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town with archers, and posted their army on the hills to the southeast.

      Margaret was not dismayed at the intelligence that such formidable foes were in her way. On the contrary, she intimated her intention of passing through St. Albans in spite of their opposition; but did not deem it safe to trust to force alone. One of the ladies of her court – so runs the story – happened to have, in other days, interested Warwick, and had not quite lost her influence with "The Stout Earl." Upon this dame – the daughter of Sir Richard Woodville and the wife of John Grey of Groby – devolved the duty of playing the spy; and accordingly she repaired to Warwick under the pretense of asking some favor. The lady was cunning enough to act her part with discretion; and she, doubtless, brought her royal mistress intelligence which gave the Lancastrians courage to proceed.

      It was the morning of the 17th of February, 1461, when the van of the queen's army advanced to force their way through St. Albans. At first the attempt was unsuccessful; and the Lancastrians were met by Warwick's bowmen with a flight of arrows that caused them to fall back from the market-place. Undaunted by this repulse, Margaret persevered; and, driving the archers before her, she brought her soldiers into action with the main body of the Yorkists in a field called Bernard's Heath.

      At this point the Lancastrians found their task more easy than they could have anticipated. For the third time during the wars of the Roses occurred an instance of desertion in the face of the enemy. At Ludlow, Andrew Trollope had left the Yorkists; at Northampton, Lord Grey de Ruthin had abandoned the Lancastrians; and now Lovelace, who at the head of the Kentish men led Warwick's van, deserted the great earl in the hour of need. This circumstance placed the victory in Margaret's power; and a dashing charge made by John Grey of Groby, at the head of the Lancastrian cavalry, decided the day in favor of the Red Rose. A running fight was, nevertheless, kept up over the undulating ground between St. Albans and the little town of Barnet; and, a last stand having in vain been made on Barnet Common, Warwick was fain to retreat with the remnants of his army.

      So unexpected had been the queen's victory, and so sudden the earl's discomfiture, that the captive king was left in solitude. However, Lord Bonville, grandfather of the warrior who fell at Wakefield, and Sir Thomas Kyriel, renowned in the wars of France, went to the royal tent, and in courteous language expressed their regret at leaving him unattended. Henry, entreating them to remain, gave them a distinct promise that in doing so they should incur no danger; and after accepting the royal word as a pledge for their personal safety they consented, and advised the king to intimate to the victors that he would gladly join them.

      A message was accordingly dispatched; and several Lancastrian lords came to convey Henry of Windsor to the presence of his terrible spouse. The monk-king found Margaret of Anjou and the Prince of Wales in Lord Clifford's tent, and, having expressed his gratification at their meeting, rewarded the fidelity of his adherents by knighting thirty of them at the village of Colney. Among these were the Prince of Wales, and John Grey of Groby, the warrior who had broken the Yorkists' ranks, and who, dying of his wounds a few days later, left a widow destined to bring countless miseries on the royal race whose chiefs had so long ruled England. After the ceremony of knighting his partisans, Henry repaired to the Abbey of St. Albans and returned thanks for the victory.

      While Henry was occupied with devotional exercises, the queen was unfortunately guilty of an outrage which, even if she had been in other respects faultless, must have for ever associated crime with the name of Margaret of Anjou. The Lord Bonville and Sir Thomas Kyriel had consented, as we have seen, from motives of compassion and romantic honor, to remain with Henry; and the king had on his part given a distinct promise that no evil should befall them. But by the queen and her captains no respect was paid to Henry; in fact, much less decorum was observed toward him by the Lancastrians than by the Yorkists. At all events Margaret, exhibiting the utmost disregard for her husband's promise, ordered a scaffold to be erected at St. Albans; and, in defiance of all faith and honor, Lord Bonville and Sir Thomas Kyriel died by the hands of the executioner.

      Meanwhile, Margaret's adherents were taking a sure way to render her cause unpopular. Ere marching toward London the men of the north had, as the price of their allegiance to the Red Rose, covenanted to have the spoil south of the Trent; and, resolved not to return home empty-handed, they had forayed with so much energy as to spread terror wherever they went. At St. Albans their rapacity knew no limits. Not only did they plunder the town with an utter disregard to the rights of property, but stripped the abbey with a sacrilegious hardihood which rapidly converted the head of that great monastic house from a zealous Lancastrian to a violent partisan of the White Rose.

      The report of the lawless scenes enacted at St. Albans was carried to London, and the citizens, who believed that the queen had marked them as objects of her vengeance, were impressed with a sense of danger, and rather eager to win back her favor. When, therefore, the northern army lay at Barnet, and Margaret sent to demand provisions, the mayor hastened to forward some cart-loads of "lenten stuff" for the use of her camp. The populace, however, exhibited a courage which their wealthier neighbors did not possess, and rising in a mass at Cripplegate stopped the carts, and forcibly prevented the provisions leaving the city. The mayor, in alarm, sent the recorder to the king's council, and moreover interested Lady Scales and the Duchess of Bedford to intercede with the queen, and represent the impolicy of exasperating the commons at such a crisis. This led to another scene of lawless outrage. Some lords of the council, with four hundred horsemen, headed by Sir Baldwin Fulford, were sent to investigate matters, and attempted to enter London at Cripplegate. Again, however, the populace fought for the White Rose; and the Lancastrian horsemen, being repulsed, plundered the northern suburbs in retaliation, and left matters infinitely worse than they had previously appeared.

      While affairs were in this posture – Margaret's heart beating high with the pride of victory – a price set on the head of Edward of York – the Lancastrian lords cherishing the prospect of vengeance – "the wealth of London looking pale, knowing itself in danger from the northern army" – and the citizens apprehensive of being given over to the tender mercies of Grahams and Armstrongs – from Mortimer's Cross there arrived news of battle and bloodshed. The citizens resumed their feelings of security; the wealth of London appeared once more safe from huge Borderers; and Margaret of Anjou, forcibly reminded that Edward Plantagenet and Richard Neville yet lived to avenge their sires, prepared to return to "Northumberland, the nursery of her strength."

      CHAPTER XIV

      A PLANTAGENET AND THE TUDORS

      At the opening of the year 1461, a princely personage, of graceful figure and distinguished air, rather more than twenty years of age, and rather more than six feet in height, might have been seen moving about the city of Gloucester, whose quiet streets, with old projecting houses, and whose Gothic cathedral, with stained oriel window and lofty tower, have little changed in aspect since that period. The youthful stranger, who was wonderfully handsome, had golden hair flowing straight to his shoulders, a long oval countenance, a rich but clear and delicate complexion, broad shoulders, and a form almost faultless. Perhaps his eye roved with too eager admiration after the fair damsels who happened to cross his path; but it was not for want of more serious subjects with which to occupy his attention; for the tall, handsome youth was Edward Plantagenet, Earl of March; and he had been sent to the Welsh Marches to recruit soldiers to fight the battles of the White Rose.

      Edward of York was a native of Rouen. In that city he was born in 1441, while his father ruled Normandy. At an early age, however, he was brought to England, to be educated in Ludlow Castle, under the auspices of Sir Richard Croft, a warlike Marchman, who had married a widow of one of the Mortimers. Under the auspices of Croft and of his spouse, who, at Ludlow, was known as "The Lady Governess," Edward grew up a handsome boy, and was, from the place of his birth, called "The Rose of Rouen," as his mother had been called "The Rose of Raby." Early plunged into the wars of the Roses, the heir of York never acquired any thing like learning, but became a warrior of experience in his teens; and, when at Northampton, bearing his father's banner, he exhibited a spirit which inspired the partisans of York with high hopes.

      When Edward received intelligence that, on Wakefield Green, his father, the Duke of York, had fallen in battle against Margaret of Anjou, and that his brother, the Earl of Rutland, had been barbarously murdered by Lord Clifford, the prince, in the spirit of that age, vowed vengeance, and applied

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