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THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

WILLIAM HAREISON AINSWORTH,

AtriHOE OB

PEESTON FIGHT," "BOSCOBEL," " MANCHESTER EEBELS," " TOWEB
OF LONDON," " OLD SAINT PAUL's," &C. &C. &C.

I met her as returning

In solemn penance from the public cross.

Submissive, sad, and lowly was her look;

A burning taper in her hand she bore.

Her streaming eyes bent ever on thd earth,

Except when in some bitter pang of sorrow.

To heaven she seemed in fervent zeal to raise them,

And beg that mercy man denied her here.

ROWE. Jane Shore.

IN THREE VOLUMES.

YOL. III.

LOXDON :
TINSLEY BROTHERS, S, CATHERINE STREET, STRAND.

1873.

\_Right of Translation reserved by the Author. 1

1/>3

A^^/

CONTENTS OF VOL. UI.

BOOK IV.— EDWARD THE FOURTH.
(Contimied.)

HI.

PAGE

Tox AND Geese 'S

lY.
How Ed"\vakd deeply resented the ArrROXT of-
fered Hiil BY LoiriS, AND VOWED TO I>-VADE

France again 22

V.

WUAT PASSED IN THE KiNG's AnTE-CHA5IBER, AND OF

THE Secret Instructions given by Gloucester
TO Catesby 38

IV CONTENTS.

VI.

Page
How TRE WaEKAXT FOU TeX TnOUSANB GoiDEN

Crowns by the King to Jaxe disappeared . 4S

YII.
Or Edward's Lisx Banquet, and how it ended . 63

VIII.
"What occurred at the King's Death-bed . . 78

IX.

The King's last Giets to Jane .... 88

X.

How King Edward's Body was exposed to Public
View on the Day of his Death in Westmin-
ster Abbey 100

XI.
How King Edward the Fourth was interred in

Saint George's Chapel 120

CONTENTS.

BOOK v.— THE ABBEY SANCTUARY.

I.

PAGE

How Jaxe devoted Herself to the Queen . . 131

II.

How the Archbishop of York bkought the Great
Seal to the Queen 147

III.

The Abbot of Westmixster 159

IV.

How THE Queen delivered up the Duke of York
to Cardinal Bourchier and the Lords . . 16S

V.

How the Marquis of Dorset took Refuge in the
Sanctuabt 170

VI.

By whom Jane was induced to quit the Sanc-
tuary 184

VI CONTENTS.

BOOK VL— LORD HASTINGS.

I.

PAGE

Showing the Perfidy of Alice Eokdha^i . . 195

II.

How Jane was arrested and taken to the Tower . 202

III.
How Jane was brought before the Lord Pro-
tector and the Council 210

IV.
Presages of III 222

How Lord Hastings was Beheaded on Tower
Green 232

BOOK YIL— THE PENANCE.

I.
Of the Attempt made by Dorset to deliver the
Young Princes from the Totter . . . 245

CONTENTS. Vll

11.

PASE

How THE Attempt failed 257

III.

In what Manner the Young Pkinces webe put to
Death in the Garden Tower .... 205

IV.

How Jane was delivered to the Bishop op Lon-
don FOR Punishment 277

V.

How THE Penance was performed .... 285

VI.
Expiation 294

THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

33oofe tl^e Jfourtfi.

[continued,]

EDWARD THE FOURTH.

VOL. J II.

III.

rOX AXD GEESE.

The Court had removed from Westminster
to Windsor Castle, and Edward had not
been at the latter place many days when
intelligence was brought him that the young
Duchess Marie of Burgundy, daughter of
Charles the Bold, whom Clarence had sought
in marriage, but who had bestowed her
hand upon Maximilian, Duke of Austria,
had been killed by a fall from her horse
while liawkino;.

B 2

THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

This sad event disturbed the king greatly,
'inasmuch as it was likely to lead to im-
^portant occurrences. The ill-fated duchess,
;thus suddenly snatched away in the spring
of life, left one child, a daughter, then only
three and a half years old. Marguerite of
Austria, the child in question, was now the
greatest heiress of the day ; and it was said
that when the wily Louis of France heard
'of the death of the duchess, wholly disre-
garding his treaty with the King of Eng-
land, he resolved to affiance the infant
•duchess to the Dauphin.

This startling piece of news, conveyed by
the En2;lisli ambassadors at the Court of
France, was well calculated to alarm Ed-
ward ; but after reflecting upon it, and con-
sulting with the queen, he -thought it im-

EDWARD THE FOURTH.

probable, well knowing that Maximilian,
the father of the child, would be adverse ta
the alliance ; and he therefore contented
himself with instructino; his ambassador, the
Lord Howard, who was then at Plessis-les--
Tours, with Louis, to watch carefully over-
the cunning king's proceedings, and report
them. For his own part, he said, he refused
to doubt his good brother's sincerity.

A more impolitic course could not have
been adopted. Heavily bribed by Louis, the
ambassadors sent their ro3^al master no fur-
ther information till the secret treaty for
the marriage, of which they were perfectly
cognisant, had been concluded at Arras,-
and the little princess was on the way to
Paris.

Whatever rumours reached him, Edward-

THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

disregarded tliem, and smiled incredulously
when warned by some of his faithful coun-
cillors against the artifices of Louis.

In a large with drawing-room, belonging
to the queen's apartments in the castle,
hung with cloth of gold arras, and other-
wise splendidly furnished, were assembled,
one afternoon, all the king's children —
namely, two 3'oung princes and six prin-
cesses ; and a more charming collection of
young persons, ranging from very tender
years to Avell-nigh sixteen, could not be
found.

The queen had brought her royal hus-
band a numerous family, for three were
dead. Of the eight left, all were distin-
guished for grace and good looks, and some
of the princesses were exquisitely beautiful.
Elizabeth of York, the eldest of Edward's

EDWARD THE FOURTH.

daughters, who was now, as just intimated,
in her sixteenth year, possessed great per-
sonal charms, though they were scarcely
fully developed, and was extremely amiable
in disposition. Her own choice had not
been consulted in the important marriage
a,rranged for her by the king her father;
but although she had no predilection for
the Dauphin, and had not even exchanged
a letter with him, she was naturally weU
pleased with the notion of becoming Queen
of France. Eventually, as is well known,
she made as great a match, being wedded
to Henry the Seventh of England ; but this
could not be then foreseen, for Richmond
was then held captive in Brittany.

The Princess Elizabeth had a slight and
graceful figure, and her features were regu-
lar, beautifully moulded, and characterised

THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

by great sweetness of expression. She was
very richly dressed, as, indeed, were all her
sisters, even the youngest of them, who was
merely a little girl. Her fair tresses were
covered by a caul of gold, and allowed to
stream down her back, while her slender
waist was spanned by a magnificent girdle.
Her cote-hardie was of figured satin, and
worn so long as almost to hide her pointed
shoes.

The young princesses, her sisters, were
all equally richly dressed ; three of them,
Cicely, Anne, and Bridget, in kirtles of
cloth of gold and silver ; and the two
younger, Mary and Catherine, in little
gowns of embroidered velvet.

All five were excessively pretty, but per-
haps the prettiest of the whole party was
the second daughter. Cicely, who bore a

EDWARD THE FOURTH.

marked resemblance to her royal father.
She was then promised to the Prince of
Scotland, but actually married Lord Wells.
The Princess Cicely had lovelj^ features,
rich brown tresses, soft blue eyes, and a
brilliant complexion.

The Princess Anne resembled her mother,
and promised to be quite as beautiful as the
queen was in her younger days. She was
to have married into the royal house of
Austria, but became Duchess of Norfolk.

Bridget, who, even as a child, had a
meek and devout appearance, became a
nun. The Princess Mary ought to have
been Queen of Denmark, but died too
soon.

Edward would fain have married his
youngest daughter, Catherine, to the heir
to the throne of Portugal, but fate decreed

lO THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

it otherwise, and gave the fair princess to
an English noble, William Courtenay, Earl
of Devonshire.

Thus it will be seen that not one of these
young princesses married according to their
royal father's plans. Perhaps they were
happier in the alliances they formed. We
cannot answer that question. Fortunately,
the princes, their brothers, could not fore-
see the dark fate that awaited them.

Edward, Prince of Wales, then nearly
thirteen, Avas graver and more thoughtful
than consorted with his years. He was of
a studious turn, and not so fond of sports
and exercises as his father had been at his
age, but he was not allowed to neglect
them. His health was somewhat delicate,
and this gave a pale hue to his skin, and.

EDWARD THE FOURTH. 1 1

perhaps, iniparted a slightly melancholy
cast to his countenance. He might have
divined that his life would not be long.
His eyes were large and black, but lacked
fire, and had an almost feminine softness ;
and his cheeks were not so rounded as they
should have been, and wanted bloom. His
looks were full of sensibility. His limbs
were -well proportioned, but extremely
slender, and he was tall for his ao'e. His
dark-brown hair was cut short over the
brow, which was paler than his cheek, and
bore traces of great delicacy ; but long
locks hunii down at the sides and at the
back.

Very different from the Prince of Wales
was Eichard Duke of York. He was rather
more than three years younger than his

12 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

brother, was full of health and spirit, having
a rosy complexion, bright blue ej'es, and
long, fair locks.

The young duke was never happier than
when in the saddle. He was constantly in
the tilt-yard, and had a little suit of armour
made for him and a small lance.

On the present occasion he was attired in
a white satin doublet, figured with silver,
his surcoat being of blue velvet, ornamented
with the royal cognisance. His long hose
were of white silk, and his shoes of velvet.

Though different in character, as in ap-
pearance, the two brothers were strongly
attached to each other, and evinced their
regard by a most affectionate manner. As
they now stood together in the midst of
their fair sisters, the Prince of Wales had
his arm over the vouno: duke's shoulder.

EDWARD THE FOURTH. 1 3

In another part of the room three or four
middle-aged dames, who acted as gover-
nesses to the young princesses, were seated
at a table playing at marteaux — a game in
which little ivory balls were placed in the
holes of a board — with the two tutors of
the young princes. The pages in attendance
were amusing themselves with small nine-
pins— then called closkeys, but they had
retired into the deep embrasure of a window,
and left their charges to themselves. Other
attendants in the royal livery were col-
lected at the lower end of the room.

" Madame la Dauphine," said the Prince
of Wales to his eldest sister, "I suppose
you will soon set out for France, to con-
clude your marriage with the Dauphin. I
hear that the Sire de Beaujeu, with his
wife and a brilliant company, arc to be

14 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

sent to meet you at Calais, and conduct
you to Paris, where you will have a mag-
nificent reception."

" You know more than I do," replied the
Princess Elizabeth. " I have heard no-
thing about it. But I believe that a mes-
senger from our ambassador, the Lord
Howard, is expected to-day. Then, no
doubt, I shall learn my fate."

" I wish you would take me with you,
Madame la Dauphine," cried the Duke of
York. " I should so much like to see Paris.
I am told the fetes will be splendid — far
finer than any we have in London."

" Oh ! take us all with you, dear Madame
la Dauphine !" cried several small voices,
delightedly. "We can go as demoiselles
d'honneur."

"You must ask the queen,- and not me,"

EDWARD THE FOURTH. I5

replied the Princess Elizabeth. "If she
consents, I shall be delighted to take you."

" I have already petitioned her majesty,"^
said the Princess Cicely ; " and though I
almost went down on my knees, she had
the cruelty to refuse me."

" Oh, dear ! then there is little chance for
us !" cried the Princesses Anne and Mary.

" You forget you are both engaged to be
married," remarked the Prince of Wales.
"What would the King of Denmark say to
you, Mary?"

" I don't care for the Kinii' of Denmark !"
replied the little princess. " I have never
seen him !"

"I have never seen the Dauphin," ob-
served the Princess Elizabeth. " Yet I
would not do anything to displease him."

"None of us have seen our intended hus-

l6 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

bands," said Cicely. " Nor shall we be al-
lowed to do so till our turn comes. I have
no wish to visit Edinburgh, where my
sweet prince dwells, but I have a very great
desire to go to Paris."

" I thought you were frightened of King
Louis ?" said the Duke of York.

" So I am ; dreadfully frightened of him,"
rejoined Cicely. " But he won't be at the
Louvre. He never leaves Plessis-les-Tours.
I wouldn't go there for the world. They
say all the habitations near the chateau are
pulled down and the trees hung with dead
otiies.

" Those are idle stories," remarked \h.Q
Princess Elizabeth. " I make no doubt
Plessis is a very pleasant place, and the old
king extremely good-natured."

" Plessis, I am sure, cannot- be worse than

EDWARD THE FOURTH. 1 7"

the Tower," remarked the Duke of York.
" I mil always melancholy when I go there.
Yet the king, our father, likes the place."

"He has not been there of late," ob-
served the Prince of Wales. " I have never
liked the Tower since our uncle Clarence-
died there in that mysterious manner."

"Yes, that was a sad thing!" said the-
Duke of York. Then lowering his voice,
he added, " I wish it had been our uncle-
Gloucester, instead."

"You are an ungrateful boy," said the-
Princess Elizabeth, gravely. " Your uncle
Gloucester is very fond of you."

"His love is feigned," said the little duke.-
" I don't like him."

"Neither do I," observed the Prince of
Wales. "He is malicious and spiteful."

"You wrong him, Edward," said Eliza- -

VOL. III. c

1 8 I THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

beth. *' 'Tis his manner. He has a good
heart."

" He has imposed upon j^ou, sweet sister,"
rejoined the Prince of Wales. " I am not
to be deceived by him."

The princess made no answer, but, turn-
ing to little Bridget, who had hitherto
taken no part in the conversation, she said :

" When I am Queen of France, as I shall
be one of these days, Bridget — for the king
is growing old — you must come and stay
with me at the Louvre."

*'That cannot be, Elizabeth," rejoined the
little girl, looking at her fixedly. " I shall
be an abbess before you are queen."

" Bridget doesn't know what she is talk-
ing about," cried Cicely.

"Yes, I do," replied the little princess.
^' I mean to be a nun, and in time I shall

EDWARD THE FOURTH. 1 9

become an abbess ; and when I am an
abbess, Elizabeth will come to see me, but
I shall not go to her."

This reply made the others look rather
grave, but the Prince of Wales called out :

"We have talked quite long enough. Let
us amuse ourselves with some game."

" What shall we play at ?" cried the Duke
of York.

" I am for Prime-Merime," said Cicely.

" And I for Queue-leuleu," said Anne.

" I prefer Cache-cache," said Mary.

" My game is Cheval do Bois," said the
little Catherine.

" And mine Pince-sans-rire," added the
Prince of Wales. "But what say you,
Bridget?"

" I don't mean to play," replied the future
abbess, demurely.

c 2

20 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

" Since every one has a different choice^
I will decide," said the Duke of York.
" We will play at fox and geese. You shall
all be the geese, and I will be the fox."

And as they all dispersed, except the
Princess Elizabeth and little Bridget, who
remained looking on, the young prince bent
down his head, rounded his shoulders as
much as he could, and altered his gait, so as
to give a grotesque representation of the
Duke of Gloucester.

Though absurd, the likeness was instantly
recognised, and the younger girls screamed
with laughter, as the little prince chased
them about the room, marching in a very
haughty manner, like Gloucester.

Seeing what was going on, the pages
joined in the merriment, and the governesses
and tutors looked round from the marteau

EDWARD THE FOURTH. 2 1

table, at Avhich they Avere seated, and
smiled.

The royal children were in the very midst
of the fun, when the arras curtain masking
the entrance to the adjoining apartment was
suddenly drawn aside, and the king and
queen came in, closely followed by the Duke
of Gloucester.

22 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

IV.

HOW EDWAUD DEEPLY KESENTBD THE AFFRONT OFFERED-
HIM BY LOUIS, AND VOWED TO INVADE FRANCE AGAIN.

So quiet was the entrance of the royal
party, and so engrossed were tlie young
Duke of York and the little princesses by
their game, that for a few moments they
were quite unconscious they were observed
by the very person who ought not to have
seen them.

Gloucester had, therefore, the mortifica-
tion of seeing himself mimicked by his^
youthful nephew ; but what was infinitely

EDWARD THE FOURTH. 23

more annoying, he heard the laughter and
jests excited by the representation.

Nevertheless, he preserved his counte-
nance, and would have feigned not to un-
derstand what was going on, if Malbouche,
who was close behind him, had not called
his attention to the little duke.

''Perdie! his highness is a rare mimic,"
he cried. " He has cauo;ht me to the
life."

" Go to, knave !" rejoined Gloucester.
'' The mockery is not meant for thee, as
thou well know'st."

"For whom, then, can it be intended?"
said the jester, innocently. " I cannot sup-
pose the duke would ridicule your grace.
Yet, now I look again, it may be so."

At this moment the game stopped, and
the little actors engaged in it seemed

.24 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

.abashed. The principal offender expected
to be severely reprimanded, but the king
.merely said to him :

" Personal deformities ought never to be
^derided. You must not do the like again,
or you will be corrected. Go and apologise
to the duke, your uncle."

The young prince instantly obeyed. As-
suming a penitential air, he went up to
Gloucester, and said :

" Your pardon, gentle uncle, if I have
oifended you."

" Nay, I have been highly diverted by
your drollery, fair nephew," replied Gloii-
-cester. " But it is not always safe to mimic
people to their face. Tliere are some who
mio-ht resent it, thou oh I am not one of
them."

" I hope you Avill not ]>ear me malice,

EDWARD THE FOURTH. 25

gentle uncle," said the little duke. " They
say you are spiteful ; but I do not believe
it, for 1 have ever found you good-na-
tured."

" And so I am," rejoined Gloucester.
" They who call me spiteful do me great
injustice," he added, glancing at the queen.
" I am as inoffensive as a lap-dog — unless
provoked."

'' And then as savage as a wild boar,"
muttered Malbouche.

" Me thinks my uncle Gloucester is really
angry with me," observed the Duke of
York in a whisper to the queen. " He
saj-s he is not, but the glance of his eye
contradicted his words."

" Best easy, fair son," she rejoined, in the
same tone. " I will make your peace with
him anon. But offend him not again ; for,

26

THE GOLDSMITH'S Vy^IFE.

as I have often before told you, lie is ex-,
tremely malignant."

" He is watching us now, and guesses
what you are saying," whispered the duke.
" Heaven save me from him !"

Among Edward's redeeming qualities was
his love for his children, who were all
warmly attached to him, though the strict
etiquette observed at Court prevented any
strong demonstration of their regard.

As soon as they were aware of his pre-
sence, they all advanced ceremoniously
towards him, attended by their governesses
and tutors, and each made him a profound
obeisance, and another reverence to the
queen.

The king, however, took all his younger
children in his arms, and kissed them affec-
tionately.

EDWARD THE FOURTH. 1J

Little Bridget appeared to be liis favou-
rite, for lie gazed tenderly into her face, as-
lie held her up before him.

" And so you wish to become a nun, my
little darling?" he asked. " What put the
notion in thy head ?"

" Heaven, sire,' she replied, in her childish
voice. "The queen, my mother, has pro-
mised to place me in a convent."

" Only for a time," observed her majesty,

" And I promise to wed thee to a king,
my beloved child," said Edward. " Thou
may'st therefore choose between a palace
and a convent."

" I choose the convent," replied Bridget.

"Then I shall lose thee," observed the
king, with a sigh.

" No, sire ; you will always know where
to find me," she replied. " And I shall

THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

always be able to pray for }'our majesty
and the queen."

" Heaven bless thee, my sweet child !"
exclaimed Edward, kissing her, as he set
her down.

He then turned to the Princess Elizabeth,
who was standing near, and said :

" Ah ! Madame la Dauphine, you will
soon attain the exalted position to which
you are destined. "Within a week you will
set out for Paris, there to seek your hus-
band, the Dauphin. I am in hourly ex-
pectation of a messenger from the Lord
Howard, our ambassador to the Court of
France, and I doubt not I shall receive
from King Louis a satisfactory answer to
my peremptory demand that your mar-
riage with the Daunhin be forthwith so-
lemnised. I will brook no further delay;

EDWARD THE FOURTH. 29

and to prevent any more trifling on his
part, I have given him to understand that
his engagement made with me at Picquigny
must now be fulfilled, or he must prepare
for war."

" I hope this demand may not lead to
a rupture between your majesty and King
Louis," observed the princess, " I should
grieve to be the cause of a war."

" Have no fear," replied Edward. *' I
am obliged to use threats to my good
cousin. But you will see how mild his
answer will be. As I have just said, j^ou
may prepare for your immediate departure
for Paris."

" I am ready to obey your majesty's
command in all things," said the princess.
" But I cannot be liappier at the French
Court than I am here. Possibly I may

3° THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

never see England again, and that thought
makes me feel sad, at times."

" Then do not let it trouble you more,"
said the king. " Be sure the Dauphin will
not prevent you from visiting us, should
you feel so inclined. But you will become
so enamoured of France, that you will have
no desire to quit the country. The French
Court is far more splendid than our own,
and will be far gayer when you are its mis-
tress."

" Wedded to the Dauphin, you will be
quite my equal," said the queen.

" And the king's state of health forbids
all chance of long life, so you will soon be
queen," added Edward.

" I hope the Dauphin will like me," said
the princess.

" Be as good a wife to him as the queen,

EDWARD THE FOURTH. 3 1

your mother, has been to me, and he cannot
fail to be content," said the king.

" I will strive to imitate her, sire," re-
plied the princess.

*' One piece of counsel I will venture to
give you, Madame la Dauphinc," said Glou-
cester. ''Meddle with nothing wdiile Louis
lives. When he is gone, do what you
please."

" Sound advice," cried Edward. " You
cannot be too careful with the jealous old
king."

Just then, the Lord Chamberlain entered
the room with a letter.

" Ha ! the messenger has arrived from
France !" cried Edward.

" This instant, my liege," replied Hast-
ings ; " and he brings this letter from Lord
Howard to your majesty. I trust its con-
tents will please you."

3 2 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

" Have you any doubt ?" said the king,
looking at him,

" I doubt all that comes from King Louis,
sire," replied Hastings.

Edward eagerly broke the seal of the
letter, and as he scanned its contents, those
who watched him — and almost every e3^e
was upon him — could perceive that he was
agitated by suppressed fury.

When he had finished reading the de-
spatch, he crushed it in his hand, and fling-
ing it from him, gave way to a violent
explosion of rage.

" Ah, thou liar and deceiver !" he ex-
claimed. " Perjured and perfidious as thou
art, bitterly shalt thou rue thy treachery !
Never will I rest till I have taken ven-
geance upon thee ; never will I forgive the
outrageous afifront offered me ! I swear it
by my father's head! Within a month I

EDWARD THE FOURTH. 3$

will invade thy territories with an army
doubling in number that which I took with
me before ; and when I have taken thy
kingdom from thee, and made thee and
thy son captive, thou wilt regret that thou
didst not keep faith with me !"

So furious were the king's looks and ges-
tures as he gave utterance to these menac-
ing words, that the royal children retreated
from him in terror, and at a sign from the
queen were hurried out of the room by
their governesses and tutors.

Only the Prince of Wales and the Princess
Elizabeth were left, and they looked fright-
ened.

No one ventured to address the infuriated
monarch till this access of rage had passed
by; but when he grew somewhat calmer,
the queen said to him :

VOL. in. D

34 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

" I comprehend that Louis has broken
his engagement ; but what hath hap-
pened ?"

"Madame," replied Edward, "it pains
me to the heart to tell you, but I cannot
withhold the fact, that our beloved daughter,
who has so long borne the title of Dauphine
of France, has been outrageously rejected
by the double-dealer, Louis. Yes, my sweet
love, 'tis even so," he added to the princess.
" Thou, the fairest and best born princess
in Europe, hast been shamefully slighted
by him."

" In what manner, my liege ?" she in-
quired.

" Lord Howard's letter, which I have
just cast from me," replied the king, " in-
forms me that, three days ago, the Dauphin
was betrothed at Amboise to Margaret of

EDWARD THE FOURTH.

Austria, daughter of the Duke Maximilian,
in the presence of a large crowd of
nobles."

" Is my brilliant dream thus ended ?"
cried the princess, unable to repress her
emotion.

'•Take comfort, my sweet child," cried
the queen, tenderly embracing her. '• The
king, your father, will make another match
for you, better than the one broken oif."

" That cannot be," said the princess.

" I promise you shall be a queen," said
Edward. " But my j&rst step shall be to
punish the offender. I will immediately
return to Westminster, and summon the
whole of the nobles, and tell them I have
resolved to declare war against the per-
fidious Louis, to avenge the affront offered
to us, to them, and the whole king-
D 2

^^^6 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

dom, in the person of our dearly beloved
dauo'liter."

" Every voice will be with you, my liege,"
said Hastings. "Every sword will be drawn
for tlie princess,"

" I pray your mnjesty to take me with
you to France," said the Prince of Wales,
kneelina; to the kino:. " 1 will show the
Dauphin that he shall not aifront my
sister !"

" You shall go," replied Edward. " I am
wrell pleased with the request."

" You may become as renowned as the
first Prince of Wales, gentle nephew," said
^Gloucester. " If his majesty will trust you
to my charge, and the campaign lasts long
enough, I will teach jo\x the art of war.
I trust, my liege, there will be no more
.treaties.

EDWARD THE FOURTH. 2)7':

" Not with Louis," rejoined tlie king^
sternly. "He shall not delude me again.
If I sign a peace, it shall be at Paris, and I
will dictate ray own terms. Come, madame,''
he added, taking the queen's hand to lead
her forth. " Let us to Westminster. This
is a bitter disappointment to us both, but
the wrong done shall be requited a hundred-
fold."

" Sister," said the Prince of Wales to the
princess, - as they followed the royal pair
out of the room, " my resolution is taken.
Either I will slay the Dauphin, or the
Dauphin shall slay me."

"I would not check your valour," she
replied, smiling through her tears ; " but itr
is Louis who is in fault, not the Dauphin."

" Then I will slay Louis !" rejoined the-
prince.

3 8 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

V.

WHAT PASSED IN THE KING S ANTE-CHAMBEK, AND OF THE
SECRET INSTRUCTIONS GIVEN BY GLOUCESTER TO CATESBY.

Edwaed acted with unwonted energy.

On the day after his return to Westmin-
ster, he summoned all his nobles, and
acquainting them with the galling affront
he had received, announced his intention of
at once declaring war against Louis. At
the same time, he did not neglect to refer
to his own pretensions to the throne of
France, but stated emphatically that he was
now determined to assert them.

EDWARD THE FOURTH. 39

The address was responded to with en-
thusiasm. All the peers present expressed
the greatest indignation at the ill-faith and
duplicity of Louis, pronounced the war just
and necessary, and raising their hands with
one accord, vowed to lay down their lives
in his majesty's service.

The Lord Mayor and the citizens, who
were next summoned, were equally enthu-
siastic, and undertook to raise all the money
required.

Moreover, the ^proclamation of a war
with France, which immediately followed,
caused great satisfaction throughout the
kingdom. Thus Edward had every prospect
of obtaining the vengeance he desired.

In return for the hearty support the king
had experienced, he gave a series of grand
banquets ; and he indulged so freely at

40 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

these entertainments, that his health mani-
festly suffered.

The change in his appearance was so per-
ceptible, that those who loved him became
greatly alarmed ; while the few who desired
his death, from ambitious or other motives,
began to think that the crisis was at hand.
Among the latter was Gloucester. In his
dark breast fresh hopes were kindled by his
royal brother's recklessness.

On the morning after one of these grand
banquets, at which the king had sat longer
than usual, and drank more deeply, several
nobles and other important personages were
assembled in the ante-room communicating
with his majesty's bed-chamber.

Though the hour was somewhat late Ed-
ward had not yet risen, and some curiosity,
not unmingled with uneasiness, was exhi-

ED WARD THE FO UR TH. 4 '

bitecl to learn how his majesty had passed
the night. The only person allowed en-
trance to the royal chamber was the Mar-
quis of Dorset, the queen's son by her first
marriage. Dorset was Constable of the
Tower, and keeper of the king's treasures.
The young noble had not yet reappeared.

At length the door opened, and Dorset
came forth, looking very grave. In reply
to the anxious inquiries addressed to him,
he simply said, " His majesty has passed a
bad night, and will not be disturbed."

Among the distinguished j^ersonages in
the ante-room were the Duke of Buckino;-
ham and the Lords Hastings and Stanley ;
and as they were special favourites of the
king, and generally admitted to his pre-
sence at all times, they naturally concluded
that they could now go in ; but the Afar-

42 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

quis of Dorset, noticing their design, stopped
them, and said :

" My lords, the king must not be dis-
turbed."

" How is this, my lord ?" cried Hastings.
" Is his majesty unwell? 'Tis the first time
I have been excluded from his chamber ! I
^\i\\ go in !"

"And so will I !" said Buckingham.

"Do as you please, my lords," observed
Dorset. " I have repeated his majesty's in-
junctions."

And, bowing haughtily, he moved on
through the ante-chamber.

A strong feeling of animosit}^, as we have
already mentioned, existed between the old
nobility and the queen's family, of whom
Lord Rivers and the Marquis of Dorset
were the head. Hastings and the others

EDWARD THE FOURTH. 43

were, therefore, highl}^ displeased that
Dorset should be preferred to them, but
they hesitated to disobey the king's express
commands.

" If aught happens, that presumptuous
upstart's pride shall be lowered!" said
Buckingham. " 'Tis 'my belief he has kept
us from seeing his majesty. I hope nothing
ails the king."

"Nothing more than a sick headache,
caused ])y last night's excess," said Hastings.
" But Dorset would have us believe that his
majesty is really ill."

" And so he is," observed Lord Stanley.
" Most assuredly, if he continues in this
mad course, he will kill himself."

" He will never be able to conduct the
war with France in person," said Hastings.

" No ; he must relinquish the command

44 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

of the army to Gloucester," said Bucking-
ham ; " and that will mortify his majesty
greatly. He counted upon entering Paris
in triumph."

" His absence will be a great gain to
Louis, and render the issue of the contest
doubtful," said Lord Stanley. '"Tis almost
to be regretted now that the war has been
undertaken."

Just then the Duke of Gloucester en-
tered the ante-chamber, attended by Catesby.
He directed his steps towards the three
nobles, who advanced to salute him.

" Is not the kino- visible ?" he asked.

o

" No one has seen him but Dorset," re-
plied Hastings. "But your highness can
go in, if you list."

"Is he ill? Is Doctor Lewis Avith him?"
said Gloucester, quickl}-. "If so, I will see
him."

EDWARD THE FOURTH. 45

"His majesty, I trow, will be well enough
to join the banquet this evening, and drink
more wine of Chalosse," observed Bucking-
ham, significantly.

" Ha ! is that all?" cried Gloucester.

" Your highness should dissuade him
from his fatal course," said Hastings. "If
he persists in it, there can but be one
result."

" I dissuade him !" cried Gloucester. " I
have no influence with him, as you wot
well. Get Mistress Shore to advise him.
She might check him in his baneful habit.
None else can. I am sorry not to see the
kino; — hut it matters not. He mioht not be
in the humour to talk to me. I am about
to set out to York, as I have some matters
to arrange there fur his majesty, before we
start for France."

Then, taking Buckingham's arm, hewhis-

4^ THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

pered in his ear, " Should aught happen
— you understand — should aught happen,
I say, send an express to me at York."

" Without an instant's delay," replied the
duke.

" Enough," replied Gloucester. Then,
turning to the others, he said aloud, " Fare-
well, my lords ! Tell the king I have been
here, but would not disturb him. I will
write to his majesty from York."

With this he moved off, bowing haughtily
to the throng of nobles, as he passed through
their midst.

Near the door the room was clear, and
halting there, he said to Catesby, by Avhom
he was still attended, " Remain here.
Attend the banquet to-night, and write
me word how his majesty looks. Dost
heed ?"

EDWARD THE FOURTH. 47"

Catesby bowed assent, and the duke
added, in a low and deeply-significant voice,
" The work thou hast to do must be no
longer delayed. Thou hast the phial I gave
thee?"

" I carry it ever about me," your high-
ness," repeated the other.

" Use it to-night," said Gloucester. " Use
it cautiously, as I bade thee. A few drops
will suffice. The kin 2; drinks nothins; but
wine of Chalosse. Hand him the cup."

Catesby bowed, and the duke quitted the
ante-chamber.

48 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

VI.

HO-^ THE TVAEKANT TOR TEN THOUSAXD GOLDEN CROWNS
BY THE KING TO JANE BISAPPEAKED.

Edwaed declined to hold any audience
that morning on the plea of slight indis-
position ; but as soon as he had completed
his toilette, which occupied him some time
• — for, as already stated, he was extraordi-
narily particular about his dress — he re-
j^aired to Jane's apartments, which were
situated in a wing of the palace, over-
looking the gardens and the river, splen-
didly furnished, and hung with the finest
arras.

EDWARD THE FOURTH. 49/

The fair mistress of these magnificent
rooms received him almost ceremoniously^,
as Avas her wont; but he looked so exr
hausted, that she took his hand, and led
liim to a fauteuil, into which he immediately
sank.

Seeing his exhausted condition, shs
caused some refreshments to be brought^
and poured him out a cup of hippocraa
with her own hand. He only ate a few
conserves and cates, but the cordial beverage
revived him.

At a sign from his majesty, all the
attendants withdrew, and they were left
alone together.

" I must have done with these banquets^
Jane," said the king- " Were it not that L
liave invited the Lord Mayor and the chief
citizens of London to dine with me to-day _^

VOL. III. E

5° THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

I would forswear revelry altogether. But
I cannot disappoint my worthy friends at
this juncture. However, to-day's banquet
shall be the last. On that I am firmly
resolved."

" I have little reliance on your good reso-
lutions, sire," said Jane. " Formed in the
morning, they are constantly broken in the
evening."

" In sooth, I find it difficult to refrain,"
said Edward. " This hi,ppocras is very good.
Fill my cup again."

Jane shook her head, and said, playfully,
" Your majesty is in my hands now, and I
shall take care of you. If I could wait
upon you at the banquet this evening, you
should not exceed."

" You shall be my cup-bearer, if you list,"
replied Edward, smiling.

EDWARD THE FOURTH. 51

" I take you at your word, my liege, and
accept the office," she rejoined. " I have
still the costume I wore in France."

"Then don it to-night," said the king.
" Be Isidore again, and place yourself
behind my chair. When you bid me hold,
I will drink no more."

" Oh ! my liege," she exclaimed, " do but
act up to the wise resolve you have just
formed, and far greater power will be yours
than you have ever yet enjoyed. No
monarch in Europe is so proudly placed as
you are noAv. Your throne is secured.
Your subjects idolise you. Your enemies
fear you. You have sons to succeed you —
daughters contracted to princes. All that
a great king can achieve you have accom-
])lislied. You ]iave fought many battles,
and have never been defeated ; nor will

5 2 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

you ever be defeated in the field. But you
have an enemy more to be dreaded than
your stoutest adversary — more than Louis
himself. That enemy is here," she added,
holding up the goblet. " If you conquer
not this mortal foe, he will conquer you.
'Tis right you should hear the truth from
me, and, however painful it may be to
speak it, I cannot remain silent. Already
those who hope to profit by your death
have noted the change, and laid their
plans. The ambitious and designing Glou-
cester, against whom I have repeatedly
warned your majesty, has Avatched you
narrowly."

" Gloucester has set out for York this
very morn," remarked Edward.

" I am glad of it," she replied. " But
he has left many friends behind, in whom
your majesty places confidence. Their

EDWARD THE FOURTH. S^

schemes, however, will prove futile if you
are true to yourself. Be the great Edward
whom I (jrst loved, whom I still love, and
shall ever love; but who will sacrifice
power, life, and love, if he shakes not oif
the fetters in which he is bound."

For some moments the king seemed
buried in thought. At last he raised his
head, and looking earnestly at her, said:

" You have touched me deeply, Jane.
To-morrow I will wholly refrain from the
maddening potion."

" Why not to-night, sire ?" she cried.
" Oh, be persuaded by me !"

" A revel, more or less, cannot affect me
seriously,"

" Consult 3'our physician. Doctor Lewis,
sire. He will tell you differently."

" You know I eschew physic, and never
take advice from Doctor Lewis," replied the

54 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

king. " Surely, 'tis enough that you will
be present to stint me in my cups ! Were
Alice Fordham here, she might attend you
as Claude. What has become of her ?"

" She has returned to her husband, my
liege ; and the gifts I have bestowed upon
her have made her welcome to him. But
she has deceived me — basely deceived me —
and I no longer love her."

" In what manner has she deceived
you?" inquired the king. "I am aware
you have dismissed her, but I know not
her fault."

" I discovered that she has taken bribes
from the Duke of Gloucester, sire," replied
Jane. " I did not mention the matter to
your majesty, because I thought it would
anger you."

" Again Gloucester !" exclaimed the king.
" He seems to be plotting everywhere."

EDIVARD THE FOURTH. SS

" Since he could not induce me to take
part in his schemes, sire, he tried Alice
Fordham," replied Jane; ''and with her
he succeeded."

" Ha ! this must be inquired into !" cried
Edward, fiercely. " 'Tis well for himself
that he hath gone to York, or I would have
sent him at once io the Tower. But 1 will
have hiui back ; and if I find him guilty,

he shall But no. no !" he added, with

a sudden change of manner, and speaking
in a hollow voice ; "I must not have a
second brother's blood upon my soul ! I
have had no peace since Clarence died."

" But Gloucester wrested the warrant for
his brother s death from your majesty," said
Jane. " His, therefore, is the guilt. I urge
no severe measures against Gloucester, but
my love for your majesty bids me say, ' Be-
ware of him !' "

'.56 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

In the hope of chasing away the king's
gloom, Jane took up her lute, and sang a
•tender romance of which he had once been
very fond. He listened as if entranced.
The notes vibrated through his breast, and
recalled the days when he had first heard
llie song.

When she ceased singing, he said, " Do
you recollect, Jane, that it was on this very
• day — now seven years ago — that I first
beheld you?"

" I recollect it well, sire," she replied,
with something like a sigh. " The past
seems like a dream to me."

"A happy dream, I hope?" he said.

" Too happy, sire," she rejoined. " Mo-
ments of sadness have occurred, but they
have soon passed. 'Tis the wakening from
-^his long, blissful dream that I dread. I

EDWARD THE FOURTH. S7

would fain slumber on to the end. Oh, if I
were to lose your majesty, what would
become of me?"

" You will be wealthy, Jane," he re-
joined.

" But I shall have lost all I care for — all
1 love !" she exclaimed. " Wealth will be
nothing to me. I have not loved your
majesty for the many rich gifts you have
bestowed upon me, but for yourself."

" There is nothing mercenary in }'our
disposition, Jane ; that I well know," he
replied. " Moreover, I am quite aware you
have given away large sums ; so that you
may not, after all, be so rich as you ought
to be "

" Sire," she interrupted, " I have enough.
I want nothino;."

" But you may want more than you

58 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

have," cried Edward. " I may be snatched
from you suddenly. 'Tis my business to
provide for you, and I will do so at once.
Here is an order on the Marquis of Dorset,
tlie keeper of ni}^ treasures, already signed
and sealed," he added, taking a paper from
the richly-ornamented gipciere that hung
from his girdle. " Fill in the name, and
the amount — ten thousand golden crowms."

" Sire, 'tis too much !" she cried.

" Obey my behest," he said.

Unable to refuse, she proceeded to a
table, on which writing materials were
placed, and wrote as the king had com-
manded her.

While she was thus occupied, Edward
arose ; and as soon as she had finished,
he took the paper from her and ex-
amined it."

EDWARD THE FOURTH. S9

" This sum will be paid you by Dorset,"
lie said, as he gave her back the v/arrant.
" 'Tis meant as a provision for you in the
event of my death ; and I trust you will
not yield to the too-generous impulses of
your nature, and by giving a portion of it
away, defeat my object. Keep it for your-
self, I pray you. You may need it."

Jane could make no reply, for emotion
stopped her. After a vain effort to speak,
she fell into his arms, and shed tears upon
his breast.

The scene just described was witnessed
by an unseen observer.

A secret door behind the hangings, of the
existence of which both the king and Jane
were ignorant, had been noiselessly opened,
and the person who passed through it
slightly raised the arras, and could there-
fore see and hear what took place.

THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

After a while, Jane recovered from her
emotion, and, as she looked up with stream-
ing eyes at the king, he bent down and
kissed her brow.

" Adieu, ma mie /" he said. " You will
attend upon me at the banquet to-night ?"

'' Doubt it not, sire," she replied. " Oh,
that I could banish these misgivings from
my breast !"

He smiled to reassure her, but somewhat
sadly ; for he was not altogether free from
misgivino; himself.

They paused for a moment at the door
before the kin 2; went forth, and she watched
his stately figure as he moved slowly along
the corridor, attended by a couple of pages.
Often had she thus watched him ; but she
never beheld him take that walk again.

In her agitation, Jane had dropped the

EDWARD THE FOURTH.

6l

warrant given her by the king, nor did slie
think about it till his majesty had disap-
peared. She then looked about for it ; but
it was 2;one.

Astonished and alarmed by the circum-
stance, she summoned an attendant, but
could ascertain nothing satisfactory. No
one had entered the room. Careful search
was made, but the warrant could not be
' found.

As will have been surmised, it had fallen
into the hands of the person concealed be-
hind the hano;in2;s.

While the king and Jane stood together
near the door, completely occupied with
each other, this individual, who was very
slightly built, and habited like a page,
crept cautiously forth, took up the paper,
and regained the hiding-place without being
noticed.

62 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

On discovering her loss, Jane was in a
state of distraction. Her first impulse was
to acquaint the king with what had hap-
pened; but, on consideration, she resolved
to defer all mention of the circumstance
till the morrow.

EDWARD THE FOURTH. ^T,

yii.

OF Edward's list banquet, and how it ended.

In the great banqueting-hall of the palace,
in the centre of the high table, placed at
the upper part of the hall, beneath a gor-
geous cloth of estate, embroidered in gold,
with the royal badges of the falcon and
fetterlock, the rose and sun, and the white
hart, sat Edward.

Reserved for the kin2; and his most dis-
tinguished guests, this elevated table was
covered with perfumed damask, wrought
with flowers and figures, and furnished

64 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

with magnificent vessels of gold and
silver.

Two other long tables, covered with finest
cloths of diaper, and resplendent with plate,
ran down the sides of the hall, so as to
leave a great space free to the innumerable
officers and attendants, cup-bearers, carvers,
sewers, and gentlemen waiters, all in the
royal livery.

At these lower tables sat tlie citizens and
the general company — the Lord Mayor,
who was no other than our old acquaint-
ance, Randal Rubicel, the haberdasher,
being assigned a place with the nobles.

Trumpeters, with clarions adorned with
frinj^ed cloth of 2:old, stood in the centre of
the hall, and minstrels were placed in a
gallery, to enliven the company with their
strains during the repast.

EDli^ARD 'THE FOURTH. 6^

The entertainment was conducted with
regal state. At tlie lower tables all were
seated ; but when the trumpets announced
the entrance of the king, the guests imme-
diately arose.

Edward was marshalled to his seat, be-
neath the cloth of estate, by iim Lord
Chamberlain and the Vice- Chamberlain,
each carrj'ing a white staff. He was
attended by several officers in embroidered
velvet doublets, all of whom had chains of
gold round the neck. Among these was
Catesby.

"When the king was seated, Isidore, who
was attired in precisely the same dress he
had worn in France, took his place behind
the royal chair. The handsome cup-bearer
looked remarkably w^ell, and excited general
admiration.

VOL, III. F

66 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

Edward was magnificently arrayed, as
usual. Over the richly embroidered satin
doublet that encased his now portly person,
he wore a purple robe, with long hanging
sleeves, lined with the most precious furs.

On his right and left sat the Duke of
Buckingham, the Earl of Northumberland,
the Earl of Hastings, the Marquis of Dorset,
and other nobles, all splendidly attired.
The Lord Mayor was placed between Buck-
ingham and Hastings, and being clad in his
robes, and having the collar of S.S. round
his neck, presented a very imposing ap-
pearance. Strangely altered was Randal
Rubicel, and scarcely recognisable as the
gallant young haberdasher of former days.
He had been highly prosperous in his call-
ing, and had grown enormously corpulent
as well as rich. His features, however,

EDWARD THE FOURTH. 67

were not so iniicli changed as his person,
and he was still good-looking. He was de-
voted to the king, and had lent his majesty
a large sum for the proposed war with
France.

Illumined by great candles, almost as
thick as torches, and made of perfumed
wax, covered with silver vessels, and occu-
pied by the goodly company described, the
tables looked magnificent. As we have
intimated, the body of the hall was thronged
with the various officers belonginff to the
royal household ; and through this crowd —
just before the second service began —
marched a score of yeomen of the kitchen,
bearing great dishes, preceded by the
master cook, a very stately personage, clad
in damask velvet, with a chain of gold
round his neck, and bearing a white wand.
F 2

68 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

Trumpets were blown as these dishes were
set upon the table, and the minstrels played
while the contents of the dishes were dis-
cussed.

Great hilarity prevailed, for though Ed-
ward had resolved to practise unwonted
moderation that day, his guests had every
Temptation to exceed, for the wines were
abundant and as excellent as the viands,
and served in flowing goblets.

According to the taste of the period,
many curious and admirably executed de-
vices, representing the king's palaces, tour-
naments, and even the meeting between Ed-
ward and Louis at Picquigny, were placed
-upon the table. These pretty receptacles
•were filled with confectionery, comfits,
cakes, and spices, which were served to those
who cared to taste them.

EDWARD THE FOURTH. 69

Altogether, the banquet, destined to be
his last, Avas one of the best ever given by
the luxurious monarch ; and from circum-
stance-s connected with it. wliich we shall
presently relate, it was long afterwards re-
membered.

As the repast proceeded, Edward re-
covered his spirits, and felt so much better,
and in such a mood for enjoyment, that it
was with difficulty he could put a constraint
upon himself. But though he did not en-
tirely refrain, he was far more temperate
than usual.

As Isidore came forward with a silver
flagon to fill his cup, he remarked, in a lovr
voice :

"Dost thou not recognise thy former
suitor ? He is seated on the right, next to
the Duke of Buckins^ham."

yo THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

"Why, that is the Lord Mayor, my
liege !" exclaimed Isidore.
■ "Marry, the Lord Mayor was once thy
suitor !" observed Edward, laughing. " Look
at him again !"

"As I live, 'tis Randal Rubicel!" ex-
claimed Isidore.

" 'Tis not surprising you knew him not
at first, since he has waxed so wondrous
fat," said Edward. *' I need not say he is
no longer a bachelor, for there is a lady
mayoress ; but he is a most worthy and
liberal man, and I have a great regard for
him. The Lord Mayor, however, is not the
only one of your former suitors here pre-
sent. All the others have been invited by
my command. You Avill descry them at
the lower tables."

Stepping back, Isidore looked around,

EDWARD THE FOURTH. 71

and soon discovered that the king was not
jesting.

Yes ! there they all were. There sat
Simon Muttlebury, the grocer ; Puncheon,
the vintner ; Serge, the cloth -worker ;
Buckram, the mercer ; Hide, the skinner,
and half" a dozen others, whose features
Isidore well remembered, though, like
Randal Rubicel, they were all much
changed. Most of them had grown stout,
and all had the easy, comfortable look of
married men.

But where was Shore ? Was he present
on this grand festive occasion ? Not as a
guest, but he might have come thither un-
invited.

So Jane thought ; and as her eye wan-
dered over the crowd in the body of the
hall, it alighted upon Father Sylvius.

72 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

Joyously the feast went on. Fresh dishes
Avere broii^'ht in. The sewers and carvers
did their devoir. Again and again, the
goblets were replenished by the cup-bearers,
and with the choicest wines. The minstrels
played their liveliest strains. Laughter,
scarcely subdued by the king's presence, re-
sounded from the lower tables.

Yet despite the hilarity and enjoyment
everywhere prevailing, Edward became sad.
Sombre thoughts crossed him. With the
sounds of revelry ringing in his ears — with
the spectacle before him of that grand
banquet and his joyous guests — he felt as if
he could take no part in the general con-
viviality.

A warning voice, whose low accents were
audible amid all the din, seemed to whisper
that he had not lonnr to live. He did not

EDWARD THE FOURTH. 'J T,

dare to raise his eyes, lest lie should read in
characters of fire that his kingdom would
be taken from him. But he almost fancied
the terrible writing was there.

Like Jane, he had descried Father Syl-
vius amid the crowd in the hall, and the
unlooked-for and unseasonable appearance
of the friar awakened a train of gloomy
thought, that quickly deepened, as we have
described. A mortal sickness seized the
king, and he felt he could not shake it off;
but, unwilling to alarm the company, he
called for wine, hoping a good draught
might restore him.

His accents startled Jane, who now for
the first time remarked the deathly pallor
that had bespread his features. She would
have instantly obeyed the command, but
the flagon she held was well-nigh empty.

74 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

At this moment, Catesby interposed. The
opportunity he sought to execute his direful
purpose had now arrived. It came suddenly,
but he was prepared.

" Here is a goblet of his majesty's fa-
vourite wine of Chalosse," he said.

" Give it me!" cried Jane, almost snatch-
ing the cup from him in her anxiety to
serve the king.

"Here is that which will revive you,
sire," she said, as she handed him the
cup.

Edward drank deeply of the poisoned
draught ; and as Catesby watched him, he
saw that the work was done.

For a few minutes the doomed monarch
felt better, and those nearest hira, wlio
shared Jane's anxiety, thought he had
rallied.

But the signs of improvement were fal-

EDWARD THE FOURTH. "J S

lucious, and, in realit}", he was much Avorse.
His pale cheek fiiishecl, and his eye blazed,
but it was Avith an unnatural lustre. He
attempted to converse, but his speech was
thick, and his voice hoarse, as if from in-
toxication. Indeed, Buckingham and Has-
tings, who were well aware of his intem-
perate habits, attributed his condition to
excess.

But Jane knew otherwise. Being close
to him, she whispered in his ear :

" You are unwell, sire — very unwell I I
pray you retire from the banquet."

Feeling the advice was good, Edward
immediately endeavoured to comply with it.

As he arose from his seat — not without
great difficulty — the nobles on either side
of him rose likewise, and at this sight the
utmost consternation prevailed among the
assemblage.

7 6 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

The din of revelry instantly ceased, wine-
cups raised to the lips were set down un-
tasted, and the strains of the minstrels were
hushed.

But the alarm was only momentary, the
company being quickly reassured by the
Duke of Buckingham, who, by Edward's
command, called out :

" His majesty is compelled, by slight in-
disposition, to Avithdraw from the banquet ;
but it is his royal pleasure that no inter-
ruption take place in it. The king hopes to
return before the close of the feast. Mean-
while, he drinks to you all."

At this announcement, the whole assem-
blage arose, and bowing around, the king
drained the fatal cup.

Amid the murmurs of applause that fol-
lowed, Edward retired, leaning on Jane's

EDJVJRD THE FOURTH. 77

shoulder, and attended by Hastings and
half a dozen pages, and proceeded slowly to-
wards his own apartments.

The banquet went on as merrily as before
the interruption, but the king did not
return.

After an hour or so, gentlemen ushers
went round the tables, and, with grave
looks, informed the guests that his majesty
was seriously ill. Thereupon, the assem-
blage immediately dispersed.

Great confusion ensued, but while the
guests were departing. Father Sylvius found
his way to the corridor, and without being
questioned, proceeded along it to the king's
private apartments.

78 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

VIII.

"WHAT OCCUUHED AT THE KIXG's DEATII-BED.

In a magnificent chamber of the palace,
hung with finest arras, and lighted by a dim
lamp, in a state bed, with tester and ceiler
of cloth of gold, having heavy embroidered
curtains, and a counterpane furred with
ermine, propped up by pillows, lay the
royal Edward.

Immediately after the king's seizure at
the banquet, Jane had laid aside her dis-
guise, and assumed her own attire, and was

EDWJRD THE FOURTH. 79

now watching by the slumbering monarch's
couch.

On his removal to the chamber where wc
find him, Edward had been seized by vio-
lent sickness, after which he seemed some-
what better, and showed a strong disposi-
tion to sleep. Doctor Lewis, his physician^
regarded this as a good sign, and declared,
if he slept well throughout the night, he
mioht recover — otherwise he would never
rise from his couch.

Before resigning himself to sleep, the
king expressly enjoined that Mistress Shorc^
and no other, should watch by his couch,
and the command was strictly obeyed.

Every precaution being taken to insure
quiet, Edward slept throughout the greater
part of the night, not calmly, but heavily,
wliile the groans that occasionally broke

THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

from him showed he was troubled by
painful dreams. So distressing were these
sounds to hear, that Jane almost felt in-
clined to disobey the physician's orders, and
wake him.

It was now the third hour of morn, and
Jane was still anxiously watching by the
couch — sometimes kneeling and praying for
the royal sufferer.

Sad thoughts passed through her breast
during this long, painful vigil. The end of
her happiness seemed come, for she could
not persuade herself that the king would
recover. Indeed, as she gazed at him, she
felt sure he could not live long.

While thus alternately watching and
praying, she heard the door softly open,
and Doctor Lewis came noiselessly in.

A man of middle a^e, with a grave cast
of countenance, rendered graver than usual

EDn^ARD THE FOURTH.

by the present circumstances, the physician
had a somewhat spare figure, and was
clothed in a long, dark gown, edged with
fur, above which he wore a furred cape.
His long locks were covered by a black
velvet skull-cap.

Stopping in the middle of the apartment,,
he signed Jane to come to him, and a few-
whispered words passed between them.

" Has my royal patient slept throughout
the night?" inquired Doctor Lewis.

" Uninterruptedly, as you see him now,."'
replied Jane.

" That is w^ell !" said the phj'sician. " Let
him sleep on. When he avrakens, I shall l)c
able to decide."

With this, he stepped towards the couch,
a: id gazed for some minutes on the slum-
berina; monarch.

VOL. Til. G

8 1 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

Apparently, the inspection satisfied him ;
for he gave Jane a reassuring look, and
quitted the room.

Overcome by fatigue and anxiety, Jane
soon afterwards fell into a sort of doze,
from which she was aroused by a slight
touch on the shoulder, and looking up, she
perceived Father Sylvius standing beside
her.

" You here ! — and at this moment !" she
exclaimed, in a low voice, so as not to dis-
turb the king, whose heavy breathing could
be distinctly heard.

" 'Tis the very moment wdien I might be
expected," rejoined Father Sylvius. " I
must speak to the king."

"You shall not approach his couch !" she
cried, placing herself between him and the
sleeping monarch.

EDWARD THE FOURTH. 83

" Stand aside, woman !" cried the friar,
authoritatively.

Unable to disobey the injunction, she re-
treated in terror to the side of the room.

Advancing to the couch, Father Sylvius
laid his hand on Edward's shoulder.

For a moment, the king did not stir ; but
at length he opened his eyes, and fixed them
upon the intruder,

" Who art thou ?" demanded Edward.

" Dost thou not know me ?" rejoined the
monk.

And throwing back his hood, he disclosed
ii well-remembered face.

" 'Tis Alban Shore !" said the king.

"Ay; 'tis that much-injured man," re-
joined the friar.

" I confess I have wronged thee," said
Edward, feebly ; " but I will make amends."
G 2

THE GOLDSMITH'S JVIFE.

" Thou canst not make me amends," re-
joined Shore. " As David took Bath-Sheba,
the wife of Urijah, the Hittite, so thou hast
taken my wife from me."

Edward answered with a groan.

" I Avould thou hadst slain me with the
sword, as David slew Urijah," pursued
Shore ; " then had I been spared many
years of misery ! Hearken to me, oh, king !
In this dread hour, when thy life is drawing
to a close, and when nought can save thee,
thou repentest thee of the great wrong thou
hast done ; but thy repentance comes too
late."

" No ; not too late !" murmured Jane.
" Heaven is always merciful !"

"Who spoke?" said Edward.

" She whom thou hast destroyed," replied
Shore. " But neither she nor thou art
penitent, and. both shall perish !"

EDfi^ARD THE FOURTH. 83

" Say what thou wilt to me," cried Jane,
"but torment not the king!"

"Back, woman!" exclaimed Shore,
fiercely. " Thy place is no longer here.
Thy days of sinful pleasure are over.
Henceforth thou wilt be shunned; for the
arm that has shielded thee will soon be
powerless, and those who praised thee Avill
revile thee. Vainly wilt thou flee. Thou
canst not escape from the punishment that
awaits thee. A curse will cling to thee, and
hold thee fast !"

Half stunned, Jane looked at him in
terror, but could not speak.

" Call the guard !" groaned EdAvard.

" Ay ; call the guard !" said Shore.
" Complete thy work, and cause me to be
put to death. I care not. I have had
my revenge."

"As thou dost hope for mercy thy-

S6 THE GOLDSMITH'S IVIFE.

self, show some mercy to me !" implored
Jane.

"My lieai*t is adamant," rejoined Shore.
" There is pity in it neither for thee nor for
the king."

"Oh," exclaimed Jane, "this is too
much !"

And she sank down insensible at the foot
of the couch.

"Wretch! thou hast killed her!" cried
Edward.

" No ; she will revive presently," said
Shore. " But it were better for her that
she died now than hereafter. She will
have to drain the cup of misery to the
dregs."

" How know'st thou this, thou prophet of
evil ?" said the king.

" How do I know it?" cried Shore. " Be-

EDJVJRD THE FOURTH. 87

cause I have prayed that it may be so, and
my prayer Avill be granted ! She whom
thou hast fed with the choicest viands, and
clothed with the richest attire, will die of
starvation, and almost without raiment ! A
ban will be upon her ! No one will aid
her ! — all will shun her ! Thus will the
great king's favourite perish !"

"At least, thou shalt perish before her!"
cried Edward.

And raising himself with great difficulty,
he called out, " Without there ! Hoh !"

The effort was too much, and he fell back
on the pillows.

88 T}IE GOLDSMITH'S TVIFE.

IX.

THE KIN'G S LAST GIFTS TO JANE.

In answer to the king s summoDs, Doctor
Lewis, accompainod by half a dozen pages,
rushed into the room.

"What would your majesty?" cried the
physician.

" Seize on that friar !" said Edward. " De-
liver him to the guard."

" No friar is here, my liege," replied the
physician, thinking the king was delirious.

" Can he have vanished ?"- cried Edward,

EDIFARD THE FOURTH. 89

gazing round, and unable to discern his tor-
mentor.

" No one has entered the rooni, my liege,
or gone forth — of that I am certain," said
the physician. " I have been in the ante-
chamber throu2;hout the nisrht."

" It must have been the fiend in person,"
said Edward.

" Doubtless your majesty has been trou-
bled by a dream," said the physician, con-
firmed in his notion that the king was
light-headed.

"It may be so," said Edward. "Ha!
here is the proof that it was real," point-
ing to Jane, who had been partly concealed
by the hangings of the bed. " Get restora-
tiyes quickly."

" I have all that is needful with mc, sire,"
replied Doctor Lewis.

90 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

And kneeling down beside Jane, lie raised
her head, and allowing her to breathe at a
smelling - bottle which he produced, she
quickly regained consciousness. He then
assisted her to a seat.

" Clear the room," said Edward, in a low
voice, to Doctor Lewis. " I have something
to say to you."

And at a sign from the physician, all the
pages went forth.

" Shall I go likewise, sire ?" said Jane.

" jSTo," replied Edward. " Stay with me
a little longer."

It was a dread moment.

The physician's hand was upon the king's
pulse. His eye was upon the king's coun-
tenance.

Jane watched him with intense anxiety,
but she could read nothing in his impassive
features.

EDWARD THE FOURTH. 9 I

At length the examination was over, and
the king, Avho had remained perfectly calm,
said to the physician:

" Let me know my fate."

"Sire" replied the physician, gravely, "I
will not attempt to conceal from your ma-
jesty that there is great danger "

" 1 understand," said Edward, seeing that
he hesitated to proceed. " You can give
me no hope ?"

" I would have your majesty prepare for
the worst," said Doctor Lewis, somewhat
evasively.

During the pause that ensued, Jane vainly
endeavoured to stifle her sobs.

The silence was broken by the king.

In a firm voice he said :

" How many hours are left me ? Fear
not to tell me the truth."

" Sire," replied the physician, " unless

92 THE GOLDSMITI-rs WIFE,

some change takes place — of which I de-
spair— you will not see another night."

The tone in which this dread announce-
ment was uttered forbade all hope.

Unable to repress her anguish, Jane
buried her face in her hands, and wept
aloud,

"Leave me for a few minutes," said Ed-
ward to the physician.

" Constrain yourself, I pray you, sire, or
you will abridge the little time left you,"
said Doctor Lewis.

" Jane !" said the king, as soon as they
were alone.

She arose instantly, and stood by his
side.

Taking her hand, and gazing at her with
inexpressible tenderness, Edward said :

"We must now part for ever, sweet-
heart." ^

EDWARD THE FOURTH. 93

" Our separation will not be long, sire,"
she replied. " I shall soon follow you."

" No, sweetheart," he said ; " you must
live. Be constant to my memory — that is
all I ask."

" I cannot live without your majesty,"
she cried, despairingly.

"You have never yet disobeyed me,
Jane," he said; ''and I am well assured
you will not disobey my last injunction.
Indulge not in unavailing sorrow, but think
of the happy hours we have spent together,
and of the love I have ever borne you.
Methinks T have amply provided for you ;
but if you desire aught more, it shall be
yours."

"You have already done too much for
me, sire," she cried.

" 'Tis Avell. I si<2:ned that order on the
Treasury to-day," pursued Edward. " Fail

94 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

not to present it early in the morn to the
Marquis of Dorset, and obtain the money.
After my death some difficulties may be
raised. How is this ? You look embar-
rassed !"

" Sire," she replied, '' I must not conceal
from you that the warrant you gave me is
lost."

" Lost !" exclaimed the king. " Impos-
sible !"

"Your majesty may remember that I
attended you to the door," said Jane.
*' When. I came back the warrant was gone,
and I have not been able to find it since-
But do not let the matter disturb you. I
shall not require the mone}'."

" Jane," cried the king, with a troubled
look, "strange misgivings cross me. My
designs to benefit you seem unaccountably

EDWARD THE FOURTH. 95

thwarted. I see not why the warrant should
be stole]!, save from a mischievous motive,
since it is useless to any other than yourself.
To-morrow, if I live so long, the Lord Trea-
surer shall pay you the money. Meantime,
takes these," he added, giving her a splendid
chain set with diamonds, and some other
ornaments lying on a small table near the
bed. " Take them, I insist," he added,
forcing the articles upon her.

Just then the physician entered the room.

" Never wert thou so unwelcome !" cried
Edward. " Yet, since you have come, bear
witness that I have given these ornaments
to Mistress Shore."

" Bear witness, al^o, that I receive them
most reluctantly," said Jane ; " and only do
so because I would not willingly distress
his majesty."

9 6 THE GOLDSMITH'S mPE.

" I shall not forget what I am told," re-
joined the physician.

" NoAv that the moment for separation has
arrived," cried Jane, " I feel I have left
much unsaid that I ou2;ht to sav to your
majesty. Grant me a few more minutes, I
beseech you, good master physician !"

"Be brief, then, madame, I implore
you," said Doctor Lewis, removing to the
further part of the room, so as to be out of
hearing.

"If it be possible, sire," said Jane, ad-
dressing the king in a low, earnest voice,
"to effect a sincere reconciliation between
Lord Rivers and the Marquis of Dorset,
and the Duke of Buckingham and the
Lord Hastings and Stanley, it might pre-
vent future troubles."

" It shall be done," rejoined Edward.

EDiVARD THE FOURTH. 97

^' Unluckily, Lord Elvers is at Ludlow
Castle with the Prince of AYales, but the
queen will answer for him. I will force
the others to become friends."

" I scarce have courage to make the next
suggestion, but I must not hesitate. Ap-
point tlie queen Regent, during Prince Ed-
ward's minority, sire. She will govern
wisely and well."

'' I doubt it not," rejoined the king.
" But Gloucester must be Lord Protector."

"No, sire !" said Jane. " Let Gloucester
have no authority !"

" You hate him !" said the king.

" I hate him because he is false to your
majesty, and seeks to mount the throne.
Give the queen full power, and she will be
able to guard the prince against his per-
fidious uncle — not otherwise."

VOL. III. H

98 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

"It shall be so," replied Edward. "If
all this can be accomplished, I shall die in
peace ; but I feel my strength is fast failing
me.

Fearing, from his words, that he M'as
sinking, Jane called to the physician, who
Hew to the couch. But the king quickly
rallied.

" You must not remain with me longer,
Jane," he murmured. " Farewell — farewell
for ever."

She felt as if her heart would break ;
but, restraining herself by a powerful effort^
she stooped down, kissed him, and quitted
the room.

How she regained her own apartments
she knew not, for she seemed to be in a
state of stupefaction.

Seeing her condition, her female attend-

EDn^ARD THE FOURTH. 99

ants induced her to lie down, and she soon
fell into a profound slumber, from which
she did not waken until mid-day.

Her first inquiries were for the king, and
she learnt the terrible truth from the looks
of her attendants, who vainly strove to con-
ceal it from her.

h2

iOO THE GOLDSMITHS WIFE.

X.

now KING EDWAKD's BODY WAS EXPOSED TO PUBLIC VIEW
ON THE DAY OF HIS DEATH IN WESTMINSTER ABBEY.

On a high catafalque, conspicuously
placed in the centre of the nave at West-
Tninster Abbey, and covered with a black
velvet pall, edged with silver, and embroi-
dered with the royal badges, the falcon and
fetterlock, the rose and sun, and the white
hart, lay the lifeless body of the king, who
had only breathed his last at an early hour
on the same day.

Bared to the waist, the noble-propor-

EDIVARD THE FOURTH. lOl

tioned frame of the deceased monarch
looked as if sculptured in -whitest marble,
and was full of subdued dignity, repose,
grace, and resignation, which gave to his
features a peculiar charm.

Over the lower part of the person w^as
thrown an ample cover of cloth of Silverm-
an d the head rested upon a large pillow of
black satin fringed with silver. Even in
death, the majestic features of the king re-
tained their proud expression and beautiful
outline.

Immense tapers of yellow wax, set in-
tall silver candlesticks, burnt at the corners
of the catafalque. Youthful incense-bearerSy
swinging heavy censers, continually fumed
the bod}^ Dignitaries of the abbey knelt
around, and a solemn requiem was sung by
the choir, while the deep tones of the organ

I02 THE GOLDSMITH'S mF£.

ever and anon pealed along the vaulted
roof.

From pillar to pillar, along the aisles,
and in the transept, magnificent arras Avas
stretched, so that a full view of the royal
body could only be obtained from certain
points indicated by gentlemen ushers pro-
vided with white wands.

Yeomen of the guard were likewise sta-
tioned at the entrance to the choir, and at
the various chapels, to prevent intrusion ;
but the deportment of the crowd was singu-
larly quiet and decorous.

Around the catafalque a clear space was
kept by halberdiers, stationed some two
feet apart, so as not to obstruct the view ;
the tallest and linest men being selected for
the occasion.

Within the circle thus formed, and vrhich

EDWARD THE FOURTH. I03

was strictly guarded by the halberdiers,
who crossed their pikes when needful, seve-
ral distinguished personages were gathered ;
the chief amons; them bein^ Lord Hastino:s,
the Grand Chamberlain, ]:)y whom the
solemn ceremonial was conducted, the Duke
of Buckingham, and Lord Stanley, the
Marquis of Dorset, Lord Gray, and the
queen's cliamberlain. Lord Dacre.

Besides these, there were the Lord Mayor,
the sheriffs, and aldermen, in their full
robes, and several of the important citizens,
who had banqueted recently with Edward
in the adjacent palace.

Another personage was likewise allowed
a place within the circle, although his parti-
coloured garments seemed out of character
with the scene. This was Malbouche. The
jester, whose office was gone, wore a most

104 THE GOLDSMITH'S IVIFE.

rueful countenance, and perhaps no one
among tlie assemblage more sincerely re-
gretted his YoyA master than the poor
knave.

All the nobles just mentioned were mem-
bers of the Council — the Marquis of Dorset
and Lord Gray, the queen's sons by her
first marriage, holding the chief places;
and they had judged it expedient, in con-
sequence of the suddenness of the king's
death, that the body should be exposed in
the manner described — first, to convince
the somewhat incredulous populace that his
majesty was actually dead ; and secondly,
that he had come fairly by his end.

A like course had been pursued with re-
gard to the unfortunate Henry the Sixth,
whose remains were exhibited in Saint
Paul's; but in that case, the murdered

EDWARD THE FOURTH. I05

king was placed in a coffin, and covered
up, so that the face alone could be distin-
guished. Xo requiem was then sang, and
no sympathising spectator was pernntted to
approach the mangled corpse, from which,
it was said, blood burst forth.

On the present occasion every possible
honour was paid to the departed monarch.
Masses were performed, and dirges sung.
Every countenance bespoke sorrow, for
those who entertained other feelings did not
dare to manifest them. If not deeply
mourneci, Edward was sincerely regretted.
Whatever may have been his faidts, he had
won the regard of his subjects, and his
popularity was at its zenith when he Avas
prematurely cut off. Many a tearful glance
was cast at his noble person. Many a prayer
was breathed for the repose of his soul. If

lo6 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

he had been a slave to his passions, and was
sullied by many crimes, he had some re-
deeming cjualities, and these were now re-
membered, and his evil deeds forgotten.
He was thou2:ht of as a brave warrior, and
a mamificent monarch. That he had been

o

cruel and rapacious could not be denied,
but he had only slain his enemies, and con-
fiscated their property — venial offences in
the opinion of men who had lived during
the sanguinary Wars of the Roses.

The relets felt for the loss of the kino;
were heightened by fears for the future —
great anxiety being felt in regard to the
new Government. That the cjueen M'ould
attempt to rule in the name of her youthful
SOD, the Prince of Wales, no one doubted;
but that she would lono; maintain sovereig'n
sway seemed very questionable. Unfor-

EDU'ARD THE FOURTH. loj

tunately for herself, Elizabeth had no party,
except her own relatives, and certain new-
made peers, who were detested by the old
nobility, and disliked by the people.

While Edward lived, the queen had been
omnipotent, because he granted all her re-
quests, and upheld her family. Deprived
of his support, she had little authority. As
we just intimated, her brother, the Earl of
Rivers, and her sons by her first marriage
— the Marquis of Dorset and Lord Gray —
were prominent members of the Council ;
but Buckingham, Hastings, and Stanley,
three most powerful nobles, were hostile to
her, and it was certain she would have to
contend with Gloucester, whose partisans
were already at work. su<i2;estin;2: that she
Avas not lawfully married to the king, and
that her sons, 1)eing illegitimate, could not
succeed to the crown.

lo8 THE GOLDSMITH'S fVIFE.

Such a prospect did not bode future tran-
quillity.

Another matter, likewise, occupied the
crowd, and gave rise to much muttered dis-
cussion. The suddenness of the king's
death excited suspicion that he had been
poisoned at the grand banquet given by
him only two days previously ; but by
whom, or at whose instigation, the deadly
potion was administered, none ventured to
afhrm.

By common consent the queen was en-
tirely acquitted of any participation in the
dark deed ; but suspicion attached to Glou-
cester, who was likely to be the gainer by
his royal brother's removal, and w^ho was
known to be capable of such an atrocious
act.

Amongst those near the catafalque was a

EDWARD THE FOURTH. I09

Franciscan friar, who had obtained admit-
tance at the same time as Malbouche.

Kneeling down, he appeared to pray fer-
vently for the departed monarch, but was
not so much engrossed by his devotions as
he seemed. He had contrived to place him-
self near Buckingham and Hastings, and a
good deal of their discourse, though carried
on in a low tone, reached his ear. This was
what he overheard.

" Before this hoiu' to-morrow," said Buck-
ingham, " the express whom I ordered to
ride for his life will reach York, and the
Duke of Gloucester will be made aware of
the king's death. 1 have written to inform
him, but that Riyers, Dorset, and Gray are
certain to dispute his claim, inasmuch as
the king, in his latest moments, appointed
the queen to be Regent, Avith full powers.

no THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

I added that unless he can secure the cus-
tody of the young king, v/ho is now at
Ludlow Castle with his uncle, Lord Rivers,
Ins highness's chance of the Protectorship
is irretrievably lost. I told him he might
depend on our support, and that we can
offer him a corps of a thousand soldiers,
well armed, and ready to march at a mo-
ment's notice."

" His highness must not lose time," re-
plied Hastings. " I have ascertained that
the cpieen has despatched a courier to Lord
Rivers, with tidings of the king's death,
enjoining his lordship to levy troops imme-
diately in AVales, to enable him to conduct
his royal nephew safely to London for the
coronation."

" Ere the young king can reach London
he must be in Gloucester's liands, or we

EDWARD THE FOURTH. I I I

are lost," observed Buckingham, signifi-
cantly. But how came Edward to give
the queen uncontrolled authority ? He
always declared that Gloucester should be
Protector."

" And Gloucester would be Protector
now," replied Hastings, " had not Mistress
Shore induced the dying king to appoint
her mnjesty Regent."

" By acting thus injudiciously, Mistress
Shore v/ill make a mortal enemy of Glou-
cester, and gain nothing for the queen,"
remarked Buckingham.

" To do her justice, I belive her motives
were nood," said Hastinors,

" Xow that the kins; has o:one, her
power has departed from her," said Buck-
ingham. " But no doubt she has enriched
herself."

I I 2 Tim GOLDSMITH'S IVIFE.

" 'Tis her own fault if she has not," re-
jouied Hastings. " But she is really disin-
terested, and I incline to think she has not
availed herself of the many opportunities
offered her of becoming wealthy. However,
the influence she enjoyed is gone, as she
will speedily discover. Suitors will no longer
throns: her ante-chamber — courtiers will
shun her."

*' 'Tis a hard fate, I must own, to be raised
to such an eminence, and then cast down,"
observed Buckingham. " But Mistress
Shore can go back to her husband, if he is
still in existence."

" No ; that is impossible !" said Hastings,
" The crazy goldsmith has not been heard
of since his wife left him."

Just then, perceiving the Lord Mayor,
who had come up in the interim, he said to
him :

ED^FJRD THE FOURTH. IIJ

" Can your lordship inform me what has
become of Alban Shore, the goldsmith ?"

" That is a question I cannot answer/"
replied the other. " Possibly he may now
reappear. Should he not do so, we may
conclude him dead. But if he still lives'
he must be poor, for all his money was
given away in charities. At one time I
envied Shore his good fortune in gaining-
such a lovely wife, but I have since-
esteemed myself the luckier man ; though
had I been in his place I would not have
taken her abandonment of me so much to
heart."

" Perchance, you loved her not as welt
as Shore loved her, my lord," remarked
Hastings. " But she had many suitors be-
sides yourself, I remember."

" Very true," replied the Lord Mayor.

VOL. III. I

114 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

" And, strange to say, they were all at the
last banquet given by the king — stranger
still, they are all here to-day."

" The party -would have been complete
had Shore been present on the last occa-
sion," observed Buckingham.

" Or were he here now," said the Lord
]\layor. "Mistress Shore has lost none of
her beauty. I know not how others feel,
but for my own part I confess I am as much
in love with her as ever."

" 'Twould have been treason to make this
avowal two days ago, my lord," said Buck-
ingham. " But you may now succeed the
king in her favour."

Before the Lord Mayor could make any
reply, the friar, who seemed disturbed by
the discourse, arose from his kneeling pos-
ture, and without raising his hood, said, in ,
a hollow voice :

EDWARD THE FOURTH. I 1 5

" Alban Shore is not dead !"

" How kno^Y'st thou that ?" said the Lord
Mayor.

" No matter how I know it," replied the
friar. " I affirm that Alban Shore still
lives. But he is not likely to trouble his
wife."

" Thou must give me precise information
on this point at a more convenient season,"
observed the Lord Llayor.

" Willingly," replied the monk.

And bowing his head, he moved to a
litile distance.

Just then, the Marquis of Dorset came
up, and without noticing either of the two
nobles, who eyed him haughtily, said to the
Lord Mayor :

" It has just been decided by the Council,
as no doubt your lordship has been given
i2

1 1 6 THE GOLDSMITH'S JVIFE.

to understand, that the young king will be
proclaimed to-morrow."

" Orders to that effect have already been
give]!, my lord," replied the Lord Mayor ;
" and I will see them carried out in person.
At noon to-morrow, King Edward the Fifth
will be proclaimed at Paul's Cross, at the
Cross at Cheapside, and at other public
places. 'Tis too soon as yet, I suppose, to
speak of the coronation ?"

" The coronation will take place imme-
diately after the iirrival of his youthful
majesty in London," replied Dorset. " As
soon as a sufficient escort can be provided,
he will commence his journey from Ludlow
Castle."

" I should have thought a very small
escort would be required, my lord," said
the Lord Mayor. " Against whom is his
youthful majesty to be defended ?"

EDJVARD THE FOURTH. I I /

'' Ay, who are liis enemies ?" demanded
Hastings, sternlj-. " Xot liis brave and loyal
uncle, the Duke of Gloucester ; not the
Duke of Buckingham, Lord Stanle}", or
myself, who are all devoted to hini, and
ready to lay down our lives in his defence.
Methinks the guard is required to confirm
the power of Lord Rivers, rather than to
protect the young king."

'• I care not wliat you think, my lord,"
rejoined Dorset, haughtily. " No precau-
tionary measures will be neglected. The
queen is well aware that the Duke of Buck-
ingham and yourself are in secret com-
munication with the Duke of Gloucester,"

''Does her majesty distrust us?" de-
manded Buckingham.

" I do," replied Dorset. " Therefore, the
young king will have an army to guard
him. Forget not that I hold the Tower,

1 1 8 t:he goldsmpth's niFE.

and am head of the Council, in the absence
of Lord Rivers. My Lord ]\Iayor," he
added to that dignitary, " the queen counts
upon ■ your loyalty and devotion to the
king, her son."

" Her majesty may entirely rely on me,
my lord," replied the Lord Mayor.

With a look of defiance at Buckingham
and Hastings, the Marquis of Dorset then
moved away.

"I thought a reconciliation had taken
place between your lordships and the
queen's family," observed xhe Lord Mayor.

" We shook hands at the king's request,
and vowed to be good friends, and this is
the result," rejoined Buckingham. " Your
lordship shall have a full explanation
anon."

"I require no explanation, my !ord,"

EDV/ARD THE FOURTH. I I 9

said the Lord Mayor. " I can see plainly
enough what we may expect. My own
course is clear. I shall side with neither
party, but uphold King Edward the
Fifth."

120 THE GOLDSMITH'S tVIFE.

XL

now king edwatid tue fourth was interred ix saint
George's chapel.

After being exposed for nine hours to
public gaze, the royal corpse was removed
to a traverse, and robed in a long gown of
purple cloth of gold. It was next placed
in a large, open coffin, lined with white
damask, and laid upon a bier before the
high altar.

During the preparation for the latter
part of the solemnity, the vast crowd col-
lected within the nave and ' transepts was
<jonstrained to leave the abbey.

EDWARD THE FOURTH. 121

A strange and awful circumstance oc-
curred at the time. Sir William Catesby
had been appointed by tlie Lord Ciiam-
berlain to superintend the removal of the
royal corpse. The office was distasteful to
him, but he could not refuse it. Wlien he
approached, the bearers trembled, for the}'
thought that a frown passed over the dead
king's countenance.

Appalled by the occurrence, which he
himself had noticed, Catesby drew back,
whereupon the king's visage resumed its
serene expression.

Catesby was standing aloof, unable to
shake off this superstitious terror, when
Malbouche came up to hin' and said, " I
trow. Sir William, you have heard of the
ordeal of touch ?"

"Wherefore the question?" demanded
Catesbv.

122 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

" I would fain see you lay your hand
upon the king's body," said Malbouche.
"Dare you do it?"

" Certes, I dare ! What should hinder
me? But I shall not do it to please
thee."

" Again, I say, you dare not touch the
body," cried Malbouche.

" Thou liest, knave !" exclaimed Catesby.

" To the proof, then !" said the jester.

Catesby stepped forward, Avith feigned
boldness, but secret miso;ivino;.

When he came up to the bier, the king's
countenance again seemed to change, and
the conscience-stricivcn villain shrank back.

" Said I not you would not touch the
body ?" cried Malbouche.

Catesby made no reply.

When the bier sustaining the royal coffin

EDWARD THE FOURTH.

had been placed before the altar, which was
lighted up by tall tapers, twenty-four ban-
nerets and knio;hts, in lone black o-owns and
hoods, ranged themselves on either side to
keep Yvatch.

A mass of Requiem w^as then performed
by the Abbot of Westminster, while the
nobles and gentlemen knelt around. Dc
jirofundis was likewise said. During the
office, Lord Dacre offered for the queen :
the young Earl of Lincoln, son of the
Duchess of Suffolk, Edward's sister, like-
wise offered ; and many others, including
Dorset, Buckin";ham, and Hastino;s.

The wdiole psalter ^vas recited, and the
solemn service lasted till an hour after mid-
night, when another mass of Requiem was
performed.

The cofHn was then closed and borne by

124 THE GOLDSMITH'S niFE.

the bannerets and knights through the
choir, to the great porch, wliere a grand
funeral car was Avaiting to receive it.

While the royal body was placed in the
car, the bell of the abbey began to toll, and
a long procession was formed, comprising
the monks, the abbot, the Archbishop of
York, who A\as likewise Chancellor, the
chief nobles, with the Lord Mayor, the
sheriffs and aldermen.

The funeral train was preceded by a
mounted guard of archers and yeomen of
the guard, bearing torches. On either side
of the funeral car Avalked the jMarquis of
Dorset, and the Lords Gray, Dacre, and
Lincoln, holding the pall. A long train of
nobles and gentlemen followed, walking
two and two.

Seen by the light of the torches, as it

EDWARD THE FOURTH. I25

shaped it slow course from the abbey to
the palace stairs, -where a barge was in
readiness to convey the royal corpse to
Windsor, the procession formed a most
striking spectacle, and despite the unseasoii-
ableness of the hour, was witnessed by an
immense number of spectators, all of whom
appeared greatly impressed.

The bell of the abbey continued to toll
throughout, but no trumpets were blown,
nor was any other sound heard.

Deposited within the barge, which was
draped M'ith black velvet, and decked witli
the royal arms, the king's coffin was watched
throughout its noctural transit by the ban-
nerets and knights. Tapers burnt at the
head and foot of the l)ier, and priests re-
cited prayers.

With the conveyance thus assigned to

126 THE GOLDSMITH'S M^FE.

the deceased monarch were five other state
barges, all filled with various officials.

In the foremost of these, which preceded
the royal body by a bow-shot, trampcters
were stationed, and their clarions were oc-
casionally sounded to keep the river clear.
The conduct of the ceremonial was en-
trusted by the queen to her chamberlain,
Lord Dacre.

A short halt was made at Shene Palace,
where all the royal attendants had come
forth, with the seneschal, and loudly ex-
pressed their sorrow. But the most genuine
manifestation of sorrow was made by Mal-
bouchc, who had been allowed by Lord
Dacre to accompany the body of his royal
master.

In the grey light of dawn, the royal
corpse arrived at Windsor, and was at once

EDJVARD THE FOURTH. 127

conveyed to Saint George's Hall, where it
lay in state for three days.

Subsequently, the king was interred in
Saint George's Chapel, the funeral obsequies
being conducted with great pomp.

A lady, attired in deepest morning, whose
features were completely concealed by a
thick veil, was conducted by Lord Dacre to
a place within the cliapel not far from the
royal body.

This lady, who was evidently over-
whelmed by afSiction, knelt down and re-
mained in a supplicating posture till the
close of the ceremonial, when she was as-
sisted from the chapel, almost in a fainting
state, by the queen's Chamberlain.

Iznh of 13ook tijc jPouitfj.

i3ooIi tl)c jpiftlj.

THE ABBEY SANCTUARY.

VOL. III.

K

I.

now JANE DEVOTED IIEaSELF TO THE QUEEN.

Nearly a Aveek had elapsed since Edward
the Fourth was interred in Saint Georo-e's
Chapel at Windsor.

Jane had been present at the funeral, as
described ; but on her return that night to
licr apartments in Westminster Palace, she
was seized with a violent illness, that threat-
ened to deprive her of life or reason.

Owing to the sedulous care of Doctor
Lewis, the late king's physician, she re-
k2

IS^ THE GOLDSMITH'S IVIFE.

covered ; and on the sixth day, though
still feeling very weak, she was able to
sit up.

Then, for the first time, she assumed her
mourning habits ; and these being of black
velvet, edged with white silk, and em-
broidered with silver, contrasted strongly
with the unwonted paleness of her com-
plexion. But, though bearing evident traces
of deep affliction, her features appeared
almost more interesting than they had done
before this heavy blow had fallen upon
her.

She was alone, and seated in a cabinet,
•communicating with a larger apartment, in
which she had often sat with the kino- and
was thinking of him, and of the many happy
hours they had passed together.

Alas! these happy hours were gone —

THE ABBEY SANCTUARY. 1 33

never to return ! Deprived of him she liad
so deeply loved, she felt that life would
henceforth be a blank ; and she resolved to
bur}^ her woes in a convent, and seek to
atone, by penance and prayer, for the faults
she had eonrmitted.

She was still occupied by sad reflections
— still thinking: of the kino- — when a pao-e
entered, and said that a Franciscan friar
•was without, and prayed admittance, as he
had somewhat of importance to commu-
nicate to her.

A feeling of misgiving crossed her at this-
announcement, but she ordered that the
friar should be admitted.

When he came in, his hood was drawn
over his face, so as to conceal his features^
but she knew who it was.

As soon as the page had retired, the friar

13+ THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

took a parchment from his gown, and placed
it on the table beside her.

As he did this, he said to Jane, who
watched him in surprise :

"Here is the Avarrant for ten thousand
marks given you by the king."

Without a word more, he was about to
depart, but Jane stopped him.

" My errand is done," he said. " I would
rather answer no questions."

" Yet tell me, I pray you, by whom the
warrant was taken, and vrith what design ?"
she cried.

" I took it not — let that sutSce!" rejoined
the friar.

"My suspicions alight on Alice Ford-
ham," cried Jane. " Did she take it?"

"Question me not, I repeat!" he said.
" Thus much I will tell you freelv. It was

THE JBBEY SAXCTUARY. 1 35

taken from vindictive motives, and not from
desire of gain."

'^ What you say convinces me it was taken
by Alice Fordhara," rejoined Jane. " But
I am perplexed to understand how the
paper came into your hands !''

" Xo matter how I obtained it !"' said the
friar. " But for me the warrant would
have been destroyed. If you desire the

monev — and ten thousand marks is a laro-e

•J «_■

sum — I counsel you to apply for it without
delay to the ]\Iarquis of Dorset, keeper of
the late king's treasure, or he may not be
able to pay the amount to you. The Duke
of Gloucester, who is no friend of yours,
may prevent him !"

" The Duke of Gloucester !" exclaimed
Jane, in alarm. " Is he in power ? I pray
}-ou tell me ! All news has been kept from

13^ THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

me during my illness, so that I really know
nothing."

" Gloucester will soon be Lord Protector
— rest assured of that!" rejoined the monk.
" The young king is in his hands, and he is
bringing his royal nephew to London for
the coronation."

Astounded by the intelligence, Jane sank
back, and the friar quitted the room.

Shortly afterwards Doctor Lewis came in,
and she eagerly questioned him.

" Is it true," she said, " that Lord Elvers
has given up the young king to his evil-
hearted, treacherous uncle, Gloucester? I
cannot believe it !"

" 'Tis true, nevertheless," rejoined the
physician.

" And where is Buckingham ?" cried
Jane.

THE JBBE Y SANC TUAR Y. 1 3 7

" With the Duke of Gloucester!" was the
reply.

" I knew it !" cried Jane. " I knew he
would be art and part in the treacherous
scheme. And Lord Hastin<2;s — where is
he ?*'

" In London, with the Council," replied
Doctor Lewis. '' But he is hostile to the
queen."

" Ay, he and Buckingham are her ma-
jesty's implacable enemies," said Jane.
" Oh, tliat I could help her in this emer-
gency, when she has such powerful foes to
contend Avith ! Is her son, Lord Gray, with
her?"

" Lord Gray was made prisoner by Glou-
cester at the same time as his uncle, Lord
liivers," replied the physician. " He had
been sent to Ludlow Castle with a letter

13S THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

from the queen to her brother, bidding
him dismiss all the young king's guards,
and hasten to London Avith only his usual
retinue. Lord Rivers imprudently com-
plied with the injunction. Leaving all his
armed men behind him, he set forth with
his tvv^o nephews, the young king and Lord
Gray, and a score of attendants. The hypo-
critical Gloucester, who had prepared this
scheme by writing a submissive letter to
the queen, was waiting for them with a
thousand men at Northampton. Lord.
Rivers and Lord Gray unsuspectingly fell
into the snare, and accepting an invitation,
brought them by Buckingham from the
wily Gloucester, took the young king to
Northampton, where they passed the night
in festivity. Next morn, the two confiding
nobles were arrested by their treacherous

THE ABBE Y SANC TUAR Y. I 3 9

host, and sunt, under a strong guard, to
Pontefract Castle : while Gloucester, having-
fully succeeded in his design; seized upon
his royal nephew."

" Unless the young king can be torn
from the clutches of that remorseless tio'er,
he will Idc destroyed," cried Jane. " Glou-
cester has now made one successful step,
and M'ill never rest till he has mounted the
throne. All hindrances will be swept aside
fey liim. But the crown must be preserved
for Edward's sons. Hear me, gracious
Heaven ! ' she ejaculated, falling on her
knees before a crucifix placed on one side
of the room. " Grant, I implore Tiiee, that
1 may be the humble instrument of saving
this young prince from the great peril by
which he is threatened ! Grant that my
efforts, inspired and directed from above,

I40 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

may avail to preserve for him his father's
croAVD, which a usurper would snatch from
his brow ! Grant, 0 Heavenly Power !
that I may be enabled to accomplish this ;
and Avhen the task I desire to under-
take is finished, 1 hereby solemnly vow to
devote the remainder of my life to Thy
service !"

Uttered with an earnestness and fervour
that left no doubt of the sincerity of the
supplicant, this prayer produced a strong
effect upon a person who had entered the
cabinet at the very moment when Jane
knelt down, but vv^ould not come forward,
being unwdlling to interrupt her.

It was a tall, stately dame, of a very
commanding presence, habited in mag-
nificent mourning. On her brow was a
white frontlet that covered her beautiful

THE ABBE Y SANC TUAR Y. 1 4 >

tresses, and on the lower part of her face
was a phiited linen coverhig, called a barbe.
Though her noble features looked sor-
rowful, it was sorrow mingled with pride
and anij-er.

As soon as Jane became aware of the
presence of her august visitor, she arose,
and made a profound obeisance to her.

" I have come to you in my distress,"
said the "widowed queen, " and have heard
enough to convince me that 3'ou will serve
me and my sons, so far as lies in your
power,"

" That I will, gracious madame," replied
Jane, earnestly. " I will lay down my life
for you and them !"

"There is no one but yourself with whom
I can take counsel, and on whom I can
rely," pursued the queen. "I am deprived

142 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

of the lielp of my brother, Lord Rivers, and
of my sons, the Marquis of Dorset and Lord
Gray. Rivers and Gra}^ are prisoners, and
Dorset cannot quit the Tower at this ter-
rible juncture. Doubtless you are aAvare
of the irrave fault I committed in orderinir

o O

Lord Rivers to dismiss the escort he had
provided for the young king. But for that
fatal error my son Avould now be here, and,
with him in my own keeping, I should be
able to set my enemies at defiance. The
step taken by Gloucester is only part of a
plan, the end of which is the destruction of
all my children."

" Such is my own opinion, madame," ob-
served Jane, mournfull}^

"AYe are not safeAvithin the palace," pur-
sued the queen, "since I have no guard to
defend me, should an attempt be made —

THE ABBEY SANCTUARY. 143

as is most likely — to seize upon my second
son, the Duke of York. Whither shall I
fly ?•'

" I have advised her majesty to take re-
fuzQ v/ith her children in the Al)bev Sane-
tuary," observed Doctor Lewis. " But
she hesitates, lest it should seem she is
alarmed."

''The measure, though repugnant to yovu'
feelings, is absolutely necessary, gracious
madame," urged Jane. "Yourself and your
children will then be secure, for even Glou-
cester will not dare to violate a sacred
asjdum, the privileges of which have been
recognised for centuries by popes and kings.
Therefore you v»'ill be far safer in the Abbey
Sanctuary than if }'ou took refuge in the
Tower Avith 3'our son, the Marquis of Dorset,
or in any other strong castle, where you

144 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

might be besieged. Moreover, while you
hnve the young Duke of York with you,
the kino; is safe, for if the elder brother be
put to death, the younger becomes king."

" You have convinced me," said the
queen. "I will take all my children at
once to the Sanctuar3\ IS^or will I stir
thence till this danger be past."

"You have well resolved, madame," said
the physician, approvingly.

" If you do not disdain ni}^ services,
gracious madame, I would offer to accom-
pany you," said Jane, " and I may be able
to render you some little assistance. I will
bring with me all the money and jewels I
possess. Tliey are yours."

" You miake a great sacrifice," said the
queen ; " and I fully appreciate it. I accept
the offer, because I may need money, and

THE ABBEY SANCTUARY. 145

I have little, and can obtain none from the
Marquis of Dorset."

" Here's a warrant for ten thousand
marks,'' said Jane, pointing to the paper.
"Will it avail your majesty ?"

" 'Tis useless now," said the queen ; " yet
keep it — better days may come."

"For me no better days can come," re^
joined Jane, mournfully. " I have no desire
left save to see your majesty and your
children righted. When that happens — as,
Avith Heaven's grace, it will happen — I shall
have done with the world."

" Rejoin me in the Sanctuary," said the
queen. "Bring with you such attendants
as you need, and all matters you require.
I will now go and give orders to my ovrn
servants to prepare at once for the re
moval."

VOL. III. L

146 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

" I will attend to your instructions,
madame," said Jane, making a profound
obeisance to the queen, as her majest}' with-
drew.

Seeing that Jane looked scarcely equal to
the effort, the physician promised to return
and help her, as soon as he had attended
the queen to her apartments.

THE ABBE Y SANCTUAR Y. 147

II.

now THE AKCHBISHOP OF YORK BROrGHT THE GKEAT
SEAL TO THE QUEEN.

" I MAKE it known to all generations of
the world after me, that, by special com-
mandment of our holy father, Pope Leo, I
have renewed and honoured the holy church
of the blessed apostle, Saint Peter, at West-
minster. And I order and establish for ever,
that any person, of what condition or estate
soever he be, from wheresoever he come, or
for what offence or cause it be, if he shall
take refuge in the said holy place, he be as-
L 2

I4S THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

sured of his life, liberty, and limbs. More-
over, I forbid, under ^^ain of everlasting
damnation, that any minister of mine, or of
my successors, shall intermeddle with any
goods, lands, or possessions of the said per-
sons taking the said Sanctuary. For I take
their goods and livelihood into my special
protection, and, therefore, grant to every
and each of them, insomuch as my terres-
trial power may suffice, all manner of free-
dom and joyous liberty. And whosoever
shall presume or do contrary to this my
grant, I ordain that he lose his name, wor-
ship, dignity, and poAver. And I will that
this my grant endure as long as tlicre re-
maineth in England either love or dread of
Christian name."

Such were the terms of the charter
Avhereby the great privilege of Sanctuary,

THE ABBEY SANCTUJRY. 149

originrJly granted to the Abbey Church of
Westminster by Sebert, King of the East
Saxons, vras confirmed b}' Edward the Con-
fessor in the middle of tlie eleventh century.

From that date to the period of our
stor}', the privilege continued in full force,
and endured long afterwards, until its gross
abuse necessitated entire suppression.

Nor was the privilege of Sanctuary con-
fined merely to the abbey, but extended to
its precincts, within which the Abbot's
Palace was included.

In this large monastic mansion, then
some three centuries old, the unfortunate
queen was lodged.

Registered, with all her children, accord-
ing to the customar}- form, as Sanctuary
persons, she was now safe. It was not the
first time she had been compelled by ad.

15° THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

verse circumstances to seek an asylum in
the Abbot's Palace. Indeed, the 3^oung
king, her son, was born there, in 1470,
when Edward was driven from the kingdom
by Warwick.

Seated in a large stone hall, panelled at
one end with oak, and hung with arras, the
queen was watching her serving-men, who
had been busily engaged throughout the
night in bringing chests, coffers, and other
articles to the Sanctuary.

The torches that illumined the hall
showed a great quantity of chests and
household stuff piled on the floor, and also
revealed the sad figure of the queen, as she
sat there alone.

Neither children nor attendants were
with her. The young Duke of York and
the five princesses, his sisters, had long

THE ABBE Y SJXCTUJR Y. 1 5 I

since retired to rest. Jane, also, vrho had
followed the royal lady to the Sanctuary,
and had stayed Avith her to a late hour,
rendering- all the assistance she could, had
at last yielded to fatigue, and was now
slumbering in a chair in another part of
the hall.

The queen woukl not quit her post, but
sat there throuo-hout the nioht, notino- each

CD CD > O

chest as it was brought in and laid down
before her.

She was wrapped in a black velvet robe ;
and her splendid tresses, being unbound,
streamed over her shoulders.

On the table near which she sat were a
lamp and a missal ; but her eyes seldom
rested on the book of prayer.

Thus the night had passed — one of the
weariest and saddest nights the queen had

15^ THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

ever spent— and dawn was close at hand,
when a noise outside roused her from the
apathetic state in which she had suniv, and
filled her with alarm. Who but an enemy
could come there at that hour ?

It was not an eneniy, however, l3ut a
friend. It was the Archbishop of York,
who was likewise Lord Chancellor, that
entered the hall.

The palace of the archbishop adjoined
the abbey, so he had not far to come.
Short, however, as was the distance, he
brought with him several armed attendants,
and it was the noise they made, while sta-
tioning themselves at the door of the hall,
that had alarmed the queen.

An officer of the archbishop's household
followed his grace, carrying a purple velvet
bag, embroidered with the royal arms.

THE ABBEY SJXCTi'JRY. 1 53

On recognising lier visitor, the rjueen
arose, and received him with as much dio-
nity as if she had been in her own pahnce.

"I did not think to see your grace at
this hour," she said. '"But you are always
welcome, and never more welcome than
now, for I am sure vou come to me as a
friend."

" I brino- vou news that I trust will 2;ive
you comfort, madame. Xot half an hour
ago 1 Avas wakened from my sleep b}' a mes-
senger from Lord Hastincfs, who told me
that your majesty need be under no appre-
hension, for all would yet be well. There-
upon, I attired myself in haste, and came
hither with the messao-e."

o

" And does your grace attach credit to
it ?" cried the queen. " I believe nothing
that comes from Hastings. He is my deadly

154 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

enemy, and seeks to destroy me and my
children. He thinks by these false mes-
sages, sent through a friend so loyal and
true-hearted as your grace, that he will
induce me to quit this asylum, and place
myself in Gloucester's poAver, but I will dis-
appoint him. Here I will stay until the
king, my son, is crowned, and invites me to
come forth from my refuge."

" I do not counsel you to leave the Sanc-
tuary, gracious madame," rejoined the
archbishop. " But I think you judge Lord
Hastings harshly. I admit he is not your
friend, but he was devoted to the king, your
husband, and his zeal and attachment are
now transferred to the young king, your
son. Rest assured he would not harm your
children."

" He is the chief accomplice in this plot

THE ABBEY SA XCTUAR Y. 1 5 $

with Gloucester to deprive my son of the
crown," said the queen. " He has selected
your grace as his messenger, because he
knows i\\Q. great confidence I have in you,
and the great respect in wliich I hold you.
But tell him that I doubt him — nay more,
that I know Lim to be false and treacherous.
Bid your attendant retire for a moment,
for I have somewhat to say to you in
private."

At a sign from the archbishop, the officer
retired to a short distance, so as to be out
of hearing.

" What would you say to me, madame ?"
asked the archbishop.

" I believe Gloucester will kill the king,
my son," she rejoined, in a low, deep
voice.

" I cannot penetrate Gloucester's designs,

156 THE GOLDSMlTirS WIFE.

maclame," rejoined i\\Q nrcLbishop ; "but
the dark deed would avail him little. Were
the king, your sou, murdered to-day, to-
morrow I would crown his brother, the
Duke of York."

"I see your grace is truly loj^al,"" cried
the queen.

" Your mnjesty shall have unquestion-
able proof of my fidelity," said the arch-
bishop.

Then, signing to the officer to come for-
ward, he bade him place the embroidered
velvet bag upon the table.

" Lo ! there, madame," said his grace —
" there is the Great Seal of England, the
badge of regal power, without which no-
thing of moment in State affairs can be
done. The king, your husband, gave me
the seal, and I hereby return it to vou.

THE AB BE Y SANC TUAR Y. 1 57

Keep it for King Edward's sons, and
secure their right. Could stronger proof of
my loyalty and devotion be given, I would
give it."

" My lord, you have done enough," re-
plied the que^n, in accents of heartfelt gra-
titude. '' You have raised fresh hopes in
my breast. AVith Heaven's aid I shall yet
triumph over my enemies."

" Doubt it not, 2;racious madame," re-
plied the archbishop. " It glads me that 1
have broucjht consolation to A'our anxious
breast. Seek some repose, I entreat you.
You need it much. Later on in the day
we will confer together again. Till then,
farewell."

" I pray your grace to give me your
blessing ere you go," said the queen.

And as she bent down, the archbishop

THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

stretclied his arms over her, and exclaimed
fervently :

" Heaven bless your majesty, and guard
you and your children from all ill!"

As the queen arose, he quitted the hall
with his attendant.

Ko sooner was he gone than the queen
clapped her hands.

The sound awoke Jane, who sprang from
the chair on which she had slept, and flew
towards her.

" What would your majesty ?" she cried.

" Bring that bag to my chamber. It
contains the Great Seal of England."

" Is the seal for your younger son ?"
ashed Jane.

" Time will show," replied the queen.

THE ABBE Y SANCTUAR Y. 1 5 9

III.

THE ABBOT OF AYESTMINSTEK.

Jane occupied a chamber situated in the
upper part of the Abbot's Pahice, and look-
ing down upon a beautiful little flower
garden adjoining the inner court.

Being greatly fatigued, she did not rise
till late, and had just attired lierself, when,
hearing voices beneath, she went to the
window, which had been thrown open Ij}'
her attendant.

On one side of the secluded little garden

l6o THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

rose the grey monastic mansion — on the
other, the buttresses and pinnacles of the
abbey.

A more charming retreat cannot be con-
ceived, and in it the abbot vras wont to
spend many hours in each day, but he now
left it to the queen and her family.

In this little garden, shut round by high
stone walls,- but still trim, and well kept,
the royal children were collected.

Apparently the youthful captives were
not much cast down, for their voices
sounded cheerfully, and occasionally a
lio-lit lauo;h was heard.

On looking forth, Jane perceived tlio
Duke of York playing with his younger
sisters, and chasino; them alons; the narrow
2;ravel walks.

Near a sun-dial, placed in the centre of

THE ABBEY SANCTUARY

i6i

the trim parterre, stood the Princess Eliza-
beth and the Princess Cicely. The counte-
nances of both these lovely damsels had a
sad expression.

All the party were in mourning.

Jane watched the scene with great in-
terest— an interest deepened by the anxiety
she felt for the safety of the young prince,
who seemed unconscious of any danger.

After sporting with his younger sisters
for some time, the Duke of York came up
to the two princesses standing near the sun-
dial, and asked them if they would not play
with him.

Both declined, and told him he had had
sufficient pastime,

" I would the king, my brother, were
here to play with me!" he said.

" I would he were, for then he would be

VOL. III. M

l62

THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

out of the power of our cruel uncle, the
Duke of Gloucester," remarked the Princess
Elizabeth. "I fear we shall never behold
our dear brother again."

" Should Gloucester kill him, 1 shall be
king, and then I Avill put Gloucester himself
to death," cried the young duke.

" It would be far better if we could
iind some means of delivering Edward
from our uncle's power," said the Princess
Cicely.

" Why does not Edward try to escape,
and come to us?" cried the Duke of
York.

" The attempt would be useless. He is
too strictly guarded," replied the Princess
Elizabeth. " Take care you never get into
our uncle Gloucester's hands, Richard, or
he will shut you up in the Tower."

THE ABBEY SANCTUARY. 163

"He cannot force me hence!" said the
j^oung duke. "And the Lord Chancellor
has given the queen the Great Seal, with-
out which nothing can be done."

" Alas ! the Lord Chancellor has sent for
it back !" said Elizabeth.

"But surely the queen refused to give
it up ?" cried the young duke. " I would
not have returned it."

" Her majesty judged otherwise, and she
knows best," said Elizabeth, sadl3\ " But
be it for good or ill, the Great Seal is
gone."

This was news to Jane, and it greatly
distressed her. She could neither account
for the queen's imprudence, nor understand
why the Archbishop of York should have
acted thus.

M 2

1^4 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

But she was much more alarmed by what
presently occurred.

The young duke and his sisters had re-
sumed their play, Avhen the Abbot of West-
minster, attended by three or four monks,
<intered the garden.

On seeing him, the Duke of York imme-
diately stopped in his sport, and made the
abbot a low reverence.

"I am sent to conduct your highness to
the queen, your mother," said the abbot.
^The Cardinal Archbishop of Canterbury
is with her majesty."

^' My mind misgives me, holy father !" in-
terposed the Princess Elizabeth. " Me-
thinks the cardinal has come to take away
my brother?"

" 'Tis true, princess," rejoined the abbot.

THE ABBEY SANCTUARY. 165

'vBut I will not go with hiin," cried tlie
Duke of York, resolutely.

" What the queen, your mother, enjoins^
your highness will do, knowing it to be for
the best. Of that I am firmly persuaded/''
said the abbot. " Your royal uncle, the
Duke of Gloucester, having been appointed
Protector by the Council, and having the
care and guardianship of the king, deems it
improper that two brothers, hitherto brought
up together, should be separated, and he
has tlierefore sent to the queen demanding
that you be delivered up, and brought to
the king your brother, who is most wishful,
to have you with him. Your highness will
then be at libert}^, whereas you are now in:
prison, and the Lord Protector and the
Council hold it dishonourable to the king

l66 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

and to yourself that you should continue to
remain in this Sanctuary."

" I will answer for my brother, holy
father!" said the Princess Elizabeth. " It
can be no dishonour to the kinor or the
Duke of York that the duke should be with
his mother, and in an asylum where he is
safe from his enemies. Would to Heaven
the king, my brother, w^re with us ! I
should then feel far easier than I do
now !

" My errand, princess, is to conduct the
duke to the queen," replied the abbot. " If
3'ou and the princesses, your sisters, choose
to come with us, you will learn her majesty's
decision/'

With this he took the young duke's hand,
and led him out of the garden.

The Princess Elizabeth and her sisters

THE ABBEY SANC TUAR Y. I 6 7

followed — all looking very sad, and the
three youngest weeping.

The monks brought up the rear of the
little procession.

Guessing whither they were going, Jane
hurried down a circular stone staircase, and
reached the great hall before them.

i68

THE GOLDSMITIVS WIFE.

IV

now THE QUKEN DELIVERED L'P THE DUKE OF lOUK TO
CABDINAL BOUECHIER AND THE LORDS.

At the upper end of the large chamber,
which was still encumbered with chests and
household goods, sat the queen.

Her majesty was conferring with Cardinal
Bourchier, Archbishop of Canterbury, who
was accompanied by Lord Howard, and
several other nobles.

The cardinal had a very imposing pre-
sence, the effect of which was heightened
by his rich attire and hat. "His person was

THE ABBE Y SANC T UAR Y. 1 6 9

large, and his features strongly marked
and characterised rather by pride than be-
nignity,

A long and angry discussion had taken
place between his eminence and the queen,
in which the cardinal, partly by persuasion,
partly by menace, strove to induce her to
deliver up her son.

"Madame," said the cardinal, finding it
impossible to move her, " 1 am but a mes-
senger, with these lords, to ascertain your
pleasure. You have branded us all Avith
disloyalty and treachery, and have imputed
a most execrable desim to the Lord Pro-
tector. For ourselves, we can avouch that
we are loyal and true to the young prince,
your son ; and we dare avouch, also, that
the Lord Protector is equally true to his
royal nephcAv, and means him no harm by

17° THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

removing him from this Sanctuary, and
placing him with the king, his brother, but
much good. Madame, I have done, and
pray you to come to a speedy decision."

These words, and the tone in which they
were uttered, produced a great effect upon
the queen, and shook her firmness.

She knew not how to act for the best.
She did not for a moment believe that the
cardinal and the lords with him, though
hostile to herself, would be accessory to the
destruction of her son ; but she feared the
Protector.

Still, if Gloucester were resolved to vio-
late the Sanctuary, and take away the
young duke by force, she could not prevent
him. Since opposition would be useless, she
judged it the wisest course to yield.

At this painful juncture, the abbot en-

THE ABBE Y SANC TUAR Y. I 7 1

tered the hall with the young cliike, fol-
lowed by the princesses.

On beholding her son, the queen imme-
diately arose, and went to meet him.

Disengaging himself from the abbot, the
prince flew towards her. She caught him
in her arms, and covered him with kisses.

" You will not let them take me away,
dearest mother ?" he said.

She strained him to her breast ; and the
3'oung duke, becoming alarmed, repeated
the question.

"There is no help. You must go, my
sweet son," replied the almost heart-broken
mother. " Were I to keep you here, the
Lord Protector would take 3-ou hence by
force."

" I did not expect this," murmured the
duke.

17^ THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

The younger princesses had now come
up, and hearing what the queen said,
gathered round their brother.

" Since you must go, we will go with
you," they said.

" No, no ; stay with the queen, our
mother, and comfort her," rejoined the
duke. " Distress not yourself on m}^ ac-
count, dearest mother," he added, to the
queen. " Perhaps no harm may happen to
me."

" Thy youth and innocence ought to
guard thee, ray sweet son," said the queen.
" Bid farewell to th}^ sisters."

The young duke then tenderly embraced
them all ; and the scene was so touching,
that even the cardinal and the lords, though
well pleased that their mission was accom-
plished, were moved by it.

THE ABBEY SANCTUARY. 1 75

" Something tells me we shall not meet
again on earth, sweet brother," said little
Bridget, as she kissed the duke ; " but we
shall meet in heaven."

The queen had need cf all her fortitude
to sustain herself at this trying juncture.

Taking her son by the hand, she led
him towards those who Avere waiting for
him.

They bowed as he approached ; and the
young prince gracefully returned the salu-
tation, bending with especial reverence to
the cardinal.

" My lord cardinal, and you, my lords,"
said the queen, " I now deliver my son
to your keeping. I am confident of your
fidelity to him ; for I know you will not
betray the trust reposed in you by the
king, his father. Before Heaven and man,

174 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

I shall require my son again at your
hands."

Howard and the other lords made no
reply to this address, but simply bowed.
Cardinal Bourchier, however, who was
much moved by it, said, " Rest easy,
raadame. I will answer for your son's
safety."

She then turned towards the young
duke, and after regarding him for a few
moments with inexpressible affection, kissed
him, and said :

"Farewell, my beloved son! All good
angels guard thee ! Let me kiss thee again
ere we part, for Heaven only knows when
we shall meet again !"

Once more she pressed him to her heart
— once more she kissed him, and blessed
him fervently.

THE ABBEY SANCTUARY. 175

But tlie young prince clung to her, and
besought her not to send him away.

Gently detaching his hold, the agonised
mother delivered him to Cardinal Bourchier,
Avho advanced to take him from her.

Unconscious that they were conducting
the youthful victim to be sacrificed by his
bloodthirsty uncle, who was waiting for him
in the Star Chamber, the lords rejoiced at
their success, and cared nothing for the un-
happy queen's anguish.

Just as he was about to quit the hall, the
young Duke of York looked back, and be-
held his mother, with her eyes streaming,
and hands clasped, and looking the very
picture of despair. His sisters were gathered
round her.

He bade them farewell in his heart, and
it was a last farewell.

17^ THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

\.

HOW THE MARQUIS OF DOKSET TOOK KEFUGE IN THE
SANCTUARY.

Three days after the removal of the
young Duke of York, another event oc-
curred calculated to heighten the unhappy
queen's anxiety.

The Marquis of Dorset, her eldest son by
her first husband, who had hitherto filled
the high offices of Constable of the Tower
and keeper of the royal treasures, sought
refuge in the Abbey Sanctuary.

When he presented himself to the queen,

—7 ' ■

THE ABBE Y SA NC TUAR Y. I 7 7

she refused to embrace him, and reproached
him bitterly witli deserting his post, telhng
him he ought to have held the Tower to thc-
last.

" So lono; as that fortress was in our-
power, there was hope for us," she said,.
" Now there is none."

" Hear hovr I have been circumstanced,
ere you condemn me, madame !" replied
Dorset. " AYithin the last two days I have
lost all control in the Tower. Deprived of
my offices by Gloucester, who has seized
upon X\\Q royal treasures, and appropriated
them to his own use, I could not enforce
obedience from the men composing the-
garrison, and had I not been concealed in
the Wardi'obe Tower, by a servant who
continued faithful to me, and who subse-
quently enabled me to escape, I sliould have

VOL. III. N

17^ THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

been lodged in a dungeon, and, ere long,
brouo^ht to the block. Even when I ofot
out of the Tower I was not safe, for the
river swarms Avith barks filled with armed
men, on the look-out to arrest our partisans,
and prevent any of them from gaining this
Sanctuar}^"

" Ah ! dear son, I no longer blame you,"
cried the queen. "Heaven be praised, you
have escaped ! From what you saj' I con-
clude Gloucester is now in the Tower?"

" He occupies the palace with his re-
tainers," replied Dorset, " and acts as if he
were invested wdth supreme authority, as
3'ou may judge, when he st}des himself,
' Brother and Uncle of Kings, Protector and.
Defender, Great Chamberlain, Constable,
and Lord High Admiral of England.' While
I was hidden in the Wardrobe Tower, I

THE ABBEY SANCTUARY. 1 79

learnt that the king, your son, and his
brother, the Duke of York, are shut up
by the usurper in some private apartments
of the palace, where none are allowed to
see them."

" Alas ! alas !" exclaimed the queen. " I
much fear they will never come forth
a<2;ain !"

" I can offer you no comfort, madame,"
said Dorset, " for I share your worst fears.
Both 3^our sons are now completely in
Gloucester's power, and it is not likely he
will part with his prey."

" Have we no friends left to help us in
this dire extremity ?" cried the queen. " The
kino; was adored in the Citv. Will not the
citizens rise to defend his sons?"

"Madame, as I understand, the whole
City of London has been greatly troubled
N 2

1 oo THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

by these occurrences, and many loyal
citizens took up arms, demanding that the
young princes should be shown to them ;
but they were prevailed upon by Hastings,
who has much influence with the Lord
Mayor and the aldermen, to retire to their
own homes. Thus all hope of assistance
from that quarter is at an end."

" Hastings has ever been my enemy !"
cried the queen. " Next to Gloucester him-
self I fear him most."

" And with good reason," said Dorset.

At this juncture, Doctor Lewis entered
the hall. He seemed surprised to find the
Marquis of Dorset there, and expressed his
great satisfaction at his lordship's escape;
from the Tower.

" I will frankly confess that I never
thought to beliold you again, my lord !" ho

THE ABBEY SANCTUARY. l8l

said ; " for I am well aware that Gloucester
intended your destruction, and I marvel
you have been able to escape from him.
You are more fortunate than your bro-
ther. Lord Gray, and your uncle. Lord

r) • "
tivers.

"What of them?" cried the queen,
anxiousl}'. '' Nay, do not hesitate, good
doctor. I have had so many griefs of late,
that I am able to bear more."

" I thought the sad news must have
reached you madame, or I should not have
spoken of it," said the physician. " Thus,
then, it is. Sir Richard RadcliiFe, whom
you know to be a great favourite with
Gloucester, and ever ready to execute his
master's behests, has entered Pontefract
Castle, at the head of a large party of men,
and seized upon Lord Rivers, Lord Gray,

152 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

Sir Thomas Vaughan, and Sir Ricliard
Hawse."

" I guess wliat follows," said the queen.

" Without trial, without sentence," pur-
sued the physician, "they were dragged
into the outer court, where their heads
were stricken off in the presence of a vast
number of spectators, who were told they
were traitors, and had conspired with the
queen to destroy the Duke of Gloucester
and his cousin, the Duke of Buckingham,
and the old royal blood of the realm."

" My brother and my uncle slain !" cried
Dorset. '"'AVhere will this blood-thirsty
tyrant stop !"

" Not till he has slain us all!" said the
queen. " My turn may come next, or
yours, my son ! Heaven only knows ! I
thought I could bear the weight of any

THE ABBEY SJXC TUAR Y. 1 8 3

fresh calamity that might fall upon me,
but my strength fails me. Support me to
my chamber, Dorset, and do you come
with me, good Master Physician, for I may
need 3'our aid."

She then quitted the hall, leaning upon
her son, and attended by Doctor Lewis.

184 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

yi.

BY WHOM JANE WAS INDUCED TO QUIT THE SANCTUARY.

On the same da}^ but at a later hour,
Jane was in the abljey cloisters, and was
pacing to and fro, with her eyes fixed upon
the ground, when she became aware that
some one was approaching, and, looking up,
she beheld Lord Hastings.

After respectfully accosting her, he said :

" Till this morning I was not aware you

liad taken refuge in the Sanctuary. Had

you consulted me I should have advised

jou to remain in your apartments in the

THE ABBE Y SANCTUAR Y. 185

palace. Here you are shut out from all the
enjoyments of life, and from all pleasant
intercourse with your friends. In effect,
you are a prisoner, since you cannot stray
far beyond these cloisters. Let me take
you hence. I have interest enough with
the Lord Protector to shield you from all
harm, and save your property from confis-
cation."

" I doubt not your offer is made in good
faith, my lord," she rejoined, " but the Pro-
tector can do me little injmy. I care not
for the confiscation of my goods. I have
more money with me than I need. I shall
never again take part in the gaieties and
pleasures of the world, so that to be shut up
here is no punishment to me. As speedily
as may be, it is my intention to retire to a
convent."

i86

THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

" I might applaud your resolution," said
Hastings, " if I thought you Avere called
upon to sacrifice yourself thus. But I see
no reason for it. So far from your charms
being on the wane, you have not yet reached
the meridian of your beauty. When your
grief has abated you will reappear, looking
more lovely than ever. No, madame, it
must not be. The disappearance of a star so
brilliant would leave a blank in the firma-
ment."

"My lord," she replied, coldly, " all you
can say will fail to move me."

" Yet listen to me !" he said, assumino-
a more ardent manner. " Circumstances
compel me to avow my feelings sooner than
I intended. The charms you would bury
in a convent have produced a great im-
pression upon me. I love you passionately ;

THE ABBE Y SANCTUAR Y. 1 8 7

nay, I have long loved you, though, during
the king's lifetime, I controlled my passion.
Xow I can speak freely. From me you
will meet with the same devotion you met
with from Edward — more, perhaps, for I
will live only for you. Again, 1 pray you,
let me take you back to the palace, which,
as I have said, vou ouirht never to have
quitted."

" No, my lord," she replied; " I will never
leave this place, except, as I have told you,
for a convent."

" This is madness !" cried Hastings, un-
able to control his impatience. " As your
friend, I am bound to prevent you from
carrying this fatal resolution into effect.
You are too young, too fair, too captivating,
to retire from the world at present. Come
with me."

i88

THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

" Hold, my lord !" said Jane, as if struck
by a sudden idea. " Before I consent to
return with you to the palace, I must have
your promise that you will act as I desire."

" I will do Avhatever you enjoin," he
replied.

" You pledge your knightly word to
this?" she said.

'• I do," he replied, earnestly. " Are you
now content?"

" I am content to trust you," she re-
joined.

" Come, then !" he cried, hurrying her
along the cloister.

They had not proceeded far, when the
queen, attended by the Marquis of Dorset
and Doctor Lewis, issued from the ambu-
latory on the right.

For a moment, her majesty looked as if
she doubted the evidence of her senses ; but

THE ABBEY SANCTUARY. 189

as Jane stopped to address her, she said, in
a haughty tone, " Pass on."

" Grant me a word, niadame, ere I
depart," said Jane.

" What ?" exclaimed the queen, in in-
creased astonishment. "Are you about
to quit the Sanctuary ? — and with Lord
Hastings?"

" She is, madame," rephed Hastings.
" She is already wearied of it."

" Dismiss me not unheard, gracious ma-
dame," said Jane. " I shall be able to sa-
tisfy you "

" I am already satisfied you have de-
ceived me," said the queen ; " and no ex-
planation 3^ou can give will induce me to
change my opinion. With the powerful
friend you have secured, 'tis needless to
remain in this asvluni. Lord Hastinirs will
protect you."

19° THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE

" I have already promised to do so, ma-
dame," said Hastings.

" A Avord will convince you of the in-
justice you do me, madame," said Jane.

" Hear what she has to say, I beseech
you, madame !" said Doctor Lewis, struck
by Jane's manner.

" Speak, then !" said the queen, haughtily.

On this, the others moved away to a
short distance, leaving Jane and the queen
together.

" My motive for leaving this asylum is to
serve you, madame," said Jane.

" Serve me! How?" cried the queen.

" I know not in what way, madame, for
I am acting on a sudden impulse; but I
am persuaded I can be more useful to you
if I am at liberty than here. Should I fail
in my endeavours, hold me excused ; for
you may be sure my heart is with you."

THE ABBEY SANCTUARY. 19^

"Enough !" said the queen. Then, lower-
ing- her voice, she added, " If you can win
over the Lord Hastings, you will do nie in-
finite service."

" It is in that hope that I leave you,
madame," replied Jane. "I have his pro-
mise. And now, farewell, madame. You
shall soon hear from me, and by some faith-
ful messen2:er."

With a low reverence to the queen, she
then joined Lord Hastings, who had watched
her narrowly during the interview.

From the cloisters they proceeded to the
great hall, Avhere Jane found one of her
servants, and gave directions that the house-
hold goods she had brought with her should
be taken back to the palace.

The outer gate of the Sanctuary was kept
constantly closed, and a strong guard placed
at it to prevent any attempt to violate the

19^ THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

asylum. Lord Hastings had been allowed
admittance, but his attendants were com-
pelled to remain outside.

Jane's heart smote her as she passed
through the gate, but she felt she must now
go on. Fate forced her to quit the Sanc-
tuary, and rush upon her doom.

Followed by his attendants, Lord Has-
tings conducted her to the palace.

All had been thrown into confusion by
the queen's sudden flight, but Jane's apart-
ments were undisturbed.

Having put her in possession of them,
and given orders that the same attention
should be paid to her as heretofore, Lord
Hastings retired.

^ntr of auoolt tlje §\i\%

23oo!i tDc ^txtlj.

LORD HASTINGS.

VOL. III.

SnO^IXG THE PEKFIDY OF ALICE EOEDHAII,

A FEW days after her return to the
palace, Jane, to her great surprise, received
a visit from her former confidante and com-
panion, Alice Fordham.

Highly indignant, she was about to order
the intruder's instant departure ; but Alice
threw herself on her knees, and made so
many protestations of regret for her con-
duct, that at length Jane foriiave her, and
allowed her to remain.

" I have behaved infamously to you,
0 2

196 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

Jane," said the treacherous friend; "but
I know the goodness of j^our heart, and
therefore ventured to present myself to
you. I still hope I may be able to serve
you."

" I never av anted a friend more than
now, Alice," said Jane ; " and if }>ou are
sincere in your professions of regard, you
can materially assist me."

" I have come with that intent," said
Alice. " I hope I shall be able to free you
from your worst enemj', the Lord Pro-
tector."

" You promise too much, Alice," remarked
Jane. " He is beyond your reach."

" 'Tis possible that a mortal blow can be
dealt by an unseen hand," said Alice.

" What mean you ?" cried Jane, looking
at her inquiringly.

LORD HASTINGS. I 97

" You have heard that a waxen fi2:ure
can be prepared by certain strong enchant-
ments, in the likeness of an enemy whom
we would destroy — so that, as the image
melts, our enemy Avill perish."

" I have heard of such a thing," replied
Jane; "but I have no faith in it. Nor,
if I believed in the sorcery, would I em-
ploy it."

" Here is an image of the Lord Pro-
tector," said Alice, producing a small waxen
iigure. " You may know whom it repre-
sents by the high shoulders, and even by
the features. I bought it from a witch, by
whom it was made, and who assures me it
will prove effectual. Pins are struck to the
heart, as you see. Try it."

" No," replied Jane ; " I will not resort
to witchcraft to rid myself of an enemy."

198 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

'• You are more scrupulous than the
queen," said Alice. " She and her mother,
the Duchess of Bedford, notoriously prac-
tised enchantments, and it has even been
said that you yourself brewed philters to
enthral the kins:."

"You could contradict that idle talk,
Alice," said Jane.

" Yes ; I know the sole magic you prac-
tised proceeded from your own fascinations ;
but I have heard some credulous people
affirm that you retained your power over
the king by spells. These persons declare
you are now employing the same arts upon
Lord Hastiiio's. 'Tis needless to defend
yourself to me. I am well aware that
Lord Hastino's has been Ions; enamoured
of you."

" Lord Hastin2:s never dared to breathe

LORD HASTINGS. 199

a Avorcl of love to me till after the king's
death," said Jane ; " and he is quite aware
that his suit is hopeless."

" Is that so?" remarked Alice, sceptically.
" Report afhrms the contrary. 'Tis said
that Lord Hastings has induced you to
quit the Sanctuar}', and has promised to
defend you against all your enemies, even
afrainst the Lord Protector."

o

"That is true," replied Jane. "Lord
Hastings has shown himself a devoted friend,
but nothino: more. I did not encourao;e
his suit, and he desisted. Since I re-
turned to tlie palace, I have only seen him
twice."

" You will see him to-day," said Alice.

" How know you this ?" asked Jane.

Alice smiled significantly.

" You will find I am right," she said. " I

2 00 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

perceive you are not inclined to take me
into your confidence, and I will not ask it.
But I am not to be duped."

'' I cannot allow this freedom, Alice,"
said Jane, coldly. " Our former familiarity
must not be renewed. I am not in the
mood for idle converse."

" Is that a hint you would have me go ?"
said the other.

"My spirits are not good. I am best
alone," rejoined Jane.

" You expect Lord Hastings, and want
to be rid of me," said Alice. " Nay, the
remark was made in jest."

" Such jests are not to my taste," said
Jane, sharply.

" Certes, j^ou are much changed," re-
joined Alice. " But no wonder ! The pre-
cariousness of your position naturally makes

LORD HASTINGS. 20I

you feel uneasy AVe shall meet again
sooner than you expect, and then you ma}''
regret that you have not been more gracious
to me. Adieu !"

During the foregoing colloquy, Alice had
contrived to slip the wax figure into a small
coffer that was standing on the table.

The treacherous act was unperceived by
Jane.

202 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

11.

now JANE WAS ARPvESTED AND TAKEN TO THE TOWER.

Later on in the day, Lord Hastings
made his appearance.

He looked greatly preoccupied ; and
after a OTeetini? had passed between him
and Jane, he said to her, " I am sorry I in-
duced you to quit the Sanctuar}^, and advise
you to return thither. I may no longer be
able to protect you. If Gloucester persists
in his present course, I shall be compelled
to declare against him ; and Lord Stanley,
the Archbishop of York, and the Bishop of

LORD HASTINGS. 203

Ely have come to a like determination. Not
only are we denied access to the young king
and tlie Duke of York, but we find they
are allowed very few attendants ; wliile the
Lord Protector has an unusual num1)er of
retainers, not only at the Tower, but at
Crosby House, where he entertains the Lord
Mayor and the citizens. The coronation,
Avhich ought to take place soon, is again
postponed. All this convinces me that the
Lord Protector has some ill design."

"Doubt it not, my lord," observed Jane.
" He means to seize his nephew's crown."

"That he shall never do, while I can
wield a sword," said Hastings. " I will lay
down mv life in defence of Kino; Edward's
sons. If remonstrances ftul, I will resort to
sterner means. To-morroY\% at tlie meetinsf
of the Council, I shall demand that the two

204 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

princes be brought before us ; and if the
Protector refuses compliance, I will slay
him with my own hand. Buckingham,
also, must die. Thus only can the safety
of the young princes be secured."

"Have I permission to impart your de-
sign to the queen, my lord?" said Jane.

" Breathe it not to any one !" replied
Hastings. "Absolute secrecy is required.
Gloucester is excessively vigilant, and has a
multitude of spies."

Just then he fancied he heard a sound,
and, suddenly starting up, he raised a fold
of arras.

But, quick as was the action, the listener
was gone, if there had been one there.

" 'Twas a false alarm," he said, as he re-
turned. " Had I been overheard, my plan
would have been ruined, and I should lose

LORD HASTINGS. 205

iny head. Having explained to you tlie
perilous game I am playing, I will now take
my departure. Should success crown my
attempt, we shall soon meet again. If not,
we part for ever. Meanwhile, follow my
advice, and return to the Sanctuary."

For some time after the departure of
Lord Hastings, Jane continued occupied in
anxious reflection, for she could not dis-
guise from herself the extreme hazard of
the attempt.

She then summoned a female attendant,
and directed her to pack up a few articles
of wearing a[>parel and some other matters
that she wished to take with her to the
Sanctuary.

These preparations were soon made, and
the handmaiden had just brought in a little
valise containinir the articles in Question,

2o6 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

when the door was thrown open, and, to
Jane's great alarm. Sir William Catesby
entered with an officer.

Half a dozen halberdiers could be seen
standing in the gallery outside.

" Madame," said Catesby, " I have a dis-
agreeable duty to perform. I am sent by
the Lords of the Council to arrest you, and
convey you to the Tower."

"With what offence am I charged, sir?"
she demanded.

With conspiring, by certain magical prac-
tices, to injure and destroy the Lord Pro-
tector," replied Catesby.

Jane then saw the imprudence she had
committed in holding any converse with
Alice Fordham, but she unhesitatingly re-
plied, " The charge is false."

" I hope it may turn out so, madame,"

LORD HASTINGS. ^07

said Catesb3\ "My injunctions are to make
search for anything tending to prove your
criminality."

He then signed to the officer, who pro-
ceeded at once to the table, and, after a
moment's pretended search, opened the coffer
and discovered the wax figure.

Taking it forth, he brought it to his
leader.

" Here is proof against you, madamc,"
said Catesby. " There can be no doubt that
this is an image of the Lord Protector."

" And equally certain that its object is
maleficent," said the officer.

" 'Tis a plot against my life, contrived by
Alice Fordham," cried Jane.

"You must convince the Council of
that," said Catesby.

'• I do not expect to convince them," re-

2o8 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

turned Jane, " because they are prejudiced
against me, and ready to decide as the Lord
Protector may enjoin."

" Such language will not serve you,
madame," said Catesby. " You must now
to the Tower witli me. You are at liberty
to take a female attendant with you, and
any apparel you may require."

" I am ready to attend you, sir," said
Jane. " That trunk contains all I need.
You will go with me, Miriam," she added,
to her handmaiden, who was weeping
bitterly.

" I will go with you to death, madame,"
replied Miriam.

" Nay, I trust all will go well," said Jane.
" Thou canst prove that I practise no magic
arts."

" I can, madame," said the handmaiden,
earnestly.

LORD HASTINGS. 209

Jane and her attendant were then con-
ducted by a private way to the palace stairs,
where a covered boat was waiting, in which
they were conve^'ed to tlie Tower.

Arrived there, Jane was at once taken
to the large chamber in the AVhite Tower^
where the Council was sitting at the time.

VOL. III.

2 1C THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

III.

IlO-Vr JAXE WAS EROUGIIT BEFOKE THE LOKD PROTECTOU
AND THE COUNCIL.

In that unrivalled hall, in the uppermost
story of the White Tower, where consulta-
tions on matters of imiport to the State were
then held, the chief members of the Council
were assembled.

From the massive wooden pillars sup-
porting the roof of this vast and lofty
apartment, heavy tapestry of a sombre hue
was hung, so as completely to surround the
Council table, and prevent the discussions

LORD HASTINGS. 2 1 I

there carried on from being overheard by
any but privileged officers.

At the head of the Council board sat the
Lord Protector, magnificently robed.

On his right was the Cardinal Archbishop
of Canterbury ; on the left the Archbishop
of York. The Duke of Buckingham, the
Bishop of Ely, Lord Stanley, and several
other nobles, were present, but Lord Has-
tings did not occupy his customary seat at
the table.

Before these personages Jane was brought
by Catesby and the officer, after being led
tlirough a long gallery filled with armed
men ; and when she looked around, and
saw the stern countenances fixed upon her,
her heart sank, and she felt ready to faint.

Bv a great efi'ort, however, she recovered
her composure, and after making a pro-
p 2

1 1 2 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

found reverence to the Council, waited to
be interrogated.

'' Bring the woman somewhat nearer to
me !" cried the Lord Protector, in a stern
voice.

And as the order was obeyed, and Jane
came forward, he said :

" Art thou not afraid to look me in the
face, after the grievous bodily harm thou
hast done me?"

Nothing daunted by his fierce glances,
Jane replied :

" I can regard you steadfastl}', my lord,
and declare before Heaven that I have
never injured you."

" Let this sight confound thee, then !" he
cried, drawing up the sleeve of his doublet,
and displaying his left arm, the skin of
which was shrivelled, and j^ellow as parch-

LORD HASTINGS. 213

inent. " This mischief has been done me
by i\\y enchantments, and had I not dis-
covered the cause, my whole body would
have been wasted and dried up."

A slight murmur pervaded the assem-
bla2;e.

"My lord." said Jane, firmly, "the king,
your brother, told me that your left arm
was thus, blighted from your birth, and
several here present must be aware of the
circumstance. His Grace of Buckingham
can testify to it, if he will."

"I have heard the Lord Protector say
that his arm had become strangely shrunken
of late," observed Buckingham ; " and I
told his highness that the injury must be
caused by witchcraft.*'

"Ay, and thou art the witch who hast
wrought the mischief!" cried Gloucester,

2 14 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

casting a severe look at Jane. " I sus-
pected thee, because I know that by
philters and love -potions the king, my
brother, was held in thy power."

"Were King Edward living, you had not
dared to accuse me thus, my lord," replied
Jane, courageously. " He Avould have de-
fended me from the false charge !"'

"Thy effrontery is matchless, but it will
not avail thee," said Gloucester. " Proof
can be given of thy magic practices."

" It can, my lord," observed Catesby,
pressing forward. " This figure of your
highness, evidently prepared by sorcery,
and pierced to the heart by pins, as you see,
has just been found in a coffer in Mistress
Shore's room."

All glances were directed towards the
figure, which was laid on the Council table
by Catesby.

LORD HASTINGS. 215

"This figure, you say, was found in Mis-
tress Shore's room. Sir William?"' de-
inanded Gloucester.

"Scarce two hours ago, my lord,'" replied
Catesby.

"They who hide can find," said Jane.
" She by Avhom the figure was fabricated
placed it where it could not fail to be dis-
covered. 'Tis a device to destroy me."

"Contrived by whom?" said Bucking-
ham.

"By Alice Fordham," replied Jane.

"Alice Fordham is here," observed the
duke. " Let her be brou^'ht before us."

Alice was introduced ; but though she
maintained a bold deportment, she did not
look towards Jane.

Questioned by the Duke of Buckingham,
she denied that she had hidden the magic
figure, but asserted that Jane had shown it

2l6 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

to iier, and declared that by means of it
she could destroy tlie Lord Protector.

By this statement, which was very con-
fidently made, a certain impression was
made on the Council,

It must be remembered that at this time
a belief in witchcraft was universally enter-
tained, and few were free from supersti-
tion.

" You swear to the truth of what you
have stated?" said Buckingham.

" Solemnly," replied Alice. " I have long
known that Mistress Shore is a sorceress.
Moreover, a far greater lady has been her
associate in these dark practices."

" Dost hint at the queen, mistress ?" de-
manded Gloucester. " Speak plainly."

" Your highness has said it," replied
Alice.

LORD HASTINGS. '11 J

" 'Ti6 Utterly false,'* cried June. " This
monstrous accusation will obtain credit from
no one."

"I credit it !" thundered Gloucester. " I
believe that thou hast conspired with ray
brother's wife to destroy me by Avitcheraft,
since slie can reach me in no other way.
With this wicked intent didst thou join her
in the Abbey Sanctuary, and there thy
malignant spells were wrought."

" I care not to defend myself, my lord !"
said Jane. " Believe me guilty if you will,
but I v.'ill lift up my voice for the queen,
since none other in this assemblage will
speak for her. If she could subtly and cer-
tainly have destroyed j'our highness, as you
assert, would she have delivered up her
youngest son to you ? Would she not
rather have Avaited the result of the secret

2l8

THE GOLDSMITH'S JVIFI

blow ? The Lord Cardinal, and other lords
here present, Avitnessed her anguish, and
know that she never expected to behold
her son ngain. AYould she have had this
fear if she had felt certain of your destruc-
tion ? I trow not."

" I'll hear no more !" cried Gloucester,
impatiently. " I cannot reach your partner
in crime, but I will have you burned as a
witch."

" I pray your highness to suspend your
■judgment," interposed Lord Stanley. " The
witness against this unhappy lady is utterly
unworthy of credit. She is actuated by
vindictive feelings, and has herself been
guilty of criminal practices, as I will show.
Bring in that monk who waits without," he
added, to the officer.

Immediately afterv\'ards, a Franciscan

LORD HASTINGS. 2 19

friar was introduced. His cowl was thrown
back, so that his palUd features could be
seen.

On his appearance a manifest change was
produced in Alice's demeanour, but Jane
looked wistfully at him.

" What hast thou to state respecting
Alice Fordhani, father?" demanded Lord
Stanley.

" I could state much as to her falsehood
and treachery towards her generous friend,"
replied the friar. "But it may suffice to
say that she stole from ]\Iistress Shore a
warrrant for ten thousand marks, and in-
tended to appropriate the amount to her-
self, but I forced her to give up the money,
and took it back to its rightful owner."

" 'Tis a large sum !" exclaimed Gloucester.
" It cannot all have been spent ?"

220 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

" Xone of it has been spent by me, my
lord," replied Jane, to whom the question
was addressed. " The whole sum has been
handed over to the queen."

" My lord," said Lord Stanley, " we are
all agreed that no credit can be attached to
the evidence of Alice Fordham, and our
sentence upon her is imprisonment for the
offence she has committed."

*' As yet we know not the name of her
accuser," said Gloucester. " How art thou
called?" he added, to the friar.

" In bygone days I ^vas known as Albau
Shore," replied the monk.

The answer caused general astonishment.

" Then thou art this woman's husband !"
said Gloucester. "Dost thou not ask for
her punishment?"

" No. my lord," replied Shore.

LORD HASTINGS. 22 1

" But she shall be punished cried Glou-
cester; "if not for sorcery, for inconti-
nency ! Take her hence," he added to the
officers. " Lodge her in some prison within
the Tower, till I see fit to deliver her to the
Bishop of London for punishment."

" What is to be done with Alice Ford-
ham, my lord ?" inquired Catesby.

"Let her likewise be imprisoned," replied
the Lord Protector.

Ere she was removed, Jane looked to-
wards Shore, and found his gaze fixed com-
passionately upon her.

222 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

IV.

PRESAGES OF ILL.

On that day Lord Hastings did not attend
the Council at the Tower, but remained in
his magnificent mansion on the banks of
the Thames, and occupied himself in pre-
parations for the morrow.

He did not retire to rest till late, but
about an hour after midnight he was roused
from his slumbers by an attendant, who
told him Lord Stanley was Avithout, and
desired immediate speech with him.

Surprised and alarmed, Hastings sprang

LORD HASTINGS. 223

from his couch, and, puttmg- on a loose
gown, caused his untimely visitor to be
introduced.

The expression of Lord Stanley's counte-
nance prepared him for some direful com-
munication.

" I have had a remarkable dream to-
night," said Stanley, " and it has produced
so strong an effect upon me that I have
come to relate it to your lordsliip. It con-
cerns you as well as myself.

" Methou<2;ht we were huntins: the wild
boar in a forest that was entirely strange to
me. The huntsmen were gone, and the
hounds had fled. Both our horses were
killed, but we continued the chase on foot.
Suddenly the boar turned upon us. We
struck him repeatedly with our spears, but
he appeared invulnerable. After a short

22 4 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

conflict you were trampled beneath the in-
furiated animal's fQQ,t., and I saw his tusks
pierce your side. You were bathed in
blood. In vain I strove to assist you. I
was thrown down likewise, and gored, and,
with a sharp pang, I awoke."

" How do you interpret this dream ?" re-
marked Hastings, after a brief pause.

" Thus, my lord," replied Stanley. "The
wounds and blood signify danger of life to
both of us. The boar is Gloucester's cogni-
sance, and plainly denotes from whom the
danger is to be apprehended. I shall not
remain within his reach, I have ordered
my horses, and shall set out forthwith to
join my friends in tlie North, and I counsel
your lordship to come with me and place
yourself in safety."

"I thank you for the warning," said

LORD HASTINGS. 225

Hastings, " and though I own the dream is
most surprising, and well calculated to cause
alarm, it does not give me much uneasiness,
nor will it turn me from my purpose. In-
stead of goring us, the boar, 1 hope, may
be slain. But if you have any misgiving, I
would not have you stay. Take horse as
you design, and depart forthwith. You
must, however, consider that your sudden
flight will rouse suspicion, and unless the
boar be struck to the heart he may find
means of goring you, even at a distance."

"'I cannot shake off my fears," said
Stanley. '* Nevertheless, I agree with you
that flight may not insure safety, but per-
haps endanger it, and I will, therefore,
tarry for the Council to-morrow."

"'Tis the best and boldest course," said
Hastings. " You may be of infinite service

VOL. II r. Q

226 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

to the young king. Let all your retainers
wait for you on Tower Hill ; they may be
needed."

Stanley then departed, and Hastings re-
turned to his couch ; but not to sleep, for
he had been made restless by this nocturnal
visit.

I^Text morning, after he had breakfasted,
he was preparing to set out for the Tower,
and intended to take with him a large party
of armed men, and leave them outside the
fortress, when Sir Thomas Howard, son of
Lord Howard, and a member of Glouces-
ter's cabinet, made his appearance, and in-
terfered with the plan.

On inquiring why Sir Thomas had come
at such an early hour, Hastings was told
that he had been sent by the Lord Pro-
tector.

LORD HASTINGS. 227

"His highness feared that your lordship
might not attend the Council to-day, and
having important business to despatch, he
ordered me to fetch you."

" I will follow shortly," said Hastings.

" iNay, my lord ; I will wait," rejoined
Sir Thomas. " His hio-hness bade me brino-

Finding he could not get rid of his
troublesome visitor without causinj^: mis-
trust, Hastings gave some private orders to
his men, and set out on horseback with his
enforced companion.

Sir Thomas had two grooms with him,
and they appeared extremely watchful. As
Lord Hastings rode past Blackfriars, his
horse stumbled, and again in Eastcheap,
and on the second occasion the rider was
nearly thrown.

q2

228 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

" Were not your lordship the most fortu-
nate of men, I should say these mischances
are unlucky," observed Sir Thomas.

Hastings made no reply ; but continued
thoughtful till they approached the Tower.

On looking towards the spot where he
had enjoined Stanley to station his men,
he could not perceive them, nor did he see
any concourse of citizens as he had ex-
pected. If a crowd had been collected on
Tower Hill, it must have been dispersed.

But he was still further discouraged when,
on reaching the barbican, he found the
guard doubled, while the outer walls were
thronged with armed men.

Not without misgiving did he cross the
drawbridge, and pass through the gate.

On inquiry, he learned that Lord Stan-
ley had already arrived, and that the Arch-
bishop of York and the Bishop of Ely had

LORD HASTINGS. 229

just landed at Tower Stairs, and proceeded
to the Council chamber.

Every precaution to repress a tumult
seemed to have been taken. A company of
archers was drawn up in the lower ward^
and a large party of arquebusiers was col-
lected in the inner court.

Had any discover}^ been made ? This
Hastings wished to know, yet feared to
ask. The preparations he beheld con-
vinced him that his project must be aban-
doned.

Havino; dismounted near the Garden
Tower, Hastino-s was marchins; with his.

Jo o

companions towards the palace gate, when
he was stepped by a Franciscan friar, who
besought a word witii him in private.

"What would you, holy father?" in-
quired Hastings.

" Turn back, if it be possible, my son."

230 THE GOLDSMITH'S IVIFE.

replied the monk, in a low voice, calculated
not to reacli the ear of Sir Thomas Howard,
who was standing at a little distance. '" I
would have warned you, but I have not
been able to quit the Tower/'

" 'Tis too late to turn back now, good
father, even if there be danger," rejoined
Hastings. '' But why are these preparations
made ?"'

"The Lord Protector suspects some plot
against himself, my lord," replied the monk.

" Ha I Is it so ?"' cried Hastino^s.

" Know you v.hat happened yesterday?"
inquired the monk.

" Speak ! Keep me not in suspense !*'
said Hastings.

"^listress Shore was arrested and im-
prisoned in the Beauchamp Tower," replied
the friar.

LORD HAS TIXGS. ^31

" Mistress Shore imprisoned !*' exclaimed
Hastino^. " I thouorht she had returned to
the Sanctuary. TTith what crime is she
charged ?"'

Before the monk could make any reply.
Sir Thomas Howard interposed and said :

'• My lord I doubt not the Lord Pro-
tector is impatiently expecting you. You
cannot have much to say to this holy man.
You have no occasion for a priest as yet!"
he added, significantly."

"Then }ou think I may need one pre-
sently ?" observed Hastings.

" Xay, my lord ; I said not so,"' rejoined
Sir Thomas.

" Act on the hint, good father, and wait,"
said Hastings.

232 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE,

V.

now LOUD IIASTIKGS AVAS BEHEADED ON TOWER GREEN.

On entering the Council chamber, Has-
tings found all the members assembled —
the only seat vacant being his own, which
was situated at the upper end of the table,
on the left of the Lord Protector.

" Soil ! you are come at length, my lord ?"
cried Gloucester, in a fierce tone. " You
have kept us waiting !"

'' I trust I have caused no needless dela}'',
my lord," replied Hastings. '" I learn that
the Council has not yet been called upon to
deliberate on any matter of import. Before

LORD HASTINGS. 233

we proceed further, I have a proposition to
make, to which, I persuade myself, your
highness Avill incline a favourable ear. Of
late, there have been many disquieting-
rumours within the City of London, which
have produced great agitation among the
populace, as your highness must be aware ;
but these murmurs can be speedily quelled,
if the young king be taken from the
Tower, where, methinks, he has been too
long shut up, and shown to his loving sub-
jects. I, therefore, propose that such a
course, which, for the reasons I have given,
I deem highly judicious, be adopted, and
that the young king and his brother, the
Duke of York, be forthwith exhibited to the
citizens."

" AVe do not deem it expedient to carry
out your suggestion, my lord," said Glou-

234 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

cester. " Our royal nephews are safest
within the Tower, and we shall not suffer
them to go forth, even at your earnest soli-
citation."

" But will not your highness listen to
the recommendation of the Council?" said
Hastings.

" The vote of the Council has not yet
been taken, my lord, and would be against
you, I am persuaded," rejoined Gloucester.
" But why this sudden change of opinion?
Till now you have judged it best that the
young king should remain secluded, with
his brother, till the coronation. Have you
been instigated to make this request by
the queen ? If so, I can understand the
motive."

" I have held no communication with the
queen, my lord," replied Hastings. " Her

LORD HASTINGS. 235

majesty has no liking for mc, neither have
I any affection for her."

" But you have conspired -with Mistress
Shore, who is in the queen's confidence."

" Your highness wronirs me !" cried
Hastings."

" You have conspired, I say, witli that
sorceress against my life !" roared Glou-
cester. " Had not your treasonable design
been revealed to me, I should infallibly
have been your victim. Your purpose was
to stab me where I sit, and next bathing
your steel in Buckingham's life-blood, to
seize upon the two young princes. 'Tis use-
less to deny it, for there is one here who
overheard you."

"Who is my accuser?" demanded Has-
tings.

" I am, my lord," replied Catesby, step-

236 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

ping forward. " Learn, to your confusion,
that I was behind the arras when you dis-
closed your design to Mistress Shore!"

" Now thou seest how I became ac-
quainted Avith thy villany !" cried Glou-
cester.

" Your purpose was to slay the Lord Pro-
tector and the Duke of Buckingham at the
Council table, and then take upon you the
government of the young king and the
kingdom," pursued Catesby. " But Heaven
would not suffer such an evil scheme to
prosper."

"Dost thou hear, traitor? — dost thou
hear?" cried Gloucester.

At this juncture, several members of the
Council, who had hitherto been kept silent
by astonishment and alarm, rose to their
feet.

LORD HASTINGS. 237

Gloucester, however, would allow no in-
terference, but struck his hand violently
twice or thrice upon the table.

At this signal, several halberdiers rushed
in, and, by the Lord Proteclor's orders,
seized Hastings, who offered no resistance.

Lord Stanley, however, came to the
assistance of his friend, but received a
severe wound in the head, and fell beneath
the table. By the direction of Catesby,
who conducted these proceedings, the
Archbishop of York and the Bishop of Ely
M'ere next arrested, and these measures
caused the greatest consternation among
the Council.

" What shall be done witli this heinous
offender, my lord?" said Catesby, pointing
to Hastings, who remained in custody- of
the guard.

238 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

" I will not ask my life," said the ill-fated
noble, with dignity. " I am well convinced
your highness will not spare me, either
for old friendship or for service rendered
you."

" Thou hast forfeited all claim upon me,"
rejoined Gloucester, in an inexorable tone.
" Take him forth," he added. " Let him
make a short shrift, if he will. By Saint
Paul ! I will not dine till I have had his
head !"

The unfortunate Hastings was then hur-
ried away, lest his looks should excite
compassion among the members of the
Council.

Dragged by his guards along the gallery
at the side of the Council chamber^ he was
forced down a spiral stone staircase to the
guard chamber, whence, without even allow-

LORD HASTINGS. 239

ing a momentary halt, lie "was taken fcrtli
upon the green, and led towards Saint
Peter's Chapel.

Catesby, Avitli his sword drawn, marclied
at a little distance behind the doomed man,
but not a word passed between them.

Close to the sacred edifice lav a loo- of
wood, intended for repairs. Beside this
piece of timber, and showing that some
preparations had been made for the execu-
tion, stood two figures. These were the
Franciscan friar with whom Hastings had
recently spoken, and the headsman.

The latter, who was leaning upon his
axe, was a strongly-built, savage-looking
personage, with brawny arms bared to the
shoulder. He wore a buff jerkin and a
leatlier apron, and had a leather cap on
his head.

240 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

'■' Make the most of your time, my lord,"
said Catesby, advancing. " Many minutes
cannot be allowed you."

He then retired; and Hastings threw
liimself at the feet of the monk, who held
the crucifix towards him.

" Have you aught to confess to me, my
son?" inquired the monk.

^' Alas ! good father," cried Hastings,
'' had I as many hours left as I have
minutes, I could not enumerate half my
sins I

" Do not despair, my son," replied the
monk. " Do you forgive all your enemies,
<}ven him who has brought you to this
terrible strait ?"

" Even him," replied Hastings ; " and I
pray earnestly that all those I have injured
may forgive me."

LORD HASTINGS. 24*

" Since your repentance, though late, is
deep and sincere, I grant you absolution,"
replied the monk. " By the power derived
from holy Peter, I will loose and deliver
you from all j'our sins, known and un-
known, mortal and venial. Wherefore,
raise up your heart to Heaven ! Accept of
the penance of death as due to your sins^
and trust in Divine mercy."

" I do so implicitly, father," replied Has-
tings, fervently. " May Heaven be merciful
to me, a sinner !"

" Amen !*' exclaimed the monk.

" Are you ready, my lord ?" observed the
headsman, receiving an impatient sign from
Catesby. " Time grows short."

Divesting himself of his richly- embroi-
dered mantle, Hastings threw it on the
ground.

VOL. III. R

242 THE GOLDSMITHS WIFE.

" Take that as thy fee, fellow !" he said.

" Kneel clown, my lord !" said the grim
headsman, pointing to the rude block.

Hastings obeyed, and his head was
stricken oif by a single blow.

A cry from a windoAv in the Beaiichamp
Tower showed that Jane had witnessed the
terrible incident.

" Wrap this ghastly relic in a napkin,"
said Catesby to the headsman, " and take it
to the Lord Protector. He has sworn not
to dine till it be brouHit him !"

lEnti of 3^ooI{ tl3£ ^\rd).

23oofe if)t ^cbcntl).

THE PENANCE.

R 2

I.

OF THE ATTE:>IPT MADE BY DOKSET TO DELIVER THE
YOUNG PRINCES FROM THE TOWER.

The death of Hastings, and the imprison-
ment of Lord Stanley, the Archbishop of
York, and the Bishop of Ely, struck such
terror into the few remaining adherents of
the young princes, that no further attempt
was made to oppose Gloucester's daring
design.

The crown was shortly afterwards pub-
licly offered him by Buckingham, before a
large assemblage, at Baynard's Castle, and

246 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

accepted with feigned reluctance, amid
shouts of "Lono; live Richard the Third!"

The treasures amassed by his roj-al
brother were next seized upon, and appro-
priated to his own use, or bestowed on his
favourites.

The ceremonies prepared for his nephew
were destined to serve his own turn, and
the usurper's coronation took place, Avitli
great splendour, in Westminster Abbey.

But though he had attained the summit
of his ambition, he could not feel secure
while his nephews lived. Some rising would
infallibly be made in their favour thst
might hurl him from the throne, and set
up Edward the Fifth in his stead. Already,
Buckingham, who had helped to raise him,
was discontented, and no more formidable
leader of a rebellion could be found.

THE PENANCE. 1^7

The pretext would infallibly be, " Kinir
Edward's children.'' That cry must never
be heard. It was useless to shut up his
nephews in the Tower. They would escape,
or be set free. No : they must be removed
by death, as all others who stood in his way
had been removed. But the manner of
tlieir death must be mysterious and inex-
plicable. None, save the perpetrators of
the deed, must know how they perished.

Having formed his fatal determination,
the usurper resolved to carry it out. To
this end he deemed it best to absent himself
for a while from London, hoping by such
means to avoid suspicion ; and he therefore
set out on a progress to York, and journeyed
as far as Gloucester, where he halted, the
distance from London beinsf suitable to his
Avicked desi2:n.

248 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

Meanwhile, his intended victims con-
tinued prisoners in the Tower, and occu-
pied two or three rooms situated at the
rear of the palace, and looking upon the
Privy Garden.

All their pages and attendants had been
dismissed, and only one person, Dighton,
the warder, was allowed to wait upon
them.

Subdued by this harsh treatment, the
young King Edward the Fifth, as he had
once been styled, almost, it now seemed,
in mockery, became very melancholy, and
neglected his attire, and, though he uttered
few complaints, it was evident he was pin-
ing away.

The little Duke of York, however, ma-
naged to keep up his spirits, and endea-
voured to cheer his brother ; but not even

THE PENANCE. 249

his lively sallies could bring a smile to
Edward's pale face.

One day, when the unfortunate young
prince was seated in a large arm-chair, in
a listless posture, and looking very pensive
and very sad, the Duke of York came be-
hind him, and, putting his arms round his
neck, said :

"Prithee, tell me your thoughts, sweet
brother."

" I was thinking how much happier I
should be if I had not been born a prince,
Richard. Had I not the misfortune ta be
a king's son, I should be at liberty — able to
do as I please, and go where I list. I should
provoke no man's jealousy. And thou,
sweet brother, art equally unfortunate."

" I would not renounce my birthright if
Gloucester would set me free on that con-

250 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

dition," rejoined the Duke of York. '• Do
not despair, brother ; you may yet sit upon
the throne."

"Never!" replied Edward. "I shall
never reign, nor wilt thou ! We are doomed.
The sins of our fathers will be visited upon
us. Listen to me, brother," he continued
solemnly. "All the descendants of Edmond
Langiey, chief of the House of York, have
died a violent or premature death. Our
great-grandsire, Edward, Duke of York, was
slain at the battle of Azincour. Richard,
Earl of Cambridge, his brother, lost his
head upon the scaiFold. Our graiidsire,
Richard, Duke of York, and his son, Ed-
mond, Duke of Rutland, perished at Wake-
field. Our uncle, the Duke of Clarence,
was murdered here, in the Tower. The
king, our father, died before his time; and

THE PENANCE. 25 I

'tis said," he added, lowering his voice,
" that he died by poison. Shall ^^e escape
Divine vengeance — we, who belong to the
fourth generation ? I fear not, brother — I
fear not !"

" But we have committed no crime !"
said Richard.

'' Our fathers have sinned, and we must
suffer, as I have just pointed out,"' rejoined
Edward. " AYe ought not to repine."

" Xevertiieless, I hnd the confinement in
these rooms very irksome," observed Ri-
chard. " I would get out of the Tower if
an opportunity offered. But we are too
closely wotched by Dighton. He will not
even let us take exercise in the Privy
Garden, or in the court. He says it is
against the king's order. Why, you are the
kinir, brother !"

252 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

"Alas! no; I am deposed," said Edward.

" If Gloucester is an instrument of
Heaven, he must be a scourge," observed
Richard. " But I think he is an agent of
the Prince of Darkness. When the king
our father lived, Gloucester did not dare
raise his hand against us, and now he treats
us thus infamously. But we will repay
him."

"Peace, brother!" cried Edward.

" I cannot hold my peace. I am too
greatly incensed," rejoined Richard. " I
would tax Gloucester with cruelty and
treachery to his face, if he came near us."

" Have a care, brother !" said Edward, as
a noise Avas heard at the door. " Here
comes Dighton with our repast."

" Dighton is the tool of a tyrant!" cried
Richard, determined that the warder should
hear him.

THE PENANCE. 253

But it was not Digliton who entered.

It was a tall youn^^ man, habited pre-
cisely like the warder, but much taller,
and differing in feature and manner. He
brought with him a basket containing a few
eatables and bread, which he placed on the
table.

While he was thus occupied, the two
young princes stared at him, as if doubting
the evidence of their senses.

At 'length they both sprang towards him,
calling out, " 'Tis Dorset — our brother
Dorset !" and flung themselves into his wel-
coming arms.

Yes ; it was the Marquis of Dorset in that
strano;e diso-uise.

" You need not be told that I have ven-
tured here in the hope of liberating you,"
said Dorset, as soon as he had extricated
himself from their embrace. " If Heaven

^54 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

prospers my undertaking, you shall both be
out of Gloucester's power to-night."

" So soon !" exclaimed Richard, clapping
his hands joyfully.

" Calm yourself, brother!" said Ed\vard.
'' Let us hear Dorset's plan."

" The attempt would never have been
made but for the queen's entreaties," said
the marquis. " But I could not resist her
pra3^ers, and yesterday ventured forth from
the Sanctuary on this perilous errand. At
the very onset there was danger, for the
Sanctuary is now surrounded by armed
men, to prevent all egress and ingress ;
but I escaped. After making all needful
arrangements for your flight, I contrived
to gain admittance to the Tower, and, by
promise of a large reward, purchased the
assistance of your attendant," Dighton. I
have thus gained access to you. To-night

THE PENANCE. '2'$$

a boat will be outside the Tower wharf,
ATaitiniz to carry off two fuiritives. You
will l)oth, I trust, be on the wharf at mid-
night— will both be placed on board the
boat and conveyed in safety to West-
minster— and thence, despite all difficulties,
to the Sanctuary, where you will be clasped
to the queen's anxious breast."

" That thought gives me fresh energy,"
said Edward. " I never hoped to behold the
queen and my sisters again. But how are
we to reach the wharf, my lord ?"

" I vrill conduct you thither," replied
Dorset. " Hold yourselves in readiness for
my appearance. At the appointed hour I
Avill come to you ; and then, if all goes
well, }'ou shall be quickly free from con-
straint, and as quickly restored to the
queen."

" Heaven deliver us from our uncle Glou-

256 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

cester ! That shall be my fervent prayer
to-night !" said Richard.

Bidding them be careful what they said
to Dighton, should the warder visit them,
Dorset then took his departure.

THE PENANCE. 1S7

II.

HOW THE ATTEMPT PAILED.

As may well be supposed, the interven-
ing hours seemed to pass very slowly with
the youthful prisoners — especially with the
Duke of York, whose disposition was ex-
ceedingly impatient. They did nothing but
talk of the queen and the princesses, their
sisters, and of the expected joyful meeting
with them, Alas ! it was destined never to
take place.

In the evening, Dighton brought them
supper, and lighted their lamp, and they

VOL. III. s

258 THE GOLDSMITH'S V/IFE.

tliougiit he regarded them wistfully, but in
compliance with Dorset's injunctions, they
did not address him, and he soon went
away.

Nothing further occurred. After awhile,
they grew tired of talking, and Richard fell
asleep on his brother's shoulder, and slum-
bered on thus till near midnight, when Ed-
ward, who had counted the hours by the
bell, thought it best to wake him.

Scarcely had he done so, when the door
opened, and Dorset came in.

" Are you ready ?" he asked.

" Quite ready !" they both replied.

After extinguishing the lamp — for Dorset
being well acquainted with the place, did
not require a light — they v/ent forth, and
tracked a long, dark corridor.

No guard appeared to be stationed there^

THE PENANCE. 259

nor could any light be seen, or sound
heard. But Dorset easily discovered a
short spiral staircase communicating with
the Privy Garden.

Taking a hand of each, Dorset then led
them noiselessly across the garden. Fortu-
nately, the night was profoundly dark, so
there was small chance of discovery.

Presently they came to a postern con-
structed in the hioh stone wall surrounding;
the garden, and Dorset having cautiously
unlocked this door, they issued forth into
the outer ward, almost opposite the Cradle
Tower.

Again the darkness screened them from
the observation of the sentinels, if there
were any on the walls.

At that time a vaulted gateway connected
with the tower just mentioned, led to a
s 2

i6o

THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

narrow drawbridge, which was defended by
a strong iron gate.

Through the instrumentality, doubtless,
of Dighton, the little drawbridge was noAV
lowered, and the gate open, and in another
minute the youthful princes and their con-
ductor had crossed the moat, and were
standing safely upon the Avharf, with the
darkling river flowing past them.

At last they were out of the Tower, and
escape seemed now certain.

Richard could hardly repress his tran-
sports of delight, and even Edward felt
elated.

They all flew to the edge of the wharf,
resolved not to lose an instant in springing
on board; but how dreadfully were their
expectations crushed, when no boat could
be descried !

THE PENANCE. 26 I

Dorset still hoped the boat would come.
But the risk of discovery would be infinitely
increased by delay, and he looked back in
terror, and listened anxiously for any alarm-
ing sound from the walls.

Again he plunged his gaze into the dark-
ness— hoping, praying, that the boat might
appear. But it came not.

A slight fog hung upon the river, and
this added to the obscurity. Sounds were
heard in the distance, but nothin": could be
distinguished.

During this severe trial, the sensations
of the unfortunate young princes almost
amounted to agony, but they uttered no
reproaches,

Edward stood quite still, though trem-
bling in spite of himself ; but Richard seized
Dorset's hand, and said :

262 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

" Brother, do not let them take us back
to the Tovrer."

''What can I do?" rejoined Dorset, dis-
tractedly. " What can I do ?"

Just then a sound was heard that annihi-
lated all hope, if any had remained.

The alarm bell was rung in the palace,
and shouts resounded alonof the walls.

Almost instantaneously, as it seemed,
torches were brought to the summit of the
Traitor's Tower, and tliese cast a lurid lio;ht
upon the river, and disclosed the youthful
fugitives standing upon the wharf, while
loud shouts arose from the guard, who were
armed with arquebuses. They did not fire,
for they had recognised the young princes ;
but they ordered them not to stir.

At the same time, armed men, provided
with torches, could be seen hurrying

Tim PENANCE. '2.67,

tlirongh the archway of the Portcullis
Tower into the outer ward, and shouts
were exchanged between this party and the
arquebusiers on Traitor's Tower, from
Vv'hich the former learnt tliat the fugitives
were on the wharf, whereupon Sir Robert
Brakenbury, who was with the party, has-
tened ill that direction.

Seeing that capture was inevitable, Dorset
consulted for a moment with the young
princes, who approved his design, and
bidding them, as it proved, an eternal adieu,
he ran to the edge of the wharf, and
plunged into the river.

Surprised by this desperate step, the
arquebusiers, who took him from his garb
to be a warder, instantly fired, but none of
the shots took effect, and he swam rapidly
down the current.

264 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

Next moment, Sir Eobert Brakenbury,
followed by a dozen halberdiers, appeared
on the wharf.

It was a very affecting sight as the young
princes surrendered themselves to the lieu-
tenant. Brakenbury made fcAV observations
at the time, putting no questions to them as
to their escape, and forbore even to ask the
name of the individual who had plunged
into the river.

Very respectfully, and with a sad ex-
pression of countenance, he conducted the
princes back to their apartments in the
palace, deferring all investigation until the
morrow, and only giving orders that the
guard should be doubled.

THE PENANCE. 265

III.

IN ■WHAT MANNEK THE YOUNG PUINCES WEKE PUT TO
DEATH IN THE GARDEN TOWER.

King Richard the Third was at War-
wick Castle when he received intelligence
of the attempt to liberate the young princes,
and he resolved no longer to delay their
destruction.

Already he had sent a confidential mes-
senger to Brakenbury with a letter enjoin-
ing him to make away secretly with the
prisoners, but the lieutenant refused to obey
the order.

Richard was therefore obliired to find an-

^66

THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

other agent, and after some consideration,
lie chose Sir James Tyrrell, one of his
retinue, whom he knew to be bold and un-
scrupulous.

Tempted by the promises of immediate
reward and future preferment, Tyrrell ac-
cepted the dreadful task without hesitation,
and set out at once for the Tov/er, fur-
nished with an order from the kins; to the
lieutenant.

On his arrival, he had a private con-
ference with Brakenbury.

.The lieutenant again refused to be acces-
sory to any secret murder, and said :

''Mv soul revolts a^^ainst the deed, and
if I could prevent it I would; but I am
powerless, as joii know. On your head,
and not on mine, be the blood of these
innocents !"

THE PENANCE. ^67

Ijrrell did not seem to lieed the abhor-
rence with ^vhich his fell desi<^'n M'as re-
garded by the lieutenant, but prepared to
execute the king's mandate.

Dighton, the warder, who still attended
on the princes, having contrived to satisfy
the lieutenant that he had no hand in the
recent attempt to escape, appeared a fitting
instrument for the business, and proved to
be pliant.

AVith him was associated Miles Forrest,
who had been concerned in the nuu'der of
the Duke of Clarence, and these two mis-
creants undertook a deed from which all
others shrank.

AVithin the last few days, by an order
received from the kinu', the unfortunate
princes had been removed — for greater se-
curity, it was said, but it may be for other

268

THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

reasons — from the palace to the Garden
Tower, as the structure was then styled —
though it subsequently acquired a far more
terrible designation, which still continues
attached to it.

Beneath this tower yawns a low-browed
archway, once protected by a massive gate
at either end, and by a strong portcullis.

Immediately above the arch, and reached
by a short circular stone staircase, is a room
in which the portcullis is worked ; and this
gloomy chamber and the ponderous defen-
sive machine — though the latter is no longer
used — are still in pretty nearly the same
state as heretofore.

It was in the upper part of this structure
that the two princes were confined on their
removal from the palace.

A small chamber was assigned them, con-

THE PENANCE. 269

taining a bed and one or two chairs, with
another still smaller room adjoining it.

Nothing could be more dismal than the
appearance of these cells — for such they
were, in effect. The muUioned Avindows
were strongly grated like those of a dun-
geon. The massive door of the little bed-
chamber Avas constantly locked and bolted
at night by Dighton, and there was another
strong door below to shut off the portcullis
room, which was reached by a separate
staircase.

The bed-chamber window looked upon
the inner ward, and upon the White Tower ;
but it Avas placed too high up to be easily
reached, and the 3'outliful captives never
gazed out from it.

Since the failure of their attempt at
flight, they had become completely dis-

270 THE GOLDSMITH'S IVIFE.

lieartenecl. Even Ricliarcl had lost liis
spirit. But as calamity pressed upon them,
their brotherly love strengthened, and served
to support them.

Convinced they had not long to live, they
strove to prepare for death. No priest
visited them — no one whatever was allow^ed
to come near them, except Lighton, and
his manner was now exceedingly morose.

But they had a missal, given to Eichard
by the queen, which proved an inexpres-
sible comfort to them. They read it toge-
ther continually, and while they were thus
employed, their hearts seemed lightened.
Often did they w^isli they could pass away
quietly Avhile occupied in prayer.

Ever since they had been immured, in
this cell, a change had gradually taken
place in their looks. Their features had

THE PEXANCt:. 271

now a sweet, resigned, almost angelic ex-
pression, wliieli they wore to the last.

Their discourse was no longer of earthly
matters, but of celestial joys, in which they
hoped to participate.

" Heaven, in its mercy, will soon take us
hence," said Edward, " and then we shall
be free from all care. Our sufferings, I
trust, will serve as an atonement for such
sins as we have committed. Do you for-
give all our enemies, Richard ?"

" All, except our cruel uncle," replied
the little Duke of York. ''Him I cannot
forgive."

"But you must forgive even him!'' said
Edward, gravely.

" I will try to do whatever you enjoin
me, brother," said the duke. " But this is
beyond my power. I have not told you of
the dream I had last night."

272 THE GOLDSMlTirS WIFE.

" I had a dream likewise," said Edward.
''Let me relate mine first. Metliouglit this
prison-chamber opened, and we were wafted
away by angels."

" My dream was precisely similar," ob-
served E-ichard. "What do such visions
portend, brother?"

"A speedy death," replied Edward. " Per-
chance to-nio'ht !"

Richard heard the explanation without a
tremor.

" I thought so," he said ; " and, there-
fore, I did not mention vci^ dream before."

" I shall lay my head upon the pillow
tranquilly," said Edward, "hoping I may
awake in heaven."

" And so shall I, brother," said Richard.

That night, at a late hour, the door of
the cell was opened, and two dark figures

THE PENANCE. Ij;^

could be seen standing outside, one of whom
held a lamp.

Despite the noise caused by drawing back
the bolts, the gentle sleepers did not wake.
They were lying close together, and
Eichard 's arm encircled his brother's neck.
From their looks they might be dreaming,
of Paradise.

Touching as the picture was, it moved
not the ruffians wlio contemplated it.

But as they seemed to pause, a stern
voice was heard from the stone staircase,
commanding them to proceed with their
work.

The foremost ruffian then stepped for-
ward, and plucked the pillow from beneath
the heads of the sleepers.

Even then the princes did not stir, though
rjchard sighed. It seemed beneficently

VOL. III. T

2 7+ THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

intended that they should pass away in
slumber.

Five minutes later, the dreadful deed was
done.

Sir James Tyrrell entered the chamber.
The murderers, with their ghastly counte-
nances, were standing beside the couch. The
light of the lamp fell upon the victims. The
pillow had been removed. The attitude of
the brothers was unchanged — their expres-
sion placid, even in death.

By Sir James Tyrrell's direction, the un-
fortunate princes were buried deep in the
ground at the foot of the stone staircase.

Subsequently, however, the bodies vrere
conveyed, by King Richard's order, to an-
other grave in the AYliite Tower, which re-
mained Ions: undiscovered.

But the remains of the royal youths

THE PENANCE. 275

being found in 1674, they -were finally in-
terred in Henry the Seventh's Chapel in
Westminster Abbey.

Having accomplished his work, Sir James
Tyrrell set ofi" for Warwick to claim his
reward.

His reward, in the end, was the scaffold.

Dorset v/as not drowned on the night
when he attempted to liberate the princes
from the Tower, He was picked up by a
boat, and after running several other risks,
contrived to regain the Abbey Sanctuary.

It was his sad office to inform the queen
of the murder of her two sons.

Uttering a piercing shriek, she fell to the
ground.

When she recovered her sensibility, she
appeared half frenzied, filled the hall with
cfies, tore her hair, beat her breast, and re-
T 2

276 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

proached herself bitterly with her madness
in delivering her youngest son to destruc-
tion.

"My Richard, my darling, would be here
now, if I had remained firm!" she cried.
" How could I part with him — how could I
surrender him to the bloodthirsty Glou-
cester ?"

She then knelt down, and witli out-
stretched hands, invoked Heaven's ven-
geance.

"0, Lord!" she exclaimed, "remember,
I pray thee, the death of these innocents,
and avenge them !"

THE PENANCE. lyj

IV.

HOW JANE WAS DELIVEKED TO THE BISHOP OF LONDON
FOR PUNISHIEENT.

Confined for more than three months in
the Beauchamp Tower, Jane had begun to
look upon her prison as a haven of rest.

Her captivity had been wholly spent in
devotion and acts of penitence, enjoined by
her confessor. Father Lambert. Had the
good priest been able to obtain a pardon
from the vindictive king, he could have
procured her admission to the Priory of
Saint Helen's, the prioress being willing to

2yS THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

receive her. But Richard's resentment was
still stronsf as ever against her. Alice Ford-
ham was set free, but Jane was reserved
for punishment.

At leno'th the officers of the Ecclesiastical
Court came to the Tower, demanded the
body of Jane Shore, and received her from
the lieutenant.

No indignity was spared her. Guarded
by half a dozen halberdiers, like a common
criminal, she was taken across Tower Hill,
and through the public streets to the palace
of the Bishop of London, which was situated
on the north-west side of Saint Paul's.

She was accompanied by Father Lambert,
and she had need of the good priest's sup-
port. As she passed along Cornhill and
Cheapside, she was beset by crowds of
curious spectators, but her' looks and de-

THE PENANCE. 1^^

meanour Avere so gentle and resigned, that
all who beheld her were hlled with com-
passion.

On arriving at the bishop's palace, she
was lodged in a small cell, and here Father
Lambert left her, jDromising to attend at the
conrt on the morrow.

A miserable pallet was provided, and her
fare was bread and water, but she slept
Avell on her Avretched couch, and having re-
solved to fast, the food remained untouched.

Next day she was brought before the
court, which was assembled in a large hall
of the palace, panelled with black oak, and
partially hung with tapestry. xVt the upper
end was a large eruciiix.

The bishop was in full ecclesiastical attire,
as were the dignitaries of the cathedral, by
v\'hom he was surrounded.

^oO THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

The prelate had an austere expression of
countenance, and eyed Jane sternly as she
stood before him.

She cast one timid, half-supplicating look
at her judges, and then fixed her eyes on
the ground.

She was very pale, and her cheeks bore
traces of affliction, but her beauty was un-
impaired, as all^ who beheld her acknow-
ledged in their hearts.

Her dress was plain as that of a nun, and
consisted of a gown of grey serge, and a
wimple. A string of beads hung from her
girdle. When she had been compelled to
pass through the streets, she had worn a
hood, but this was now laid aside, and her
fair tresses were uncovered.

Very few persons were admitted, or the
court would have been inconveniently

THE PENAXCE. 281

crowded. Among those present were the
Lord Mayor and several important citizens,
who had petitioned the king in Jane's
favour, but had not yet received an answer,
though it was momentarily expected.

This circumstance caused a slight delay
in the proceedings, but as no messenger
appeared, the bishop clothed his brow with
frowns, and addressing Jane in astern tone,
severely censured her for her conduct —
lashing her as with a whip of scorpions.

She attempted no reply, for she had no-
thing to allege in her defence ; but Father
Lambert earnestly recommended her to
mercy on the score of her deep and
sincere penitence, to which he could bear
witness.

Doctor Lewis, the late king's physician,
made a strong appeal to the bishop and the

282

THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

court in Iier behalf, enumerating tlie many
kind actions she had performed, and ener-
getically declaring that if all those she had
benefited and served were there to speak
for her, the court would be filled with
them.

But this eloquent address failed to touch
the judges, and the bishop was preparing
to pass sentence, when an officer entered
the court with a missive for the Lord
Mayor.

The prelate paused while the letter was
opened, and a feeling of intense anxiety per-
vaded the assemblage for a few moments,
but it was then seen from the Lord Mayor s
looks that the petition had failed.

At this trying juncture Jane manifested
no emotion, and did not even raise her
eyes.

THE PENANCE. 283

Perfect silence being again restored, the
bishop sentenced Jane to perform public
penance for her sin, the enormity of which
he had already characterised, in Saint Paul's
Cathedral on the following morning.

But the severe part of the sentence was
to come, and for this the majority of the
assemblage were wholly unprepared.

" Look at me, wretched woman, while I
pronounce thy doom !" said the bishop, yet
more sternly than he had hitherto spoken.
" When thou hast publicly declared thy re-
pentance in the manner prescribed, it is the
kino-'s command that thou be cast forth
into the streets in thy penitent garb, and
be thenceforth treated as one excluded
from the communion of our holy Church.
None shall afford thee shelter, none give
thee food or drink, on pain of death, but

284 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

thou shalt be left to perish miserably !
Such is thy sentence, and doubt not it will
be rigorously fulfilled. I give thee no hope
of pardon !"

A slight cry escaped Jane, but that was
all. A couple of halberdiers advanced, and
took her back to the cell.

As she quitted the court, she threw a
grateful glance at Father Lambert and
Doctor Lewis.

THE PENANCE. 285

V.

now THE PENANCE WAS PERFOKMED.

Next morning, at an early hour, an im-
mense crowd was collected within the area
in front of Saint Paul's, it having been
rumoured throughout the City that the
beautiful Mistress Shore was about to per-
form public penance on that day.

The greatest curiosity was exhibited to
witness the spectacle, and every available
spot likely to command a view of it was
occupied.

286 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

Every window looking upon the court of
the bishop's palace, upon Paul's Cross, and
upon the great western porch of the cathe-
dral, was filled with spectators.

Gloomy vfcather harmonised with the
scene about to be enacted. The vast edifice
around Avhich the throng was gathered
looked unusually sombre, and its lofty spire
could scarcely be distinguished amid heavy
overhanging clouds.

Jane's career and extraordinary beauty
formed the general theme of conversation.
Thoiinfli her conduct was blamed, some ex-
cuses were made for her, and it was uni-
versally admitted that her sentence was in-
finitely too severe. Man^-, indeed, spoke of
it with horror and indignation.

To repress any attempt at tumult, a troop
of archers was stationed at the rear of Paul's
Cross.

THE PENANCE. 287

Moreover, two lines of halberdiers ex-
tended from the gate of the bishop's palace
to the cathedral porch.

About nine o'clock, a bell began to toll,
and a solemn procession issued from the
palace gate, and took its way slowly along
the lane formed by the halberdiers.

The- procession was headed by a long
train of monks, in gowns and scapularies of
brown russet. After them follovv^ed the
chantry priests in their robes, the minor
canons, the prebendaries, and the dean, all
in fidl pontificals.

Xext came a priest, witli a richly deco-
rated crozier, and then the bishop himself,
v.earing a mitre blazing with jewels, and a
splendidly embroidered dalmatic.

]\[arching on with a proud step, the pre-
late was followed l)y a cross-bearer, carry-
in 2: a lar2:e silver cross.

THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

Then came the penitent, carrying in her
hand a lighted taper.

Her profuse fair tresses were unbound,
and streamed down over her shoulders.
Her feet were bare, and her only garment
was a white kirtle, that scarcely sufficed
to conceal the exquisite proportions of her
figure.

Exhibited in this guise to thousands of
prying observers, she felt a shame amount-
ing to agony, made manifest by her blushes
and shrinking deportment.

Yet she walked on, though expecting each
moment to sink to the s'round. Had not
words of sympathy and commiseration
reached her ear, and given her strength,
she must have fallen.

Never for a moment did she raise her
eves. Behind her came another train of
priests and monks.

THE PENANCE. ^89

Presently, the procession reached the
porch ; and the dean and bishop having
passed into the fane, she was seen climb-
ing the stone steps with her small white
feet.

She was now on the very spot where she
beheld the king on her wedding-day ; and
the thought crossed her, and gave her an
additional pang.

Many of the spectators remembered
having seen her there on that day, and
were forcibly struck with the contrast of
the present with the past. Yet none of
them declared they had foreseen what
would occur.

In another moment she had entered the
sacred edifice, and was pacing the cold pave-
ment of the nave, along which moved the
procession.

VOL. III. u

^9° THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

The whole interior of the vast fabric was
crowded, and the ordeal to w^hich the peni-
tent had now to submit was quite as trying
as that she had previously experienced.

More so, indeed ; for the spectators, not
being kept back by a guard, now pressed
closely upon her.

From observations that reached her, she
learnt that the Lord Mayor and several im-
portant citizens were present ; but she saw
them not.

At length she approached the high altar,
around which was collected the priestly
train. Kneeling down before the altar, she
acknowledged her guilt, in accents that
scarcely readied the ear of the bishop, and
declared her profound repentance.

" Some atonement has now been made,
daughter," said the prelate ; " but your sin

THE PENANCE. 29 I

is not yet expiated. I have no power to
remit the sentence passed upon you by the
king. Arise, and depart !"

"Depart! Whither?" she exclaimed,
looking as if her senses had left her. " May
I not die here?"

The bishop made no reply.

Two priests then came forward, and bade
her follow them. She made no more re-
monstrances, but obeyed.

Pitying exclamations were heard from
the assemblage as she was led through their
midst, and these expressions of sympathy
soon deepened into threats against her con-
ductors. '

What might have happened it is difficult
to say, had not a party of halberdiers,
headed by an officer, met them, and taken
charge of the penitent.

^9^ THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

Placins: lier in their midst, the halberdiers
conducted her to a side door, where they
detained her for a few moments while the
party of archers previously referred to Avas
drawn up.

They then led her to Paul's Cross, so
that she could be seen by the entire assem-
blage.

A trumpet Avas then sounded, and pro-
clamation made by an officer, in the king's
name, that Jane Shore, having been ex-
communicated for her sins, none were
to afford her food or shelter, on pain of
death.

A like proclamation was afterwards made
at the cross at Cheapside, and at other
places in the City.

Parties of archers were likewise ordered
to patrol the streets during the remainder

THE PENJNCE. 293

of the day, and tliroughout the night, to see
the injunction strictly obeyed.

Meanwhile, the crowd had been dispersed
by the archers, and Jane was left alone,
seated on the lowest step of Paul's Cross,
with her face covered by her hands.

294 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

YI.

EXPIATION.

A HAESH voice at length aroused her
from the state of apathy into which she
had sunk, and, looking up, she beheld a
mounted archer.

The man had a savage aspect, and seemed
wholly unmoved.

" You cannot remain here longer, wo-
man !" he said. " You are in the way."

"I know not where to turn my steps,"
she replied, despairingly. " I have little

THE PENANCE. 295

strength left. All will soon be over with
me. Let me stay here to the last."

" Paul's Cross is not a place of refuge,
but a pulpit for preaching," he rejoined,
"and good folks will come here anon to
listen to a sermon from the dean. The
officers will then drive you hence with
stripes, if you go not willingly."

"May I not return to the cathedral?" she
implored,

"The doors of all churches are closed
against you. Bring not further trouble on
your head, but begone !"

He then rode back slowly to his com-
rades, two of whom were stationed at the
gates of the bishop's palace.

Three others kept guard on the eastern
side of the enclosure, which was now com-
pletely deserted, except by a few priests.

296 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

Groups of persons, however, were col-
lected at the corners of the streets leading
towards the cathedral, watching the peni-
tent from a distance, and many pitying
spectators were gazing at her with tearful
eyes from the windows of the surrounding
habitations.

But none dared help her — none dared
come near her. The few who made the
attempt were quickly driven back by the
guard.

Father Lambert desired to offer her reli-
gious consolation, but was not allowed to
approach her.

For several hours she wandered through
the streets, scarcely knowing whither she
went. The guard followed her at a dis-
tance, and forced her to u.o on. Her feet
were cut by the sharp stones, and left marks

THE PENANCE. rK^J

of blood on the pathways. But the guard
allowed her no rest, and suffered no one to
assist her.

Completely worn out, at length, she at-
tempted to enter the hospital of Saint Mary
of Bethlehem, in Bishopsgate - street, but
was rudely repulsed by the porter, and fell
senseless to the ground.

When she fully regained her senses, whicb
was not for a long time, since no means-
were taken for her recovery, she found her-
self lying beside a cross in a field, outside
the City walls.

The spot was solitary, and she had been
taken there to die undisturbed.

For this good office, by whomsoever per-
formed, she felt thankful. That her suffer-
ings would soon be over, she doubted not.
Never since she quitted the Tower had food

VOL. III. X

298 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

passed her lips. The bread and water in
her cell at the bishop's palace were left un-
touched. The duration of her punishment
was thus abridged.

But she felt not the pains of starvation.
Her strength was now nearly gone, and her
jaintness and exhaustion were such that she
could not raise herself, though her desire
vas very great to kneel down at the foot of
the cross.

But she could pray, and she prayed con-
stantly and fervently.

Night had come on, but the pale glimmer
of a crescent moon showed her the ancient
walls of the City, with a fortified gate in
the distance, and a monastic structure close
at hand.

From the monastery came the sound of
a hymn. She listened to the strains, and
-they greatly soothed her.

THE PENANCE. 299

At length the solemn chant ceased, and
the lights hitherto visible in the windows of
the grey old pile disappeared. The brethren
had retired to rest.

No ; the gate opened, and a friar came
forth, and took his way slowly toAvards the
cross,

A thrill passed through her frame as he
stood beside her. His hood was thrown
back, and the moonlight revealed the pallid
countenance of Alban Shore.

His features wore a pitying expression.

" Do you receive your suiFerings as a
penance justly inflicted by Heaven for your
sin ?" he said. " Do you truly and heartily
repent?"

" Truly and heartily !" she murmured.

" Then may Heaven forgive you, even as
I forgive you," he said.

She pressed his hand to her lips.

300 THE GOLDSMITH'S WIFE.

Ere many minutes her sorrows were over,
and Shore was praying by the lifeless body
of the erring woman he had never ceased
to love.

THE END.

LONDON" :
C. ■WHITING, EEADFOET HOUSE, DUKE-STEEET, LINCOLK'S-INN-FIELDS^.

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