible agitation and anguish that this news excited in the mind of the queen it would be impossible to describe. She fell at first into a swoon, and when at length her senses re- turned, she was so completely overwhelmed with disappointment, vexation, and rage, and talked so wildly and incoherently, that her friends almost feared that she would lose her reason. Her son, the young prince, who was now nearly nineteen years of age, did all in his power to soothe and calm her, and at length so far succeeded as to induce her to consider what was to be done to secure her own and his safety. To remain where they were was to expose themselves to be attacked at any time by a body of Edward's victorious troops and conveyed prisoner to the Tower. There was another abbey at not a great dis- tance from where Margaret now was, which was endowed with certain privileges as a sanc- tuary, such that persons seeking refuge there 1471.] Bitter Disappointment. 291 She seeks security. The Countess of Warwick. Great reverse of fortune. under certain circumstances could not be taken away. The name of this retreat was Beau- lieu Abbey. Margaret immediately proceeded across the country to this place, taking with her the prince and nearly all the others of her par- ty. Either on her arrival here, or on the way, she met the Countess of Warwick, who, it will be recollected, had left Ilarfleur at the same time that she did. The countess's ship had been driven farther to the eastward, and she had finally landed at Portsmouth. Here she too had learned the news of the battle of Bar- net and of the death of her husband, and, be- ing completely overwhelmed with the tidings, and also alarmed for her own safety, she had determined to fly for refuge to Beaulieu Ab- bey too. The two unhappy ladies, who had parted, three weeks before, on the coast of France with such high and excellent expectations, now met, both plunged in the deepest and most over- whelming sorrow. Their hopes were blasted, all their bright prospects were destroyed, and they found themselves in the condition of help- less and wretched fugitives, dependent upon a religious sanctuary for the hope of even saving their lives. 292 Margaret of Akjou. [1471. Margaret found by friends. Her sad condition. Chapter XXIII. Childless, and a Widow. MARGAKET did not trust entirely for her safety to the sacredness of the sanctuary where she had sought refuge. She endeavor- ed, by all the means in her power, to keep the place of her retreat secret from all but her cho- sen and most trustworthy friends. Very soon, however, she was visited by some of these, es- pecially by some young nobles, who came to her exasperated, and all on fire with rage and resentment, on account of the death of their friends and relatives, who had been slain in the battle. They found Margaret, however, in a state of mind very different from their own. She was beginning to be discouraged. The long- continued and bitter experience of failure and disappointment, which had now, for so many years, been her constant lot, seemed at last to have had power to undermine and destroy even her resolution and energy. Her friends, when they came to see her, found her plunged in a sort of stupor of wretchedness and de- 1471.] Childless, and a Widow. 293 Her friends encourage her. Little success. Her wishes. spair from which they found it difficult to rouse her. And when, at length, they succeeded in so far awakening her from her despondency as to induce her to take some interest in their con- sultations, her only feeling for the time being seemed to be anxiety for the safety of her son. She begged and implored them to take some measures to protect him. They endeavored to convince her that her situation was not so des- perate as she imagined. They had still a pow- erful force, they said, on their side. That force was now rallying and reassembling, and, with her presence and that of the young prince at their head-quarters, the numbers and enthusi- asm of their troops would be very rapidly in- creased, and there was great hope that they might soon be able again to meet the enemy under more favorable auspices than ever. But the queen seemed very unwilling to ac- cede to their views. It was of no use, she said, to make any farther effort. They were not strong enough to meet their enemies in battle, and nothing but fresh disasters would result from making the attempt. There was nothing to be done but for herself and the young prince, with as many others as were disposed to share her fortunes, to return as soon as possible to 294 Maegaret of Anjou. [1471. The young prince. An army collected. To Bath. France, and tliere to remain and wait for better times. But the young prince was not willing to adopt tins plan. He was young, and full of confidence and hope, and he joined the nobles in nrging his mother to consent to take the field. His in- fluence prevailed; and Margaret, though with great reluctance and many forebodings, finally yielded. So she left the sanctuary, and, with the prince, was escorted secretly to the northward, in order to join the army there. The western counties of England, those lying on the borders of Wales, had long been very favorable to Henry's cause, and when the people learned that the queen and the young prince were there, they came out in great numbers, as the nobles had pre- dicted, to join her standard. In a short time a large army was ready to take the field. Margaret was at this time at Bath. She soon heard that King Edward was coming against her from London with a large army. Her own forces, she thought, were not yet strong enough to meet him ; so she formed the plan of cross- ing the Severn into Wales, and waiting there until she should have a larger force concen- trated. Accordingly, from Bath she went down to 1471.] Childless, and a Widow. 295 To BristoL Endccivors to cross the river. Arrival of Edward. Bristol, which, as will be seen from the map, is on the banks of the Severn, at a place where the river is very wide. She could not cross here, the lowest bridge on the river being at Glou- cester, thirty or forty miles farther up ; so she moved up to Gloucester, intending to cross there. But she found the bridge fortified, and in the possession of an officer under the orders of the Duke of Gloucester, who was a partisan of King Edward, and he refused to allow the queen to pass without an order from his master. It seemed not expedient to attempt to force the bridge, and, accordingly, Margaret and her party went on up the river in order to find some other place to cross into Wales. She was very much excited on this journey, and suffer- ed great anxiety, for the army of King Edward was advancing rapidly, and there was danger that she would be intercepted and her retreat cut off; so she pressed forward with the utmost diligence, and at length, after having marched thirty-seven miles in one day with her troops, she arrived at Tewkesbury, a town situated about midway between Gloucester and Wor- cester. When she arrived there, she found that Edward had arrived already within a mile of the place, at the head of a great army, and was ready for battle. 296 Makgaeet of Anjou. [1471. They make a stand. Battle of Tewkesbury. Preparations for the fight. There was, however, now an opportunity for Margaret to cross the river and retire for a time into Wales, and she was herself extremely de- sirous of doing so, but the young nobles who were with her, and especially the Duke of Som- erset, a violent and hot-headed young man, who acted as the leader of them, would not consent. He declared that he would retreat no farther. "We will make a stand here," said he, " and take such fortune as God may send us." So he pitched his camp in the park which lay upon the confines of the town, and threw up intrenchments. Many of the other leaders were strongly opposed to his plan of making a stand in this place, but Somerset was the chief in command, and he would have his way. He, however, showed no disposition to shel- ter himself personally from any portion of the danger to which his friends and followers were to be exposed. He took command of the ad- vanced guard. The young prince, supported by some other leaders of age and experience, was also to be placed in a responsible and im- portant position. When all was ready, Marga- ret and the prince rode along the ranks, speak- ing words of encouragement to the troops, and promising large rewards to them in case they gained the victory. 1471.] Childless, and a Widow. 299 Margaret's maternal anxiety. She witnesses the fight. Somerset. Margaret's heart was full of anxiety and agi- tation as the hour for the commencement of hostilities drew nigh. She had often before staked very dear and highly-valued friends in the field of battle, but now, for the first time, she was putting to hazard the life of her dear- ly beloved and only son. It was very much against her will that she was brought to incur this terrible danger. It was only the sternest necessity that compelled her to do it. When the battle began, Margaret withdrew to an elevation within the park, from which she could witness the progress of the fight. For some time her army remained on the defens- ive within their intrenchments, but at length Somerset, becoming impatient and impetuous, determined on making a sally and attacking the assailants in the open field. So, ordering the others to follow him, he is- sued forth from the lines. Some obeyed him, and others did not. After a while he returned within the lines again, apparently for the pur- pose of calling those who remained there to ac- count for not obeying him. He found Lord Wenlock, one of the leaders, sitting upon his horse idle, as he said, in the town. He imme- diately denounced him as a traitor, and, riding up to him, cut him down with a blow from his battle-axe, which cleft his skull. 800 Margaret of Anjou. [1471. Panic and flight. Margaret's terror. She swoons. Capture of the prince. The men who were under Lord Wenlock's banner, seeing their leader thus mercilessly slain, immediately began to fly. Their flight caused a panic, which rapidly spread among all the other troops, and the whole field was soon in utter confusion. When Margaret saw this, and thought of the prince, exposed, as he was, to the most immi- nent danger in the defeat, she became almost frantic with excitement and terror. She in- sisted on rushing into the field to find and save her son. Those around found it almost im- possible to restrain her. At length, in the struggle, her excitement and terror entirely overpowered her. She swooned away, and her attendants then bore her senseless to a carriage, and she was driven rapidly away out through one of the park gates, and thence by a b^^-road to a religious house near by, where it was thought she would be for the moment secure. The poor prince was taken prisoner. He was conveyed, after the battle, to Edward's tent. The historians of the day relate the following story of the sad termination of his career. When Edward, accompanied by his officers and the nobles in attendance upon him, cover- ed with the blood and the dust of the conflict, and fierce and exultant under the excitement 1471.] Childless, and a Widow. 803 Death of the Prince of Wales. Margaret receives the tidings. of slaughter and victory, came into the tent, and saw the handsome young prince standing there in the hands of his captors, he was at first struck with the elegance of his appear- ance and his frank and manly bearing. He, however, accosted him fiercely by demanding what brought him to England. The prince replied fearlessly that he came to recover his father's crown and his own inheritance. Upon this, Edward threw his glove, a heavy iron gauntlet, in his face. The men standing by took this as an indica tion of Edward's feelings and wishes in respect to his prisoner, and they fell upon him at once with their swords and murdered him upon the spot. Margaret did not know what had become of her son until the following day. By that time King Edward had discovered the place of her retreat, and he sent a certain Sir William Stan- ley, who had always been one of her most in- veterate enemies, to take her prisoner and bring her to him. It was this Stanley who, when he came, brought her the news of her son's death. He communicated the news to her, it was said, in an exultant manner, as if he was not only glad of the prince's death, but as if he rejoiced in having the opportunity of witnessing the 804 Margaret of Anjou. [1471. She is borne to London. Her condition on the journey. Her last hopa despair and grief witli whicli the mother was overwhelmed in hearing the tidings. Stanley conveyed the queen to Coventry, where King Edward then was, and placed her at his disposal. Edward was then going to London in a sort of triumphant march in hon- or of his victory, and he ordered that Stanley should take Margaret with him in his train. Anne of Warwick, her son's young bride, was taken to London too, at the same time and in the same way. During the whole of the journey Margaret was in a continued state of the highest excite- ment, being almost wild with grief and rage. She uttered continual maledictions against Ed- ward for having murdered her boy, and noth» ing could soothe or quiet her. It might be supposed that there would have been one source of comfort open to her during this dreadful journey in the thought that, in going to the Tower, which was now undoubt- edly to be her destination, she should rejoin her husband, who had been for some time im- prisoned there. But the hope of being thus once more united to almost the last object of affection that now remained to her upon earth, if Margaret really cherished it, was doomed to a bitter disappointment. The death of the 1471.] Childless, and a Widow. 805 Murder of the king, Tenible reverse of fortune. youDg prince made it now an object of great •importance to the reigning line that Henry him- self should be put out of the way, and, on the very night of Margaret's arrival at the Tower, her husband was assassinated in the room which had so long been his prison. Thus all Queen Margaret's bright hopes of happiness were, in two short months, complete- ly and forever destroyed. At the close of the month of March she was the proud and happy queen of a monarch ruling over one of the most wealthy and powerful kingdoms on the globe, and the mother of a prince who was en- dowed with every personal grace and noble accomplishment, afiianced to a high-born, beau- tifal, and immensely wealthy bride, and just entering what promised to be a long and glo- rious career. In May, just two months later, she was childless and a widow. Both her hus- band and her son were lying in bloody graves, and she herself, fallen from her throne, was shut up, a helpless captive, in a gloomy dungeon, with no prospect of deliverance before her to the end of her days. The annals even of roy- alty, filled as they are with examples of over- whelming calamity, can perhaps furnish no other instance of so total and terrible reverse of fortune as this. U 806 Margaret of Anjou. [14T1. The body of King Henry. Borne away on the river to Chertsey. Chapter XXIY Conclusion. ON the day following tlie assassination of Henry, the body was taken from the Tow- er and conveyed through the streets of London, with a strong escort of armed men to guard it, to the Church of St. Paul's, there to be public- ly exhibited, as was customary on such occa- sions. Such an exhibition was more necessary than usual in this case, as the fact of Henry's death might, perhaps, have afterward been call- ed in question, and designing men might have continued to agitate the country in his name, if there had not been the most positive proof furnished to the public that he was no more. The body remained lying thus during the day. When night came, it was taken away and " carried down to Blackfriar's — a landing upon the river nearly opposite Saint Paul's. Here there was a boat lying ready to receive the hearse. It was lighted with torches, and the watermen were at their oars. The hearse was put on board, and the body was thus borne away, over the dark waters of the river, to the w i ■ m 1471.] Conclusion. 309 Margaret in confinement. Wallingford, She is ransomed. lonely village of Chertsey, where it had been decided that he should be interred. For some time after Henry's death Margaret was kept in close confinement in the Tower. At length, finding that every thing was quiet, and that the new government was becoming firmly established, the rigor of the unhappy captive's imprisonment was relaxed. She was removed first to Windsor, and afterward to Wallingford, a place in the interior of the country, where she enjoyed a considerable degree of personal free- dom, though she was still very closely watched and guarded. At length, about four years afterward, her father. King Eene, succeeded in obtaining her ransom for the sum of fifty thousand crowns. Eene was not the possessor of so much money himself, but he induced King Louis to pay it, on condition of his conveying to him his family domain. The ransom was to be paid in ^ve annual in- stallments, but on the payment of the first in- stallment the queen was to be released and al- lowed to return to her native land. It was stip- ulated, too, that, as a condition of her release, she was formally and forever to renounce all the rights of every kind within the realm of 810 Margaret of Anjou. [1476. The commissioner. Margaret crosses the Channel. At Kouen. England to which she might have laid claim through her marriage with Henry. It might have been supposed that they would have re- quired her to sign this renunciation before re- leasing her. But it was held by the law of En- gland, then as now, that a signature made under durance was invalid, the signer not being free. So it was arranged that an English commission- er was to accompany her across the Channel, and go with her to Eouen, where he was to de- liver her to the French embassadors, who, in the name of Louis, were to be responsible for her signing the document. This plan was carried into effect. Margaret set out from the castle of Wallingford under the care of a man on whom Edward's govern- ment could rely for keeping a close watch over her, and taking care that she went on quietly through England to the port of embarkation. This port was Sandwich. Here she embarked on board a vessel, with a retinue of three ladies and seven gentlemen, and bade a final farewell to the kingdom which she had entered on her bridal tour with such high and exultant ex- pectations of grandeur and happiness. She arrived at Dieppe in the beginning of 1476, and proceeded immediately to Eouen, where the commissioner, who came to attend 1476.] Conclusion. 811 Her renunciation. Feelings with which she signed it. her, delivered lier to the French embassadors appomted to receive her, and attend to the sign- ing of the renunciation. The document was written in Latin, but the import of it was as follows : I, Margaret, formerly in England married, re- nounce all that I could pretend to in England, by the conditions of my marriage, with all oth- er things there, to Edward, now King of En- gland. It cost Margaret no effort to sign this paper. With the death of her husband and her son all hope had been extinguished in her bosom, and life now possessed nothing that she desired. She signed this fatal document, renouncing not only all claims to be henceforth considered a queen, but all pretension that she had ever been one, with a passive indifference and unconcern which showed that her spirit was broken, and that the fires of pride and ambition which had burned so fiercely in her breast were now, at last, extinguished forever. When the paper was signed Margaret was dismissed and left at liberty to go her own way to her native province of Anjou, where it was her intention to spend the remainder of her 812 MARaARET OF Anjou. [1476. Ungenerousness of Louis. An escort offered. Danger. days. Her plan was to pass by the way of Par- is, in order to see once more her cousin, King Louis, who had treated her with so much con- sideration and honor when she was on her way to England with a fair prospect of finding her husband upon the throne. But the case was different now, Louis thought, and instead of re- ceiving kindly her intimation that she was in- tending to visit Paris on her way home, he sent her word that she had better not come, and ad- vised her instead to make the best of her way to her father in Anjou. He, however, as if to soften this incivility, sent an escort to accompany her in her journey home, but Margaret was so stung by her cous- in's heartless abandonment of her in her dis- tress that she resolved to accept no favor at his hands ; so she refused the escort, and set out with her few personal companions alone. This little blazing up of the old flames of pride and resentment in her heart came near, however, to costing Margaret her life, for she had not gone far on her journey before an emer- gency occurred in which an escort would have been of great service to her. It seems that when the English were driven out of Norman- dy, many families and some whole villages re- mained of people who were too poor to return. 1476.] Conclusion. 813 English people in Normandy. Margaret at the inn. Pdot at the inn. These people were now in a yevj low and mis- erable condition. They mourned continually the hard necessity by which they had been left without friends or protection in a foreign land ; and they understood, too, that the first begin- ning of the abandonment of their possessions in France by the English was the cession of cer- tain provinces by the government of Henry YI. at the time of that monarch's marriage with Margaret of Anjou, and that all the subsequent misfortunes of their countrymen in France, by which, in the end, the whole country had been lost, had their origin in these transactions. Now. it happened that Margaret, on her jour- ney from Eouen to Anjou, stopped the first night at one of these villages. The people, see- ing a party of strangers come to town, gathered round the inn at night from curiosity to learn who they might be. When they were inform- ed that it was Margaret of Anjou, Queen of En- gland, who had been banished from the king- dom, and was now returning home, they were excited to the highest pitch of anger against her as the author of all their sufferings. They made a rush into the house to seize her, and, if they had been successful, they would doubtless have killed her upon the spot. But some of the gentlemen who were in her party defended 814 Margaret of Anjou. [1476. Margaret arrives in Anjou. Her father. her sword in hand, and kept the mob at bay until she gained her apartment. They guard- ed her there until they could send for the au- thorities, who came and dispersed the mob. Margaret immediately returned to Eouen, will- ing enough now to accept of an escort. A prop- er guard was provided for her, and under the protection of it she set out once more on her journey, and this time went on in safety. When Margaret at last reached her native country of Anjou, she was. received very kind- ly by her father, and went to live with him in a castle called the castle of Eeculee, situated about a league from Angers, the capital of the province. Here she remained about four years. . It was a very pleasant place. The castle was situated upon the bank of a river, and yet in a com- manding situation, which afforded a pretty view of the town. There was a beautiful garden at- tached to the castle, and a gallery of painting and sculpture. Her father, King Eene, was a painter himself, and he amused himself a great deal in painting pictures to add to his collection or to give to his friends. But Margaret could take no interest in any of these things. Her mind was all the time filled with bitter recollections of the past, which, 1476.] Conclusion. 315 Dreadful depression of spiiits. Its effects. Death of her father. even if she did not cling to and clierish them, she could not dispel. She dwelt continually upon thoughts of her husband and her child. She made ceaseless efforts to obtain possession of their bodies, in order that she might have them transported to Anjou, and, as she could not succeed in this, she paid annually a consid- erable sum to secure the services of priests to say masses over their graves in England, in or- der to secure the repose of their souls. Indeed, the anguish and agitation which con- tinually reigned in her heart preyed upon her like a worm in the centre of a flower. "Her eyes, once so brilliant and expressive," says one of her historians, " became hollow and dim, and permanently inflamed from continual weeping." Indeed, the whole mass of her blood became corrupted, and a fearful disease affected her once beautiful skin, making her an object of commiseration to all who beheld her. She continued in this state until her father died. He, on his death-bed, committed her to the care of an old and faithful friend, who, aft- er King Eene's decease, took her with him to his own castle of Damprierre, which was situ- ated about twenty-five miles farther up the river. But, though Margaret was treated very kind- 816 Margaret of Anjou. [1476. The closing scene. Ij by the friend to whom her father thus con- signed her, she did not long survive this change. She died, and was buried in the cathedral at Angers, and for centuries afterward the ecclesi- astics of the chapter, once every year, at the re- turn of the proper anniversary, performed a solemn ceremony over her grave by walking round it with a slow and measured step, sing- ing a hymn. The End, BOOKS BY THE ABBOTTS. THE FRANCONIA STORIES. By Jacob Abbott. In Ten Volumes. Beautifully Illus* trated. 16mo, Cloth, 90 cents per Vol. ; the set complete^ in case, $9 00. 1. Malleville. 6. Stuyvesaut. 2. Mary Bell. 7. Agnes. 3. Ellen Linn. 8. Mary Erskine. 4. "Wallace. 9. 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