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Presented  to  the 
LIBRARY  of  the 

UNIVERSITY  OF  TORONTO 

by 

ONTARIO  LEGISLATIVE 
LIBRARY 


flDemoirs  of  Iking  TRtcbaro  tbe  Ubiro. 


VOLUME    I. 


«*• 


MEMOIRS 


OF 


(i)utanu 

IMF' 


KING  RICHARD  THE  THIRD 


AND  SOME  OF  HIS  CONTEMPORARIES 


o.oltth  an  htetnnral  Crania  on  thr  -Battle  of 


BY 


JOHN    HENEAGE  JESSE 


'X  jSew  <Cbitton 


IN    TWO    VOLUMES  — VOLUME    I. 


NEW  YORK 
FRANCIS    P.   HARPER 

1894 


D/l 


i2w 

/•/ 


PREFACE. 

THE  character  of  this  work  seems  to  demand 
some  explanation  from  the  author.  Had  he  com- 
menced his  labours  with  the  original  and  definite 
purpose  of  writing  Memoirs  of  Richard  III.  or  of 
his  times,  the  reader  would  have  been  spared  these 
observations.  But  such  was  not  the  case.  This 
volume,  in  fact,  emanated  indirectly  in  the  drama 
which  forms  a  portion  of  its  pages.  The  necessity 
of  acquiring  a  knowledge  of  the  characters  and 
motives  of  action  of  the  diiferent  historical  person- 
ages, whom  the  author  proposed  to  introduce 
among  his  dramatis  persona,  entailed  on  him 
some  amount  of  literary  research.  The  author 
found  his  task  an  agreeable  one.  By  degrees  he 
collected  the  materials  which  constituted  the 
groundwork  of  the  several  memoirs  in  this  volume. 
That  which  pleased  himself,  he  thought,  might 
possibly  please  others.  As  fresh  facts  and  anec- 
dotes increased  on  his  hands,  he  had,  of  course,  the 
option  of  reconstructing  his  labours,  and  substitut- 
ing a  more  regular,  and  perhaps  a  more  ambitious 
plan.  But  it  is  not  always  that  a  literary  work  is 
improved  by  being  diverted  from  its  original  de- 


VI  PREFACE. 

sign,  and  accordingly  the  author  decided  on  adher- 
ing to  the  plan  which  he  had  at  first  adopted.  To 
the  merit  of  novelty,  whether  of  facts  or  argu- 
ments, he  can  prefer  but  a  very  trifling  claim.  To 
compress  scattered  and  curious  information,  and,  if 
possible,  to  amuse,  have  been  the  primary  objects 
of  the  author.  If  he  shall  in  any  degree  have  suc- 
ceeded in  this  latter  object,  the  thanks  of  the 
reader  are  mainly,  if  not  entirely,  due  to  those 
harvest-lords  in  the  field  of  old  historical  literature, 
whose  learned  and  diligent  researches  have  left  but 
little  to  be  gleaned  by  those  who  follow  in  their 
footsteps.  The  obligations  under  which  the  author 
lies  to  the  labours  of  Mr.  Sharon  Turner,  Dr.  Lin- 
gard,  Miss  Halsted,  Sir  N.  Harris  Nicolas,  Sir 
Henry  Ellis,  Mr.  Bruce,  and  Mr.  John  G.  Mchols, 
he  would  indeed  be  ungrateful  if  he  omitted  to 
acknowledge.  To  Mr.  T.  Duff  us  Hardy  and  Mr. 
James  Gairdner,  he  takes  this  opportunity  of  ex- 
pressing his  thanks,  as  well  for  the  courtesy  which 
he  personally  experienced  from  them,  as  for  the 
valuable  assistance  which  he  has  derived  from  their 
literary  publications.  To  such  other  persons  who 
have  kindly  responded  to  his  inquiries,  or  who 
have  in  any  way  aided  the  performance  of  his  task, 
the  author  also  begs  to  tender  his  thanks. 

John  Heneage  Jesse. 

London . 
September  1861. 


CONTENTS 

OF 

THE      FIEST      VOLUME. 


PAGE 

PREFACE,        ......          v 


MEMOIRS   OF   KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 


CHAPTER  I. 
THE  WAR  OF  THE  ROSES,    . 


CHAPTER  II. 
BIRTH,  PARENTAGE,  AND  EARLY  LIFE  OF  RICHARD 

OF  GLOUCESTER,  .  .  .  .39 

CHAPTER  III. 

THE     RISE     TO    GREATNESS     OF     RICHARD     OF 

GLOUCESTER,       .  .  .  .  .115 

CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  USURPATION  OF  RICHARD  OF  GLOUCESTER,    .       151 

CHAPTER  V. 

THE   GREATNESS  AND  THE   SIN   OF  RICHARD    OF 

GLOUCESTER,       .  .  .  .      193 


*  RTl 

«<  bfei  -3 


Vlll  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

PAGE 

THE  GOOD  DEEDS  AND  REMORSE  OF  RICHARD  OF 

GLOUCESTER,       .....       221 

CHAPTER  VII. 

THE    DESOLATION    AND   DEATH  OF    RICHARD   OF 

GLOUCESTER,       .....       277 

CHAPTER  VIII. 
ADDITIONAL  INFORMATION,  ....      315 

APPENDIX,     ......      329 


TRicbarfc  tbe  Ubfrfc 


MEMOIRS  OF  KING  RICHARD  III. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE    WAES    OF   THE   HOSES. 

A  T  the  time  when  Richard  Duke  of  Gloucester 
-*-•*-  won  his  first  laurels  in  high  command  at  the 
battle  of  Barnet,  he  was  only  in  the  nineteenth  year 
of  his  age.  Few,  however,  as  were  the  years  which 
had  passed  over  his  head,  he  was  old  enough  to 
have  witnessed  the  commencement  of  that  fierce 
and  memorable  contest  between  the  houses  of  York 
and  Lancaster,  which  deluged  the  battle-field  and 
the  scaffold  with  blood,  and  which,  fourteen  years 
after  the  battle  of  Barnet,  was  destined  to  be 
brought  to  a  close  by  his  own  violent  death  on  the 
field  of  Bosworth. 

In  the  course  of  that  long  and  terrible  contest, 
thirteen  pitched  battles  were  fought ;  three  kings 
met  with  untimely  ends,  and  twenty-six  knights 
of  the  Garter  perished  either  by  the  sword  or  by 
the  hand  of  the  executioner.  The  ancient  nobility 
of  England  was  almost  entirely  annihilated.  Of 


4  KING    RICHARD   THE  THIRD. 

the  royal  house  of  Plantagenet,  Richard  Duke  of 
York,  and  his  son  the  Earl  of  Rutland,  were  slain 
at  the  battle  of  Wakeiield ;  the  Duke  of  Clarence 
died  the  death  of  a  traitor ;  Edward  V.  and  his 
brother  the  Duke  of  York  were  murdered  in  the 
Tower  of  London  ;  and  lastly,  their  uncle,  Richard 
III.,  was  killed  at  Bosworth.  Of  the  house  of 
Lancaster,  King  Henry  YI.  perished  mysteriously 
in  prison ;  his  son,  Edward  Prince  of  Wales,  was 
slain  at  Tewkesbury.  Of  the  kindred  of  Queen 
Elizabeth  Woodville,  the  consort  of  Edward  IV., 
her  father,  Richard  Earl  Rivers,  and  her  brother, 
Sir  John  Woodville,  were  beheaded  at  Northamp- 
ton ;  her  husband,  John  Lord  Grey  of  Groby,  fell 
at  the  second  battle  of  St.  Albans ;  her  son,  Sir 
Richard  Grey,  was  beheaded  at  Pomfret,  and  on 
the  same  scaffold  perished  her  brother,  the  accom- 
plished Anthony  Woodville,  Earl  Rivers.  Of  the 
royal  house  of  Beaufort,  Edmund  Duke  of  Somer- 
set, formerly  Regent  of  France,  was  slain  at  the 
first  battle  of  St.  Albans  ;  Henry,  the  second  Duke, 
was  beheaded  after  the  battle  of  Hexham;  Ed- 
mund, the  third  Duke,  was  beheaded  after  the  bat- 
tle of  Tewkesbury ;  and  in  the  same  battle  was 
slain  Sir  John  Beaufort,  son  of  the  first  Duke.  Of 
the  great  house  of  Stafford,  Humphrey  Earl  of 
Stafford  fell  at  the  first  battle  of  St.  Albans ;  his 
father,  Humphrey  Duke  of  Buckingham,  fell  at  the 
battle  of  Northampton ;  Henry,  the  second  Duke, 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  5 

was  beheaded  at  Salisbury ;  and,  of  another  branch 
of  the  Staff ords,  Humphrey  Earl  of  Devon  perished 
on  the  scaffold  at  Bridge  water.  Of  the  house  of 
Neville,  Richard  Earl  of  Salisbury  was  beheaded 
after  the  battle  of  Wakefield ;  his  sons,  Richard 
Earl  of  Warwick,  the  "Kingmaker,"  and  John 
Marquis  of  Montagu,  fell  at  Barnet ;  a  third  son, 
Sir  Thomas  Neville,  fell  at  Wakefield;  Sir  John 
Neville  was  killed  at  the  battle  of  Towton;  Sir 
Henry  Neville,  son  and  heir  of  Ralph  Lord  Lati- 
mer,  was  beheaded  after  the  battle  of  Banbury, 
and  Sir  Humphrey  Neville  and  his  brother  Charles, 
after  the  battle  of  Hexham.  Of  the  Percies,  Hen- 
ry second  Earl  of  Northumberland,  one  of  the 
heroes  of  Agincourt,  fell  at  the  first  battle  of  St. 
Albans ;  two  of  his  gallant  sons,  Henry,  the  third 
Earl,  and  Sir  Richard  Percy,  was  slain  at  Towton ; 
a  third  son,  Thomas  Lord  Egremont,  perished  at  the 
battle  of  Northampton,  and  a  fourth  son,  Sir  Ralph 
Percy,  at  Hedgeley  Moor.  Of  the  house  of  Tal- 
bot,  John  second  Earl  of  Shrewsbury,  and  his 
brother  Sir  Christopher  Talbot,  were  slain  at  North- 
ampton ;  their  kinsman,  Thomas  Talbot,  Lord  Lisle, 
fell  in  a  skirmish  at  Wotton-under-Edge.  Of  the 
Courtenays,  Thomas  sixth  Earl  of  Devon  was  be- 
headed after  the  battle  of  Towton ;  Henry,  the 
seventh  Earl,  was  beheaded  at  Sarum ;  and  at 
Tewkesbury  was  slain  their  only  remaining  brother, 
John,  the  eighth  Earl.  Of  the  De  Veres,  John 


6  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

twelfth  Earl  of  Oxford,  and  his  eldest  son  Sir  Au- 
brey de  Vere,  perished  together  on  the  scaffold  on 
Tower  Hill.  Of  the  Cliffords,  Thomas,  the  eighth 
Lord,  was  slain  at  the  first  battle  of  St.  Albans, 
and  his  son  John,  the  ninth  Lord,  at  the  battle  of 
Towton.  Of  the  house  of  Hungerford,  Robert 
third  Baron  Hungerford  was  beheaded  after  the  bat- 
tle of  Hexhani ;  and  his  heir,  Sir  Thomas  Hunger- 
ford,  was  beheaded  at  Salisbury.  Of  the  Bour- 
chiers,  Humphrey  Lord  Cromwell  was  slain  at  the 
battle  of  Barnet,  and  Sir  Edward  Bourchier,  brother 
of  Henry  Earl  of  Essex,  at  Wakefield.  Lastly,  of 
the  house  of  Welles  there  perished  the  representa- 
tives of  three  generations :  Leo  Lord  Welles  was 
slain  at  the  battle  of  Towton ;  his  son,  Richard 
Lord  Welles  and  Willoughby,  and  his  grandson  Sir 
Robert  Welles,  severally  perished  by  the  axe  of  the 
executioner. 

Long  as  is  this  catalogue  of  slaughtered  heroes, 
there  might  be  appended  to  it  many  other,  and  no 
less  illustrious  names.  At  the  battle  of  Bloreheath 
was  slain  James  Touchet,  Lord  Audley;  at  the 
battle  of  Northampton,  John  Viscount  de  Beau- 
mont ;  at  Wakefield,  William  Bonville,  Lord  Har- 
rington; at  Tewkesbury,  John  Lord  Wenlock;  at 
Towton,  Ranulph  Lord  Dacre  of  Gillesland ;  and  at 
Bosworth,  John  Howard,  Duke  of  Norfolk,  and 
Walter  Devereux,  Lord  Ferrers  of  Chartley. 
Lastly,  on  the  scaffold  perished  William  Herbert, 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  7 

Earl  of  Pembroke;  John  Tiptoft,  Earl  of  Wor- 
cester; James  Butler,  Earl  of  Wiltshire;  William 
Bonville,  Lord  Bonville ;  William  Lord  Hastings ; 
and  Sir  Owen  Tudor,  grandfather  of  King  Henry 
VII. 

Although  the  tender  years  of  Eichard  of  Glou- 
cester had  prevented  his  bearing  a  part  in  the  ear- 
lier struggles  between  the  houses  of  York  and 
Lancaster,  he  had  not  been  exempted  from  the 
extraordinary  vicissitudes  which  for  so  many  years 
had  befallen  his  race.  He  had  shared  their  flight 
when  capture  wTould  probably  have  been  death. 
He  had  worn  the  garb  of  woe  for  many  a  near  and 
illustrious  relative,  and  had  doubtless  personally 
witnessed  many  of  those  disasters,  which  desolated 
alike  the  hall  of  the  baron  and  the  cottage  of  the 
peasant.  As  associated,  therefore,  with  the  story 
of  his  boyhood, — and  also  as  throwing  a  light  on 
the  motives  which  subsequently  influenced  his  con- 
duct in  manhood,  and  the  circumstances  which  in- 
cited him  to  seize  a  crown, — it  may  not  be  inex- 
pedient to  introduce  a  brief  summary  of  the  stirring 
events,  which  immediately  preceded  the  first 
appearance  of  Richard  Duke  of  Gloucester  on  the 
great  stage  of  the  world. 

When  the  misconduct  and  misgovernment  of 
Richard  II.  induced  his  indignant  subjects  to  rise 
in  rebellion  against  him,  it  proved  to  be  a  great 
calamity  to  England  that  the  prince  of  the  house  of 


8  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

Plantagenet  whom  they  elected  to  reign  in  his 
stead  was  not  also,  by  the  laws  of  lineal  inherit- 
ance, the  nearest  in  succession  to  the  throne. 
Henry  Bolingbroke,  Duke  of  Lancaster,  who  suc- 
ceeded by  the  title  of  King  Henry  IV.,  was  de- 
scended from  John  of  Gaunt,  Duke  of  Lancaster, 
fourth  son  of  Edward  III.  But  that  monarch  had 
also  left  descendants  by  his  tliird  son,  Lionel  Duke 
of  Clarence,  which  descendants,  on  the  eve  of  the 
Wars  of  the  Roses,  were  represented  by  the  house 
of  York.  Thus  the  parliamentary  title  to  the 
crown  appertained  to  the  house  of  Lancaster ;  the 
hereditary  right  belonged  to  the  house  of  York.* 

So  long  as  the  sceptre  of  England  was  swayed 
by  the  strong  grasp  of  Henry  IV. ,  and  afterwards 
by  that  of  his  son  Henry  V.,  the  scions  of  the  elder 
branch  of  the  line  of  Plantagenet  were  reduced  to 
figure  at  the  court  of  their  rivals  as  simple  princes 
of  the  blood,  with  little  prospect  of  recovering  their 
inheritance.  But  to  the  wise  and  vigorous  rule  of 
the  victor  of  Agincourt,  had  succeeded  the  domin- 
ion of  a  prince  whose  piety  and  chastity  justly 
obtained  for  him  the  admiration  of  the  wise  and 
good,  but  who,  on  the  other  hand,  was  lamentably 
deficient  in  that  firmness  and  energy  of  mind  which, 

*  The  annexed  genealogical  table  will  explain  the  descent  from 
King  Edward  III.,  as  well  as  the  relationship  by  blood  or  marriage, 
of  some  of  the  principal  persons  subsequently  mentioned  in  these 
memoirs. 


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10  KING    KICHAKD   THE   THIRD. 

especially  in  fierce  and  turbulent  times,  are  re- 
quired in  those  who  are  called  upon  to  govern 
kingdoms.  Taken  from  a  cradle  to  sit  upon  a 
throne,  the  imbecile  Henry  VI.  had  reigned  nearly 
thirty  years  over  England,  when  the  continued 
maladministration  of  his  affairs  by  incompetent 
ministers  at  length  raised  such  an  amount  of  indig- 
nation in  the  breasts  of  his  subjects,  as  to  threaten 
the  subversion  of  the  throne  of  which  he  was  the 
innocent  usurper.  Seldom  had  the  royal  treasury 
been  known  to  be  in  a  more  exhausted  state.  Sel- 
dom had  the  administration  of  justice  been  more 
tardy.  Never,  perhaps,  had  the  sheriffs  of  coun- 
ties, and  the  collectors  of  taxes,  been  more  arbi- 
trary in  their  proceedings,  or  more  extortionate  in 
their  exactions.  Never,  perhaps,  had  the  arrogance 
and  the  luxurious  habits  of  the  prelates,  as  well  as 
the  scandalous  immoralities  and  negligence  of  the 
clergy  in  general,  entailed  greater  disrepute  upon 
the  Church.  The  great  barons,  too,  had  their 
especial  grounds  for  complaint.  Deeply  they  re- 
sented the  influence  which  William  de  la  Pole, 
Duke  of  Suffolk,  a  man  of  plebeian  origin,  had 
acquired  over  the  weak  king  and  his  accomplished 
consort.  Deeply  they  felt  the  loss  of  the  rich  prov- 
inces of  Anjou  and  Maine,  by  which  Henry  had  far 
too  dearly  purchased  the  hand  of  the  beautiful  Mar- 
garet of  Anjou.  Moreover,  the  ancient  glory  of 
England  had  been  tarnished  by  the  disasters  and  de- 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  11 

feats,  which  she  had  encountered  in  her  recent  contest 
with  France.  It  was  felt  by  all  classes  that,  since 
the  Conquest,  no  greater  misfortune  had  befallen 
England  than  the  loss  of  Normandy  with  her  seven 
bishoprics  and  one  hundred  churches.  All  ranks 
of  society  admitted  the  existence  of  intolerable 
grievances.  In  all  quarters  there  was  a  cry  for 
redress. 

Unfortunately  for  the  house  of  Lancaster,  the 
head  of  the  rival  house  of  York  happened,  at  this 
crisis,  to  be  a  prince  eminently  qualified  to  carry  on 
a  successful  competition  for  empire,  whether  the 
occasion  might  require  wisdom  in  the  closet,  or 
personal  valour  on  the  battle-field.  Richard  Plan- 
tagenet,  Duke  of  York,  was  the  grandson  of  Ed- 
mund of  Langley,  Duke  of  York,  fifth  son  of 
Edward  III.  It  was  not,  however,  from  his  pater- 
nal descent,  but  from  being  the  representative  of 
Philippa,  daughter  and  heiress  of  Lionel  Duke  of 
Clarence,  the  third  son  of  Edward  III.,  that  he 
founded  his  title  to  the  throne.  Brave,  discreet, 
and  gifted  with  abilities  considerably  above  the 
ordinary  standard, — possessed,  moreover,  of  vast 
Avealth  and  of  princely  territories, — beloved  by  the 
people,  and  allied,  by  blood  or  by  marriage,  to  the 
most  powerful  barons  of  England, — so  powerful  a 
subject  as  the  Duke  of  York  might  well  have  been 
regarded  with  apprehension  and  jealousy  by  a 
monarch  far  more  energetic  than  the  spiritless 


12  KING   RICHAED   THE   THIRD. 

Henry,  and  far  better  capable  of  coping  with  an 
ambitious  rival.  While  yet  a  boy,  Richard  had 
distinguished  himself  by  his  personal  valour  and 
military  ability.  Before  he  was  eighteen  years  of 
age  he  had  been  preferred  before  the  Duke  of  Som- 
erset to  be  Regent  of  France. 

The  Duke  of  York  was  apparently  in  his  thirty- 
third  year,  when  the  spirit  of  disaffection  which 
pervaded  England  naturally  revived  the  long  dor- 
mant hopes  of  the  elder  branch  of  the  Plantagenets. 
At  the  period  of  which  we  are  speaking,  he  was 
holding  his  court  in  Ireland,  of  which  island 
he  had  rendered  himself  the  idolized  governor. 
But  though  absent,  his  friends  in  England  had 
kept  him  constantly  supplied  with  intelligence, 
and  had  assiduously  watched  over  his  interests. 
Their  primary  object  had  been  to  familiarize  the 
public  mind  with  his  claims,  and  gradually  to  pre- 
pare the  people  to  receive  him  as  their  ruler. 
Accordingly,  his  subordinate  partisans  received 
instructions  to  discuss  and  maintain  his  claims  in 
all  public  places,  to  extol  the  services  which,  as  a 
soldier  and  a  statesman,  he  had  rendered  to  the 
State,  and  especially  to  draw  invidious  comparisons 
between  the  eminent  administrative  abilities  of  the 
duke,  contrasted  with  the  misgovernment  of  the 
queen  and  the  imbecility  of  her  consort. 

By  these  means  the  party  of  the  Duke  of  York 
was  daily  becoming  more  formidable  in  the  State, 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  13 

when  the  breaking  out  of  the  formidable  popular 
tumult,  known  as  Jack  Cade's  insurrection,  seemed 
to  invite  the  duke  openly  to  espouse  the  cause  of 
the  people,  and,  at  the  same  time,  to  assert  his 
legitimate  rights.  Tempting,  however,  as  the 
opportunity  appeared  to  be,  he  allowed  it  to  slip 
by.  Not  improbably  he  may  have  shrunk  from 
the  responsibility  of  being  the  first  to  entail  on  his 
country  the  horrors  of  civil  war,  or,  not  impossibly, 
he  may  have  imagined  that,  sooner  or  later,  the 
imprudent  conduct  of  the  queen  must  lead  to  his 
being  called  to  the  throne  by  the  general  voice  of 
the  people,  and  thus  relieve  him  from  the  hateful 
necessity  of  unsheathing  the  sword.  He  returned 
from  Ireland,  indeed,  and  assumed  the  attitude  of 
an  armed  dictator,  but  without  advancing  any  title 
to  the  throne.  His  only  motive,  he  said,  in  ap- 
pealing to  arms  was  to  procure  redress  for  notori- 
ous public  wrongs,  and  more  especially  to  obtain 
the  dismissal  from  the  king's  councils  of  the 
queen's  unpopular  favorite,  Edmund  Duke  of  Som- 
erset. At  first  success  attended  his  measures. 
Alarmed  at  the  approach  of  an  army  equal  if  not 
superior  to  its  own,  the  court  entered  into  a  solemn 
engagement  to  take  measures  for  the  redress  of 
grievances,  and  to  commit  Somerset  to  the  Tower. 
No  sooner,  however,  had  York  disbanded  his 
forces  than  the  promise  was  broken,  and  Somerset 
reinstated  in  all  his  former  authority.  Accord- 


14  KING    RICHARD    THE   THIRD. 

ingly,  disgusted  with  the  insincerity  of  the  court, 
and  probably  apprehensive  of  personal  danger,  the 
duke  retired  for  a  season  to  his  castle  of  Wigmore, 
on  the  borders  of  Wales,  where  Ms  retainers  were 
numerous,  and  his  influence  paramount. 

For  two  years  from  this  period  the  public  tran- 
quillity remained  undisturbed,  but,  at  the  end  of 
that  time,  Henry  VI.  was  seized  by  one  of  those 
attacks  of  mental  aberration  by  which  he  was  peri- 
odically afflicted.  The  star  of  York  was  now  again 
in  the  ascendant.  The  queen,  to  her  excessive 
mortification,  found  herself  incapable  of  contend- 
ing with  the  first  prince  of  the  blood ;  the  Duke  of 
Somerset  was  arrested  in  her  apartments  and  sent 
to  the  Tower ;  the  Duke  of  York  was  declared  by 
parliament  to  be  protector  of  the  realm  during 
pleasure.  Still  the  cautious  prince  of  the  blood 
shrank  from  seizing  the  sceptre.  In  the  mean  time 
the  king  gradually  recovered  from  his  dreadful 
malady;  Somerset  was  released  from  the  Tower, 
and  resumed  his  seat  at  the  king's  councils ;  York 
was  deprived  of  his  important  post  of  governor  of 
Calais,  and  once  more  flew  indignantly  to  Wig- 
more. 

The  contention  between  Somerset  on  the  one  side, 
and  the  Duke  of  York  on  the  other,  had  now 
become  a  war  to  the  knife.  The  latter,  indeed,  still 
shrank  from  advancing  his  title  to  the  crown,  but 
he  no  longer  hesitated  to  appeal  to  arms.  His 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  15 

friends  were  entreated  to  meet  him  in  the  marches 
of  Wales.  The  Earls  of  Salisbury  and  Warwick 
and  Lord  Cobham  speedily  joined  his  standard. 
He  had  soon  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  himself  at 
the  head  of  three  thousand  men.  In  the  mean 
time  Somerset  had  not  been  idle.  Having  collected 
a  force  nearly  equal  to  that  of  the  Yorkists,  he 
induced  the  king  to  accompany  him  on  his  march, 
and  boldly  advanced  to  give  battle  to  the  insur- 
gents. 

Thus  commenced  the  terrible  and  bloody  struggle 
between  the  houses  of  York  and  Lancaster.  The 
first  blood  was  shed  at  the  battle  of  St.  Albans,  on 
the  22nd  of  May  1455.  The  Yorkists  proved  vic- 
torious. On  the  side  of  the  king  were  slain  the 
Duke  of  Somerset,  the  Earl  of  Northumberland, 
the  Earl  of  Stafford,  eldest  son  of  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham,  and  Thomas  Lord  Clifford.  The  king 
himself  was  wounded  in  the  neck  with  an  arrow, 
and  fell  into  the  hands  of  the  Yorkists.  Signal, 
however,  as  was  the  duke's  success,  he  still  con- 
tinued to  exercise  that  moderation  and  caution 
which  ever  characterised  his  policy.  Incontrovert- 
ible as  were  his  claims  to  the  throne  by  right  of 
hereditary  descent,  he  probably  felt  that  unless  his 
title  were  also  solemnly  recognized  by  parliament, 
his  triumph  must  necessarily  be  but  brief.  Accord- 
ingly parliament  was  appealed  to  by  him,  and,  to 
his  disappointment,  was  appealed  to  in  vain.  The 


16  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

barons,  instead  of  inviting  him  to  ascend  the 
throne,  solemnly  renewed  their  oaths  of  fealty  to 
the  king;  the  lords  spiritual  laying  their  hands 
upon  their  breasts,  the  lords  temporal  placing  their 
hands  within  those  of  the  king.  But,  unhappily 
for  Henry,  he  had  scarcely  received  the  congratula- 
tions of  his  friends  when  he  relapsed  into  his 
former  state  of  mental  incapacity.  Again  the 
Duke  of  York  was  invested  by  parliament  with  the 
protectorship.  Again  the  kingly  power  seemed  to 
be  within  his  grasp. 

There  was  at  this  period  an  exalted  personage 
in  the  State,  whose  high  spirit,  united  to  the  fasci- 
nations of  wit  and  female  beauty,  very  nearly 
proved  a  match  for  the  vast  influence,  the  wary 
genius,  and  long  political  experience  of  the  over- 
cautious chief  of  the  house  of  Plantagenet.  That 
person  was  the  famous  Margaret  of  Anjou,  now  in 
her  twenty-seventh  year,  and  in  the  zenith  of  her 
loveliness.  Hitherto  the  only  talent  which  she  had 
displayed  was  for  intrigue.  Indeed,  so  far  from 
her  having  afforded  any  evidence  of  that  indomita- 
ble fearlessness  for  which  her  name  has  since  been 
rendered  famous  in  history,  it  was  notorious  that, 
at  the  time  of  Cade's  insurrection,  the  beautiful 
girl  had  not  only  flown  terrified  from  the  scene  of 
danger,  but  had  tarnished  the  honour  of  the  house 
of  Plantagenet,  by  inducing  her  uxorious  consort 
to  become  the  companion  of  her  flight.  But,  since 


KING   RICHARD   THE  THIKD.  17 

then,  an  event  had  occurred  which  necessarily  in- 
fluences the  character  of  all  women,  but  which  com- 
pletely revolutionized  that  of  Margaret  of  Anjou. 
Eighteen  months  before  the  battle  of  St.  Albans,  at 
the  time  when  the  king  was  prostrated  by  his  dis- 
tressing mental  malady,  the  queen  had  given  birth 
to  a  son,  her  first-born  child  and  her  last.  From 
this  period,  all  her  hopes,  all  her  interest  in  life, 
seem  to  have  been  centred  in  her  beloved  offspring. 
It  was  evident  to  her  that,  so  long  as  the  influence 
of  the  house  of  York  prevailed,  she  had  reason  to 
tremble  for  the  birthright  of  her  child,  if  not  for 
his  very  existence.  To  recover  her  husband,  there- 
fore, from  his  mental  disorder, — to  arouse  him  to  a 
sense  of  the  utter  ruin  which  impended  over  him- 
self and  his  line, — became  the  all-absorbing  object 
of  her  life.  No  sooner,  then,  did  he  partially  rally 
from  his  distemper,  than  every  expedient  calcu- 
lated to  amuse  or  to  beguile  him  was  called  into  play. 
The  pious  king,  it  seems,  confidently  believed  in 
the  efficacy  of  being  prayed  for  by  others;  and 
accordingly  applications,  real  or  fictitious,  wTere 
read  to  him  from  his  nobles,  soliciting  permission 
to  visit  the  shrines  on  the  continent  for  the  purpose 
of  praying  for  his  recovery.  Again,  his  mind 
having  become  harassed  by  thoughts  of  the  ex- 
hausted state  of  his  treasury,  he  was  not  only 
deluded  with  assurances  that  it  was  in  a  satisfactory 
condition,  but  that  it  was  about  to  be  replenished 


18  KING  KICHAED   THE  THIRD. 

with  inexhaustible  gold.  Lastly,  music  was  found 
to  soothe  his  distemper,  and  forthwith  the  sheriffs 
of  counties  were  directed  to  look  out  for  beautiful 
boys  skilled  in  minstrelsy,  and  to  despatch  them 
to  the  court. 

At  length  the  clouds  which  had  darkened  the 
king's  mind  passed  completely  away.  It  happened 
that  business  had  called  the  Duke  of  York  away 
from  court,  and  accordingly  the  queen  resolved  to 
take  every  advantage  of  his  absence,  in  order  to 
accomplish  the  favourite  object  which  she  had  at 
heart.  Without  having  given  any  previous  notice 
to  parliament,  she  unexpectedly  produced  her  royal 
consort  before  the  House  of  Lords,  and  induced 
him  to  address  them  from  the  throne.  By  the 
blessing  of  God,  said  the  king,  he  had  been  restored 
to  health ;  he  believed  that  the  realm  no  longer  re- 
quired a  protector.  His  improved  appearance,  as 
well  as  the  dignified  composure  with  which  he 
addressed  them,  satisfied  the  barons  of  his  recovery. 
Accordingly,  an  order  was  sent  to  the  Duke  of 
York  to  resign  the  protectorship,  and  the  king 
resumed  the  reins  of  empire. 

But  though  the  device  of  the  young  queen  had 
proved  a  master-stroke,  it  was  evident  that  so  long 
as  the  powerful  leaders  of  the  Yorkist  party  were 
at  liberty,  peril  still  threatened  her  husband  and 
her  child.  The  Duke  of  York,  by  his  marriage 
with  Cecily,  daughter  of  Ralph  Earl  of  Westmore- 


KING   RICHARD   THE  THIRD.  19 

land,  had  closely  allied  himself  with  the  great 
family  of  the  Nevilles,  of  whom  no  fewer  than  six 
of  that  name  were  at  this  period  barons  of  England. 
Of  these,  the  two  most  powerful,  and  the  most  de- 
votedly attached  to  the  house  of  York,  were 
Richard  Earl  of  Salisbury,  and  his  eldest  son, 
Richard  Earl  of  Warwick,  afterwards  designated 
the  Kingmaker.  Salisbury,  on  account  of  his  hav- 
ing fought  and  vanquished  at  St.  Albans,  where 
the  queen's  favourite  Somerset  fell,  appears  to  have 
been  regarded  by  her  with  especial  aversion.  To 
secure  the  persons  of  these  three  powerful  barons 
was  now  the  paramount  object  of  Margaret.  In 
order  to  effect  her  purpose,  she  announced  that  the 
king's  health  required  the  diversions  of  hunting 
and  hawking,  and  on  this  pretext  withdrew  with 
him  to  Coventry.  From  thence  she  caused  letters, 
under  the  privy  seal,  to  be  addressed  to  the  duke 
and  the  two  earls,  intimating  that  the  king  urgently 
required  their  advice  in  certain  important  matters, 
and  inviting  them  to  his  court.  The  invitation  was 
accepted  by  all  three  of  them.  On  the  road  to 
Coventry,  however,  they  were  met  by  a  secret 
emissary,  who  informed  them  of  the  trap  which  had 
been  set  to  ensnare  them.  The  Duke  of  York  flew 
to  his  stronghold  on  the  borders  of  Wales;  the 
Earl  of  Salisbury  to  his  princely  castle  at  Middle  - 
ham,  in  Yorkshire ;  and  the  Earl  of  Warwick  to 


20  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

his  government  at  Calais,  where  he  was  the  idol  of 
the  formidable  garrison. 

Still  both  parties  shrank  from  reviving  the  hor- 
rors of  civil  war,  and  subsequently,  through  the 
good  offices  of  Bourchier,  Archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury, a  temporary  reconciliation  was  effected  be- 
tween them.  It  had  been  agreed  upon,  as  a  pre- 
liminary step,  that  the  leaders  of  the  rival  factions 
should  repair  to  London ;  the  partisans  of  the 
house  of  York  to  take  up  their  quarters  within, 
and  those  of  the  house  of  Lancaster  without,  the 
walls  of  the  city.  Accordingly  the  Duke  of  York 
took  up  his  residence  at  his  mansion  of  Baynard's 
Castle  on  the  banks  of  the  Thames ;  the  Earl  of 
Salisbury  repaired  to  his  stately  palace,  the  Erber, 
lying  further  eastward ;  the  Earl  of  Warwick  also 
took  up  his  quarters  at  his  own  house,  Warwick 
Inn,  Newgate.  The  leaders  of  the  Lancastrian 
party,  including  the  Dukes  of  Somerset  and 
Exeter,  were  quartered  without  Temple  Bar,  and 
in  other  parts  of  the  suburbs.  The  former  party 
held  their  councils  at  the  Black  Friars,  near  Lud- 
gate;  the  latter  in  the  Chapter-house  at  West- 
minster. The  king  and  queen  held  their  court  in 
the  palace  of  the  Bishop  of  London,  close  to  the 
great  cathedral  of  St.  Paul's.  Never  perhaps  had 
London  presented  so  brilliant  and  so  exciting  a 
scene  as  during  the  great  congress  of  the  barons. 
Each  baron,  apprehensive  of  treachery,  had 


KING   RICHARD   THE  THIRD.  21 

brought  with  him  a  gallant,  though  limited  num- 
ber of  retainers.*  Day  and  night  the  lord-mayor, 
Sir  Godfrey  Boleyn,  patrolled  the  streets  with  a 
guard  of  five  thousand  armed  citizens.  It  had  been 
decided  that  the  solemn  ceremony  of  reconciliation 
should  take  place  before  the  high  altar  in  St. 
Paul's.  Accordingly,  on  the  appointed  day,  the 
feast  of  the  Annunciation,  the  king,  arrayed  in 
his  royal  mantle  and  with  the  crown  on  his  head, 
issued  from  the  bishop's  palace,  and  bent  his  steps 
towards  the  cathedral.  In  the  procession  which 
accompanied  him,  the  rival  barons  walked  two  and 
two,  each  with  his  hand  in  that  of  an  enemy.  The 
Earl  of  Salisbury  walked  with  the  Duke  of  Somer- 
set, whose  father  he  had  discomfited  and  helped  to 
slay  at  St.  Albans;  Warwick  walked  with  the 
Duke  of  Exeter ;  in  the  hand  of  her  deadliest  foe, 
the  Duke  of  York,  was  that  of  the  beautiful  and 
high-spirited  queen.  Fortunately  this  memorable 
''love-day,"  as  the  chronicler  Fabyan  styles  it, 
passed  oif  without  disturbance.  York  and  Salis- 
bury returned  to  their  several  castles,  and  Warwick 
to  Calais. 

But  the  demon  of  hatred  and  revenge  rankled 

*  "  The  Duke  of  York  came  this  time  to  London  with  400  men,  and 
was  lodged  at  his  place  of  Baynard's ;  the  Dukes  of  Exeter  and  Somer- 
set, each  of  them  with  400  men  ;  the  Earl  of  Northumberland,  the 
Lord  Egremont,  and  Lord  Clifford,  with  1500.  The  Earl  of  Warwick 
came  from  Calais  with  600  men  to  London,  with  red  liveries,  embroid- 
ered with  ragged  staves." — Leland,  Collect,  vol.  ii.  p.  496. 


22  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

far  too  deeply  in  the  breasts  of  both  parties  to 
admit  of  the  truce  becoming  a  lasting  one.  It  re- 
quired, indeed,  no  great  discernment  to  foretell  that 
the  slightest  provocation  on  either  side  would  infal- 
libly be  followed  by  an  appeal  to  arms ;  that  a  sin- 
gle spark  might  kindle  a  conflagration  which  blood 
alone  could  extinguish.  And  so,  before  many 
months  had  elapsed,  it  came  to  pass.  A  servant 
of  the  king  having  insulted  a  retainer  of  Warwick 
in  the  court-yard  of  the  palace  at  Westminster,  an 
encounter  took  place  between  them,  in  which  the 
aggressor  was  wounded.  The  king's  servants  natu- 
rally took  the  part  of  their  comrade,  and  accord- 
ingly, pouring  forth  in  great  numbers  from  the 
palace,  they  not  only  fell  with  great  fury  on  the 
earl's  retinue,  who  were  awaiting  his  return  from 
the  king's  council-chamber,  but  even  beset  War- 
wick himself,  who  with  difficulty  fought  his  way  to 
his  barge  at  the  river  stairs.  Warwick  either 
believed,  or  aifected  to  believe,  that  the  attempt  on 
his  life  had  been  a  premeditated  one.  York  and 
Salisbury  were  only  too  ready  to  resent  the  insult 
offered  to  their  kinsman.  Both  parties  hastened 
to  arm  their  retainers,  and  mutually  agreed  on  re- 
ferring their  cause  to  the  arbitration  of  the  God  of 
battles. 

The  first  engagement  which  was  fought  after  the 
renewal  of  hostilities,  was  at  Bloreheath  in  Staf- 
fordshire, on  the  23rd  of  September  1459,  when  the 


KING    RICHARD    THE   THIRD.  23 

Earl  of  Salisbury,  at  the  head  of  the  Yorkists,  ob- 
tained a  complete  victory  over  the  royal  forces, 
under  the  command  of  James  Lord  Audley,  who, 
with  many  gallant  knights,  w^as  slain  in  the 
encounter.  This  engagement  was  followed,  on 
the  10th  of  July  1460,  by  the  still  more  important 
battle  of  Northampton.  On  this  occasion  the  royal 
army  was  commanded  by  the  Dukes  of  Somerset 
and  Buckingham ;  Warwick,  the  great  Earl,  led 
the  Yorkists.  His  orders  were  to  respect  the  per- 
son of  the  king  and  to  spare  the  common  soldiers, 
but  to  give  no  quarter  to  baron  or  knight.  During 
the  battle,  which  was  long  and  fiercely  fought,  the 
intrepid  Margaret  of  Anjou  stood  with  her  beloved 
child,  the  heir  of  England,  upon  a  commanding 
spot,  from  w^hence  she  could  point  out  to  him  the 
pomp  and  circumstance  of  war,  and,  as  she  fondly 
hoped,  the  utter  discomfiture  of  his  foes.  It  was 
the  first  battle  witnessed  by  the  ill-fated  Edward  of 
Lancaster,  the  first  fought  by  Edward  of  York, 
afterwards  King  Edward  IV.  Although  the  latter 
was  only  in  his  nineteenth  year,  such  confidence 
had  Warwick  in  the  son  of  his  old  companion  in 
arms,  that  he  gave  him  the  command  of  the  centre 
of  his  army ;  he  himself  engaging  at  the  head  of 
the  right  wing,  and  Edward  Brooke,  Lord  Cobham, 
commanding  the  left.  And  nobly  did  the  young 
Earl  of  March  fulfil  the  expectations  which  War- 
wick had  conceived  of  his  valour.  A  splendid 


24  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

charge  which  he  made  scattered  havoc  and  dismay 
among  the  Lancastrians.  Treachery  completed 
their  discomfiture.  Edmund  Lord  Grey  de  Ruthyn, 
who  held  an  important  command  in  the  royal  army, 
deserted  in  the  heat  of  the  battle  to  the  Yorkists. 
Dearly  were  the  earldom  of  Kent  and  the  seignory  of 
Ampthill  purchased  by  the  stain  which  is  attached 
to  his  memory.  The  Yorkists  were  completely  suc- 
cessful. The  Duke  of  Buckingham,  the  Earl  of 
Shrewsbury,  and  many  other  gallant  nobles  and 
knights,  were  slain  either  in  action  or  in  flight. 
With  difficulty  Queen  Margaret  contrived  to  escape 
with  her  idolized  son  into  the  fastnesses  of  Wales, 
from  whence  she  subsequently  fled  into  Scotland. 
Once  more  King  Henry  found  himself  a  prisoner  in 
the  hands  of  the  enemies  of  his  house. 

At  length  the  time  had  arrived  when,  in  the 
opinion  of  the  Duke  of  York  and  his  friends,  he 
might  with  safety- prefer  his  claims  to  the  crown. 
Accordingly,  on  the  16th  of  October  1460,  three 
days  after  the  parliament  had  assembled,  the  duke 
alighted  from  his  horse  at  the  entrance  of  the  great 
hall  at  Westminster,  through  which  he  passed  to 
the  House  of  Lords.  A  blast  of  trumpets  notified 
his  approach ;  a  sword  of  state  was  carried  naked 
before  him.  His  reception  by  the  barons  was  ap- 
parently very  different  from  what  he  had  antici- 
pated. Amidst  a  dead  silence,  and  with  every  eye 
fixed  upon  him,  York  advanced  to  the  throne  upon 


KING   EICHARD   THE   THIRD.  25 

which,  with  the  exception  of  an  interval  of  the  last 
sixty  years,  his  forefathers  had  sat  from  the  days 
of  the  Conqueror.  Standing  under  the  canopy  of 
state,  with  his  hand  resting  on  the  throne,  he  si- 
lently awaited  the  result  of  his  boldness.  He  had 
expected,  perhaps,  that  the  barons  would,  with  one 
accord,  have  invited  him  to  ascend  the  chair  of  the 
Confessor.  But  not  a  voice  rose  in  advocacy  of 
his  claims ;  no  look  of  encouragement  met  his  eye. 
At  length  Bourchier,  Archbishop  of  Canterbury, 
broke  the  silence.  Approaching  the  duke,  he 
coldly  intimated  to  him  that  the  king  was  in  the 
royal  apartments,  and  inquired  whether  it  was  not 
his  intention  to  visit  his  sovereign.  "I  know  no 
one  in  this  realm,"  replied  the  duke  haughtily, 
"whom  it  doth  not  rather  beseem  to  visit  me." 
With  these  words  he  descended  the  steps  which  led 
to  the  throne,  and  indignantly  quitted  the  as- 
sembly. 

But,  cold  as  was  the  reception  which  the  duke's 
pretensions  had  met  with  from  the  barons,  his  posi- 
tion in  the  State  was  too  formidable,  and  the  valid- 
ity of  his  claims  too  incontestable,  not  to  secure 
them  a  patient  investigation.  Accordingly  several 
deliberations  subsequently  took  place  in  the  House 
of  Lords ;  the  most  eminent  men  in  the  Commons 
were  invited  to  take  part  in  them,  and  they  con- 
sented. An  extraordinary  compromise  was  the  re- 
sult. The  title  of  the  Duke  of  York  to  the  throne 


26  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

was  declared  to  be  certain  and  indisputable ;  but 
inasmuch  as  King  Henry  had  swayed  the  sceptre 
for  thirty-eight  years,  it  was  decided  that  the 
empty  title  and  mock  dignity  of  king  should  be 
guaranteed  to  him  for  the  remainder  of  his  days. 
The  Duke  of  York  thereupon  was  declared  to  be 
the  true  and  rightful  heir  to  the  throne  of  his  an- 
cestors, the  peers  solemnly  swearing  to  maintain 
his  succession. 

Sick  of  the  cares  of  royalty,  and  fatigued  by  the 
weight  of  a  crown,  the  probability  is,  that,  had 
Henry  been  childless,  he  would  have  succumbed  to 
the  decision  of  parliament,  not  only  without  a 
struggle,  but  without  a  sigh.  But  when  he  also 
signed  away  the  birthright  of  his  child  in  favour 
of  his  hereditary  foe,  it  could  scarcely  have  been 
without  a  pang.  On  Margaret,  the  tidings  of  her 
consort's  pusillanimity,  and  of  the  proscription  of 
her  child,  produced  an  effect  which  seems  to  have 
been  almost  infuriating.  The  energy  and  resources 
of  this  remarkable  princess  appear  by  this  time  to 
have  been  fully  appreciated  by  friend  and  foe,  and 
accordingly,  the  Duke  of  York  sent  her  a  peremp- 
tory order,  in  the  name  of  the  king,  to  return  im- 
mediately with  her  son  to  London,  threatening  her 
with  the  penalties  of  treason  in  the  event  of  her 
refusal.  This  mandate  she  not  only  treated  with 
becoming  scorn,  but,  having  obtained  a  loan  of 
money  from  the  Scottish  court,  she  boldly  crossed 


KING   BICHARD   THE   THIRD.  27 

the  borders,  and  entered  England  at  tte  head  of  a 
small  band  of  gallant  followers. 

Her  success  in  the  northern  counties  was  rapid 
and  triumphant.  Her  youth  and  beauty,  as  well 
as  her  heroism,  her  insinuating  address,  and  the 
compassion  which  is  ever  felt  for  fallen  greatness, 
excited  an  admiration  and  sympathy  for  which  it 
would  be  difficult  to  find  a  parallel.  It  was  after- 
wards said  of  her  by  Edward  IV.  that  he  stood  in 
more  apprehension  of  Margaret  of  Anjou  when  she 
was  a  fugitive  and  an  outcast,  than  he  did  of  all 
the  princes  of  the  house  of  Lancaster  in  the  pleni- 
tude of  their  power.  The  warlike  chivalry  of  the 
north  rallied  round  the  banner  of  the  Red  Rose  al- 
most to  a  man.  In  an  incredibly  short  space  of 
time  the  qeeen  found  herself  at  the  head  of  an 
army  amounting  to  20,000  men. 

The  next  event  of  importance  which  followed  was 
the  battle  of  Waken* eld,  which  was  fought  on  the 
30th  of  December  1460.  So  energetic  and  expe- 
ditious had  been  the  proceedings  of  Margaret,  so 
unlocked  for  the  success  she  had  met  with  in  arm- 
ing the  people  of  the  north,  that  when  the  Duke  of 
York  marched  forth  to  give  her  battle,  he  could 
muster  only  6000  men.  His  friends  exhorted  him 
to  shut  himself  up  in  his  castle  of  Sandal,  where 
he  might  have  awaited  in  security  the  arrival  of  his 
gallant  son  the  Earl  of  March,  who  was  actively 
engaged  in  collecting  reinforcements.  The  duke, 


28  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

however,  obstinately  refused  to  listen  to  the  en- 
treaties of  his  followers.  Whatever  hesitation  he 
might  have  betrayed  in  the  cabinet,  on  the  field  of 
battle  he  was  ever  undaunted.  He  scorned,  he 
said,  to  retreat  before  a  woman ;  he  was  resolved 
to  triumph  or  to  die.  Considering  the  odds  against 
which  he  had  to  contend,  the  result  may  be  readily 
imagined.  The  Lancastrians  obtained  a  signal 
victory;  York  himself  was  killed  in  the  battle. 
His  head  was  carried  to  the  queen,  who  is  said  to 
have  burst  into  an  hysterical  laugh  on  beholding 
the  bloody  trophy.  Pity  had  ceased  to  find  any 
place  in  her  breast.  The  executions  which  she 
ordered  after  her  victory  were  cruel  and  excessive. 
Among  other  gallant  men  wThom  she  handed  over  to 
the  executioner  was  Warwick's  father,  the  stout 
old  Earl  of  Salisbury,  whose  head,  with  that  of  his 
brother-in-law  the  Duke  of  York,  she  ordered  to  be 
affixed  to  the  gates  of  York  ;  the  latter,  in  derision 
of  his  royal  title,  being  circled  with  a  paper  dia- 
dem. "Leave  room,"  said  the  exasperated  hero- 
ine, "for  the  heads  of  March  and  Warwick,  for 
they  shall  soon  follow." 

Elated  with  her  victory,  Margaret  of  Anjou  de- 
cided on  the  bold  step  of  marching  to  London  at 
the  head  of  one  division  of  the  army,  while  she 
despatched  the  other  division,  under  the  command 
of  Jasper  Tudor,  Earl  of  Pembroke,  to  give  battle 
to  the  young  Earl  of  March,  now  Duke  of  York, 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  29 

who  was  advancing  from  Wales  at  the  head  of  a 
formidable  force,  in  the  hope  of  speedily  avenging 
the  death  of  his  father.  The  two  armies,  com- 
manded by  March  and  Pembroke,  met  at  Morti- 
mer's Cross,  in  Herefordshire,  on  the  2nd  of  Feb- 
ruary 1461.  The  Lancastrians  suffered  a  signal 
defeat.  Pembroke  had  the  good  fortune  to  effect 
his  escape,  but  his  father,  Sir  Owen  Tudor,  who 
had  married  Katharine  of  Valois,  the  beautiful 
widow  of  Henry  V.,  was  taken  prisoner,  and  with 
several  others  beheaded.  Queen  Margaret  was  in 
the  first  instance  more  successful  than  her  discom- 
fited general.  At  St.  Albans  she  encountered  the 
army  of  the  Yorkists,  commanded  by  the  Earl  of 
Warwick,  whom  she  completely  defeated.  Thus 
the  unhappy  king,  whom  Warwick  had  forced  to 
attend  him  to  the  field  of  battle,  was  now  once 
more  restored  to  his  friends.  The  victory  was  no 
sooner  completed  than  Margaret,  leading  the  young 
Prince  of  Wales  by  the  hand,  was  conducted  by 
Lord  Clifford  to  his  tent,  in  which  the  agitated 
monarch  was  waiting  to  embrace  his  heroic  consort, 
and  the  fair  boy  whom  he  had  been  prevailed  upon 
to  deprive  of  his  birthright.  The  ' '  meek  usurper ' ' 
kissed  and  embraced  them  both  with  great  gratitude 
and  joy.  He  then  conferred  on  his  child  the  honour 
of  knighthood,  after  which  the  royal  party  re- 
paired to  the  abbey  church  of  St.  Albans,  in  which 


30  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

they  solemnly  returned  thanks  to  Heaven  for  the 
victory  which  had  been  vouchsafed  to  them. 

To  enter  London,  and  to  restore  her  consort  to 
his  palace  and  his  throne,  were  the  paramount  ob- 
jects of  Margaret.  The  citizens,  however,  refused 
to  admit  her  within  their  gates ;  the  lord -mayor 
sending  her  word  that  he  only  was  her  friend.  In 
the  mean  time,  the  Duke  of  York  had  succeeded  in 
uniting  his  army  with  the  scattered  troops  of  War- 
wick, and  was  rapidly  advancing  from  Hereford- 
shire with  a  far  superior  force.  Under  these  cir- 
cumstances the  queen  had  no  choice  but  to  retrace 
her  steps  to  the  north,  whither  she  accordingly  re- 
treated with  her  husband  and  child.  There,  as  we 
have  seen,  her  adherents  were  both  numerous  and 
devotedly  attached  to  her  cause,  and  there  she 
hoped  again  to  make  head  against  her  adversaries. 

In  due  time  the  new  Duke  of  York  made  his  ap- 
pearance before  the  gates  of  London,  which  he 
entered  amidst  the  joyful  acclamations  of  the 
people.  His  youth,  the  fiery  valour  which  he  had 
displayed  in  battle,  his  recent  victories  at  North- 
ampton and  Mortimer's  Cross,  the  irresistible  fas- 
cination of  his  address,  and  lastly  his  stately 
height  and  the  singular  beauty  of  his  countenance, 
excited  a  feeling  of  enthusiasm  in  his  favour  which 
it  would  be  difficult  to  exaggerate.  With  one  ac- 
cord, the  crowds  which  visited  his  camp  in  St. 
John's  Fields,  Clerkenwell,  acknowledged  and 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  31 

greeted  him  as  their  king.  In  the  mean  time  a 
meeting,  consisting  of  the  lords  spiritual  and  tem- 
poral and  of  the  chief  magistrates  of  London,  had 
been  convened  in  Baynard's  Castle,  for  the  purpose 
of  solemnly  discussing  his  claims.  The  determina- 
tion at  which  they  arrived  was  an  unanimous  one. 
They  declared  that  King  Henry,  by  breaking  his 
recent  compact  with  parliament,  had  forfeited  all 
royal  authority  and  power;  further  pronouncing 
that  the  title  to  the  crown  of  England  lay  incon- 
testably  in  Edward  Earl  of  March,  son  of  the  late 
Duke  of  York,  whom  they  therefore  elected  and 
asserted  to  be  king  and  governor  of  this  realm. 
On  the  following  day  Edward  was  conducted  in 
great  state,  and  amidst  masses  of  shouting  citizens, 
from  Baynard's  Castle  to  Westminster.  In  the 
great  hall  of  Rufus,  seated  on  the  throne  of  the 
Plantagenets,  and  holding  the  sceptre  of  Edward 
the  Confessor  in  his  hand,  his  claims  to  the 
crown  were  recited  by  the  Archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury, who  inquired  of  the  assembled  multitude 
whether  Edward  of  York  should  be  their  king. 
The  vast  hall  rang  with  an  universal  acclamation  of 
assent,  whereupon,  according  to  ancient  usage,  the 
new  king  was  conducted  to  the  shrine  of  the  Con- 
fessor in  Westminster  Abbey,  where  he  offered  up 
his  devotions.  This  ceremony  being  over,  the 
barons  and  prelates  knelt  one  by  one  to  him,  and 
did  homage  to  him  as  their  sovereign.  On  the  4th 


32  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

of  March  1461,  lie  commenced  his  reign  as  King 
Edward  IV. 

In  the  mean  time  Queen  Margaret  had  succeeded 
in  levying  an  army  of  60,000  men.  The  force  at 
Edward's  command  is  said  to  have  consisted  of 
48,000  men,  at  the  head  of  which  he  marched 
northwards  to  give  her  battle.  Fortune,  at  the 
outset,  seemed  inclined  to  favour  the  Lancastrians. 
A  success  which  was  obtained  at  Ferrybridge  by 
Lord  Clifford,  over  an  advanced  body  of  the  York- 
ists under  Lord  Fitzwalter,  raised  immoderate 
hopes  in  the  hearts  of  Margaret  and  her  friends. 
They  were  destined,  however,  to  meet  with  signal 
disappointment.  On  Palm  Sunday  the  two  armies 
came  in  sight  of  each  other  in  the  open  country  be- 
tween Saxton  and  Towton.  As  Warwick  surveyed 
the  superior  force  with  which  he  was  about  to  con- 
tend, the  stout  heart  of  the  great  earl  seems  almost 
to  have  failed  him.  The  weakness,  however,  was 
but  a  momentary  one.  Ordering  his  charger  to  be 
led  to  him,  he  stabbed  it  in  the  face  of  the  whole 
army,  at  the  same  time  solemnly  swearing,  on  the 
cross  which  formed  the  hilt  of  his  sword,  that  on 
that  day  his  hazards  and  those  of  the  common 
soldier  should  be  the  same,  and  that,  though  the 
whole  of  the  king's  army  should  take  to  flight,  he 
would  oppose  himself  alone  to  the  swords  of  the 
Lancastrians. 

Of  all  the  battles  between  the  rival  Roses,  none 


KING    RICHARD    THE  THIRD.  33 

was  more  fiercely  contested,  none  lasted  for  a 
greater  number  of  hours,  than  that  of  Towton. 
At  length  the  fiery  valour  of  Edward,  and  the  mili- 
tary experience  of  Warwick,  prevailed  over  su- 
perior numbers,  and  the  Lancastrians  were  totally 
routed.  No  quarter  was  given ;  the  carnage  was 
terrific.  The  buriers  of  the  dead  counted  38,000 
corpses.  Among  the  slain  were  discovered  the 
bodies  of  the  Earls  of  Westmoreland  and  North- 
umberland, of  the  Lords  Welles  and  Dacre  of  Gilles- 
land.  The  Earl  of  Devon  was  beheaded  after  the 
battle.  Immediately  after  his  victory  the  young- 
king  proceeded  to  York,  where  he  removed  the 
heads  of  his  father  and  of  his  kinsman  the  Earl  of 
Salisbury  from  the  gates  of  the  city,  setting  up  in 
their  stead  the  heads  of  the  Earl  of  Devon,  and  of 
others  whom  he  had  caused  to  be  decapitated  after 
the  battle.  In  one  respect  the  hopes  of  the  young 
king  were  sadly  disappointed.  He  had  trusted,  by 
obtaining  possession  of  the  persons  of  King  Henry, 
and  especially  of  Queen  Margaret  and  her  child,  to 
crush  for  ever  the  hopes  of  the  house  of  Lancaster. 
The  energetic  queen,  however,  contrived  to  escape 
with  her  husband  and  son  to  Berwick,  from  which 
place  they  subsequently  fled  to  Scotland. 

For  three  years  after  the  battle  of  Towton, 
Edward  was  permitted  to  continue  in  quiet  posses- 
sion of  his  throne,  and  in  the  entire  enjoyment  of 
his  voluptuous  pleasures.  The  spirit  of  the  inde- 


34  KING    KICHAED   THE   THIRD. 

fatigable  Margaret,  however,  remained  unsubdued 
by  defeat  or  disaster,  and  accordingly,  having 
obtained  the  aid  of  two  thousand  men  from  Louis 
XI.  of  France,  she  summoned  her  Lancastrian  par- 
tisans to  repair  to  her  standard,  and  once  more  took 
the  field.  Fortune,  on  this  occasion,  scarcely  even 
smiled  on  her.  She  was  speedily  encountered  by 
the  Marquis  of  Montagu,  brother  of  the  Earl  of 
Warwick,  who  signally  defeated  her  at  Hexham. 

o  v 

Her  partisans,  the  Duke  of  Somerset,  and  the  Lords 
Hungerford  and  Ross,  were  taken  prisoners  and 
immediately  beheaded. 

The  romantic  adventures  which  befell  Margaret 
of  Anjou  after  the  battle  of  Hexham  are  well 
known.  Flying  with  her  beloved  child  from  the 
scene  of  slaughter  and  defeat,  her  only  hope  of 
escaping  from  their  foes  lay  in  the  darkness  of  the 
night,  and  in  being  able  to  penetrate  the  gloomy 
mazes  of  Hexham  Forest.  But  scarcely  had  the 
forest  been  gained,  when  the  royal  fugitives  were 
beset  by  a  band  of  robbers,  who,  besides  stripping 
them  of  their  jewels  and  costly  upper  garments, 
treated  them  with  much  indignity.  Fortunately 
the  richness  of  the  booty,  and  the  difficulty  which 
the  brigands  found  in  partitioning  it  to  the  satis- 
faction of  all,  induced  a  quarrel,  and  then  a  con- 
flict, among  the  band.  The  queen  took  advantage 
of  the  confusion,  and  fled  with  her  child  to  a 
denser  part  of  the  forest.  Without  food,  and 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  35 

without  sufficient  raiment  to  protect  them  from  the 
chills  of  the  night,  they  were  wandering  they  knew 
not  where,  when  suddenly,  by  the  light  of  the 
moon,  they  beheld  a  man  of  giant  stature,  and  of 
forbidding  aspect,  approaching  them  with  a  drawn 
sword.  Fortunately  the  courage  of  the  intrepid 
Margaret  rose  with  the  occasion;  her  resolution 
was  formed  on  the  instant.  Advancing  towards  the 
robber,  for  such  he  proved  to  be,  she  presented  to 
him  the  young  prince,  exclaiming, — "  My  friend, 
to  your  care  I  commit  the  safety  of  the  son  of  your 
king. ' '  It  happened  providentially  that  the  man 
was  by  nature  of  a  generous  and  humane  disposi- 
tion. Impulsively  he  knelt  to  her,  and  even  shed 
tears.  Margaret,  in  fact,  could  scarcely  have  met 
with  a  more  valuable  protector.  Carrying  the  way- 
worn Prince  of  Wales  in  his  arms,  he  led  the  way 
to  his  place  of  concealment,  a  retreat  still  pointed 
out  as  ' '  Queen  Margaret's  cave. ' '  Subsequently  the 
generous  robber  performed  further  good  service,  by 
conducting  to  the  queen  more  than  one  unfortunate 
Lancastrian  gentleman  who  had  contrived  to  escape 
the  slaughter  of  Hexham.  Among  these  were 
Henry  Holland,  Duke  of  Exeter,  and  Edmund 
Beaufort,  now  Duke  of  Somerset.  By  the  assist- 
ance of  the  freebooter,  not  only  the  queen  and  the 
prince,  but  the  other  hunted  fugitives,  were  en- 
abled to  reach  the  sea-coast,  from  whence  they 
obtained  shipping  to  Flanders.  De  Commines  tells 


36  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

us  that  some  time  afterwards  he  saw  the  Duke  of 
Exeter  running  barefooted  after  the  Duke  of  Bur- 
gundy's train,  begging  in  the  name  of  God  for 
bread  to  satisfy  his  hunger.  The  fate  of  the  last 
of  the  Beauforts  was  yet  more  miserable.  After 
the  battle  of  Tewkesbury,  where  he  commanded 
the  Lancastrian  army,  he  was  dragged  from  a 
church  where  he  had  sought  refuge,  and  immedi- 
ately beheaded. 

In  the  mean  time  the  escape  of  the  unhappy 
Henry  VI.  had  been  even  a  more  narrow  one  than 
those  of  his  wife  and  child.  In  the  flight  after  the 
battle,  "  King  Henry,"  according  to  the  chronicler 
Hall,  "was  the  last  horseman  of  his  company." 
So  hot  was  the  pursuit  that  an  attendant  who  rode 
behind  him,  bearing  the  royal  cap  of  state,  was 
overtaken  and  made  prisoner.  For  about  a  year, 
the  hunted  king  remained  concealed  in  different 
hiding-places  in  Westmoreland  and  Lancashire. 
At  length,  his  retreat  having  been  betrayed  by  a 
monk  of  Abingdon,  he  was  arrested  as  he  sat  at 
dinner  at  Waddington  Hall,  in  the  latter  county, 
and  again  committed  a  prisoner  to  the  Tower.  Ac- 
cording to  the  prejudiced  accounts  of  the  Lancas- 
trian historians,  when  the  pious  monarch  made  his 
entry  into  London,  it  was  with  his  legs  strapped 
under  the  belly  of  his  horse,  and  with  an  offensive 
inscription  placarded  on  his  back,  in  which  de- 
graded condition,  we  are  told,  he  was  conducted 


KING   KICHAKD   THE   THIRD.  37 

through  the  populous  district  of  Cheap  and  Corn- 
hill  to  his  former  apartments  in  the  Tower.  The 
account,  however,  of  a  more  faithful  contemporary, 
the  chronicler  of  Croyland,  in  no  degree  substan- 
tiates the  assertion  that  Henry  was  subjected  to 
this  ignominious  treatment.  On  the  contrary,  Ed- 
ward, we  are  told,  gave  orders  that  "all  possible 
humanity,"  not  inconsistent  with  safe  custody, 
should  be  shown  to  the  illustrious  and  afflicted 
prisoner. 

The  motives  which,  in  1469,  induced  the  Earl  of 
Warwick  to  rebel  against  his  sovereign  and  friend, 
and  the  Duke  of  Clarence  against  his  brother,  will 
probably  never  be  satisfactorily  explained.  Their 
treason,  for  a  time,  was  eminently  successful ; 
Edward  was  eventually  compelled  to  fly  from  his 
kingdom.  This  flight  of  his  rival  once  more  opened 
for  the  unfortunate  Henry  the  door  of  his  prison- 
house.  He  was  waited  upon  in  his  solitary  chamber 
in  the  Tower  by  the  Duke  of  Clarence,  the  Earl  of 
Warwick,  Lord  Stanley,  and  other  noblemen,  who, 
with  great  ceremony  and  respect,  conducted  him 
to  the  royal  apartments  in  the  palatial  fortress. 
Once  more,  and  for  the  last  time,  he  wore  the  trap- 
pings of  monarchy,  and  listened  to  adulations  and 
professions  of  loyalty  of  which  he  had  long  since 
learned  the  hollo wness.  Arrayed  in  a  mantle  of 
blue  velvet,  and  wearing  the  kingly  crown  upon  his 
head,  he  proceeded  in  solemn  state  to  St.  Paul's 


38  KIXG    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

Cathedral,  where,  amidst  the  empty  shouts  of  the 
fickle  populace,  he  returned  thanks  to  Heaven  for 
a  deliverance  which  was  destined  to  be  followed  by 
worse  sorrows,  and  for  the  recovery  of  a  crown 
which  doubtless  he  secretly  regarded  as  a  burden. 

Leaving  King  Edward  for  a  time  in  poverty  and 
exile,  and  King  Henry  in  the  possession  of  his  brief 
authority,  let  us  now  revert  to  the  extraordinary 
prince  whose  story  forms  the  principal  subject  of 
these  memoirs. 


CHAPTER  II. 

BIRTH,    PARENTAGE,    AND    EARLY    LIFE    OF    RICHARD 
OF   GLOUCESTER. 

T)  ICHARD  Duke  of  Gloucester,  afterwards  King 
'-^  Richard  III.,  was  born  in  the  princely  castle 
of  Fotheringay  in  Northamptonshire  on  the  2nd  of 
October  1452.*  He  was  the  eleventh  child  of  Richard 
Plantagenet,  Duke  of  York,  and  was  sixth  in  de- 
scent from  King  Edward  III.  His  mother  was 
Cecily,  daughter  of  Ralph  Neville,  Earl  of  West- 
moreland, by  Joan  Beaufort,  daughter  of  John  of 
Gaunt,  Duke  of  Lancaster. 

The  Duchess  of  York — or  the  ' '  Rose  of  Raby, ' ' 
as  she  was  designated  in  the  north  of  England- 
was,  by  the  death  of  her  husband,  left  a  widow 
with  a  numerous  offspring.  Only  a  year  or  two 
previously, — happy  in  the  society  of  her  illustrious 
lord,  and  watching  the  sports  of  her  young  chil- 
dren in  the  noble  halls  of  Middleham  or  Baynard's 
Castle, — how  little  could  she  have  anticipated  the 
bloody  wars  which  were  about  to  devastate  her 
native  country,  and  the  misfortunes  which  impended 
over  her  house!  Seldom  have  greater  sorrows 

*  William  of  Worcester's  Annals,  Liber  Niger  Scaccarii,  vol.  ii.  p. 
477. 

39 


40  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

fallen  to  the  lot  of  woman,  and  never  perhaps  were 
sorrows  borne  with  greater  magnanimity.  Her  be- 
loved husband  perished  at  the  battle  of  Wake- 
field.*  For  months  his  severed  head  remained  a 
ghastly  object  on  the  gates  of  York.  In  the  same 
battle  was  slain  her  third  son,  the  young  Edmund 
Earl  of  Rutland.  Her  fourth  surviving  son, 
George  Duke  of  Clarence,  died  a  traitor's  death  in 
the  dungeons  of  the  Tower.  Her  eldest  son,  after- 
wards King  Edward  IV.,  died  from  the  effects  of 
intemperance  and  sensuality,  in  the  prime  of  his 
days.  She  lived  to  see  the  sons  of  this  mighty 
monarch  miserably  immured  in  the  Tower,  destined 
to  carry  with  them  to  their  early  graves  the  awful 
secrets  of  their  prison-house.  Lastly,  she  survived 
to  see  her  son  Richard  close  his  errors  or  his  crimes 
by  a  bloody  death  on  the  field  of  Bosworth.  It 
was  the  singular  fortune  of  this  illustrious  lady  to 
have  lived  in  the  reigns  of  five  sovereigns,  to  have 
been  the  contemporary  of  six  queens  of  England, 
and  of  five  princes  of  Wales,  f 

The  character  of  this  beautiful  woman  was  in 
many  respects  peculiar  to  the  high-born  matrons  of 
the  middle  ages.  Inheriting  the  lofty  spirit  of  the 
Nevilles  and  of  the  Plantagenets,  she  entered  fully 
into  the  ambitious  projects  of  the  powerful  lord 
with  whom  her  fate  was  united.  From  the  day  on 

*  30th  December  1460. 

f  Archa'ologia,  vol.  xiii.  p.  1(5. 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  41 

which  he  had  demanded  the  head  of  the  obnoxious 
Somerset  at  the  gates  of  London  till  he  himself 
perished  by  the  sword  at  the  battle  of  Wakefield, 
she  seems  to  have  been  his  constant  companion  in 
the  day  of  adversity,  the  willing  sharer  of  his 
perils.  If,  on  the  one  hand,  her  ambition  was  un- 
bounded, and  her  pride  of  birth  so  overweening  as 
almost  to  amount  to  extravagance,  she  nevertheless 
figures  as  an  affectionate  and  discerning  mother, 
and  a  pious  Christian.  If  scandal  whispered  that 
in  her  youth  she  had  been  unfaithful  to  her  lord, 
her  widowhood,  at  all  events,  was  an  exemplary 
one.  For  her  sons  she  secured  the  best  education 
of  which  the  age  would  permit,  devoting  herself 
with  unwearying  care  to  the  advancement  of  their 
spiritual  as  well  as  their  temporal  welfare,  and  pre- 
paring them  to  play  a  part  in  the  world  suitable  to 
their  royal  birth  and  the  stormy  times  in  which  they 
lived. 

The  princely  fortune  enjoyed  by  the  widowed 
duchess  was  in  accordance  with  her  exalted  rank. 
At  the  several  patrimonial  residences  of  the  house 
of  York — at  Middleham,  Fotheringay,  Sandal,  and 
Berkhampstead,  at  each  of  which  she  occasionally 
resided  with  her  youthful  family, — the  magnifi- 
cence of  her  mode  of  living  was  surpassed  only  by 
the  decorum  which  ever  prevailed  in  her  household. 
"  Sheuseth,"  writes  a  contemporary,  "  to  arise  at 
seven  of  the  clock,  and  hath  ready  her  chaplain  to 


42  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD. 

say  with  her  matins  of  the  day  and  matins  of  our 
Lady ;  and  when  she  is  full  ready  she  hath  a  low 
mass  in  her  chamber ;  and  after  mass  she  taketh 
something  to  recreate  nature,  and  so  goeth  to  the 
chapel,  hearing  the  divine  service  and  two  low 
masses.  From  thence  to  dinner,  during  the  time 
whereof  she  hath  a  lecture  of  holy  matter.  After 
dinner  she  giveth  audience  to  all  such  as  have  any 
matter  to  show  unto  her  by  the  space  of  one  hour, 
and  then  sleepeth  one  quarter  of  an  hour,  and  after 
she  hath  slept  she  continueth  in  prayer  unto  the 
first  peal  of  even-song;  then  she  drinketh  wine  or 
ale  at  her  pleasure.  Forthwith  her  chaplain  is 
ready  to  say  with  her  both  even-songs ;  and  after 
the  last  peal  she  goeth  to  the  chapel,  and  heareth 
even-song  by  note.  From  thence  to  supper,  and  in 
the  time  of  supper  she  reciteth  the  lecture  that  was 
had  at  dinner  to  those  that  be  in  her  presence. 
After  supper  she  disposeth  herself  to  be  familiar 
with  her  gentlewomen,  to  the  season  of  honest 
mirth ;  and  one  hour  before  her  going  to  bed  she 
taketh  a  cup  of  wine ;  and,  after  that,  goeth  to  her 
privy  closet  and  taketh  her  leave  of  God  for  all 
night ;  making  end  of  her  prayers  for  that  day, 
and  by  eight  of  the  clock  is  in  bed."  *  Such  is  the 
curious  picture  which  we  possess  of  the  manner  in 
which  an  illustrious  lady  passed  her  hours  in  the 
fifteenth  century.  Such  was  the  household  which 

*  Ordinances  for  the  Government  of  the  Royal  Household,  p.  37. 


KING   EICHAKD   THE   THIRD.  43 

sheltered  the  boyhood  of  the  celebrated  Richard  of 
Gloucester ;  such  the  mother  from  whom  he  alike  de- 
rived the  good  qualities  which  were  the  ornament 
of  his  youth,  and  inherited  the  ambition  which,  at 
a  later  period,  incited  him  to  the  commission  of 
crime. 

Though  at  the  time  a  mere  child,  Richard  of 
Gloucester  was  a  witness  of  those  early  struggles 
between  the  houses  of  York  and  Lancaster  which 
hurried  his  father  York  to  the  grave,  and  eventu- 
ally raised  his  brother  Edward  to  the  throne.  At 
the  period  when  the  loss  of  the  battle  of  Bloreheath 
compelled  his  father  to  fly  for  shelter  in  the  fast- 
nesses of  Ireland,  Richard  was  in  his  seventh  year. 
When,  shortly  after  the  battle,  King  Henry  entered 
Ludlow  Castle  in  triumph,  he  found  there  the 
Duchess  of  York,  whom,  with  her  two  younger 
sons,  he  committed,  in  the  first  instance,  to  the 
charge  of  her  sister,  Anne  Duchess  of  Buckingham.* 
For  nearly  a  year  Richard  remained  a  prisoner 
with  his  mother  in  the  hands  of  the  Lancastrians, 
till  at  length  the  victory  obtained  by  the  Yorkists 
at  Northampton  restored  them  to  liberty.  Three 
months  after  the  battle  we  find  the  ' '  Rose  of  Raby ' ' 
in  London  with  her  young  children  George  and 
Richard,  afterwards  Dukes  of  Clarence  and  Glouces- 
ter, and  her  daughter  Margaret,  afterwards  Duchess 
of  Burgundy.  But  though  the  metropolis  was  now 

*  Leland's  Collect,  vol.  ii.  p.  497  ;  Hearne's  Fragment,  pp.  283-4. 


44  KING    RICHAED    THE    THIRD. 

in  the  hands  of  the  Earl  of  Warwick  and  of  her 
victorious  son  the  Earl  of  March,  there  seem  to 
have  been  reasons  why  London  was  still  no  secure 
place  of  retreat  for  the  high-born  lady  and  her 
children.  Accordingly,  instead  of  taking  up  her 
abode  at  the  celebrated  Baynard's  Castle,  the  Lon- 
don residence  of  her  lord,  we  find  her  concealed 
with  her  children  in  an  obscure  retreat  in  the  Tem- 
ple. The  chambers  which  sheltered  the  illustrious 
party  were  those  of  Sir  John  Paston,  a  devoted 
partisan  of  the  house  of  York,  who  was  at  this  time 
absent  at  Norwich.  The  important  event  of  their 
seeking  shelter  under  his  roof  is  thus  communicated 
to  Sir  John  in  October  1460,  by  his  confidential 
servant  Christopher  Hausson. 

"  To  tlie  Right  Worshipful  Sir  and  Master  John 
Paston,  Esquire,  at  Norwich,  be  this  letter  deliv- 
ered in  haste. 

' '  Right  worshipful  Sir  and  Master,  I  recommend 
me  unto  you.  Please  you,  to  weet,  the  Monday 
after  our  Lady-day,  there  come  hither  to  my  mas- 
ter's place  my  Master  Bowser,  Sir  Harry  Ratford, 
John  Clay,  and  the  harbinger  of  my  Lord  of  March, 
desiring  that  my  Lady  of  York  might  be  here  until 
the  coming  of  my  Lord  of  York,  and  her  two  sons, 
my  Lord  George  and  my  Lord  Richard,  and  my 
Lady  Margaret,  her  daughter,  which  I  granted 
them  in  your  name,  to  lie  here  till  Michaelmas. 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  45 

And  she  had  not  lain  here  two  days,  but  she  had 
tidings  of  the  landing  of  my  Lord  at  Chester.  The 
Tuesday  after,  my  lord  sent  for  her  that  she  should 
come  to  him  to  Hereford ;  and  thither  she  is  gone ; 
and  she  hath  left  here  both  the  sons  and  the  daugh- 
ter, and  the  Lord  of  March  cometh  every  day  to  see 
them."* 

A  few  days  afterwards,  the  Duke  of  York  entered 
London  in  triumph,  and  restored  his  wife  and  chil- 
dren to  the  condition  which  was  due  to  their  ex- 
alted birth. 

But  though  the  house  of  York  was  destined 
finally  to  be  triumphant,  many  reverses  and  mis- 
fortunes were  still  in  store  for  its  numerous  mem- 
bers. The  return,  indeed,  of  Margaret  of  Anjou 
from  Scotland,  and  the  fatal  result  of  the  battle  of 
Wakelield,  seemed  to  threaten  a  total  annihilation 
of  their  hopes.  In  that  battle  the  ' '  Rose  of  Raby ' ' 
lost  not  only  her  husband,  but  also  her  young  and 
beautiful  son  the  Earl  of  Rutland.  She  now  began 
to  tremble  for  the  safety  of  her  younger  sons, 
whose  lives,  had  they  chanced  to  have  fallen  into 
the  power  of  the  implacable  Margaret,  would  in  all 
probability  have  been  sacrificed  to  her  revenge. 
Happily  for  the  house  of  York,  their  great  kins- 
man, the  Earl  of  Warwick,  still  held  the  command 
of  the  seas.  Accordingly,  with  the  aid  of  the  earl, 
the  Duchess  of  York  contrived  to  effect  the  removal 

*  Paston  Letters,  by  Fenn,  vol.  i.  p.  199. 


46  KIXG    KICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

of  her  children  to  the  Low  Countries,  where  they 
had  the  good  fortune  to  meet  with  a  kind  and  gen- 
erous reception  from  Philip  Duke  of  Burgundy. 
It  happened  that  the  court  of  that  accomplished 
prince  was  no  less  distinguished  for  the  encourage- 
ment of  literature  and  the  fine  arts,  than  for  the 
due  maintenance  and  exercise  of  the  ancient  laws 
and  customs  of  chivalry.  Examples,  therefore, 
were  constantly  before  them,  which  were  calculated 
to  produce  a  beneficial  and  lasting  effect  on  the 
minds  of  the  young  princes.  During  a  part  of  their 
stay  in  the  Low  Countries,  we  find  them  pursuing 
their  studies  under  able  instructors  in  the  city  of 
Utrecht.* 

In  the  mean  time,  the  struggle  in  England  be- 
tween the  rival  Roses  had  been  renewed  with  una- 
bating  vigour  and  fury.  The  young  Earl  of  March 
had  succeeded  to  his  father's  title  of  Duke  of  York, 
and  with  it  to  his  father's  claims  to  the  throne. 
Those  claims,  though  only  in  his  twentieth  year, 
he  proceeded  to  assert  and  uphold  with  an  ability, 
enterprise,  and  fearlessness,  which  would  have  re- 
flected credit  on  the  wisest  statesmen  and  ablest 
generals  of  the  age.  At  Mortimer's  Cross  he  gave 
battle  to,  and  defeated,  the  army  of  King  Henry, 
and,  though  his  troops  under  the  Earl  of  Warwick 
were  repulsed  at  St.  Albans,  he  nevertheless  pushed 

*  Buck's   Life   and  Reign   of  Richard   III.  in    Rennet's  Complete 
History,  vol.  i.  p.  516 ;  Sandibrd,  Gen.  Hist,  book  v.  p.  430. 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  47 

forward  to  London,  which,  as  we  have  previously 
recorded,  he  entered  amidst  the  acclamations  of  the 
people,  and  a  day  or  two  afterwards  mounted  the 
throne  by  the  title  of  King  Edward  IV. 

Edward  no  sooner  found  the  sceptre  secure  in  his 
grasp  than  he  recalled  his  younger  brothers  from 
the  Low  Countries.  On  George,  now  in  his  twelfth 
year,  he  conferred  the  title  of  Duke  of  Clarence ; 
Richard,  who  was  only  in  his  ninth  year,  he  created 
Duke  of  Gloucester.*  It  may  be  mentioned  that, 
in  the  days  of  chivalry  of  which  we  are  writing, 
whenever  a  royal  or  noble  youth  had  arrived  at  an 
age  when  it  was  considered  no  longer  desirable  that 
he  should  be  kept  in  the  society  and  under  the  care 
of  women,  it  was  customary  to  obtain  his  admission 
into  the  establishment  of  some  powerful  baron,  in 
order  that  he  might  duly  acquire  those  accomplish- 
ments which  were  presumed  to  be  necessary  to 
support  the  knightly  character.  That  Edward 
should  have  selected  the  establishment  of  his  re- 
nowned kinsman,  the  Earl  of  Warwick,  as  offering 
the  most  eligible  school  for  training  up  his  younger 
brothers  to  distinguish  themselves  in  the  tilt-yard 
and  the  battle-field,  is  not  only  not  unlikely,  but 
the  following  circumstances  render  it  extremely 
probable.  Edward  himself  would  seem  to  have 
been  indebted  for  his  military  education  to  War- 
wick f ;  we  have  evidence  of  the  anxiety  of  the 

*  Dugdale's  Baronage,  vol  ii.  pp.  162,  165. 

t  Memoires  de  P.  de  Commines,  tome  i.  p.  232.     Paris,  1840. 


48  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

young  king  to  render  his  brothers  as  accomplished 
soldiers  as  he  was  himself ;  there  is  extant,  in  the 
archives  of  the  exchequer,  a  contemporary  entry  of 
moneys  ' '  paid  to  Richard  Earl  of  Warwick  for 
costs  and  expenses  incurred  by  him  on  behalf  of 
the  Duke  of  Gloucester,  the  king's  brother,"* 
besides  other  evidence  showing  that  Gloucester  was 
at  least  once  a  guest  at  Middleham  f ;  and,  lastly, 
we  find  the  future  usurper  retaining  an  affectionate 
partiality  for  Middleham  to  the  close  of  his  event- 
ful career 4  Under  these  circumstances,  to  what 
other  conclusion  can  we  arrive  than  that  Middleham 
was  once  the  home  of  Gloucester?  And,  if  such 
was  the  case,  with  what  other  object  could  he  have 
been  so  domesticated  but  for  the  advantages  to  be 
derived  from  the  precepts  of  the  renowned  War- 
wick, and  being  educated  in  the  vast  military 
establishment  which  was  supported  by  the  most 
powerful  of  the  barons  ?  The  mention  of  Middleham 
recalls  to  us  the  romantic  attachment  which  Richard 
subsequently  conceived  for  Anne  Neville,  the 
youngest  and  fairest  daughter  of  the  ' '  King- 
maker, ' '  an  attachment  w^hich  would  of  itself  have 
been  a  subject  of  no  mean  interest,  even  had  Shak- 
speare  not  invested  it  with  immortality.  Anne  was 
his  junior  only  by  two  years.  May  it  not,  then, 

*  Halsted's  Richard  III.  vol.  i.  p.  113. 

f  Buck  in  Kennet,  vol.  i.  p.  516. 

J  Whitaker's  History  of  Eichmondshire,  vol.  i.  p.  335. 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  49 

have  been  at  Middleham,  in  the  days  of  their  child- 
hood, that  Richard  was  first  inspired  by  that 
memorable  passion  which  was  destined  to  triumph 
over  all  human  opposition, — which  continued  to 
nerve  his  arm,  and  to  fire  his  soul,  even  when  Anne 
Neville  had  become  the  betrothed,  if  not  the  bride, 
of  another,  and  which  was  eventually  rewarded  by 
her  becoming  his  wife,  and  finally  his  queen. 

Of  the  boyhood  of  Richard  of  Gloucester,  unfortu- 
nately but  few  particulars  have  been  handed  down  to 
us.  The  diligent  inquirer,  Hutton,  could  discover  no 
more  important  facts  than  that  the  wisest,  wiliest, 
and  bravest  prince  of  his  age,  ' '  cuckt  his  ball,  and 
shot  his  taw,  with  the  same  delight  as  other  lads."* 
Only  on  one  occasion,  in  his  boyhood,  we  find  him 
playing  a  prominent  part  on  the  stage  of  the  world. 
From  the  day  on  which  the  Red  Rose  had  proved 
triumphant  at  Waken1  eld,  till  that  on  which  victory 
again  decided  in  favour  of  the  White  Rose  on  the 
field  of  Towton,  the  ghastly  head  of  Richard  Duke 
of  York  had  been  allowed  to  disfigure  the  battle- 
ments of  the  city  from  which  he  had  derived  his 
title.  In  the  mean  time  his  headless  remains  had 
rested  at  Pontefract,  where  they  had  been  hur- 
riedly and  ignobly  committed  to  the  grave.  Young 
Edward  no  sooner  found  himself  triumphant  over 
his  adversaries,  than  he  performed  the  pious  duty 
of  causing  his  father's  head  to  be  removed  from 

*  Plutton's  Battle  of  Bosworth  Field,  Introd.  p.  xvii. 


50  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

the  gates  of  York,  preparatory  to  reinterring  the 
great  warrior  with  a  magnificence  suitable  to  his 
rank.  Descended  from,  and  destined  to  be  ances- 
tor of  kings,  the  remains  of  Richard  of  York 
might  without  impropriety  have  been  awarded  a 
grave  in  the  memorable  burial-place  of  the  sover- 
eigns of  the  house  of  Plantagenet,  in  Westminster 
Abbey.  To  that  deeply  interesting  group  of  monu- 
ments, which  surround  the  shrine  of  Edward  the 
Confessor,  the  effigy  of  the  illustrious  chieftain 
would  have  formed  no  unworthy  addition.  But 
the  young  king  preferred  for  the  mightiest  of  the 
barons  a  baron's  resting-place.  In  the  chancel  of 
the  collegiate  church  of  Fotheringay,  near  the  re- 
mains of  his  father  Edward  Duke  of  York,  who 
was  slain  at  Agincourt,  Richard  of  York  was  rein- 
terred,  on  the  29th  of  July  1466,  with  a  magnifi- 
cence befitting  the  obsequies  of  kings.  Followed 
by  an  array  of  nobles  and  pursuivants,  Richard 
Duke  of  Gloucester  rode  next  after  the  corpse  of 
his  father,  in  its  melancholy  journey  from  Ponte- 
fract  to  Fotheringay.  Awaiting  its  arrival  in  the 
churchyard  of  Fotheringay,  stood  the  king  and 
queen  in  deep  mourning,  attended  by  the  two  eldest 
princesses  and  the  principal  nobles  and  ladies  of 
the  land.  The  ceremony  of  reinterment  must  have 
presented  a  striking  and  deeply  interesting  scene. 
On  the  verge  of  the  vault  were  to  be  seen  the  lofty 
form  of  King  Edward,  the  handsomest  prince  of 


KING   RICHARD   THE  THIRD.  51 

his  age* ;  his  beautiful  queen,  Elizabeth  Woodville ; 
their  infant  daughter,  Elizabeth,  who  was  destined 
to  succeed  her  father  on  the  throne ;  the  slight  fig- 
ure and  thoughtful  features  of  Richard  of  Glou- 
cester; and,  lastly,  the  mild  and  melancholy  face 
of  Margaret  Countess  of  Richmond,  wrho,  like  the 
illustrious  dead  upon  whose  coffin  she  was  gazing, 
was  also  destined  to  be  the  ancestor  of  kings,  f  Of 
that  memorable  party,  Margaret  alone  outlived  the 
prime  and  vigour  of  life,  and  enjoyed  a  tranquil 
and  respected  old  age. 

Richard,  even  in  early  boyhood,  appears  to  have 
enjoyed  the  confidence  and  affection  of  his  brother 
Edward.  The  wealth  and  estates  which  the  king 
from  time  to  time  put  him  in  possession  of,  seem 
almost  incredible.  In  1462  he  conferred  on  him  a 
large  portion  of  the  domains  of  John  Lord  Clifford, 
who  was  killed  at  the  battle  of  Towton.;}:  The  same 

*  M&noires  de  Commines,  vol.  i.  p.  239. 

f  Sandford's  Genealogical  Hist,  of  England,  book  v.  pp.  391-2.  At 
the  same  time  with  those  of  York  were  reinterred  the  remains  of  his 
third  son,  Edmund  Earl  of  Rutland,  who  was  killed  by  Lord  Clifford  at 
the  battle  of  Wakefield,  and  whose  head  had  also  disfigured  the  battle- 
ments of  York.  Thirty-one  years  afterwards,  the  remains  of  the  "  Rose 
of  Raby"  were  laid,  according  to  a  desire  which  she  had  expressed  in 
her  will,  by  the  side  of  her  husband.  When,  in  the  reign  of  Queen 
Elizabeth,  her  coffin  happened  to  be  opened,  there  was  discovered,  we 
are  told,  "  about  her  neck,  hanging  on  a  silk  riband,  a  pardon  from 
Rome,  which,  penned  in  a  fine  Roman  hand,  was  as  fair  and  fresh  to  be 
read  as  if  it  had  been  written  but  the  day  before."  The  duchess  died 
in  Berkhampstead  Castle  on  the  31st  of  May  1495.  Sandford,  Gen. 
Hist,  book  iv.  p.  387  ;  book  v.  pp.  391-± 

t  Cal.  Rot.  Pat.  p.  304,  m.  xiii. 


52  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

year  he  gave  him  the  castle  and  fee-farm  of  the 
town  of  Gloucester,  and  the  castle  and  lordship  of 
Richmond  in  Yorkshire,  lately  belonging  to  Ed- 
mund Earl  of  Richmond  ;  also  no  fewer  than  forty- 
six  manors  which  had  lapsed  to  the  crown  by  the 
attainder  of  John  de  Vere,  Earl  of  Oxford.*  In 
1464  he  granted  him  the  castles,  lordships,  and 
lands  of  Henry  de  Beaufort,  Duke  of  Somerset,  as 
well  as  the  castle  and  manors  of  Robert  Lord  Hun- 
gerford,  both  of  which  noblemen  had  been  beheaded 
after  the  battle  of  Hexham.f  Again,  when  the 
part  which  the  Nevilles  took  at  the  battle  of  Barnet 
deprived  them  of  their  magnificent  estates,  Edward 
conferred  on  his  brother,  for  his  ' '  great  and  laudable 
services,"  "Warwick's  princely  castles  of  Middle- 
ham  and  Sheriff-Hutton,  together  with  other  lands 
which  had  belonged  to  the  earl's  brother,  the  Mar- 
quis of  Montagu4  In  1465  Edward  created  his 
brother  a  knight  of  the  Garter,  and,  in  1469,  caused 
him  to  be  summoned  to  parliament. 

Not  satisfied  with  heaping  wealth  and  honours 
on  his  favourite  brother,  Edward  also  selected  him 
to  fill  appointments,  the  responsible  duties  of  which 
prove  how  entire  was  the  confidence  which  he 
placed  in  his  judgment  and  abilities.  In  1461  he 
appointed  him  high  admiral  of  England.  §  On  the 

*  Rotuli  Parliamentorum,  vol.  vi.  p.  228. ;  Cal.  Rot.  Pat.  p.  304,  m.  v. 

f  Cal.  Rot.  Pat.  m.  i.  p.  314. 

i  Rot.  Parl.  vol.  vi.  pp.  124-5 ;  Cal.  Rot.  Pat.  p.  316,  m.  xviii. 

I  Dugd.  Bar.  vol.  ii.  p.  1G5. 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  53 

27th  of  October  1469,  he  made  him  constable  of 
England,  and  justice  of  North  and  South  Wales.* 
The  following  year  he  nominated  him  to  be  warden 
of  the  Western  Marches,  bordering  on  Scotland,  f 
On  the  18th  of  May  1471,  he  was  made  lord-cham- 
berlain.^: In  1472  he  was  appointed  to  the  lucra- 
tive situation  of  keeper  of  the  king's  forests  beyond 
Trent  § ;  and,  lastly,  in  1474,  he  was  re-appointed 
to  the  office  of  lord-chamberlain.  | 

Such  were  the  high  offices  and  appointments 
which  King  Edward  conferred  upon  his  brother 
Richard,  almost  before  the  latter  had  completed  his 
twentieth  year.  It  must  be  remembered  that  not 
only  did  more  than  one  of  these  appointments  re- 
quire that  the  person  holding  them  should  be^  gifted 
with  singular  ability,  firmness,  and  judgment,  but 
that  they  also  conferred  on  him  an  authority  wrhich 
rendered  him  the  most  powerful  subject  in  the 
realm.  That  a  monarch,  therefore,  so  notoriously 
jealous  as  Edward  IV.,  who,  moreover,  had  already 
been  deceived  by  a  favourite  brother,  the  fickle  and 
ungrateful  Clarence,  should  have  conferred  on  a 
third  brother  wealth  so  vast  and  powers  so  great, 

*  Sandford,  Gen.  Hist,  book  v.  p.  430 ;  Dugd.  Bar.  vol.  ii.  p.  165. 

f  Ibid. 

J  This  appointment  he  surrendered  to  his  brother,  the  Duke  of 
Clarence,  on  his  being  appointed  a  second  time  constable  of  England, 
viz.  29th  February  1472.  Sandford,  Gen.  Hist,  book  v.  p.  431  ;  Dugd. 
Bar.  vol.  ii.  p.  166. 

\  Cal.  Rot.  Pat.  m.  x.  p.  317. 

||  Dugd.  Bar.  vol.  ii.  pp.  166. 


54  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

evinces  not  only  how  high  was  the  opinion  he  had 
formed  of  Richard's  talents,  but  also  how  great 
was  the  confidence  which  he  placed  in  his  loyalty 
and  integrity.  Indeed,  that  Richard  of  Gloucester 
was  to  the  last  the  faithful  and  loyal  subject  of 
Edward  IV.,  we  are  as  much  convinced  as  that  he 
was  afterwards  a  disloyal  subject  to  his  nephew 
Edward  V. 

A  conjecture  has  already  been  hazarded  in  these 
pages,  that  it  was  as  long  since  as  when  Richard 
was  learning  the  use  of  arms  and  the  accomplish- 
ments of  chivalry  in  the  halls  of  the  renowned 
Warwick,  that  he  first  became  enamoured  of  the 
youngest  and  gentlest  of  the  two  daughters  of  the 
Kingmaker.  It  was  destined,  indeed,  that  they 
should  hereafter  be  united  by  indissoluble  ties. 
As  yet,  however,  many  and  apparently  insurmount- 
able obstacles  interposed  between  Richard  and  the 
realization  of  the  hopes  of  his  boyhood. 

A  singular  and  romantic  interest  attaches  itself 
to  the  story  of  Isabel  and  Anne  Neville.  Born  to 
a  more  splendid  lot,  and  to  greater  vicissitudes  of 
fortune,  than  commonly  fall  to  the  lot  of  w^omen, 
the  career  of  both  was  destined  to  be  a  brief  and  a 
melancholy  one.  At  the  period  of  which  we  are 
writing,  nine  months  had  elapsed  since  the  Lady 
Isabel  had  given  her  hand,  in  the  church  of  Notre- 
Dame  at  Calais,  to  George  Duke  of  Clarence,  at 
that  time  the  nearest  male  heir  to  the  throne  of 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  55 

England.*  The  Lady  Anne,  at  tins  time,  was  on 
the  eve  of  being  betrothed  to  Edward  Prince  of 
Wales,  the  ill-fated  son  of  Henry  VI. 

When,  in  the  month  of  April  1470,  Warwick 
and  Clarence,  Hying  from  the  rapid  and  victorious 
pursuit  of  Edward,  set  sail  from  Dartmouth,  the 
Lady  Isabel  accompanied  her  husband  and  her 
father.  The  voyage  proved  to  be  a  singularly  haz- 
ardous and  inauspicious  one.  After  a  narrow  es- 
cape from  having  been  captured  by  the  royal  fleet, 
commanded  by  Earl  Rivers,  the  ship  in  which  they 
were  embarked  was  overtaken  by  a  violent  tempest, 
in  the  midst  of  the  perils  and  discomforts  of  which 
the  young  duchess  was  seized  in  labour  of  her  first 
child.  Mishap  followed  mishap.  On  reaching 
Calais,  John  Lord  Wenlock,  the  deputy-governor 
of  the  town  in  the  absence  of  Warwick,  not  only 
positively  refused  them  permission  to  land,  but 
fired  his  "great  guns  "  at  them.  The  only  favour 
which  they  could  obtain  from  him  was  a  present  of 
two  flagons  of  wine  for  the  use  of  the  duchess  and 
her  ladies. f  Accordingly  Warwick  set  sail  for 
Dieppe,  in  which  port  the  duchess  and  her  new- 

*The  marriage  ceremony  was  performed,  on  the  12th  of  July  1469, 
by  her  uncle,  George  Neville,  Archbishop  of  York,  in  the  presence  of 
her  father  the  Earl  of  Warwick,  then  governor  of  Calais,  her  mother, 
and  her  sister  the  Lady  Anne. 

t  De  Commines,  tome  i.  p.  235. 


56  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

born  infant  were  safely  landed.*  From  Dieppe  the 
earl,  accompanied  by  his  daughter  and  son-in-law, 
proceeded  to  Amboise,  in  which  town  the  cruel  and 
crafty  Louis  XI.  of  France  was  at  this  time  hold- 
ing his  court. f 

Warwick,  incensed  against  the  prince  whom  he 
had  formerly  so  loved,  and  whom  he  had  laid  under 
so  many  obligations, — ambitious,  moreover,  of 
securing  a  second  chance  of  founding  a  kingly 
dynasty  for  his  descendants, — had  for  his  chief 
object  at  this  period  the  union  of  his  younger 
daughter  Anne  with  Edward  Prince  of  Wales,  the 
only  child  of  Henry  VI.  and  Margaret  of  Anjou. 
By  this  expedient,  should  King  Edward,  on  the 
one  hand,  die  without  leaving  a  male  heir,  the 
children  of  Isabel  would  iill  the  throne ;  while,  on 
the  other  hand,  should  the  house  of  Lancaster  suc- 
ceed in  triumphing  over  the  house  of  York,  the 
hopes  of  the  Kingmaker  would  have  every  prospect 
of  being  realized  by  the  Lady  Anne  becoming  the 
mother  of  kings. 

*  According  to  Monstrelet,  it  was  at  Honfleur  and  not  Harfleur  that 
the  fugitives  disembarked.  "  They  found  there  the  lord  high  admiral 
of  France,  who  received  the  Earl  of  Warwick,  the  Duke  of  Clarence, 
and  the  Earl  of  Oxford,  and  their  ladies,  with  every  respect.  Their 
vessels  were  admitted  in  the  harbours;  and  after  a  short  time,  the 
ladies,  with  their  trains,  departed,  and  went  to  Valognes,  where  lodg- 
ings had  been  provided  for  them." — Montstrelefs  Chronicles,  vol.  iv.  p. 
304.  The  Ilearne  Fragment  also  mentions  Honfleur  as  .the  port  at 
which  Warwick  and  his  family  landed  (pp.  302-3). 

f  Hearne  Fragment,  p.  303. 


KING    RICHARD    THE   THIRD.  57 

It  was  apparently  in  pursuance  of  this  ambitious 
project  that  Warwick  sought  the  presence  of  the 
French  king.  Louis  received  him  with  every  mark 
of  respect  and  friendship.  From  the  time  when 
the  earl  had  formerly  been  ambassador  at  his  court, 
the  French  king  had  not  only  retained  an  extra- 
ordinary affection  for  him,  but  they  had  ever  since 
carried  on  a  secret  correspondence.*  Louis,  on  one 
occasion,  told  Queen  Margaret  of  Anjou  that  he 
was  under  greater  obligations  to  the  English  earl 
than  to  any  man  living,  f  Thus,  "no  less  en- 
amoured and  delighted  with  the  presence  of  his 
friend  than  with  his  renowned  fame," \  Louis  re- 
ceived the  great  earl  with  open  arms,  and  bade  him 
heartily  welcome  to  his  court. 

From  Amboise  the  French  court  removed  to 
Angers,  whither  Warwick  and  his  daughters  also 
repaired.  The  dethronement  of  the  English  mon- 
arch, a  reconciliation  between  Margaret  of  Anjou 
and  Warwick,  and  the  re-establishment  of  the 
house  of  Lancaster  on  the  throne  of  England, 
were  the  projects  which  the  French  king  and  the 
English  earl  were  constantly  engaged  in  discussing, 
and  which  each  of  them  had  deeply  at  heart.  The 
principal  difficulty  lay  in  the  implacable  disposition 

*  De  Commines,  tome  i.  p.  433.  Warwick  had  been  ambassador  to 
France  in  1467. 

f  Sharon  Turner's  Hist,  of  the  Middle  Ages,  vol.  iii.  pp.  261-3. 

\  Polydore  Virgil,  lib.  xxiv.  p.  660  (ed.  1651),  and  Camden  Soc. 
Transl.  p.  131. 


58  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

of  Margaret,  and  in  the  great  improbability,  which 
they  foresaw,  of  her  being  induced  to  consent  to  so 
unnatural  a  marriage  as  that  of  the  heir  of  Lancas- 
ter with  the  daughter  of  the  arch-enemy  of  his 
house.  Many  grievances,  moreover,  had  to  be  for- 
gotten on  both  sides,  many  wrongs  forgiven.  War- 
wick had  to  forgive  the  remorseless  woman  who 
had  sent  his  father  Salisbury  to  the  block ;  while 
Margaret  was  called  upon  to  forgive  still  deeper 
wrongs.  Warwick  had  not  only  given  her  the 
deepest  offence  by  aspersing  her  fair  fame  as  a 
woman,  but  he  had  also  disputed  the  legitimacy  of 
her  darling  son.  He  had  caused  to  be  put  to  death, 
either  on  the  field  of  battle  or  on  the  scaffold,  the 
bravest  and  wisest  of  the  partisans  of  the  Red 
Rose.  Twice  he  had  thrown  her  royal  consort  into 
a  dungeon.  More  than  once  she  herself  had  been 
driven  by  him  into  exile ;  more  than  once,  a  fugi- 
tive with  her  beloved  child,  they  had  been  com- 
pelled to  owe  their  daily  bread  to  the  charity  of  the 
stranger.  Warwick,  she  said,  had  inflicted  wounds 
on  her  which  would  remain  unhealed  till  the  day  of 
judgment,  and  in  the  day  of  judgment  she  would 
appeal  to  the  justice  of  Heaven  for  vengeance 
against  her  persecutor.* 

Difficult,  however,  as  was  the  task  of  appeasing 
the   haughty    Margaret,   it  was  cheerfully  under- 

*  Chastellain,  Chroniques  des  Dues  de  Bourgogne,  par  Buchon,  tome 
ii.  p.  242. 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  59 

taken  by  the  French  king.  Without  delay,  he 
invited  to  his  court  the  persons  principally  inter- 
ested in  the  memorable  treaty  which  his  talents  and 
subtlety  subsequently  enabled  him  to  accomplish. 
It  was  indeed  a  remarkable  party  whom  he  assem- 
bled around  him  in  the  old  palatial  fortress  of  Angers. 
At  the  time  when  Margaret  made  her  tardy  appear- 
ance in  its  halls,  there  were  already  met  there  the 
renowned  Warwick,  the  false  and  fickle  Clarence, 
and  his  beautiful  duchess,  Isabel  Neville.  Thither 
subsequently  repaired  two  of  the  bravest  warriors 
of  their  age,  John  de  Vere,  Earl  of  Oxford,  and 
Jasper  Tudor,  Earl  of  Pembroke.  Thither  also 
came  Rene,  King  of  Sicily,  father  of  Queen  Mar- 
garet, the  Countess  of  Warwick  with  her  gentle 
daughter,  the  Lady  Anne,  and  lastly  Margaret  her- 
self, accompanied  by  the  gallant  and  beautiful  boy 
in  whose  welfare  every  wish  of  her  heart  was  cen- 
tred, he  who  from  his  infancy  had  been  the  occasion 
of  her  heroism,  her  self-devotion,  and  her  crimes. 

As  may  be  readily  imagined,  it  was  not  till  after 
urgent  and  repeated  entreaties,  and  after  almost 
fruitless  endeavours  on  the  part  of  King  Louis,  that 
Margaret  was  induced  to  confront  Warwick  face  to 
face,  and  to  confer  with  him  on  the  means  of  re- 
establishing her  husband  on  his  throne.  AVhen  at 
length  the  meeting  took  place,  the  scene  must  have 
been  a  singularly  striking  one.  Warwick,  we  are 
told,  falling  on  his  knees  before  the  queen,  solemnly 


60  KING    RICHARD   THP:   THIRD. 

' '  offered  himself  to  be  bounden  by  all  manner  of 
ways  to  be  a  true  and  faithful  subject  for  the  time 
to  come;"  Margaret,  on  her  part,  compelling  the 
proud  earl  to  remain  in  this  humiliating  posture 
for  a  quarter  of  an  hour,  before  she  could  be  pre- 
vailed upon  to  pronounce  his  pardon.*  At  length 
a  treaty  was  concluded,  which  was  sworn  to  by 
each  of  the  contracting  parties  on  the  true  cross  in 
St.  Mary's  Church  at  Angers.  On  their  part, 
Warwick  and  Clarence  engaged  themselves  on  no 
account  ' '  to  surcease  the  war ' '  till  they  should 
have  restored  the  kingdom  of  England  to  the  house 
of  Lancaster.  On  the  other  hand,  Queen  Margaret 
and  the  Prince  of  Wales  solemnly  swore  to  appoint 
the  great  earl  and  his  son-in-law  protectors  of  the 
realm,  till  such  time  as  the  youthful  prince  should 
be  ' '  meet  and  ht  by  himself  to  undertake  that 
charge."  f  Lastly,  the  French  king  guaranteed  to 
furnish  Warwick  with  a  supply  of  ' '  armour,  men, 
and  navy,"  to  enable  him  to  effect  a  successful 
landing  on  the  shores  of  England.  $ 

*Chastellain,  Chron.  par  Buchon,  tome  ii.  p.  243. 

fPolydore  Virgil,  lib.  xxiv.  p.  680,  and  Camd.  Soc.  Trans,  p.  131. 

|  Louis  kept  his  word.  Monstrelet  tells  us  that  the  manning  and 
victualling  of  Warwick's  fleet  was  extremely  expensive  to  him. 
Chronicles,  vol.  iv.  pp.  306-7.  For  an  account  of  this  remarkable 
conference,  see  a  very  curious  document  entitled  "  The  Manner  and 
Guiding  of  the  Earl  of  Warwick  at  Angers,"  Harl.  MS.  543,  fol.  1696, 
printed  in  Ellis's  Original  Letters,  vol.  i.  p.  132,  &c.,  Second  Series. 
See  also  De  Commines,  tome  i.  p.  238. 


KING   KICHARD   THE   THIRD.  61 

The  article  in  the  treaty  which  Margaret  natu- 
rally regarded  with  the  greatest  dissatisfaction  was 
that  which  gave  the  hand  of  Anne  Neville  to  her 
son.  "What!"  said  the  haughty  queen,  "will 
Warwick  indeed  give  his  daughter  to  my  son, 
whom  he  has  so  often  branded  as  the  offspring  of 
adultery  and  fraud  ?  ' '  When  at  length  she  gave 
her  consent  to  the  unnatural  union,  it  was  accom- 
panied by  a  very  important  article  which  has  been 
overlooked  by  most  of  our  historians.  By  a  clause 
in  the  marriage  treaty  it  was  provided  that  not 
only  should  Anne  Neville  remain  ' '  in  the  hands 
and  keeping  "  of  the  queen,  but  that  the  marriage 
should  not  be  perfected  till  the  earl  had  recovered 
the  kingdom  of  England,  or  the  greater  portion  of 
it,  for  the  house  of  Lancaster.*  Accordingly,  inas- 
much as  the  death  of  Warwick,  which  took  place  a 
few  months  afterwards,  prevented  his  fulfilling  his 
part  of  the  agreement,  the  great  probability  seems 
to  be  that  the  marriage  of  the  Prince  of  Wales  and 
Anne  Neville  was  never  consummated.  The  facts, 
indeed,  are  unquestionable,  that  they  were  not  only 
solemnly  affianced  to  each  other,  but  that,  at  the 
French  court,  Anne  was  called  by  the  title  of,  and 
received  the  homage  due  to,  a  Princess  of  Wales. f 
But,  on  the  other  hand,  when  we  consider  the  re- 

*  •'  Manner  and  Guiding  of  the  Earl  of  Warwick,"  Ellis's  Orig.  Let- 
ters, vol.  i.  pp.  134-5,  Second  Series. 

t  Montstrelet,  vol.  iv.  p.  309. 


62  KING   EICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

pugnance  with  which.  Queen  Margaret  regarded 
their  union,  and  the  singular  proviso  introduced 
into  the  marriage  treaty,  we  may  reasonably  doubt 
whether  they  were  ever  united  to  each  other  by 
any  more  binding  obligation  than  that  of  a  mar- 
riage contract,  the  future  confirmation  of  which  was 
dependent  on  the  fulfilment  of  certain  specified 
conditions.  It  has  even  been  asserted  by  a  modern 
historian  that  no  contemporary  writer  speaks  of  the 
marriage  as  having  been  actually  celebrated.*  But 
whatever  the  nature  of  the  ceremony  may  have 
been,  it  took  place  at  Amboise,  about  the  end  of 
July,  in  the  presence  of  Louis  XI.,  King  Rene, 
Queen  Margaret,  the  Duke  and  Duchess  of  Clar- 
ence, and  the  Earl  of  Warwick.  The  youth  and 
beauty  of  the  contracting  parties  must  have  added 
considerably  to  the  interest  of  the  scene.  Edward 
was  but  seventeen,  Anne  Neville  only  fourteen 
years  of  age.f  Already  they  had  been  introduced 

*  Sharon  Turner's  Hist,  of  the  Middle  Ages,  vol.  iii.  p.  323,  note. 
Ed.  1830.  This  would  seem  to  be  almost  too  sweeping  an  assertion. 
The  continuator  of  the  Croyland  Chronicle  certainly,  in  one  place, 
merely  speaks  of  "espousals"  between  Prince  Edward  and  Anne  as 
having  been  "  contracted "  (p.  462).  Further  on,  however,  we  read : 
"After,  as  already  stated,  the  son  of  King  Henry,  to  whom  the  Lady 
Anne,  the  youngest  daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Warwick,  had  been  married, 
was  slain  at  the  battle  of  Tewkesbury,  Richard  Duke  of  Gloucester 
sought  the  said  Anne  in  marriage,"  &c.  (p.  469). 

t  Edward  Prince  of  Wales  was  born  at  the  palace  of  Westminster  on 
the  13th  of  October  1453;  Anne  Neville  was  born  in  Warwick  Castle 
in  1456.  The  young  prince  is  said  to  have  been  eminently  accom- 
plished and  handsome;  "the  composition  of  his  body,"  according  to 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  63 

to  each  other  at  Paris,  where,  if  any  trust  is  to  be 
placed  in  contemporary  gossip,  her  charms  had 
kindled  a  violent  passion  in  the  heart  of  Edward.* 
A  sad  reverse  awaited  each  of  them.  Before  many 
months  had  elapsed,  Edward  lay  a  mangled  corpse 
in  the  abbey  of  Tewkesbury ;  while  the  beautiful 
girl  to  whom  his  troth  was  pledged  was  compelled 
to  secrete  herself,  in  the  garb  of  a  waiting-maid,  in 
an  obscure  quarter  of  London. 

Faithfully  and  energetically  Warwick  proceeded 
to  carry  into  effect  his  engagements  with  Margaret 
of  Anjou.  The  powerful  fleet  of  the  Duke  of  Bur- 
gundy, superior  at  this  time  to  the  united  navies 
of  England  and  France,  f  happened  to  be  blockading 
the  mouth  of  the  Seine,  and  accordingly  it  was  not 
till  after  a  delay  of  some  weeks  that  Warwick  was 
enabled  to  quit  the  shores  of  France.  At  length,  a 
violent  tempest  compelled  the  blockading  ships  to 
seek  shelter  in  the  ports  of  Scotland  and  Holland, 
and  the  sea  was  once  more  open  to  Warwick.  On 
the  4th  of  August  he  quitted  Angers,  and  on  the 
13th  of  September  disembarked  the  small  force 

Habington,   "  being  guilty  of  no  fault  but  a  too  feminine  beauty."— 
Kennet,  vol.  i.  p.  453.     According  to  Shakspeare's  description  of  him, — 
"  A  sweeter  and  a  lovelier  gentleman, 
Framed  in  the  prodigality  of  nature, 
Young,  valiant,  wise,  and,  no  doubt,  right  royal, 
The  spacious  world  cannot  again  afford." 

King  Richard  III.,  Act  i.  Sc.  2. 

*Hist.  de  Marguerite  d' Anjou,  par  1'Abbe"  PreVost,  p.  344. 
f  De  Commines,  tome  i.  p.  23y. 


64  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

under  his  command  at  Plymouth  and  Dartmouth. 
His  return  to  his  native  country  was  hailed  by  the 
great  mass  of  the  people  with  extraordinary  enthu- 
siasm. In  an  almost  incredibly  short  space  of  time 
he  found  himself  the  leader  of  60,000  men.  The 
sorrows  and  wrongs  of  the  unfortunate  Henry  VI. 
were  descanted  upon  from  the  pulpit ;  the  wander- 
ing minstrel  never  failed  to  delight  his  audiences 
in  town  or  in  village,  so  long  as  the  virtues  and 
valour  of  Warwick  were  his  theme ;  no  ballad  of 
the  day,  we  are  told,  was  popular,  but  such  as  re- 
dounded to  the  glory  of  the  "  Kingmaker."* 

In  the  mean  time,  sunning  himself  in  the  smiles 
of  beauty,  and  sauntering  in  an  atmosphere  of 
voluptuous  sensuality,  King  Edward  persisted  in 
underrating  his  enemy,  even  though  that  enemy 
was  Warwick.  In  vain  his  brother-in-law,  the 
Duke  of  Burgundy,  urged  him  to  make  prepara- 
tions for  repelling  the  invader,  f  Trusting  to  his 
own  superior  military  genius  and  dauntless  per- 
sonal valour,  and,  as  De  Commines  tells  us,  affect- 
ing to  despise  and  laugh  at  danger  as  affording 
evidence  of  his  resolution  and  courage,  Edward 
pertinaciously  persisted  in  pursuing  his  course  of 
sensual  inactivity.  Let  Warwick,  he  said,  land  on 
English  soil ;  there  was  nothing  he  wished  better. 

Dearly  as  Edward   prized  the  smiles  of  woman 

*  Lingard's  Hist,  of  Engl.  vol.  iv.  p.  178.     Ed.  1849. 
t  De  Commines,  tome  i.  pp.  239,  242. 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  65 

and  the  pleasures  of  the  banquet,  no  less  grateful 
to  him  was  the  bray  of  the  clarion  when  it  pro- 
claimed the  approach  of  danger.  No  sooner,  then, 
did  his  subjects  break  out  into  armed  revolt,  than, 
with  his  usual  promptitude  and  vigour,  he  sallied 
forth  to  grapple  with  the  enemy.  But  the  time  for 
action  had  been  allowed  to  glide  unprofitably  away. 
The  wrongs  and  exile  of  Warwick  had  excited  an 
enthusiasm  in  his  favour  which,  for  a  season, 
proved  irresistible.  Treason  was  rife,  moreover, 
among  those  whom  Edward  had  most  trusted  and 
loved.  When,  in  the  gloomy  apartments  of  the 
Tower,  the  sanguine  and  chivalrous  king  took  leave 
of  his  lovely  queen,  then  on  the  eve  of  becoming  a 
mother,  little  could  he  have  imagined  that,  within 
a  few  short  weeks,  he  himself  would  become  a 
miserable  exile.  Little  could  he  have  believed  that, 
during  his  eventful  absence,  his  hunted  queen 
would  give  birth  to  a  male  heir  to  the  throne  in 
the  prison  sanctuary  at  Westminster ;  indebted  to 
the  monks  for  procuring  her  an  ordinary  nurse  in 
her  travail,  and  to  a  butcher,  more  tender-hearted 
or  more  loyal  than  his  fellows,  for  the  common 
food  by  which  she  and  her  female  attendants  sup- 
ported existence. 

Edward,  as  he  himself  afterwards  related  to  De 
Commines,  was  at  dinner  in  a  fortress  near  Lynn, 
when  suddenly  the  astounding  tidings  were  brought 
to  him  that  the  Marquis  of  Montagu,  his  personal 


66  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

friend  and  favourite,  with  other  influential  barons 
in  whom  he  had  blindly  confided,  were  tampering 
with  his  forces.  Notwithstanding  he  had  long 
been  accustomed  to  encounter  treachery  and  in- 
gratitude, he  at  first  refused  to  credit  such  shame- 
less apostasy.  Nevertheless  he  sent  forth  messen- 
gers to  investigate  the  truth  of  the  rumours,  and  in 
the  mean  time  rapidly  arrayed  himself  in  his  ar- 
mour. The  intelligence  which  the  messengers 
brought  back  was  sufficiently  disheartening.  Not 
only  had  the  soldiers  been  induced  to  shout  ' '  God 
bless  King  Henry, ' '  but  the  rebels  were  advancing 
in  overwhelming  numbers.  Fortunately  the  only 
access  to  the  fortress  was  by  a  bridge  which  Edward 
had  taken  the  precaution  to  guard  with  a  few  of 
his  most  devoted  followers.  Accordingly,  without 
a  moment's  delay,  he  leaped  into  the  saddle,  and, 
dashing  along  the  bridge  with  a  few  followers, 
made  the  best  of  his  way  to  the  neighbouring  sea- 
port of  Lynn.  Hastings,  alone,  remained  behind 
for  a  few  minutes,  in  order  to  urge  his  friends  to 
consult  their  safety  by  pretending  submission  to 
Warwick,  and  then,  putting  spurs  to  his  horse, 
galloped  off  in  the  direction  of  Lynn,  where  he  had 
the  satisfaction  of  rejoining  his  royal  master.* 

At  Lynn,  Edward  had  the  good  fortune  to  find 
shipping  for  himself  and  his  followers  in  an  Eng- 

*  De  Commines,  tome  i.  pp.  244,  &c. ;  Croyland  Chronicle  Continu- 
ation, p.  462,  ed.  1854. 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  67 

lisli  brig  of  war  and  two  Dutch  merchant  vessels, 
which  were  on  the  point  of  putting  to  sea.  On  the 
waters,  however,  perils  awaited  the  fugitives,  al- 
most as  imminent  as  those  from  which  they  had  had 
the  good  fortune  to  escape  on  land.  Chase  was 
given  them  by  a  formidable  fleet  of  the  Easterlings, 
or  Hanse  Towns,  then  at  war  with  England ;  and 
only  by  running  his  ship  on  shore  near  Alkmaar, 
on  the  coast  of  Holland,  with  the  risk  of  being 
drowned,  was  Edward  enabled  to  evade  his  pur- 
suers. So  rapid  had  been  his  flight,  so  destitute 
was  the  victor  of  Towton  of  the  common  appurte- 
nances of  royalty,  that  his  ordinary  robe,  lined  with 
rich  sables,  was  the  only  guerdon  with  which  it 
was  in  his  power  to  remunerate  the  captain  of  the 
vessel  who  had  delivered  him  from  a  dungeon,  and 
not  impossibly  from  death.* 

Richard  of  Gloucester  was  the  companion  of  his 
brother  in  his  flight,  and  landed  with  him  at  Alk- 
maar. f  For  some  months,  utter  ruin  seemed  to 
stare  them  in  the  face.  A  great  revolution  had 
taken  place  in  England.  King  Henry — "  who  was 
not  so  worshipfully  arrayed  and  not  so  cleanly  kept 
as  should  seem  such  a  prince":}: — was  taken  from 
his  "keepers"  by  Warwick,  and  once  more  sat, 
with  the  crown  on  his  head,  on  the  marble  seat  of 
the  Confessor  at  Westminster.  Warwick  and 

*  De  Commines,  tome  i.  p.  248. 

f  Ibid.  p.  248.  J  Warkworth  Chronicle,  p.  11. 


68  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

Clarence  were  declared  to  be  the  protectors  of  the 
realm  during  the  minority  of  Edward  Prince  of 
Wales.  In  the  event  of  his  dying  without  issue, 
the  crown  was  entailed  upon  Clarence.  The  exiled 
Edward,  lately  so  envied  and  so  feared,  was  de- 
nounced by  parliament  as  an  usurper ;  Richard  of 
Gloucester  was  attainted  arid  outlawed.  But  the 
daring  and  indomitable  spirit  of  King  Edward  and 
his  brother,  Gloucester,  was  destined  to  triumph 
over  every  difficulty.  Having  obtained  from  his 
brother-in-law,  the  Duke  of  Burgundy,  a  loan  of 
fifty  thousand  florins,'*  Edward,  early  in  the  month 
of  March  1471,  set  sail  from  the  port  of  Yere,  in 
the  island  of  Walcheren,  with  about  two  thousand 
men,  and,  on  the  14th  of  that  month,  disembarked 
at  Ravenspur,  in  Yorkshire,  the  same  place  at 
which,  seventy-two  years  previously,  Henry  of 
Lancaster  had  landed  to  depose  Richard  II.  Like 
Henry,  he  disclaimed  having  any  design  upon  the 
crown.  His  object  in  returning  to  England,  he 
said,  was  merely  to  recover  the  inheritance  to  which 
he  was  entitled  as  Duke  of  York.f  He  even  carried 
this  dissimulation  so  far,  as  to  cause  his  followers 
to  shout  "  Long  live  King  Henry,"  in  the  different 
towns  and  villages  through  which  they  passed. 
He  himself  wore  in  his  helmet  an  ostrich-plume, 
the  device  of  his  rival,  Edward  Prince  of  \Yales4 

*  De  Conimines,  tome  i.  p.  257. 

f  Fleetwood  Chron.  p.  4.       J  Leland's  Collect,  vol.  ii.  pp.  503-4. 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  69 

The  Duke  of  Gloucester  accompanied  his  brother 
to  England ;  the  young  prince  landing  about  four 
miles  from  Ravenspur,  at  the  head  of  three  hun- 
dred men.*  Together,  the  brothers  commenced 
their  desperate  march  towards  the  south, — for  al- 
most desperate  it  must  have  seemed  even  to  them- 
selves. For  the  first  few  days  Edward's  progress 
was  discouraging  in  the  extreme.  Scarcely  a  single 
individual  joined  his  standard.  But  though  the 
men  of  the  north  kept  aloof  from  him,  he  was 
everywhere  allowed  to  pass  without  molestation. 
Within  four  miles  of  his  line  of  march  stood  Pom- 
fret  Castle :  but  though  Warwick's  brother,  the 
Marquis  of  Montagu,  occupied  it  with  a  superior 
force,  he  made  no  effort  to  check  the  invader. 
Fortunately  for  Edward,  the  city  of  York  had  been 
induced  to  open  its  gates  to  him,  and  from  that 
time  his  circumstances  began  to  improve.  At  Not- 
tingham he  was  joined  by  Sir  William  Stanley  and 
Sir  William  Norres,  the  former  bringing  with  him 
four  hundred  men.f  Three  thousand  more  flocked 
to  him  at  Leicester,  and  at  Warwick  he  had  the 
satisfaction  of  being  joined  by  his  brother,  the 
Duke  of  Clarence,  who  deserted  to  him  with  four 
thousand  men. 

Confiding  in  his  own  military  genius  and  desperate 
valour,  Edward  appears  to  have  ardently  desired  to 

*  Fleetwood  Chron.  p.  3. 

t  Leland's  Collect,  vol.  ii.  p.  504 


70  KING   RICHARD    THE   THIRD. 

bring  his  enemies  to  battle  on  the  first  possible  oc- 
casion. Success,  he  felt,  could  be  obtained  only 
by  intrepidity  and  vigour.  To  obtain  a  victory 
early  in  the  day  he  knew  to  be  of  the  most  vital 
importance.  He  was  aware  that  sooner  or  later  his 
enemies  would  be  enabled  to  concentrate  their 
forces,  and  accordingly,  though  Warwick  lay  at 
Coventry  with  an  army  much  superior  to  his  own, 
he  determined  not  only  to  risk  an  engagement,  but, 
if  possible,  to  force  it  upon  the  Kingmaker.  War- 
wick, however,  whatever  may  have  been  his  reasons, 
declined  the  combat.  The  young  king  therefore 
resumed  his  march  towards  London,  of  which  city 
he  confidently  hoped  to  obtain  possession.  So 
rapid  had  been  his  march,  and  so  skilfully  had  it 
been  conducted,  that  he  seems  to  have  made  his 
way  far  into  the  midland  counties  before  the  intel- 
ligence of  his  landing  had  reached  the  metropolis. 
Had  London  refused  to  receive  Edward  within  its 
walls,  there  can  be  little  doubt  that  his  discomfit- 
ure would  have  been  complete.  But  with  the  citi- 
zens he  had  ever  been  an  especial  favourite.  The 
city  dames  were  enthusiastic  in  their  admiration  of 
a  prince  at  once  so  beautiful  and  so  affable.  Many 
of  them  are  said  to  have  been  liberal  in  their 
favours  to  him  ;  many  others  were  probably  ready 
to  follow  their  example.  Their  wealthy  husbands, 
moreover,  had  their  reasons  for  wishing  well  to  the 
invader.  They  were  grateful  to  him  for  the  en- 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  71 

couragement  he  had  extended  to  commerce;  nor 
was  it  a  trifling  circumstance  in  his  favour  that  he 
was  indebted  to  many  of  them  for  large  sums  of 
money,  which  his  restoration  only  would  enable 
him  to  repay.*  Lastly,  former  gracious  presents 
of  royal  venison  were  perhaps  not  altogether  for- 
gotten, nor  the  peaceful  days  when,  in  the  green 
glades  of  Hainault  and  Windsor  forests,  they  had 
been  regaled  and  flattered  by  the  most  gallant  and 
most  fascinating  monarch  of  his  age.f 

In  the  mean  time,   Warwick  had  intrusted  the 
safe-keeping  of  the  city  of  London  to  his  brother, 

*  De  Commines,  tome  i.  p.  259. 

f  A  contemporary,  Fabyan,  thus  describes  a  banquet  given  by  Edward 
to  the  lord-mayor  and  aldermen  of  London,  after  a  day's  hunting  in 
Waltham  Forest : — "  And  after  that  goodly  disport  was  passed,  the 
king  commanded  his  officers  to  bring  the  mayor  and  his  company  into 
a  pleasant  lodge  made  all  of  green  boughs,  and  garnished  with  tables 
and  other  things  necessary,  where  they  were  set  at  dinner,  and  served 
with  many  dainty  dishes,  and  of  diverse  wines  good  plenty  ;  as  white, 
red,  and  claret ;  and  caused  them  to  be  set  to  dinner  before  he  was 
served  of  his  own ;  and,  over  that,  caused  the  lord  chamberlain,  and 
other  lords  to  him  assigned,  to  cheer  the  said  mayor  and  his  company 
sundry  times  while  they  were  at  dinner,  and  at  their  departing  gave 
unto  them  of  venison  great  plenty." — Chron.  p.  667. 

From  the  pen  of  Sir  Thomas  More  we  have  an  account  of  a  similar 
scene  at  Windsor: — "In  the  summer,  the  last  that  ever  he  saw,  hia 
highness  being  at  Windsor  hunting,  sent  for  the  mayor  and  aldermen 
of  London  to  him,  for  none  other  errand  but  to  have  them  hunt  and  be 
merry  with  him.  He  made  them  not  so  stately  as  friendly  and  familiar 
cheer ;  and  sent  them  venison  from  thence  so  freely  into  the  city,  that 
no  one  thing,  in  many  days  before,  gave  him  either  more  hearts,  or 
more  hearty  favour  among  the  common  people,  which  oftentimes  more 
esteem,  and  take  for  greater  kindness,  a  little  courtesy  than  a  great 
benefit."— &Y  T.  More,  Hist,  of  Richard  III.  p.  5.  Ed.  1821. 


72  KING   RICHARD    THE   THIRD. 

George  Neville,  Archbishop  of  York,  who  was  se- 
cretly Edward's  friend.*  Under  these  circum- 
stances the  young  king  had  only  to  present  himself 
before  the  gates  of  London  to  find  himself  invited 
to  come  within  the  walls.  On  the  10th  of  April 
the  Tower  was  taken  possession  of  in  his  name,  and 
on  the  following  day  he  rode  through  the  city 
amidst  the  enthusiastic  acclamations  of  the  people, 
and  took  up  his  abode  in  the  bishop's  palace. 
Never,  perhaps,  had  so  hazardous,  and  apparently 
desperate,  an  enterprise  been  crowned  with  more 
signal  success.  Six  months  only  had  elapsed  since 
he  had  escaped  a  fugitive  to  Holland ;  twenty-eight 
days  only  since  he  had  landed  at  Ravenspur.  Yet 
Edward  was  again  in  possession  of  the  capital  of 
his  kingdom ;  his  rival,  King  Henry,  was  again  a 
prisoner  in  his  hands. 

In  the  mean  time,  if,  as  there  is  reason  to  believe, 
Richard  of  Gloucester  was  really  enamoured  of 
Anne  Neville,  greatly  must  his  exile  have  been  em- 
bittered by  the  reflection  that  she  was  not  only 
united  to  another,  but  that  his  fortunate  rival  was 
the  heir  of  the  detested  house  of  Lancaster.  Not 
impossibly,  indeed,  he  may  have  been  aware  of  the 
existence  of  that  special  article  in  the  marriage- 
treaty,  which  delayed  its  perfecting  till  such  time 
as  Warwick  should  have  completed  the  recovery  of 
the  sovereignty  of  England  for  the  Red  Rose.  If 

*  Fleetwood  Chron.  p.  16 ;  Paston  Letters,  by  Fenn,  vol.  ii.  p.  65. 


KI1STG   EICHAKD   THE  THIRD.  73 

such  was  the  case,  Richard  doubtless  resolved  that, 
as  far  as  depended  upon  his  own  indomitable  energy 
and  valour,  the  marriage  of  Anne  Neville  should 
remain  unconsummated.  Looking  forward  to  the 
inevitable  time  when  the  banner  of  York  must  be 
again  confronted  with  that  of  Lancaster,  he  prob- 
ably panted  for  the  occasion  wrhen  haply  his  sword 
or  his  lance  might  leave  Anne  Neville  a  widow,  yet 
still  a  maid.  When  a  few  months  afterwards,  he 
made  his  famous  onslaught  into  the  ranks  of  the 
Duke  of  Somerset  at  Tewkesbury,  it  may  have  been 
this  passionate  feeling,  added  to  his  knowledge 
that  Anne  Neville  was  an  actual  spectator  of  the 
scene,  which,  on  that  memorable  day,  lent  such 
resolution  to  his  soul  and  vigour  to  his  arm. 

The  deference  which  Edward  ever  paid  to  the 
advice  of  his  younger  brother,  the  Duke  of  Glou- 
cester, affords  further  evidence  how  high  was 
the  opinion  he  had  formed  of  his  judgment 
and  abilities.  But  the  day  was  fast  approaching 
when  Richard's  reputation  for  sagacity  in  the  cab- 
inet was  destined  to  be  eclipsed  by  his  valour  on  the 
field  of  battle.  Edward  had  scarcely  time  to  re- 
ceive the  congratulations  of  the  citizens  of  London, 
when  intelligence  reached  him  that  not  only  was 
Warwick  approaching  with  a  powerful  army,  but 
that  Queen  Margaret  and  her  son,  Prince  Edward, 
were  daily  expected  to  land  in  the  south.  It  was 
clearly  the  policy  of  the  king  to  encounter  Warwick 


74  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

before  Margaret  could  come  to  his  assistance.  War- 
wick had  also  his  reasons  for  hazarding  a  battle, 
and  accordingly,  on  the  14th  of  April,  Easter  Sun- 
day, the  two  armies  confronted  each  other  on  the 
field  of  Barnet,  about  ten  miles  from  London. 
Though  Gloucester  at  this  time  was  only  in  his 
nineteenth  year,  the  confidence  Edward  placed  in 
his  brother's  discretion  and  courage  was  so  great, 
that  he  intrusted  him  with  the  command  of  the 
right  wing  of  his  army.*  The  post  was  rendered 
the  more  important  in  consequence  of  Gloucester's 
forces  being  immediately  opposed  to  the  veteran 
forces  of  Warwick,  headed  by  the  mighty  baron  in 
person.  And  valiantly,  on  that  memorable  day, 
did  the  young  prince  fulfil  his  brother's  expecta- 
tions. Bearing  down  all  before  him,  he  fought  his 
way,  we  are  told,  ' '  so  far  and  boldly  into  the 
enemies'  army,"  that  two  of  his  esquires,  Thomas 
Parr  and  John  Mil  water,  were  slain  by  his  side.f 
For  six  hours  the  battle  was  furiously  and  obsti- 
nately contested.  In  order  to  inspire  confidence 
in  his  men,  Warwick  dismounted  from  his  charger 
and  fought  on  foot.:}:  Observing  that  his  followers 
faltered,  he  flung  himself  into  the  thickest  of  the 
fight,  and,  by  his  exhortations,  and  the  example 

*  Harl.  MSS.  No.  543,  quoted  in  S.  Turner's  Middle  Ages,  vol.  iii. 
p.  296. 

f  Buck's  Life  and  Reign  of  Richard  III.  in  Kennet,  vol.  i.  p.  517. 

J  King  Edward  IV.,  the  victor  of  so  many  battles,  always  fought  on 
foot.  De  Commines,  tome  i.  p.  234. 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  75 

of  desperate  valour  which  he  set  them,  restored 
confidence  in  his  ranks.  According  to  tradition, 
Gloucester  and  Warwick  encountered  each  other 
in  the  last  charge,  when  the  great  earl,  remember- 
ing an  affecting  promise  which  he  had  made  to  his 
friend  the  late  Duke  of  York,  spared  the  life  of 
his  son.  The  field  of  Barnet  was  the  death-scene 
of  Warwick.  A  thick  fog  obscured  the  part  of  the 
field  in  which  he  fought;  his  followers  mistook 
friends  for  foes ;  and  in  the  midst  of  the  terrible 
confusion,  attacked  by  overpowering  numbers,  the 
' '  Kingmaker ' '  met  his  death.*  His  fall  decided  the 
fate  of  the  day.  His  fate  was  shared  by  his 
brother,  the  Marquis  of  Montagu.  The  same  even- 
ing Edward  and  Gloucester  returned  to  London  in 
triumph.  In  their  train  was  the  ill-fated  Henry 
VI.,  whom,  at  the  commencement  of  the  battle, 
Edward  had  placed  in  front  of  the  Yorkist  ranks, 
exposed  to  imminent  peril  from  the  arrows  of  his 
own  friends.  When  the  victors  and  the  van- 
quished parted  company  on  reaching  London,  the 
captive  monarch  was  conducted  back  through  silent 
streets  to  his  miserable  apartment  in  the  Tower, 
from  whence,  five  weeks  afterwards,  he  was  carried 
to  his  grave.  Edward  and  Gloucester,  in  the  mean 

*  The  old  chroniclers  differ  in  their  accounts  of  Warwick's  death. 
According  to  the  Fleetwood  Chronicle  (p.  20),  "  In  this  battle  was  slain 
the  Earl  of  Warwick,  somewhat  fleeing."  The  chronicle,  printed  in 
Leland's  Collectanea  (vol.  ii.  p.  505),  also  implies  that  he  was  slain  in 
flight. 


76  KING   EICHAED   THE  THIRD. 

time,  passed  through  admiring  masses  of  people  to 
the  great  cathedral  of  St.  Paul's,  where,  in  grati- 
tude for  the  victory  which  had  been  vouchsafed  to 
him,  Edward  offered  up,  "  at  even-song, "  his  own 
standard  and  that  of  the  great  baron  WT!IO  had 
formerly  raised  him  to  a  throne.  Thither  also  were 
brought  the  bodies  of  Warwick  and  Montagu, 
which  for  three  days  ' '  layid  nakid  in  St  Paul  is 
Chirch  to  be  seene."  * 

In  the  mean  time,  Queen  Margaret  had  for  weeks 
been  prevented  by  contrary  winds  and  tempestuous 
weather  from  quitting  the  shores  of  France.  At 
length,  on  the  13th  of  April,  she  wras  enabled  to  set 
sail  from  Harfleur,  and,  on  the  following  day, — the 
very  day  on  which  the  great  battle  was  raging  at 
Barnet, — she  landed  with  a  few  but  intrepid  fol- 
lowers at  Weymouth.  Relying  on  the  resources 
and  the  military  genius  of  Warwick,  as  well  as  on 
the  enthusiasm  which  her  presence  in  England  had 
hitherto  never  failed  to  excite  among  her  partisans, 
the  high-spirited  queen  appears  to  have  entertained 
a  confident  hope  that  at  length  the  cause,  for  which 
she  had  so  long  and  so  heroically  struggled,  was 
about  to  be  triumphant.  When,  therefore,  a  few 
hours  after  her  landing,  she  was  informed  of  the 
defeat  and  death  of  the  mightiest  of  her  champions, 
and  of  the  re -committal  of  King  Henry  to  the 
Tower,  her  grief  and  disappointment  were  over- 

*  Leland's  Collect,  vol.  ii.  p.  505  ;  Fleetvvood  Chron.  p.  21. 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  77 

whelming.  For  the  first  time,  in  the  course  of 
her  many  misfortunes  and  reverses,  she  appears  to 
have  been  overwhelmed  by  despondency,  and  to 
have  almost  yielded  herself  up  to  despair.  The 
time  had  arrived  when  King  Edward  might  have 
said  of  the  royal  heroine,  as  John  Knox  afterwards 
said  of  Mary  Queen  of  Scots, — "  I  made  the  hyaena 
weep."  While  in  this  distracted  state,  she  was 
discovered  by  the  Earls  of  Pembroke  and  Devon- 
shire, in  the  sanctuary  of  the  abbey  of  Beaulieu  in 
Hampshire,  where  the  widow  of  Warwick  had  also 
found  shelter.*  Tradition  still  points  out  an  apart- 
ment in  that  interesting  ruin,  in  which  the  descend- 
ant of  Charlemagne  anathematized  the  enemies  of 
her  husband's  house,  and  in  which,  in  her  softer 
moments,  she  wept  over  the  ruined  fortunes  of  her 
accomplished  and  idolized  son.  It  was  not  without 
much  difficulty  that  the  devoted  barons,  who  waited 
on  her  at  Beaulieu,  succeeded  in  inducing  her  to 
shake  off  her  dejection.  But  when,  at  length,  she 
was  induced  to  take  the  field,  her  former  heroism 
returned.  By  her  exertions  and  those  of  her 
friends,  a  large  army,  consisting  principally  of  her 
adherents  in  the  west  of  England,  and  the  survivors 
of  the  battle  of  Barnet,  wTas  assembled  at  Tewkes- 
bury  on  the  banks  of  the  Severn.  Thither  King 
Edward  advanced  to  meet  her,  and  there,  on  the 
4th  of  May  1471,  was  fought  that  memorable  battle 

*  Fleetwood  Chron.  p.  22. 


78  KING    RICHAKD   THE   THIRD. 

which  was  destined,  for  years  to  come,  to  crush  the 
hopes  of  the  house  of  Lancaster. 

At  the  battle  of  Tewkesbury,  Richard  of  Glouces- 
ter not  only  increased  the  reputation  for  valour 
which  he  had  won  at  Barnet,  but,  by  an  able  strat- 
egical movement,  he  was  mainly  instrumental  in 
winning  the  day  for  the  White  Rose.  Placed  by 
his  brother  Edward  in  command  of  the  van,  he 
found  himself  confronted  by  the  Duke  of  Somerset, 
who  commanded  the  advanced  division  of  the  Lan- 
castrian forces.  So  advantageously  had  the  latter 
taken  up  a  position,  surrounded  by  dykes  and 
hedges,  that,  had  it  not  been  for  his  own  rash  and 
impetuous  nature,  he  might  have  set  at  defiance  a 
much  more  formidable  force  than  that  which 
Gloucester  was  able  to  oppose  to  him.  "  It  was," 
we  are  told,  ' '  a  right  evil  place  to  approach  as 
could  well  have  been  devised."  To  entice  Somer- 
set from  his  vantage-ground  was  therefore  clearly 
the  policy  of  his  antagonist.  Accordingly,  after 
maintaining  a  conflict  for  a  short  time  with  brisk 
discharges  of  arrows,  Gloucester  made  a  movement 
as  if  he  had  been  worsted,  and  commenced  a  feigned 
retreat.*  The  manoeuvre  was  completely  success- 
ful. Somerset  eagerly  led  his  men  from  their  in- 
trenchments,  for  the  purpose,  as  he  thought,  of 
pursuing  the  Yorkists,  when  Gloucester  suddenly 
faced  about  and  attacked  the  Lancastrians  in  his 

*  Habington  in  Kennet,  vol.  i.  p.  452. 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  79 

turn  with  impetuous  fury.  In  vain  Somerset  en- 
deavoured to  regain  his  vantage-ground.  Together 
Gloucester  and  Somerset  entered  the  encampment ; 
the  forces  of  the  latter  in  full  flight,  those  of 
Gloucester  in  eager  pursuit.  At  this  moment  an 
incident  occurred  which  was  singularly  character- 
istic of  the  fierce  vindictiveness  of  the  age.  Had 
Lord  Wenlock,  it  seems,  hastened  to  Somerset's 
assistance,  the  fortunes  of  the  day  might  have  been 
reversed.  Enraged  by  Wenlock' s  delay,  and  at  his 
own  discomfiture,  the  duke  no  sooner  regained  his 
intrenchments,  than,  riding  furiously  up  to  his 
noble  comrade  in  arms,  he  denounced  him  in  the 
most  opprobrious  terms  as  a  traitor  and  a  coward. 
The  probability  is  that  Wenlock  recriminated.  It 
is  only  certain,  however,  that  Somerset's  battle-axe 
descended  on  the  head  of  Wenlock,  and  dashed  out 
his  brains.*  This  remorseless  act  was  followed  by 
the  promiscuous  slaughter  of  the  flying  Lancas- 
trians by  their  victorious  foes.  The  carnage,  more 
especially  on  a  narrow  bridge  which  spanned  a  mill- 
stream,  is  described  as  terrific.  The  Earl  of  Devon- 
shire and  Sir  John  Beaufort,  brother  of  the  Duke 
of  Somerset,  were  slain  in  the  battle.  The  duke 
himself,  the  Grand  Prior  of  the  order  of  St.  John, 
and  several  other  persons  of  distinction,  were  taken 
prisoners  and  beheaded ;  the  Duke  of  Gloucester, 
as  High  Constable,  and  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  as 
Marshal  of  England,  sitting  as  their  judges,  f 

*  Habington  in  Kennet,  vol.  i.  p.  452.     f  Fleetwood  Chron.  p.  31. 


80  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

Thus,  by  his  valour  and  generalship,  was  the 
young  Duke  of  Gloucester  mainly  instrumental  in 
winning  for  his  brother  Edward  the  great  victory 
which  secured  him  on  his  throne.  Thus,  "wrought 
high  in  the  opinion  of  the  king  by  his  wisdom  and 
valour,"*  we  find  him,  at  the  early  age  of  eighteen, 
filling  with  credit  the  most  important  and  responsi- 
ble offices ;  respected  at  the  council-table  for  his  wis- 
dom, and  admired  for  his  chivalry  on  the  field  of 
battle.  We  might  search  in  vain,  perhaps,  in  the  an- 
nals even  of  the  wisest  and  the  best,  for  a  more  illus- 
trious boyhood  !  And  yet,  even  at  this  early  period 
of  his  life, — a  period  when  youth  is  usually  actuated 
by  the  purest  and  most  generous  motives, — we  find 
him  charged  by  the  prejudiced  chroniclers,  who 
wrote  under  the  dynasty  of  the  Tudors,  with  the 
commission  of  the  most  atrocious  crimes.  True  it 
is,  that  the  time  was  destined  to  arrive  when  ambi- 
tion, and  events  almost  beyond  human  control, 
tempted  him  to  become  an  usurper  and  a  murderer. 
As  yet,  however,  not  only,  we  think,  can  no  offence 
be  with  justice  laid  to  his  charge,  but  on  the  other 
hand,  his  conduct  appears  to  have  been  eminently 
distinguished  by  integrity,  loyalty,  and  honour. 
Less  resemblance,  indeed,  is  to  be  traced  between 
Richard  in  youth,  and  Richard  in  manhood,  than 
between  the  Richard  of  Shakspeare  and  the  Richard 
of  true  history. 

*  Habington  in  Kennet,  vol.  i.  p.  456. 


KING   EICHAED   THE   THIRD.  81 

The  earliest  crime,  in  point  of  date,  which  the 
old  chroniclers  have  attributed  to  Richard  of 
Gloucester,  is  his  presumed  share  in  the  murder  of 
Edward  Prince  of  Wales  after  the  battle  of  Tewkes- 
bury.  According  to  the  common  version  of  this 
pitiable  tragedy,  Edward  IV.,  on  the  young  prince 
being  brought  into  his  presence,  haughtily  asked 
him  how  he  dared  to  take  up  arms  against  his  law- 
ful sovereign.  If  Edward,  as  is  probable,  antici- 
pated a  submissive  answer,  he  must  have  been  dis- 
appointed as  well  as  astonished.  With  a  boldness 
and  a  dignity,  such  as  became  the  grandson  of 
Henry  V.,  the  royal  youth  replied  that  he  was  in 
arms  to  rescue  a  father  from  miserable  oppression, 
and  to  recover  a  crown  that  had  been  violently 
usurped.*  Incensed  at  his  hardihood,  the  king  is 
said  to  have  struck  him  with  his  gauntlet;  on 
which  the  Dukes  of  Clarence  and  Gloucester,  the 
Marquis  of  Dorset  and  Lord  Hastings,  are  affirmed 
to  have  hurried  him  from  Edward's  presence,  and 
to  have  despatched  him  in  an  adjoining  apartment 
with  their  poniards. f 

*  "  K.  Edw.     Peace,  wilful  boy,  or  I  will  charm  your  tongue. 
Clar.     Untutored  lad,  thou  art  too  malapert. 
Prince.    I  know  my  duty,  you  are  all  undutiful. 
Lascivious  Edward,  and  thou  perjured  George, 
And  thou  misshapen  Dick,  I  tell  ye  all, 
I  am  your  better,  traitors  as  ye  are, 
And  thou  usurp'st  my  father's  right  and  mine." 

King  Henry  VI.  Part  III.  Act  v.  Sc.  5. 

t  Habington  inKennet,  vol.  i.  p.  453  ;  Polydore  Virgil,  lib.  xxiv.  p.  672. 
"Tradition  still  points  out  a  house  in  Church  Street,  nearly  opposite 


82  KIXG   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

The  earliest  writer,  we  believe,  who  has  chroni- 
cled this  affecting  story  is  Polydore  Virgil,  whose 
authority,  inasmuch  as  he  had  conversed  with,  and 
drew  many  of  the  materials  of  his  history  from,  the 
actors  in  the  scenes  which  he  described,  must  cer- 
tainly be  received  with  some  deference.  But,  on  the 
other  hand,  Polydore  Virgil  was  not  only  notori- 
ously infected  with  Lancastrian  prejudices,  but  it 
must  be  borne  in  mind  that  he  wrote  his  history 
expressly  at  the  desire  of  Henry  VII.,  and  conse- 
quently with  every  inducement  to  malign  the  char- 
acter and  actions  of  Richard  III.  Moreover,  we 
have  the  accounts  of  still  older  writers  than  Poly- 
dore Virgil,  not  one  of  whom  charges  Richard  of 
Gloucester  with  being  an  actor  in  this  detestable 
crime.  Buck,  on  the  authority  of  a  faithful  con- 
temporary MS.,  asserts  that  when  the  bloody  attack 
was  made  on  the  young  prince,  "the  Duke  of 
Gloucester  only,  of  all  the  great  persons,  stood 
still,  and  drew  not  his  sword.''*  Fabyan,  an  alder- 

to  the  market-place,  in  Tewkesbury,  as  that  in  which  the  young  prince 
was  stabbed  in  the  presence  of  King  Edward.  In  the  abbey  church  of 
that  ancient  town,  nearly  in  the  centre  of  the  choir,  may  be  seen  a  brass 
plate,  beneatli  which  lie  the  remains  of  the  fair  boy  for  whom  such 
torrents  of  blood  were  shed, — the  last  earthly  hope  of  the  pious  King 
Henry  and  of  his  heroic  consort." — Bennett's  Hist,  of  Tewkesbury,  p.  176. 
In  the  same  venerable  ediBce  lie  buried  the  false  and  perjured  Clarence, 
as  also  those  two  devoted  adherents  of  the  Red  Rose,  Edmund  Duke  of 
Somerset,  who  was  beheaded  after  the  battle  of  Tewkesbury,  and  John 
Earl  of  Devon,  who  was  slain  while  gallantly  fighting  at  the  head  of 
the  rear-guard. 

*  Buck's  Life  and  Reign  of  Richard  III.  in  Kennet,  vol.  i.  p.  549. 


KIXG   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  83 

man  of  London  and  a  contemporary,  though  he 
describes  the  murder  as  having  taken  place  in  the 
presence  of  the  king,  in  no  way  inculpates  Richard 
of  Gloucester.  The  king,  he  says,  "strake  him 
(the  prince)  with  his  gauntlet  upon  the  face,  after 
which  stroke,  so  by  him  received,  he  was  by  the 
Te ing's  servants  incontinently  slain."*  Great 
doubt,  indeed,  seems  to  exist,  whether  the  story  of 
the  young  prince  having  been  assassinated  in  the 
presence  of  King  Edward  is  not  altogether  a  fiction. 
Certainly  there  appears  to  be  quite  as  much  reason 
for  presuming  that  he  was  slain  either  in  the  bat- 
tle or  in  flight.  Of  three  contemporary  writers,  De 
Commines  clearly  implies  that  he  fell  on  the  field 
of  battle  ;f  another  observes, — "and  there  was  slain 
in  the  field  Prince  Edward,  which  cried  for  succour 
to  his  brother-in-law,  the  Duke  of  Clarence  ;"J 
wThile  the  third  positively  states  that  the  prince 
"was  taken  fleeing  to  the  townwards,  and  slain  in 
the  field.  "§  Lastly,  Bernard  Andreas,  who  wrote 
in  1501,  and  whose  prejudices  were  all  arrayed 

*  Fabyan's  Chronicle,  p.  662. 

f  Me"moires  de  Commines,  vol.  i.  p.  262.  "  Et  fut  le  prince  de  Galles 
tiie"  sur  le  champ  et  plusieurs  aultres  grans  seigneurs,"  &c. — Ed.  1841. 

J  Warkworth  Chronicle,  p.  18.  The  term  "brother-in-law"  has 
reference  to  Clarence  and  Prince  Edward  having  married  two  sisters, 
the  daughters  of  the  Earl  of  Warwick. 

\  Fleetwood  Chronicle,  p.  30.  The  statement  of  the  Croyland  chron- 
icler (p.  466)  is  too  obscurely  worded  to  be  received  as  evidence  either 
on  one  side  or  the  other. 


84  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

against  Richard,  clearly  implies  that  the  prince  was 
slain  in  fight.* 

The  accounts  which  have  been  handed  down  to 
us  of  the  fate  of  the  heir  of  the  house  of  Lancaster, 
being  thus  contradictory  and  confused,  we  may 
fairly  inquire  with  what  justice  Richard  of  Glouces- 
ter can  be  arraigned  as  one  of  his  murderers.  Cer- 
tainly no  evidence  can  be  more  unsatisfactory  than 
that  which  has  been  hitherto  advanced  to  convict  him 
of  the  charge.  The  young  and  the  brave  are  seldom 
cold-blooded  assassins.  Richard,  moreover,  is 
known  to  have  been  sensitively  alive  to  the  good 
opinion  of  the  w^orld ;  and  accordingly,  when  we 
consider  how  indelible  a  stain,  even  in  that  remorse- 
less and  unscrupulous  age,  the  perpetration  of  so 
cowardly  a  murder  would  have  affixed  on  the  per- 
petrator of  it,  we  may  safely  ask  whether  it  is 
probable  that  he  would  have  sullied  the  knighthood 
which  he  valued  so  highly,  by  staining  his  sword 
with  blood  which  he  had  no  personal  interest  in 
shedding,  and  by  committing  an  act  w^hich  might 
have  been  delegated  to  the  common  headsman. f 

*  "  Is  enim  ante  Bernard!  campum  in  Theoxberye  praelio  belligerens 
ceciderat." —  ViL  Hen.  Sept.  pp.  21-2. 

f  Of  our  modern  historians,  Carte,  apparently  with  little  reason, 
intimates  that  the  Prince  of  Wales  was  assassinated  by  Dorset  and 
Hastings.  Hist,  of  Eng.  vol.  ii.  p.  790.  Hume,  on  the  contrary,  who 
quotes  the  prejudiced  authority  of  Polydore  Virgil,  Hall,  and  Holin- 
shed,  confidently  lays  it  down  that  the  assassination  took  place  in  the 
presence  of  the  king,  and  that  Clarence  and  Gloucester  took  part  in  the 
murder.  Hist,  of  Eng.  vol.  iii.  p.  244.  Lingard's  account  is  more 


KING   RICHARD   THE  THIRD.  85 

From  the  story  of  Richard  of  Gloucester  let  us 
briefly  revert  to  the  fortunes  of  the  unhappy 
Margaret  of  Anjou.  It  was  doubtless  with  a  moth- 
er's pride,  not  unmingled  with  a  mother's  fears, 
that,  on  the  morning  of  the  battle  of  Tewkesbury, 
she  had  beheld  her  gallant  son  arraying  himself  for 
his  first  and  last  fight.  When  the  mother  and  son 
parted  on  that  fatal  morning  it  was  for  the  last 
time.  Having  witnessed  the  total  defeat  of  her 
army,  Margaret  fled  with  the  ladies  of  her  suite  to 
a  church  near  Tewkesbury,  in  which  edifice,  two 
days  afterwards,  she  was  arrested  by  Sir  William 
Stanley,  who  conducted  her  to  King  Edward  at 
Coventry.  Here  she  first  received  the  afflicting  in- 
telligence that  she  was  no  longer  a  mother.  But 
other  sorrows  awaited  her.  The  haughtiest  prin- 
cess of  her  time  was  compelled  to  figure  in  her 
enemy's  triumphant  progress  to  London,  where  on 
her  arrival  she  was  committed  to  the  Tower. 
Within  these  walls  languished  her  unhappy  con- 
sort; but  strict  orders  had  been  given  that  they 
should  be  kept  asunder.  Only  a  few  hours,  indeed, 
elapsed  after  her  admission  into  the  Tower,  when 

guarded.  "  Edward,"  he  says,  "  had  the  brutality  to  strike  the  young 
prince  in  the  face  with  his  gauntlet ;  Clarence  and  Gloucester,  or  per- 
haps the  knights  in  their  retinue,  despatched  him  with  their  swords."— 
Hist.  o/Eng.  vol.  iv.  p.  189.  Lastly,  Sharon  Turner,  who  had  access  to 
better  sources  of  information,  differs  altogether  from  his  predecessors; 
his  opinion  agreeing  with  the  contemporary  account  which  we  have 
already  quoted,  that  the  prince  "  was  taken  as  flying  towards  the  town, 
and  was  slain  in  the  field." — Middle  Ages,  vol.  iii.  p.  313. 


86  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

it  was  announced  to  Margaret  that  she  was  a 
widow.  The  question  whether  King  Henry  died  a 
natural  death,  or  whether  he  fell  by  the  hand  of 
an  assassin,  we  shall  presently  have  to  consider.  Of 
Margaret  of  Anjon  it  remains  to  be  said,  that,  after 
having  been  detained  a  prisoner  in  different  fortresses 
in  England  for  nearly  five  years,  she  was  ransomed 
and  released  on  the  13th  of  November  1475,  for 
the  sum  of  fifty  thousand  crowns.  She  then  re- 
turned to  her  native  country.  But  life  had  long 
since  ceased  to  possess  any  charms  for  her.  Old 
age  seems  to  have  crept  prematurely  over  her. 
Disease  ravaged  the  beauty  which  had  formerly 
dazzled  kings.  Her  days  were  passed  in  tears  and 
lamentations.  At  length,  on  the  25th  of  August 
1480,  the  afflicted  queen  breathed  her  last  in  the 
chateau  of  Dampierre,  in  the  fifty-second  year  of 
her  age.* 

On  the  night  of  the  21st  day  of  May  1471,  the 
same  day  on  which  King  Edward  returned  to  Lon- 
don, and  seventeen  days  only  after  the  battle 
which  lost  him  his  crown,  perished,  in  durance  and 
misery,  the  last  king  of  the  house  of  Lancaster,— 
the  pious,  the  gentle,  and  most  unfortunate  king, 
Henry  YI.  The  following  day,  we  are  told,f  be- 
ing Ascension  Eve,  the  body  of  the  late  king, 
"  borne  barefaced  on  the  bier,"  and  surrounded  by 

*  Strickland's  Queens  of  England,  vol.  ii.  pp.  311-2. 

t  Fabyan,  p.  662 ;  Leland's  Coll.  vol.  ii.  p.  507  ;  Warkworth,  p.  31. 


KING   RICHARD   THE  THIRD.  87 

"more  glaves  and  staves  than  torches,"  was 
carried  from  the  Tower  to  St.  Paul's,  where  it  re- 
mained for  some  time  exposed  to  the  public  view, 
the  "face  open  that  every  man  might  see  him."  * 
"To  satisfy  the  credulous,"  writes  a  modern  his- 
torian, "  it  was  reported  that  he  died  of  grief.  But 
though  the  conqueror  might  silence  the  tongues, 
he  could  not  control  the  belief  nor  the  pens  of  his 
subjects ;  and  the  writers  who  lived  under  the  next 
dynasty,  not  only  proclaimed  the  murder,  but  at- 
tributed the  black  deed  to  the  advice,  if  not  to  the 
dagger,  of  the  younger  of  the  three  brothers, 
Richard  Duke  of  Gloucester. ' '  f  According  to 
Shakspeare,  who  follows  the  accounts  of  Hall  and 
Sir  Thomas  More,  Richard  killed  the  unhappy  king 
with  his  own  hand. 

"  K.  Henry.     Men  for  their  sons',  wives  for  their  husbands', 

And  orphans  for  their  parents'  timeless  death, 

Shall  rue  the  hour  that  ever  thou  wast  born. 

The  owl  shrieked  at  thy  birth,  an  evil  sign  ; 

The  night-crow  cried,  aboding  luckless  time ; 

Dogs  howled,  and  hideous  tempests  shook  down  trees ; 

The  raven  rook'd  her  on  the  chimney's  top, 

And  chattering  pies  in  dismal  discords  sung. 

Thy  mother  felt  more  than  a  mother's  pain, 

And  yet  brought  forth  less  than  a  mother's  hope ; 

To  wit,  an  indigest  deformed  lump, 

Not  like  the  fruit  of  such  a  goodly  tree. 

Teeth  hadst  thou  in  thy  head  when  thou  wast  born, 

To  signify  thou  cam'st  to  bite  the  world  ; 

*  Warkworth  Chronicle,  p.  21 ;  Leland's  Collect,  vol.  ii.  p.  507. 
t  Lingard's  Hist,  of  England,  vol.  iv.  p.  192. 


88  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

And,  if  the  rest  be  true  which  I  have  heard, 

Thou  cam'st 

Gloucester.     I'll  hear  no  more  : — Die,  prophet,  in  thy  speech. 

[Stabs  him."* 

That  King  Henry  met  his  end  by  foul  means, 
there  is  unhappily  only  too  much  reason  for  con- 
jecturing. To  the  house  of  York,  his  life  or  death 
unquestionably  involved  consequences  of  consider- 
able importance.  So  long  as  he  lived,  it  was  cer- 
tain that  he  would  be  a  rallying  point  for  the  house 
of  Lancaster ;  while,  if  he  died,  it  would  leave  Ed- 
ward without  any  formidable  competitor  for  the 
throne.  Edward,  then,  had  powerful  motives  for 
getting  rid  of  his  rival.  Moreover,  not  only  had 
he  the  mere  motive,  but  we  have  evidence  that  he 
projected,  if  he  did  not  actually  contrive,  the  death 
of  Henry.  "It  was  resolved  in  King  Edward's 
cabinet  council, ' '  says  Habington,  ' '  that,  to  take 
away  all  title  from  future  insurrections,  King 
Henry  should  be  sacrificed.''!  This  assertion,  if 
true,  certainly  gives  a  peculiar  importance  to  cer- 
tain instructions  given  by  Edward  to  the  Arch- 
bishop of  York,  "  to  keep  King  Henry  out  of  sanc- 
tuary. "^  Yet  more  indicative  of  Edward's  anxiety 
to  rid  himself  of  the  deposed  monarch,  is  the  fact 
of  his  having  placed  him  in  the  front  of  his  army 
at  the  recent  battle  of  Tewkesbury.  Surely  this 

*  King  Henry  VI.  Part  III.  Act  v.  Scene  6. 
t  Habington  in  Kennet,  vol.  i.  p.  455. 
}  Leland,  Coll.  vol.  ii.  p.  508. 


KING   EICHAED   THE   THIRD.  89 

could  have  been  only  with  the  hope  that  a  chance 
arrow  might  pierce  the  brain  or  the  heart  of  his 
rival. 

Admitting,  therefore,  that  grounds  exist  for  sus- 
pecting King  Edward  of  having  rid  himself  of  his 
unhappy  prisoner  by  foul  means,  we  have  next  to 
inquire  into  the  nature  of  the  evidence  which 
charges  Richard  of  Gloucester  with  having  partici- 
pated in  or  committed  the  crime.  Certainly  more 
than  one  writer,  either  contemporary  or  very  nearly 
contemporary  with  him,  have  unhesitatingly 
charged  him  with  the  guilt.  ' '  He  killed  by 
others, ' '  says  the  chronicler  Rous,  ' '  or,  as  many 
believe,  with  his  own  hand,  that  most  sacred  man 
King  Henry  VI."*  Again,  Philip  de  Commines 
writes,  ' '  Immediately  after  this  battle,  the  Duke  of 
Gloucester  either  killed  with  his  own  hand,  or 
caused  to  be  murdered  in  his  presence,  in  some  spot 
apart,  this  good  man  King  Henry,  "f  These  pas- 
sages are  doubtless  remarkable.  Let  us  turn,  how- 
ever, on  the  other  hand,  to  less  prejudiced  contem- 
porary authority,  and  we  shall  either  find  no  men- 
tion of  Gloucester's  name  as  connected  with  the 
foul  transaction,  or  else  his  presumed  participation 

*  Eous's  words  are :  "  Et  quod  in  Dei  et  omnium  Anglicorum,  immo 
omnium  nationum  ad  quorum  notitiam  pervenit,  detestabilissimum  erat, 
ipsum  sanctissimutn  virum  regem  Henricum  Sextum  per  alios,  vel 
multis  credentibus  manu  potius  propria,  interfecit." — Joannis  Rossi  His- 
toria  Regum  Anglice,  p.  215. 

t  De  Commines,  tome  i.  p.  261. 


90  KING   EICHAED   THE   THIRD. 

in  it  is  merely  introduced  as  one  of  the  rumours  of 
the  time.  "Of  the  death  of  this  prince,"  says 
Fabyan,  ' '  diverse  tales  were  told,  but  the  most 
common  fame  went  that  he  was  stykked  with  a 
dagger  by  the  hands  of  the  Duke  of  Gloucester.1"* 
Even  Polydore  Virgil  confines  himself  to  the  re- 
mark that  common  report  attributed  the  crime  to 
Gloucester.  "Henry  VI.,"  he  says  "being  not 
long  before  deprived  of  his  diadem,  was  put  to 
death  in  the  Tower  of  London.  The  continual  re- 
port is  that  Richard  Duke  of  Gloucester  killed  him 
with  a  sword,  whereby  his  brother  might  be  deliv- 
ered from  all  fear  of  hostility. "  f  "  He  slew, ' '  says 
Sir  Thomas  More,  "with  his  own  hand,  as  men  con- 
stantly say,  King  Henry  VI.,  being  prisoner  in  the 
Tower.":}:  On  the  other  hand,  the  trustworthy  con- 
tinuator  of  Croyland,  though  he  entertains  no 
doubt  of  King  Henry  having  been  murdered  in  the 
Tower,  omits  all  mention  of  the  name  of  Glouces- 
ter in  connection  with  that  mysterious  event.  §  The 

*  Fabyan's  Chronicle,  p.  662. 

t  Polydore  Virgil,  "  Ut  fama  constans  est,"  lib.  xxiv.  p.  674 ;  and 
Camd.  Soc.  Trans,  p.  156. 

t  Sir  T.  More's  Richard  III.  p.  9. 

$  The  writer  seems,  by  implication,  to  lay  the  crime  at  Edward's  door ; 
"  I  would  pass  over  in  silence  the  fact  that  at  this  period  King  Henry 
was  found  dead  in  the  Tower  of  London  ;  may  God  spare  and  grant 
time  for  repentance  to  the  person,  whoever  he  was,  who  thus  dared  to 
lay  sacrilegious  hands  upon  the  Lord's  anointed  !  Hence  it  is  that  he 
who  perpetrated  this  has  justly  earned  the  title  of  tyrant,  while  he  who 
thus  suffered  has  gained  that  of  a  glorious  martyr." — Oroyl.  Chron. 
Cont.  p.  468. 


KING   RICHARD   THE  THIRD.  91 

Fleetwood  and  Warkworth  chronicles  are  equally 
silent.  Some  weight  indeed  has  been  attached  to 
the  following  passage  in  the  latter  chronicle,  as  in- 
directly tending  to  implicate  Richard  : — "The same 
night  that  King  Edward  came  to  London,  King 
Harry,  being  in  ward  in  prison  in  the  Tower  of 
London,  was  put  to  death  the  21st  day  of  May,  on 
a  Tuesday  night,  betwixt  eleven  and  twelve  of  the 
clock ;  being  then  at  the  Tower  the  Duke  of  Glou- 
cester, brother  to  King  Edward,  and  many 
others.  "*  But  supposing  it  to  be  the  case  that  Rich- 
ard passed  that  eventful  night  in  the  Tower,  the 
fact  adds  no  additional  weight  to  the  scanty  evi- 
dence which  has  been  brought  forward  against  him. 
The  Tower  of  London,  it  must  be  remembered,  was 
at  this  period,  and  had  long  been,  a  royal  residence. 
Here  the  queen  of  Edward  II.  was  delivered  of  her 
eldest  daughter,  "  Jane  of  the  Tower,  "f 

With  Edward  III.  it  seems  to  have  been  a  favor- 
ite place  of  abode,  and  here,  in  1342,  his  queen  pre- 
sented him  with  a  princess.:}:  It  had  witnessed  the 
bridal  pleasures  of  the  unfortunate  Richard  II.  in 
1396,§  and  hither  Edward  IV.  had  conducted  his 
beautiful  queen  after  their  romantic  marriage  was 
announced  to  the  world.  Their  daughter,  the  queen 
of  Henry  VII.,  afterwards  lay-in  there  of  her  last 

*  Warkworth  Chronicle,  p.  21. 
f  Bayley's  Tower  of  London,  p.  22. 
J  Ibid.  p.  26. 
\  Ibid.  p.  35. 


92  KING   EICHAED   THE   THIRD. 

child.  Moreover,  at  this  very  time,  the  queen, 
with  "my  lord  prince,  and  my  ladies  his  daugh- 
ters," were  residing  at  the  Tower.*  Thither,  then, 
the  king,  as  a  matter  of  course,  proceeded  to  em- 
brace and  to  receive  the  congratulations  of  his  wife 
and  children.  Thither  also  his  brother  Richard 
doubtless  accompanied  him.  Unmarried,  and  appa- 
rently having  at  this  time  no  fixed  London  resi- 
dence of  his  own,  what  could  be  more  natural  than 
that  the  young  prince  should  have  passed,  under 
the  same  roof  with  his  royal  relatives,  the  single 
night  which  the  troubled  state  of  his  kingdom  per- 
mitted the  two  brothers  to  pass  in  London? 

Such  is  the  principal  evidence  on  which  Richard 
of  Gloucester  has  been  accused  of  having  com- 
mitted one  of  the  most  atrocious  crimes  on  record. 
But  is  it  likely,  is  it  even  conceivable,  that  he  was 
the  cold-blooded  assassin  such  as  he  is  described 
by  Shakspeare  and  the  later  chroniclers?  He  was 
only  in  the  nineteenth  year  of  his  age.  No  man 
living  shrank  from  incurring  the  censure  of  man- 
kind with  greater  sensitiveness.  No  man  living 
took  greater  pleasure  in  listening  to  the  shouts  and 
applause  of  his  fellow-men.  As  Habington  ob- 
serves,— "  I  cannot  believe  that  a  man  so  cunning 
in  declining  envy,  and  winning  honour  to  his  name, 
would  have  undertaken  such  a  business,  "f  More- 

*  Fleetwood  Chronicle,  pp.  34,  37. 
f  Habington  in  Kennet,  vol  i,  p.  455, 


KING   EICHAKD   THE   THIRD.  93 

over,  on  the  single  day  which  the  royal  brothers 
passed  in  London,*  Gloucester  would  seem  to  have 
been  present  with  the  king  in  all  the  bustling  and 
exciting  scenes  consequent  on  the  latter 's  triumph- 
ant return  to  his  capital,  f  He  was  present  at  the 
knighting  of  the  lord-mayor,  the  recorder,  and  the 
aldermen,  who  had  so  recently  and  so  bravely  de- 
fended the  city  for  their  sovereign  against  the 
Lancastrian  forces  commanded  by  the  Bastard  Fal- 
conbridge.  He  was  present  at  the  reception  of  the 
nobles  who  came  to  congratulate  the  king  on  his 
recent  triumphs ;  at  the  banquet  which  was  held  in 
celebration  of  these  triumphs ;  and  lastly  at  the 
councils  which  met  to  advise  with  the  king  as  to 
the  best  means  of  securing  stability  to  his  throne 
and  future  tranquillity  to  the  commonwealth.  A 
more  busy  and  eventful  day  it  would  be  difficult  to 
imagine.  And  yet  we  are  called  upon  to  believe 
that  a  valiant  youth  of  eighteen  could  secretly  steal 
away  from  scenes  of  excitement  so  congenial  to  his 
nature,  in  order  to  stab  or  stifle  in  his  bed  an  old 
and  feeble  man,  in  whose  death  or  in  whose  exist- 
ence he  could  scarcely  have  any  personal  interest 
whatever. 

It  may  be  argued,  indeed,  that  Richard  had  an 
object  in  getting  rid  of  King  Henry,  in   order  to 

*  "  The  king,  incontinent  after  his  coming  to  London,  tarried  but 
one  day,  and  went  with  his  whole  army  after  his  said  traitors  into 
Kent." — Fleetu'ood  Chronicle,  p.  38. 

t  S.  Turner's  Middle  Ages,  vol.  iii.  p.  320. 


94  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

place  himself  nearer  in  succession  to  the  throne. 
But,  unless  by  a  series  of  accidents  altogether 
beyond  the  range  of  human  probability,  or  unless 
by  a  series  of  wholesale  premeditated  crimes  which 
the  imagination  shudders  in  contemplating,  the 
probability  of  Richard  of  Gloucester  ascending  the 
throne  of  the  Plantagenets  was  slender  in  the  ex- 
treme. His  brother  Edward  was  not  only  in  the 
prime  of  youth,  but  was  already  the  father  of 
several  children.  His  brother  Clarence  had  re- 
cently married  a  beautiful  girl,  who,  in  all  proba- 
bility, would  increase  the  number  of  princes  of  the 
house  of  York.  Lastly,  presuming  that  it  was  in 
the  nature  of  Richard  of  Gloucester  to  commit  so 
dastardly  a  crime,  he  was  to  all  appearance  deprived 
of  the  means.  The  apartments  of  so  important  a 
prisoner  of  state  as  Henry  VI.  must  have  been  sen- 
tinelled by  no  inconsiderable  military  guard.  We 
have  evidence  that  two  esquires,  Robert  Ratcliffe 
and  William  Sayer,  with  no  fewer  than  ten  or 
eleven  other  persons,  were  appointed  to  attend 
upon  the  unhappy  monarch.*  Richard,  moreover, 
held  no  military  command  within  the  walls  of  the 
Tower;  and,  lastly,  Anthony  Earl  Rivers,  who  at 
this  period  was  lieutenant  of  this  palatial  fortress, 
was  not  only  on  bad  terms  with  Richard,  but  was 
also  one  of  the  most  unlikely  men  living  to  lend 
himself  to  the  commission  of  a  cold-blooded 

*  Rymer's  Foedera,  vol.  xi.  p.  712. 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  95 

murder.  Again,  one  contemporary  writer,  at  least, 
has  attributed  the  death  of  Henry  to  mere  natural 
causes.  According  to  his  statement,  such  was  the 
effect  produced  on  the  mind  of  the  imbecile  king 
by  his  personal  misfortunes  and  the  utter  ruin  of 
his  friends,  that  "of  pure  displeasure  and  melan- 
choly he  died."*  And  after  all,  considering  the 
maze  of  confusion  and  prejudice  through  which  we 
are  forced  to  grope  our  way  to  the  light,  this  may 
possibly  be  the  true  version  of  a  story  which  for 
centuries  has  been  invested  by  the  poet  and  the 
historian  with  so  much  mystery  and  horror. 

It  wTould  be  no  less  interesting  than  curious  were 
wre  enabled  to  trace  under  what  circumstances  and 
at  what  particular  period  Richard  and  the  Lady 
Anne  first  met  after  the  battle  of  Tewkesbury.  It 
suited  the  genius  of  Shakspeare  to  represent  their 
meeting  as  having  taken  place  at  night  in  the 
streets  of  London,  some  twenty  days  after  the 
battle.  It  was  on  that  sad  occasion,  according  to 
the  immortal  dramatist,  when  the  corpse  of  King 
Henry  VI.  was  carried,  "without  singing  or  say- 
ing," from  St.  Paul's  to  Blackfriars,  at  which  latter 
place  it  was  subsequently  embarked  in  "  a  kind  of 
barge  solemnly  prepared  and  provided  with  lighted 
torches,  "f  for  the  purpose  of  being  conveyed  by 
water  to  Chertsey.  Anne,  as  chief  mourner,  is  de- 

*  Fleetwood  Chronicle,  p.  38. 
t  Croyl.  Chron.  Cont.  p.  468. 


96  KING   KICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

scribed  as  ordering  the  bearers  to  "  set  down  their 
honourable  load,"  and  then,  after  a  pathetic  ad- 
dress to  the  corpse,  uttering  the  most  terrible  im- 
precations against  the  assumed  murderer  of  her 
husband  and  of  her  father-in-law,— 

"  Be  it  lawful  that  I  invocate  thy  ghost, 
To  hear  the  lamentations  of  poor  Anne, 
Wife  to  thy  Edward,  to  thy  slaughtered  son, 
Stabbed  by  the  self-same  hand  that  made  these  wounds! 
Lo !  in  these  windows  that  let  forth  thy  life, 
I  pour  the  helpless  balm  of  my  poor  eyes : 
O,  cursed  be  the  hand  that  made  these  holes  ! 
Cursed  the  heart  that  had  the  heart  to  do  it ! 
Cursed  the  blood  that  let  this  blood  from  hence  ! 
More  direful  hap  betide  that  hated  wretch, 
That  makes  us  wretched  by  the  death  of  thee, 
Than  I  can  wish  to  adders,  spiders,  toads, 
Or  any  creeping  venomed  thing  that  lives  ! 
If  ever  he  have  child,  abortive  be  it, 
Prodigious,  and  untimely  brought  to  light, 
Whose  ugly  and  unnatural  aspect 
May  fright  the  hopeful  mother  at  the  view  ; 
And  that  be  heir  to  his  unhappiness ! 
If  ever  he  have  wife,  let  her  be  made 
More  miserable  by  the  death  of  him 
Than  I  am  made  by  my  young  lord  and  thee ! — 
Come  now,  toward  Chertsey  with  your  holy  load."* 

Richard  is  then  represented  as  appearing  on  the 
stage  as  if  by  accident,  when  there  takes  place  that 
striking  scene,  in  which  Richard  of  Gloucester 
woos,  flatters,  and  wins  the  Lady  Anne. 

"  Your  beauty,  that  did  haunt  me  in  my  sleep, 
To  undertake  the  death  of  all  the  world, 
So  I  might  live  one  hour  in  your  sweet  bosom."f 

*King  Richard  III.  Act  i.  Scene  2.  t  Ibid. 


KING   RICHARD    THE   THIRD.  97 

That  such  a  scene  of  intemperate  recrimination 
should  have  taken  place  between  a  royal  youth  of 
eighteen  and  a  high-born  young  lady  of  seventeen, 
at  such  a  spot,  too,  and  under  such  circumstances, 
is,  to  say  the  least,  extremely  unlikely.  But  not 
only  is  it  improbable,  but  we  have  evidence  that  no 
such  interview  could  by  any  possibility  have  taken 
place.  At  the  time  when  the  corpse  of  Henry  VI. 
was  on  its  way  to  Chertsey,  Richard  was  marching 
with  his  brother,  King  Edward,  against  the  Bas- 
tard Falconbridge ;  while  Anne,  who  had  fallen 
into  the  hands  of  Edward  after  the  battle  of  Tewkes- 
bury,*  was  in  all  probability  in  close  custody  with 
her  mother-in-law,  Queen  Margaret,  in  the  Tower. 

From  the  Tower,  Anne  Neville  would  seem  to 
have  been  transferred  by  the  king  to  the  charge  and 
keeping  of  her  sister,  the  Duchess  of  Clarence. 
We  might  have  presumed,  therefore,  that  from  this 
period  Gloucester  was  afforded  every  favourable 
opportunity  of  conversing  with,  and  paying  court 
to,  his  fair  cousin.  We  have  evidence,  however, 
that  such  was  far  from  having  been  the  case.  Clar- 
ence, indeed,  had  good  reasons  for  wishing  to  keep 
his  brother  and  sister-in-law  apart.  In  right  of  his 
wife,  the  eldest  daughter  of  the  Earl  of  Warwick, 
he  claimed  to  be  the  sole  possessor  of  the  princely 
domains  of  the  Kingmaker ;  whereas,  in  the  event 
of  Gloucester  marrying  the  younger  sister,  there 

*  Leland's  Collect,  vol.  ii.  p.  506. 


98  KLNU   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

could  be  little  doubt  but  that  he  would  endeavor  to 
obtain  a  share  of  the  inheritance.  Clarence  there- 
fore resolved  to  oppose  their  union  by  every  means 
within  his  power. 

Under  these  circumstances,  Gloucester  not  only 
found  himself  denied  all  opportunity  of  preferring 
his  suit,  but  Anne  suddenly  and  mysteriously  dis- 
appeared from  the  halls  of  Clarence.  Powerful  as 
Gloucester's  position  was  in  the  State,  high  too  as 
he  stood  in  favour  with  his  brother  Edward,  the 
probability  seems  to  be  that  the  king  was  on  the 
point  of  adopting  stringent  measures  to  secure  him 
the  hand  of  Anne  Neville,  when  Clarence,  in  order 
to  counteract  their  intentions,  "caused  the  damsel 
to  be  concealed."*  It  would  be  interesting  to  be 
able  to  follow  Richard  in  the  search  which  he  insti- 
tuted to  discover  the  lady  of  his  love.  Only  the 
romantic  fact,  however,  has  been  handed  down  to 
us,  that  when  at  length  he  traced  her  to  her  place 
of  concealment,  he  found  the  heiress  of  the  Nevilles 
and  of  the  Beauchamps,  the  affianced  of  a  Prince  of 
Wales,  and  the  cousin  of  the  reigning  sovereign,  in 
an  obscure  street  in  London,  disguised  in  the  garb 
of  a  kitchen-maid.  By  those  who  have  been  taught 
to  regard  Richard  of  Gloucester  as  the  deformed 
monster  and  cold-blooded  miscreant  which  history 
has  usually  painted  him,  it  might  naturally  be 
imagined  that  in  assuming  the  garb  and  submitting 

*  Croyl.  Chron.  Cont.  p.  469. 


KING   KICHARD   THE   THIRD.  99 

to  the  drudgery  of  a  serving- woman,  the  object  of 
Anne  Neville  was  to  escape  from  the  hateful  impor- 
tunities of  a  man  whom  she  believed  to  have  been 
her  husband's  assassin.  On  the  contrary,  she 
seems  to  have  placed  herself,  without  any  hesita- 
tion, under  the  protection  of  Richard,  who,  in  the 
first  instance,  removed  her  to  the  sanctuary  of  St. 
Martin  Vie-  Grand,  from  whence  she  was  afterwards 
transferred  to  the  guardianship  of  her  uncle,  George 
Neville,  Archbishop  of  York.  In  the  mean  time 
Gloucester  made  successful  suit  to  the  king  for  her 
hand.  The  date  of  his  marriage  to  the  Lady  Anne 
is  uncertain,  but  as  she  bore  him  a  child  in  1473,* 
the  probability  is  that  they  were  united  in  the 
course  of  the  preceding  year,  possibly  as  soon  as 
her  year  of  mourning  for  young  Edward  had  ex- 
pired. 

Such  appears  to  have  been  the  commencement  of 
the  famous  quarrel  between  the  Dukes  of  Clarence 
and  Gloucester.  When  the  latter  subsequently 
laid  claim  to  a  moiety  of  the  Kingmaker's  estates, 
Clarence,  highly  incensed,  insisted  on  his  own  ex- 
clusive right  to  the  lands  of  the  Nevilles.  "He 
may  well  have  my  lady  sister-in-law,"  said  Clar- 
ence, "but  we  will  part  no  livelihood. "  f  So 
great  was  his  exasperation,  that  a  hostile  encoun- 

*  Speed's  Hist,  of  Great  Britain,  p.  726 ;  Sandford's  Geneal.    Hist, 
book  v.  p.  410. 

t  Paston  Letters,  by  Fenn,  vol.  ii.  p.  92. 


100  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

ter  between  the  two  brothers  was  considered  at  the 
time  as  not  improbable.  "As  for  other  tidings, " 
writes  Sir  John  Paston,  ' '  I  trust  to  God  that  the 
two  Dukes  of  Clarence  and  Gloucester  shall  be  set 
at  one  by  the  award  of  the  king. ' '  *  Subsequently 
both  brothers  made  an  appeal  to  the  king,  who  de- 
cided that  they  should  plead  their  several  causes 
before  him  in  council.  Great  ability  is  said  to 
have  been  displayed  on  both  sides.  "  So  many 
arguments,"  writes  a  contemporary,  "were,  with 
the  greatest  acuteness,  put  forward  on  either  side, 
in  the  king's  presence,  who  sat  in  judgment  in  the 
council-chamber,  that  all  present,  and  the  lawyers 
even,  were  quite  surprised  that  these  princes  should 
find  arguments  in  such  abundance  by  means  of 
which  to  support  their  respective  causes,  "f  Sub- 
sequently an  act  of  parliament  was  passed  (1474) 
which  divided  the  inheritance  of  the  two  sisters  be- 
tween them,  giving  to  each  brother  a  life -interest  in 
his  wife's  estates,  in  the  event  of  his  surviving 
her 4  Among  other  lands  of  the  Beauchamps  and 
Nevilles,  Richard  became  possessed  of  another 
princely  residence  in  the  north,  Barnard  Castle,  in 
the  county  of  Durham.  §  The  only  sufferer  by  the 
transaction  was  the  illustrious  widow  of  the  King- 

*  Paston  Letters,  by  Fenn,  vol.  v.  p.  60. 
|  Croy.  Chron.  Cont.  p.  470. 
J  S.  Turner's  Middle  Ages,  vol.  iii.  p.  324. 
$  Surtees'  Hist,  of  Durham,  vol.  iv.  p.  66. 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  101 

maker, — the  sole  heiress  and  mistress  of  the  mag- 
nificent estates  of  the  Beauchamps,  Earls  of  War- 
wick,— who  was  thus  left  dependent  and  almost 
penniless.* 

And  when  Richard  of  Gloucester  played  the 
lover,  was  he  in  reality  the  deformed,  crooked,  re- 
pulsive being,  such  as  he  is  described  in  the  preju- 
diced pages  of  the  Lancastrian  chroniclers  and  in 
the  immortal  dramas  of  Shakspeare?  According 
to  Sir  Thomas  More,  he  was  "little  of  stature,  ill- 
featured  of  limbs,  crook-backed,  his  left  shoulder 
much  higher  than  his  right,  and  hard-featured  of 
visage."  f  Hall  and  Speed  draw  an  exactly  similar 
picture  of  Richard.:}:  Holinshed  also  describes  him 
as  "  small  and  little  of  stature,"  his  body  "greatly 
deformed,"  his  "  countenance  cruel,"  and  "savour- 
ing of  malice,  fraud,  and  deceit."  §  His  very  birth 
is  described  as  having  been  a  monstrous  and  unnat- 
ural one.  According  to  one  writer,  his  mother, 
the  Duchess  of  York,  was  two  years  pregnant  of 
him ;  and  when  at  length  she  gave  birth  to  him, 
she  suffered  intolerable  anguish.  |  Hall  tells  us 
that  he  came  into  the  world  "  feet  forward."  "  At 
his  nativity,"  says  the  chronicler  Rous,  "the 
scorpion  was  in  the  ascendant;  he  came  into  the 

*  Croy.  Chron.  Cont.  p.  470. 

t  Sir  T.  More's  King  Richard  III.  p.  8. 

J  Hall's  Chronicle,  p.  342 ;  Speed,  p.  694. 

\  Holinshed's  Chronicle,  vol.  iii.  p.  447. 

||  Rossi  Hist.  Reg.  Ang.  p.  215 ;  More,  ut  supra,  p.  8. 


102  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

world  with  teeth,  and  with  a  head  of  hair  reaching 
to  his  shoulders."  * 

"  For  I  have  often  heard  my  mother  say 
I  came  into  the  world  with  my  legs  forward  : 
Had  I  not  reason,  think  ye,  to  make  haste 
And  seek  their  ruin  that  usurped  our  right  ? 
The  midwife  wondered  ;  and  the  women  cried, 
'  O  Jesus  bless  us,  he  is  born  with  teeth  ! ' 
And  so  I  was,  which  plainly  signified 
That  I  should  snarl,  and  bite,  and  play  the  dog."  f 

According  to  Camden,  "his  monstrous  birth  fore- 
showed his  monstrous  proceedings,  for  he  was  born 
with  all  his  teeth,  and  hair  to  his  shoulders.";}: 
Sir  Thomas  More  also  tells  us  that  he  came  into  the 
world  ' '  with  his  feet  forward, ' '  and  also  ' '  not  un- 
toothed."  §  To  sum  up,  in  fact,  his  assumed  im- 
perfections in  a  single  sentence, — "Of  body  he 
was  but  low,  crooked-backed,  hook-shouldered, 
splay-footed,  and  goggle-eyed ;  his  face  little  and 
round,  his  complexion  swarthy,  his  left  arm  from 
his  birth  dry  and  withered ;  born  a  monster  in 
nature,  with  all  his  teeth,  with  hair  on  his  head, 
and  nails  on  his  fingers  and  toes :  and  just  such 
were  the  qualities  of  his  mind. ' ' 

Such  are  the  deformities  of  body  and  mind  which 
ignorance  and  prejudice  formerly  delighted  to  at- 

*KossiHist.  p.  215. 

t  King  Henry  VI.  Part  III.  Act  v.  Sc.  6. 

J  Camden's  Remains,  p.  353. 

%  Sir  T.  More's  Richard  III.  p.  8. 

||  Baker's  Chronicles  of  the  Kings  of  England,  p.  234. 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  103 

tribute  to  Richard  of  Gloucester.  Let  us  turn, 
however,  to  the  pages  of  coutemporary  writers, 
more  than  one  of  wThom  were  not  only  familiar  with 
the  person  of  Richard,  but  had  actually  conversed 
with  him,  and  we  shall  discover  no  evidence  what- 
ever to  corroborate  the  distorted  and  ridiculous 
pictures  drawn  of  him  by  the  chroniclers  who  wrote 
under  the  Tudor  dynasty.  Neither  the  continuator 
of  the  chronicle  of  Croyland,  nor  William  of  Wyr- 
cester,  nor  Abbot  Whethamstede,  nor  the  author 
of  the  Fleetwood  chronicle  makes  allusion  to  any 
deformity  in  the  person  of  Richard  of  Gloucester. 
Rons,  another  contemporary,  bitterly  prejudiced  as 
he  is  against  Richard,  contents  himself  with  aver- 
ring that  he  was  small  of  stature,  having  a  short 
face  and  uneven  shoiilders,  the  left  being  lower 
than  the  right.  But  even  Rous  seems  to  admit 
that  his  countenance  was  not  disagreeable,*  His 
face  is  said  to  have  borne  a  resemblance  to  that  of 
his  late  father  the  Duke  of  York,  a  circumstance 
which  was  afterwards  alluded  to  by  Dr.  Shaw  from 
the  pulpit  at  Paul's  Cross  before  a  large  con- 
course of  people,  when  Richard  was  himself 
present.  According  to  the  reverend  doctor,  Richard 
stood  before  them  ' '  the  special  pattern  of  knightly 
prowess,  as  well  in  all  princely  behaviour  as  in  the 
lineaments  and  favour  of  his  visage,  representing 

*  Rous's  expression  is,  "  ut  scorpio  vultu  blandiens,  cauda  pungens, 
sicet  ipse  cunctis  se  ostendit." — Hist.  Rerj.  Aug.  p.  215. 


104  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

the  very  face  of  the  noble  duke  his  father. ' ?  * 
Had  Richard  been  the  "  hard-visaged,"  "goggle- 
eyed,  "  "  cruel-countenanced  ' '  being  he  has  been  de- 
scribed, the  crowd  would  have  replied  to  the  idle 
flattery  with  a  shout  of  derision.  Philip  de  Com- 
mines,  who  must  have  often  seen  Richard  in  com- 
pany with  his  brother  Edward,  twice  speaks  of  the 
latter  as  the  most  beautiful  prince  he  had  ever  seen.f 
Surely,  therefore,  if  there  had  existed  any  remark- 
able contrast  in  the  personal  appearance  of  the  two 
brothers,  it  would  have  been  pointed  out  by  the 
gossiping  and  free-spoken  historian.  Again,  Stow, 
who  was  inquisitive  and  curious  in  regard  to  the 
habits  and  persons  of  princes,  though  he  seems  to 
have  made  diligent  inquiries  among  "  ancient 
men,"  who  had  seen  and  remembered  Richard  of 
Gloucester,  could  arrive  at  no  other  conclusion 
than  that  he  was  "  of  bodily  shape  comely  enough, 
only  of  low  stature. ' '  £  Lastly,  the  ' '  old  Countess  of 
Desmond,"  who  had  danced  with  Richard,  declared 
to  more  than  one  of  her  contemporaries  that  he 
was  the  handsomest  man  in  the  room,  except  his 

*  Holinshed,  vol.  iii.  p.  389  ;  Buck  in  Kennet,  vol.  i.  p.  548. 
t  Memoires,  vol.  i.  pp.  239,  374. 

J  Survey  of  London  Life  prefixed  to  vol.  i.  p.  xviii. ;  and  Buck  in 
Kennet,  vol.  i.  p.  548.  "  This  prince,"  says  Hume,  "  was  of  a  small 
stature,  hump-backed,  and  had  a  harsh,  disagreeable  countenance."— 
Hist,  of  Engl.  vol.  iii.  p.  288.  According  to  a  more  diligent  inquirer 
than  Hume,  "  his  face  was  handsome." — Sharon  Turner's  Middle  Ayes, 
vol.  iii.  p.  443. 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  105 

brother  Edward,  and  very  well  made.*  Our  own 
impression  is,  that  though  his  stature  was  low  he 
was  not  misshapen ;  that  though  his  figure  was 
slight  it  was  compact  and  muscular;  and  that, 
though  not  exactly  handsome,  his  countenance 
was  far  from  being  unprepossessing,  f 

It  seems  to  have  been  shortly  after  his  marriage 
with  Anne  Neville  that  Richard  quitted  the  volup- 
tuous court  of  his  brother  Edward,  for  the  purpose 
of  discharging  his  important  duties  as  chief  senes- 
chal of  the  duchy  of  Lancaster,  and  superintend- 
ing his  princely  estates  in  the  north  of  England. 
Some  notion  may  be  formed  of  the  vastness  of  his 
territorial  possessions  in  the  north,  when  we  men- 
tion that,  in  addition  to  the  castle  and  domain  of 
Sheriff -Hutton,  he  now  held  the  castle  and  manor 
of  Middleham,  another  magnificent  abode  of  the 
great  Earl  of  Warwick,  as  well  as  the  noble  castle, 
manor,  and  demesnes  of  Skipton,  in  the  deanery  of 
Craven,  which  had  been  seized  by  the  crown  on  the 
death  of  John" Lord  Clifford  at  the  battle  of  Towton. 
Of  these  Middleham  appears  to  have  been  his 

*  See  Appendix  A. 

f  Lord  Orford  is  of  opinion  that  what  Rous  tells  us  of  Richard 
having  had  unequal  shoulders  is  the  truth,  but  that,  with  this  excep- 
tion, the  king  had  no  personal  deformity.  "  The  truth  I  take  to  have 
been  this.  Richard,  who  was  slender  and  not  tall,  had  one  shoulder 
a  little  higher  than  the  other;  a  defect,  by  the  magnifying  glasses  of 
party,  by  distance  of  time,  and  by  the  amplification  of  tradition,  easily 
swelled  into  shocking  deformity." — Historic  Doubts,  Lord  Orford's 
Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  166. 


106  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

favourite  residence.  Here,  in  his  boyhood,  he  had 
first  gazed  upon  the  fair  face  of  Anne  Neville,  and 
here,  in  1473,  she  presented  him  with  the  only 
child  which  she  is  known  to  have  borne  him,  Ed- 
ward, afterwards  Prince  of  Wales.  It  was,  how- 
ever, at  Pomfret  or  Pontefract  Castle,  at  that  time 
one  of  the  most  magnificent  baronial  residences  in 
England,  that  Richard  principally  held  his  court. 
Here,  invested  with  almost  regal  powers,  and  living 
in  almost  regal  splendour,  he  continued  for  the 
next  few  years  to  discharge  with  justice  and  vigour 
the  high  duties  intmsted  to  him ;  winning  for  him- 
self the  golden  opinions  of  men  by  his  charities, 
his  condescension  and  inflexible  probity,  and  at  the 
same  time  firmly  attaching  the  people  of  the  north 
to  the  government  of  his  brother  Edward.  Thus 
high  stood  the  character,  and  thus  unimpeachable 
was  the  conduct,  of  Richard  Duke  of  Gloucester, 
at  the  age  of  twenty-two. 

It  was  in  the  month  of  June  1475  that  Edward 
IV.,  carrying  with  him,  besides  a  large  force  of 
infantry,  fifteen  thousand  mounted  archers,  and 
attended  by  the  flower  of  his  nobility,  sailed  from 
Sandwich  for  the  purpose  of  claiming  the  crown  of 
France.  De  Commines  tells  us  that  no  king  of 
England  had  ever  invaded  France  at  the  head  of  so 
splendid  an  army.*  Richard  of  Gloucester  followed 
the  banner  of  his  chivalrous  brother,  and  landed  at 

*  Memoircs,  tome  i.  p.  336. 


KING   RICHARD    THE   THIRD.  107 

Calais  by  his  side.  The  story  of  that  unsatisfactory 
expedition,  and  of  the  disgraceful  treaty  by  which 
it  was  followed,  may  be  related  in  a  few  words. 
The  challenge,  which  Edward  sent  to  Louis  XI.  to 
resign  the  crown  of  France,  was  answered  by  civil- 
ities; his  threats  were  responded  to  by  bribes. 
Eventually  the  two  monarchs  met  personally,  and 
exchanged  courtesies,  on  a  bridge  over  the  Somme 
at  Picquigny,  between  Calais  and  Amiens.  Across 
the  bridge  was  erected  a  rail  or  trellis  of  woodwork, 
in  which  interstices  were  contrived  of  sufficient  size 
only  to  admit  of  one  monarch  taking  the  hand  of 
the  other.  Close  to  the  bridge  were  posted  twenty- 
two  English  lancemen,  who  kept  guard  so  long  as 
their  master  remained  in  conference  with  the  French 
king.  ' '  During  this  time, ' '  writes  Monstrelet,  ' '  a 
very  heavy  fall  of  rain  came  on,  to  the  great  vexa- 
tion of  the  French  lords,  wTho  had  dressed  them- 
selves and  their  horses  in  their  richest  habiliments, 
in  honour  to  King  Edward."*  The  conference 
terminated  by  the  English  monarch  guaranteeing  to 
withdraw  his  splendid  army  from  France,  on  con- 
dition of  receiving  an  earnest  of  75,000  crowns  and 
an  annual  tribute  of  50,000  crowns.  The  ministers 
and  favourites  of  King  Edward  also  came  in  for 
their  share  of  French  gold.  Lord  Howard,  besides 
a  pension,  received  24,000  crowns  in  money  and 
plate ;  Lord  Hastings  was  awarded  1000  marks  in 

*  Monstrelet's  Chronicles,  vol.  iv.  p.  351. 


108  KING   RICHAKD   THE   THIRD. 

plate,  and  a  pension  of  2000  crowns  a  year.  Even 
the  Lord  Chancellor  and  the  Master  of  the  Rolls 
made  no  scruple  of  receiving  French  gold.  "The 
king,"  writes  Monstrelet,  "made  very  liberal 
presents  to  all  the  courtiers  of  Edward,  and  to 
the  heralds  and  trumpets,  who  made  great  rejoic- 
ings for  the  same,  crying  out, — '  Largesse  au  (res 
noble  et  puissant  roi  de  France  !  Largesse,  lar- 
gesse /'  "*  In  the  time  of  Philip  de  Commines,  the 
receipts  given  by  the  English  nobles  for  their  pen- 
sions and  bribes  were  still  to  be  seen  in  the  cham- 
ber of  accounts.  Hastings  alone  refused  to  give 
any  written  acknowledgment  for  what  he  had  re- 
ceived. "If  you  wish  me  to  take  it,"  he  said, 
"you  may  put  it  into  my  sleeve." f 

Thus  was  concluded  the  treaty  of  Picquigny,  a 
treaty  most  disgraceful  to  both  monarchs.  Richard 
of  Gloucester,  alone,  of  all  the  generals  and  minis- 
ters of  Edward,  refused  to  barter  the  honour  of  his 
country  for  gold.  He  even  refused  to  be  present  at 
the  meeting  of  the  two  kings  at  Picquigny 4  After 
defiance  sent,  and  a  crown  challenged,  ' '  what, ' '  he 
said,  ' '  would  the  world  think  of  the  wisdom  and 
courage  of  England,  that  could  cross  the  seas  with 
so  noble  and  expensive  an  expedition,  and  then  re- 
turn without  drawing  a  sword?"  §  Even  Lord 

*  Monstrelet's  Chronicles,  pp.  352,  353. 
f  De  Commines,  tome  ii.  pp.  167,  169. 
J  Ibid,  tome  i.  p.  377. 
$  Habington  in  Kennet,  vol.  i.  p.  465. 


KING   EICHARD   THE  THIRD.  109 

Bacon,  prejudiced  as  he  is  against  Richard  of  Glou- 
cester, has  done  justice  to  his  patriotism  and  disin- 
terestedness. "As  upon  all  other  occasions, "  he 
writes,  ' '  Richard,  then  Duke  of  Gloucester,  stood 
upon  the  side  of  honour,  raising  his  own  reputation 
to  the  disadvantage  of  the  king  his  brother,  and 
drawing  the  eyes  of  all,  especially  of  the  nobles  and 
soldiers,  upon  himself."* 

The  next  events  of  importance  connected  with 
the  story  of  the  Duke  of  Gloucester,  were  the  trial 
and  execution  of  his  fickle  and  intriguing  brother, 
the  Duke  of  Clarence.  Delighting  to  implicate  the 
young  prince  in  almost  every  crime  and  every  trag- 
ical event  which  occurred  during  his  eventful 
career,  the  Tudor  historians,  as  usual,  overlook  the 
cruel  and  vindictive  character  of  Edward  IV.,  and 
confidently  attribute  his  having  signed  the  death- 
warrant  of  his  brother  to  the  intrigues  and  persua- 
sions of  Gloucester.  No  man,  according  to  Lord 
Bacon,  "thought  any  ignominy  or  contumely  un- 
worthy of  him  who  had  been  the  executioner  of 
King  Henry  VI.  with  his  own  hands,  and  the  con- 
triver of  the  death  of  the  Duke  of  Clarence,  his 
brother."!  Sir  Thomas  More,  another  of.  his  ac- 
cusers, aggravates  his  presumed  offence  by  taxing 
him  with  the  grossest  hypocrisy.  ' '  Some  wise 
men,"  he  writes,  "ween  that  his  drift,  covertly 

*  Bacon's  Life  of  Henry  VII.  in  Kennet,  vol.  i.  p.  578. 
flbid. 


110  KING   EICHAED   THE   THIED. 

conveyed,  lacked  not  in  helping  forth  his  brother 
of  Clarence  to  his  death;  which  he  resisted 
openly."*  "After  Clarence,"  writes  a  later  his- 
torian, ' '  had  offered  his  mass-penny  in  the  Tower 
of  London,  he  was  drowned  in  a  butt  of  malmsey ; 
his  brother,  the  Duke  of  Gloucester,  assisting 
thereat  with  his  own  proper  hands,  "f  Lastly, 
Shakspeare  not  only  charges  him  with  fratricide, 
but  represents  him  as  carrying  the  death-warrant 
to  the  Tower,  and  urging  the  murderers  to 
despatch  :— 

" Sirs,  be  sudden  in  the  execution, 


Withal  obdurate  ;  do  not  hear  him  plead  ; 
For  Clarence  is  well  spoken,  and,  perhaps, 
May  move  your  hearts  to  pity  if  you  mark  hun."J 

Before  arraigning  a  suspected  person  of  crime, 
we  should  in  the  first  instance  look  for  the  motive. 
It  may  be  argued,  in  the  present  case,  that  Glou- 
cester's motives  for  getting  rid  of  an  elder  brother 
were  sufficiently  strong  and  apparent :  viz.  that  he 
was  unscrupulously  bent  on  obtaining  possession  of 
the  crown  ;  that  Clarence  not  only  stood  individu- 
ally in  the  way  of  his  ambition,  but  that,  had  he 
lived,  he  would  probably  have  begot  numerous 
heirs  to  the  crown ;  and,  lastly,  that,  as  Clarence's 
only  son,  the  infant  Earl  of  Warwick,  was  included 
in  the  attainder  of  his  father,  Richard,  by  one 

*  Sir  T.  More's  Eichard  III.  p.  10. 

|  Sandford's  Geneal.  Hist,  book  v.  p.  438. 

J  King  Kichard  III.  Act  i.  Sc.  3. 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  Ill 

stroke  of  cruel  policy,  hoped  to  effect  the  removal 
of  two  persons  who  opposed  themselves  to  the  real- 
ization of  his  ambitious  hopes. 

But  of  what  use  is  it  to  imagine  a  motive,  unless 
the  guilt  be  also  substantiated  by  evidence?  In  the 
present  case,  not  only  does  no  such  evidence  seem 
to  be  forthcoming,  but  such  evidence  as  exists  ap- 
pears to  be  in  favour  of  Richard's  innocence.  For 
instance,  two  of  the  most  bigoted  of  the  Tudor 
chroniclers,  Hall  and  Holinshed,  not  only  are  silent 
on  the  charge  of  his  having  been  the  instigator  of 
his  brother's  death,  but  admit  that  he  impugned 
the  rigour  of  the  sentence  passed  upon  Clarence. 
Again,  had  that  unhappy  prince  been  sent  to  exe- 
cution by  the  individual  fiat  of  his  brother  Edward, 
it  might,  with  some  shadow  of  argument,  be 
reasoned  that  Gloucester  was  the  king's  secret 
adviser  on  the  occasion.  So  far,  however,  from 
Clarence  having  been  sent  to  his  last  account  by 
this  summary  process,  it  is  an  historical  fact  that 
he  was  not  only  publicly  tried  and  condemned  by 
the  highest  tribunal  in  the  realm,  the  House  of 
Lords,  but,  moreover,  in  so  heinous  a  light  were  his 
treasonable  practices  regarded,  that  the  House  of 
Commons,  with  the  Speaker  at  their  head,  appeared 
at  the  bar  of  the  Lords  and  pressed  for  his  execu- 
tion.* Certainly,  had  Richard  availed  himself  of 
his  privilege  as  a  peer,  and  sat  and  voted  at 

*  Croyl.  Chron.  Cont.  p.  480. 


112  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD. 

Clarence's  trial,  presumptive  evidence  would  have 
been  afforded  that  he  desired  his  brother's  death. 
But  not  only  is  there  no  evidence  of  his  having  sat 
at  that  tribunal,  but,  on  the  contrary,  there  is 
much  more  reason  for  arriving  at  the  conclusion 
that,  at  the  time  of  Clarence's  trial  and  execution, 
Richard  was  quietly  discharging  the  duties  of  his 
government  in  the  north  of  England.* 

It  has  been  asserted,  that  it  was  with  much  un- 
willingness that  Edward  signed  the  death-warrant 
of  Clarence ;  and,  chiefly  on  this  ground,  it  has 
been  assumed  that  Richard  must  have  taken  upon 
himself  the  diabolical  office  of  arresting  the  hand 
of  mercy.  But,  supposing  that  King  Edward 
really  displayed  such  scruples,  and  that  those 
scruples  were  sincere,  were  there  not  other  persons, 
who  were  interested  quite  as  much  as  Gloucester, 
in  endeavoring  to  stifle  them?  By  the  queen  and 
her  ambitious  and  grasping  kindred,  Clarence  had 
been  long  held  in  fear  and  detestation.  Rivers, 
more  especially,  envied  him  his  princely  estates, 
the  greater  portion  of  which  were  actually  con- 
ferred upon  him  by  the  king  after  the  death  of 
Clarence.  The  latter,  moreover,  had  been  the  rival 
of  Rivers  for  the  hand  of  the  heiress  of  Burgundy,  f 
But,  of  all  men,  the  king  himself  was  the  most 

*  Halsted's  Life  of  Kichard  III.  vol.  i.  p.  331. 

f  Polydore  Virgil,  lib.  xxiv.  p.  681 ;  Speed,  p.  689 ;  Hall,  p.  326 ; 
Bymer's  Fcedera,  vol.  xii.  p.  95. 


KING   EICHABD   THE  THIRD.  113 

interested  in  getting  rid  of  Clarence.  Not  only 
was  Clarence  obnoxious  to  him  on  account  of  his 
former  and  successful  rebellion,  but  the  king  had 
still  every  reason  to  dread  him  as  a  popular  idol,  a 
turbulent  subject,  and  an  irreclaimable  traitor. 
Accordingly,  we  not  only  find  Edward  standing 
personally  forward  as  his  brother's  accuser,  but 
actually  pleading  against  him  in  the  House  of 
Lords.  In  that  "sad  strife,"  writes  the  Croyland 
continuator,  ' '  not  a  single  person  uttered  a  word 
against  the  duke  except  the  king ;  not  one  indivi- 
dual made  answer  to  the  king  except  the  duke."  * 
But  Clarence  had  been  guilty  of  two  other  offences, 
neither  of  which  Edward  was  likely  to  forgive. 
In  the  first  place,  Clarence  had  openly  disputed 
his  brother's  legitimacy,  on  the  ground  of  their 
mother's  incontinency ;  f  and,  in  the  next  place, 
the  act  of  parliament  which  had  declared  Edward 
to  be  a  usurper,  and  had  settled  the  crown  on 
Clarence  and  his  descendants  after  the  demise  of 
Edward,  son  of  Henry  VI.,  was  still  unrepealed. 
Considering,  therefore,  how  unpardonable  were 
these  offences,  and  how  jealous  and  vindictive  was 
the  king's  disposition,  we  may  perhaps  not  be  very 
uncharitable  in  assuming  that  it  required  no  extra- 
ordinary persuasions,  from  any  person  whatever,  to 
induce  Edward  to  consent  to  his  brother's  death 4 

*Croyl.  Chron.  Cont.  p.  479. 

fRot.  Parl.  vol.  vi.  p.  194. 

J  It  may  he  mentioned  that  one  of  the  first  steps  taken  by  Edward 


114  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

after  his  brother's  execution  was  to  obtain  a  repeal  of  the  obnoxious 
acts  of  parliament  which  had  been  passed  during  Warwick's  usurpa- 
tion ;  viz.  "  the  pretensed  4Dth  year  of  the  reign  of  King  Henry  VI." 
Up  to  the  date  of  their  repeal,  the  young  Earl  of  Warwick,  as  heir  to 
the  late  Duke  of  Clarence,  was  de  jure  King  of  England.  Rot.  Parl. 
vol.  vi.  p.  191. 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE  KISE  TO  GREATNESS  OF  RICHARD  OF  GLOUCESTER. 

A  S  keeper  of  the  Northern  Marches,  the  Duke  of 
-*-^-  Gloucester  held  for  some  years  the  most  im- 
portant military  command  in  England.  It  was  not, 
however,  till  the  year  1482,  when  war  broke  out 
between  Edward  of  England  and  James  III.  of 
Scotland,  that  Richard  was  again  afforded  an  oppor- 
tunity of  displaying  that  military  ability  of  which, 
in  his  boyhood,  he  had  given  such  high  promise  at 
Barnet  and  Tewkesbury.  Having  resolved  on  the 
invasion  of  Scotland,  Edward  intrusted  the  entire 
command  of  his  army,  consisting  of  25,000  men,  to 
his  brother  Gloucester.  Henry  Earl  of  Northum- 
berland led  the  van ;  Thomas  Lord  Stanley  com- 
manded the  rear.  The  expedition  appears  to  have 
been  conducted  with  great  ability,  and  proved  to 
be  eminently  successful.  Gloucester's  first  attempt 
was  upon  Berwick,  which  city  he  entered  without 
opposition.  The  castle,  however,  proved  to  be 
strong  enough  to  maintain  a  protracted  siege,  and 
accordingly,  leaving  Lord  Stanley  to  besiege  it  with 
a  force  of  4000  men,  Richard  pushed  forward  into 
the  heart  of  Scotland  with  th*>  remainder  of  his 

115 


116  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

army.  In  the  mean  time,  unprepared  for  so  rapid 
an  advance  as  that  of  Gloucester,  King  James  had 
shut  himself  up  in  Edinburgh  Castle.  His  only 
hope  was  in  his  warlike  barons,  who,  disgusted 
with  the  conduct  of  their  unworthy  sovereign,  with- 
drew their  aid  from  him  in  his  hour  of  need. 
Gloucester  was  thus  enabled  to  enter  Edinburgh  in 
triumph.  At  the  earnest  entreaty  of  the  Duke  of 
Albany,  who  accompanied  him  on  his  march,  he 
saved  the  town  and  inhabitants  from  fire  and  sword. 
"His  entry,"  says  Habington,  "  was  only  a  specta- 
cle of  glory,  the  people  applauding  the  mercy  of 
an  enemy  who  presented  them  with  a  triumph,  not 
a  battle."*  At  the  same  time  he  displayed  a  de- 
termination which  completely  overawed  the  Scottish 
people ;  causing  it  to  be  proclaimed  by  sound  of 
trumpet,  in  the  different  quarters  of  the  city,  that, 
unless  the  demands  of  the  King  of  England  were 
complied  with  before  the  month  of  September,  he 
would  lay  w^aste  the  whole  kingdom  with  fire  and 
sword.  This  threat  produced  the  desired  effect. 
Trembling  at  the  prospect  of  the  disasters  which 
threatened  their  country,  the  Scottish  nobles  sent 
to  him  to  entreat  a  suspension  of  arms.  Subse- 
quently a  treaty  wTas  executed,  by  one  of  the  arti- 
cles of  which  Berwick  Castle  was  delivered  up  to 
the  English.  Having  thus  achieved  the  objects  of 
his  expedition,  the  young  duke  returned  to  his  own 

*  Habington  in  Kennet,  vol.  i  p.  476. 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  117 

country,  to  receive  the  thanks  of  parliament  and 
the  applause  of  his  fellow-countrymen. 

On  the  9th  of  April  1483,  in  the  forty-second 
year  of  his  age,  died  the  victor  of  nine  pitched  bat- 
tles, King  Edward  IV.  Valiant  almost  to  rash- 
ness, beautiful  in  person,*  majestic  in  stature,  and 
dangerously  fascinating  in  his  manners  and  ad- 
dress, he  united  with  his  outward  accomplishments 
qualities  of  a  higher  order,  which  ought  to  have 
rendered  his  name  illustrious.  Unfortunately,  how- 
ever, the  only  atmosphere  which  he  loved  was  that 
of  pleasure ;  the  only  deity  which  he  worshipped 
was  female  beauty.  "His  thouglits,"  says  De 
Commines,  "  were  always  occupied  with  the  ladies, 
with  hunting,  and  with  dress.  When  he  hunted, 
his  custom  was  to  have  several  tents  set  up  for  the 
ladies,  whom  he  entertained  in  a  magnificent  man- 
ner, "f  The  enervating  delights  of  the  banquet, 
the  pursuit  of  a  new  mistress,  or  the  invention  of 
some  fashion  in  dress  more  graceful  or  more  mag- 
nificent than  the  last,  constituted  the  daily  and 
nightly  occupations  of  the  English  Sardanapalus. 
The  fascination  which  he  exercised  over  women 
may  be  exemplified  by  an  amusing  anecdote  related 
by  Holinshed.  At  a  time  when  his  pecuniary 

*  Philip  de  Commines,  who  had  more  than  once  conversed  with 
Edward,  speaks  of  him  on  one  occasion  as  the  handsomest  prince,  and 
on  another  occasion  as  the  handsomest  man,  whom  he  had  ever  seen. 
Memoires  de  Commines,  vol.  i.  pp.  239,  374. 

t  De  Commines,  tome  i.  p.  246,  tome  ii.  p.  281. 


118  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

difficulties  compelled  him  to  exact  money  from  his 
subjects  under  the  name  of  benevolence,  he  sent, 
among  other  persons,  for  a  wealthy  widow,  of  whom 
he  inquired,  with  a  smile,  how  much  she  would 
subscribe  towards  the  prosecution  of  the  war. 
Charmed  by  his.  grace  and  beauty, — "  For  thy 
sweet  face, ' '  said  the  old  lady,  ' '  thou  shalt  have 
twenty  pounds."  As  this  was  double  the  amount 
which  the  young  king  had  expected  to  obtain  from 
her,  he  accompanied  his  thanks  by  a  kiss.  This 
act  of  royal  condescension  was  irresistible.  Instead 
of  twenty  pounds,  the  delighted  matron  promised 
him  forty.* 

Vigorous  as  was  Edward's  constitution,  it  gradu- 
ally yielded  to  the  inroads  occasioned  by  his  exceed- 
ing indulgence  in  the  pleasures  of  the  table,  and 
the  frequency  of  his  amours.  The  personal  beauty, 
for  which  he  had  been  so  conspicuous,  passed  away, 
and,  though  not  "seized  by  any  known  kind  of 
malady,  "f  it  became  evident  for  some  time  before 
his  death  that  he  was  gradually  sinking  into  his 
grave.  Had  his  days  been  providentially  prolonged 
till  his  son,  the  Prince  of  Wales,  had  attained  his 
majority,  his  subjects,  perhaps,  would  have  had 
little  reason  to  regret  the  royal  voluptuary.  But 
at  that  turbulent  period  of  our  history,  when  the 
rule  of  a  woman  or  of  a  minor  almost  inevitably 

*  Holinshed's  Chronicles,  vol.  iii.  p.  330. 
t  Croyl.  Chron.  Cont.  p.  483. 


KING    RICHAED    THE   THIRD.  119 

induced  a  violent  struggle  for  the  possession  of  the 
sovereign  authority,  the  premature  death  of  King 
Edward  could  scarcely  fail  to  be  productive  of 
renewed  misfortunes  and  bloodshed  to  his  country, 
as  well  as  of  peril  to  his  children.  Eighty  years 
later  we  find  the  celebrated  John  Knox  propound- 
ing from  the  pulpit  at  Edinburgh,  in  the  very  pres- 
ence of  the  husband  of  his  queen,  that  Gfod  occa- 
sionally sets  boys  and  women  over  a  nation  to 
punish  it  for  its  crimes.  The  dangers  and  incon- 
veniences to  be  apprehended  from  the  rule  of 
women  and  minors  was  the  excuse  which  the  Duke 
of  Buckingham  subsequently  made  when  he  pre- 
ferred Richard  of  Gloucester  to  be  his  king  instead 
of  his  legitimate  sovereign  Edward  V.  It  was 
perhaps  the  best  excuse  which  could  be  made  for 
Richard  when  he  deposed  his  nephew ;  perhaps  the 
only  excuse  for  the  bishops  and  mitred  abbots  who 
abetted  and  sanctioned  his  usurpation. 

Fortunately  for  Edward,  he  had  the  satisfaction, 
at  the  close  of  his  days,  of  flattering  himself  that 
he  had  reconciled  hatred  and  envy  to  one  another, 
and  the  conviction,  vain  as  it  was,  soothed  him  at 
the  last.  His  death  became  him  better  than  his 
life.  The  closing  days  of  his  existence  were  spent 
in  tender  endeavours  to  secure  the  future  happiness 
and  welfare  of  his  children,  in  devising  means  for 
repairing  the  injuries  which  he  had  inflicted  on  his 
subjects,  and  in  humble  and  penitent  attempts  to 


120  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

render  himself  less  unworthy  of  appearing  in  the 
presence  of  his  Creator. 

The  death  of  his  brother  Edward  naturally 
effected  an  extraordinary  revolution  in  the  position 
and  fortunes  of  Richard  of  Gloucester.  It  at  once 
opened  to  him  a  career  in  which,  by  his  masterly 
talents,  he  was  well  qualified  to  play  a  prominent 
part,  whether  for  good  or  for  evil.  To  every  reflect- 
ing and  well-informed  person  in  England,  a  civil 
war  at  this  period  must  have  appeared  almost  inevi- 
table. One  individual  only  there  was  who,  from 
his  exalted  rank, — his  high  reputation  as  a  states- 
man and  a  soldier, — his  independence  of  faction,— 
the  friendly  terms  on  which  he  had  ever  associated 
with  men  of  all  parties, — his  profound  knowiedge 
of  human  character  and  of  the  motives  of  human 
action,  as  well  as  his  singular  power  of  concealing 
his  own  thoughts  and  feelings  from  the  scrutiny  of 
others, — was  capable  of  grappling  with  every  emer- 
gency, and  of  thus  preserving  his  country  from  the 
horrors  of  civil  war.  That  man  was  Richard  Duke 
of  Gloucester. 

At  the  time  when  King  Edward  breathed  his  last, 
the  two  great  opposing  parties  in  the  State  con- 
sisted, on  the  one  hand,  of  the  Woodville  faction, 
supported  by  the  authority  and  influence  of  the 
queen,  and,  on  the  other,  of  the  ancient  nobility, 
at  the  head  of  whom  was  a  prince  of  the  house  of 
Lancaster,  Henry  Stafford,  Duke  of  Buckingham. 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  121 

The  queen,  during  the  lifetime  of  her  husband,  had 
pursued  a  policy,  the  wisdom  of  which  was  now 
about  to  be  put  to  the  test.  Eager  to  maintain  her 
influence  over  him  so  long  as  he  lived,  and,  in  the 
event  of  his  death,  to  rule  in  the  name  of  her  son, 
she  had  warmly  and  successfully  advocated  the 
principle  of  curbing  the  dangerous  power  of  the 
old  nobility  by  the  creation  of  a  new  aristocracy. 
Men  had  been  advanced  to  the  peerage  who  had 
little  pretension  to  the  honour ;  the  ancient  nobility 
may  be  said  to  have  been  banished  from  court. 
The  queen  more  especially  delighted  to  surround 
herself  with  her  own  friends  and  her  own  kindred. 
This  invidious  and  short-sighted  policy  naturally 
threatened  to  be  productive  of  future  evil.  So 
long,  indeed,  as  Edward  continued  in  the  fulness 
and  splendour  of  his  power,  he  had  found  little 
difficulty  in  preventing  open  contentions  between 
the  queen's  faction  and  the  irritated  barons.  But, 
as  his  end  approached,  the  fatal  consequences, 
which  might  result  from  the  undue  partiality  which 
he  had  displayed,  began  to  fill  his  mind  with  pain- 
ful apprehensions.  His  children,  he  felt,  might  be 
sacrificed  to  the  rage  of  faction;  his  first-born 
might  be  robbed  of  his  inheritance.  It  was  to  the 
credit  of  Edward  that  he  had  not  only  ever  shown 
himself  a  most  affectionate  father,  but,  even  in  his 
worst  days  of  indolence  and  sensuality,  he  had 
manifested  a  deep  interest  in  the  spiritual  as  well 


122  KING   EICHAKD   THE   THIRD. 

as  temporal  welfare  of  his  offspring.*  No  time 
was  now  to  be  lost  in  remedying  the  imprudence 
of  the  past ;  and  accordingly,  having  summoned  to 
his  sick-chamber  the  leaders  of  the  rival  factions, 
the  dying  monarch  in  the  most  solemn  manner  ex- 
horted them,  for  the  sake  of  the  love  which  they 
bore  him,  and  the  loyalty  which  they  owed  to  his 
son,  to  forget  their  mutual  animosities,  and  to 
unite  in  one  endeavour  to  secure  the  tranquillity 
and  well-being  of  the  State.  "  And  therewithal, " 
writes  Sir  Thomas  More,  "the  king,  no  longer 
enduring  to  sit  up,  laid  him  down  on  his  right  side, 
his  face  toward  them ;  and  none  was  there  present 
that  could  refrain  from  weeping,  "f 

Thus  solemnly  appealed  to,  the  rival  leaders  were 
induced  to  embrace  each  other,  and  an  ostensible 
reconciliation  took  place.  But  the  ancient  families 
of  England  had  far  too  much  cause  to  be  offended 
and  disgusted  with  the  upstart  Woodvilles  to  admit 
of  its  being  a  lasting  one.  The  grasping  and  in- 
ordinate ambition  of  the  queen's  kindred,  their 
rapid  and  provoking  rise  from  the  position  of 
simple  esquires  and  gentlewomen  to  the  possession 

*  Sharon  Turner  has  published,  from  a  MS.  in  the  British  Museum, 
a  code  of  instructions  drawn  up  by  King  Edward  for  the  guidance  of 
his  son's  studies  and  devotions ;  a  document,  scarcely  more  interesting 
as  evincing  the  interest  which  the  king  took  in  his  son's  welfare,  than 
as  affording  a  curious  picture  of  the  habits  and  customs  of  the  age. 
Hist,  of  the  Middle  Ages,  vol.  iii.  p.  342. 

f  Sir  T.  More's  Kichard  III.  p.  17. 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  123 

of  the  proudest  honours  of  the  peerage,  as  well  as 
the  greediness  which  they  had  manifested  in  seek- 
ing to  monopolize  the  highest  offices  in  the  State 
and  the  wealthiest  heiresses  in  the  land,  were 
offences  in  the  eyes  of  the  old  feudal  nobility  which 
could  be  expiated  only  by  their  degradation  or 
their  blood.  Through  the  queen's  influence  with 
her  husband,  her  brother,  Anthony  Woodville,  had 
married  Elizabeth,  the  wealthy  heiress  of  Thomas 
Lord  Scales.  Her  younger  brother  John  had  mar- 
ried the  dowager  Duchess  of  Norfolk, — the  union 
of  a  youth  of  nineteen  to  a  woman  in  her  eightieth 
year.  Thomas  Grey,  the  queen's  son  by  her  former 
husband,  had  married  the  king's  niece  Anne, 
daughter  and  heiress  of  Henry  Duke  of  Exeter. 
Of  the  queen's  six  sisters,  five  were  severally  mar- 
ried to  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  to  the  Earls  of 
Arundel,  Essex,  Huntingdon,  and  Lord  Strange 
of  Knokyn.  The  rapacity  of  the  queen's  kindred 
had  already  fomented  a  formidable  rebellion  in 
England,  in  which  her  father,  recently  created 
Earl  Rivers,  and  her  brother  John,  lost  their 
heads.*  Instead,  however,  of  taking  warning 

*  The  insurrection,  headed  by  Robin  of  Redesdale,  in  1469.  The 
substance  of  the  grievances  of  which  the  insurgents  complained,  was, 
"  that  the  king  had  been  too  lavish  of  gifts  to  the  queen's  relations  and 
some  others ;  that  through  them  he  had  spent  church  monies,  without 
repayment ;  that  they  had  caused  him  to  diminish  his  household  and 
charge  the  commons  with  great  impositions ;  that  they  would  not  suffer 
the  king's  laws  to  be  executed  but  through  them  ;  and  that  .they  had 
caused  him  to  estrange  the  true  lords  of  his  blood  from  his  secret  coun- 


124  KING    KICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

from  the  past,  they  persisted  in  provoking  an  hostil- 
ity which  effected  the  change  of  a  dynasty  and  in- 
volved the  ruin  of  their  house. 

Of  the  queen's  obnoxious  relatives,  the  two  high- 
est in  power  and  place,  at  this  period,  were  Thomas 
Grey,  Marquis  of  Dorset,  the  queen's  son  by  her 
first  husband,  Sir  John  Grey  ;  and  her  splendid  and 
accomplished  brother,  Anthony  Woodville,  Earl 
Rivers.  For  many  reasons  the  latter  was  the  ob- 
ject of  the  greatest  jealousy  and  dislike.  Prefer- 
ring him  above  the  proudest  barons  of  the  realm, 
King  Edward  had  sought  to  obtain  for  him  the 
hand  of  Margaret,  sister  of  the  King  of  Scotland, 
and  on  another  occasion  had  sanctioned  his  com- 
ing forward  as  the  rival  of  the  king's  brother,  the 
Duke  of  Clarence,  for  the  hand  of  the  heiress  of 
Burgundy.  These  were  unpardonable  offences  in 
the  eyes  of  the  old  nobility.  But  the  barons  had 
not  only  reason  to  be  jealous  of,  but  also  to  fear, 
the  power  of  the  Woodvilles.  To  obtain  the  guar- 
dianship of  the  young  king, — to  establish  a  com- 
plete ascendency  over  his  mind, — and  by  this  means 
to  carry  out  their  project  of  completely  crushing 
the  ancient  nobility,  and  obtaining  for  themselves 
a  monopoly  over  the  highest  honours  and  offices  of 
the  State, — were  only  too  obviously  the  policy  and 
the  intention  of  the  queen  and  her  kindred. 

cil."—Harl.  MS.  No.  543,  quoted  in  S.  Turner's  Middle  Ages,  vol.  iii. 
p.  254. 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  125 

We  have  already  mentioned  that  the  queen  was 
the  main  stay  of  the  Woodville  faction ;  the  Duke 
of  Buckingham  the  head  of  the  rival  party.  But 
there  were  two  other  influential  persons,  who  may 
be  said  to  have  belonged  to  neither  party,  who, 
from  their  high  rank,  their  integrity,  their  ability, 
and  experience  in  the  affairs  of  state,  were  natur- 
ally looked  up  to  and  courted  by  both  of  the  op- 
posing factions.  Those  persons  were  the  celebrated 
William  Lord  Hastings,  and  Thomas  Lord  Stanley. 
The  former,  uniting  the  brilliant  qualities  of  the 
warrior  with  the  wisdom  of  the  statesman  and  the 
accomplishments  of  the  courtier,  had  for  many 
years  been  the  chosen  and  beloved  companion  of  the 
late  king.  He  had  fought  by  the  side  of  his  royal 
master  on  many  a  field  of  battle ;  had  cheerfully 
accompanied  him  when  he  was  compelled  to  fly  to 
the  Low  Countries ;  and,  no  less  fascinating  at  the 
banquet  than  renowned  on  the  field  of  battle,  was 
alike  his  adviser  in  the  closet,  the  sharer  of  his 
pleasures,  and  the  confidant  of  his  amours.  The 
character  of  Lord  Stanley  was  more  reserved,  and 
his  nature  more  cold  than  that  of  Hastings.  Never- 
theless, though  Edward  apparently  loved  him  less 
than  he  loved  Hastings,  he  seems  to  have  been  no 
less  trusted  and  esteemed  by  the  late  king.  Both 
of  these  powerful  noblemen  wTere  strongly  preju- 
diced against  the  queen  and  her  kindred,  and  were 
therefore  likely  to  join  in  any  constitutional  oppo- 


126  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

sition  which  might  be  formed  for  depriving  them 
of  the  management  of  affairs.  But,  on  the  other 
hand,  they  had  been  personally  and  devotedly  at- 
tached to  Edward  ;  they  had  solemnly  sworn  to  him 
to  maintain  the  rights  and  interests  of  his  heir ; 
and,  accordingly,  not  only  were  they  likely  to 
prove  formidable  antagonists  in  the  event  of  any 
attempt  made  to  put  aside  the  youthful  heir  of  the 
house  of  York,  but  there  can  be  little  doubt  that, 
had  the  alternative  been  forced  upon  them,  they 
would  have  preferred  perishing  on  the  scaffold 
rather  than  have  failed  in  their  loyalty  to  the  living 
and  their  promises  to  the  dead. 

At  such  a  crisis  it  was  natural  that  the  thoughts, 
not  only  of  the  two  rival  factions,  but  of  all  mod- 
erate men,  should  turn  with  anxiety  to  Richard  of 
Gloucester.  His  character  for  wisdom  and  valour 
was  established  beyond  all  question.  No  man  liv- 
ing was  more  interested  in  averting  the  horrors  of 
civil  wTar.  As  governor  of  the  Northern  Marches 
he  was  in  command  of  the  largest  military  force  in 
England.  Hitherto,  with  his  usual  prudence,  Glou- 
cester had  abstained  from  identifying  himself  with 
either  party ;  both  sides,  therefore,  were  sanguine 
of  obtaining  his  countenance  and  support.  As  for 
Richard  individually,  all  his  prejudices  were  natur- 
ally on  the  side  of  the  barons.  Aware  doubtless 
of  this  fact,  Buckingham,  shortly  after  the  death 
of  the  king,  secretly  despatched  an  express  to  him, 


KING   EICHAED   THE  THIKD.  127 

intimating  his  want  of  confidence  in  the  govern- 
ment of  the  queen,  and  expressing  his  conviction 
that  he  was  the  proper  person  to  rule  the  realm 
during  the  minority  of  his  nephew.  That  such  was 
not  only  the  conscientious  opinion  of  Buckingham 
and  Hastings,  but  the  general  conviction  of  the 
people  of  England,  there  seems  to  be  little  doubt. 
Richard,  in  fact,  as  the  only  prince  of  the  house  of 
Plantagenet  who  had  attained  the  age  of  manhood, 
and  as  the  paternal  uncle  of  the  youthful  monarch, 
was  doubtless,  according  to  precedent,  the  proper 
person  to  be  invested  with  the  regency.  King  Ed- 
ward, moreover,  in  his  last  moments,  had  shown 
how  great  was  the  sense  which  he  entertained  of 
his  brother's  integrity,  by  nominating  him  the  guar- 
dian of  his  sons.* 

And  what,  may  be  asked,  was  at  this  period  the 
true  character  of  Richard  of  Gloucester?  Are  we 
to  regard  him  in  the  light  in  which  the  Tudor 
chroniclers  have  painted  him, — as  not  only  the  con- 
victed perpetrator  of  past  murders,  but  as  the  de- 
liberate and  cold-blooded  projector  of  future  and 
and  still  more  atrocious  crimes?  Can  it  be  true 
that  from  his  boyhood  he  had  been  secretly  the  am- 
bitious plotter, — that  he  was  in  reality  the  wily  and 
unscrupulous  villain  such  as  history  usually  repre- 
sents him?  Can  it  be  true  that  his  virtues  were 
but  a  name,  and  his  good  actions  but  cloaks  for  dis- 

*  Polydore  Virgil,  p.  171,  Camd.  Soc.  Trans. 


128  KING    RICHARD    THE   THIRD. 

simulation  and  hypocrisy?  In  a  word,  are  we  to 
believe  that  he  had  been  lying  in  wait  but  till  the 
breath  should  have  quitted  the  body  of  his  brother 
Edward,  in  order  to  spring  upon  his  remaining  vic- 
tims, and,  by  means  of  the  most  crooked  and  bar- 
barous policy,  seize  the  crown  which  was  the  birth- 
right of  another? 

Certainly,  there  is  much  of  this  sweeping  oblo- 
quy of  which  we  are  inclined  to  relieve  the  memory 
of  this  extraordinary  prince.  Had  Richard,  in 
fact,  been  even  the  suspected,  much  less  the  con- 
victed, villain  which  our  early  historians  represent 
him  to  have  been,  is  it  probable  that  he  would  have 
been  trusted  to  the  last  by  men  who  were  not  only 
personally  and  intimately  acquainted  with  him,  but 
who  were  also  experienced  arid  keen-sighted  obser- 
vers of  human  character?  Is  it  likely  that  so  shrewd 
a  prince  as  Edward  IV.  would  in  his  last  moments 
have  confided  to  him  the  guardianship  of  his  be- 
loved  children, — those  children  whom  Richard  had 
only  to  put  out  of  the  way  in  order  himself  to 
mount  the  throne  ?  Or,  if  Buckingham  and  Hast- 
ings had  entertained  any  suspicion  of  his  true  char- 
acter, would  they  have  helped  to  invest  him  with 
an  authority  which  subseqiiently  enabled  him  to 
shed  their  blood  on  the  scaffold,  and  to  seize  a  crown 
which  Hastings,  at  least,  would  have  died  to  pre- 
serve for  another? 

That  Richard  was  deeply  impregnated  with  that 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  129 

inordinate  ambition  which  was  the  ruling  passion 
and  vice  of  the  Plantagenets, — that  he  yielded  to 
temptation  so  soon  as  the  allurement  became  diffi- 
cult to  resist, — and,  lastly,  that  he  possessed  him- 
self of  the  sovereign  power  by  unjustifiable  and  un- 
pardonable means, — we  are  not  prepared  to  deny. 
At  present,  however,  this  is  not  the  point  at  issue. 
The  question  we  would  solve  is,  at  what  particular 
period  of  his  life  temptation  grew  too  powerful  to 
be  resisted,  and  consequently  diverted  him  from 
the  path  of  virtue  and  honour  to  that  of  perfidy 
and  crime.  In  our  own  opinion, — which,  however, 
with  deference  we  submit, — Richard,  to  the  close 
of  Edward's  reign,  had  continued  to  be  a  loyal  sub- 
ject, a  devoted  brother,  a  useful  citizen,  and  an  up- 
right man.  Even  when  the  death  of  Edward  forced 
him  into  a  more  extended  sphere  of  action,  the 
probability,  we  think,  is  that  he  originally  enter- 
tained no  deeper  design  than  that  of  obtaining  the 
guardianship  of  the  young  king,  and,  during  his 
minority,  the  protectorship  of  the  realm.  But  as 
he  advanced,  step  by  step,  towards  the  accomplish- 
ment of  these  legitimate  ends,  the  complicated 
difficulties  which  encountered  him,  the  plots  laid 
by  others  against  his  government  and  person,  and 
the  dangerous  possession  of 

"  a  power  too  great  to  keep  or  to  resign,"- 

added,  no  doubt,  to  his  natural  and  insatiable  am- 
bition, and  the  dazzling  temptation  of  a  crown, — 


130  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

had  each  their  share  in  inducing  him  to  consult  nis 
own  safety  by  the  destruction  of  others,  and  to 
grasp  the  glittering  prize  which  was  placed  within 
his  reach.  That,  from  the  moment  in  which  he 
aspired  to  the  protectorship,  he  brought  into  play 
those  powers  of  deception  and  dissimulation  of 
which  he  was  so  finished  a  master,  there  seems  to 
be  no  question.  It  was  not,  however,  we  conceive, 
till  a  later  period,  that  he  devised  and  committed 
those  blacker  acts  of  blood  and  treachery  which, 
after  a  lapse  of  two  years,  were  avenged  by  his 
tragical  death  on  the  field  of  Bosworth.  To  us 
Richard  figures,  at  two  different  periods  of  his  life, 
as  a  different  and  distinct  person.  As  much  as  the 
Diana  of  the  Greeks  differed  from  the  Astarte  of 
the  Carthaginians,  and  as  the  Satan  of  Milton 
differs  from  the  cloven-footed  bugbear  of  the  nur- 
sery, so  great  does  the  distinction  appear  to  have 
been  between  the  youthful  arid  upright  prince  who 
dispensed  even  justice  at  Pontefract  and  spurned 
the  gold  of  King  Louis  at  Picquigny,  and  the  Rich- 
ard who  subsequently  became  the  murderer  of  his 
nephews  and  the  guilty  possessor  of  a  crown.* 

*  Had  Richard's  designs  upon  the  throne  been  entertained  at  so  early 
a  period  as  has  usually  been  imagined,  surely  he  would  have  hastened 
to  London,  either  during  his  brother's  last  illness  or  else  immediately 
after  his  decease,  for  the  purpose  of  counteracting  the  measures  of  his 
opponents,  courting  the  suffrages  of  the  citizens  of  London,  and  other- 
wise advancing  his  ends.  Edward,  however,  died  on  the  9th  of  April, 
whercns  Richard  remained  in  the  north  till  the  end  of  the  month,  and 
did  not  reach  London  till  the  4th  of  May. 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  131 

Of  the  ability  of  Richard  of  Gloucester  there  can 
be  no  more  question  than  there  is  of  the  intensity 
of  his  ambition  or  of  the  profoundness  of  his  dissim- 
ulation. His  conduct,  from  the  hour  when  great- 
ness tempted  him,  till  the  hour  in  which  he 
achieved  greatness,  displays  a  masterpiece  of  state- 
craft. True  it  is  that  his  policy  was  tortuous  and 
guilty ;  but  it  must  be  remembered  that  he  had  to 
deal  with  men  as  guilty  and  almost  as  wily  as  him- 
self. Moreover,  before  judging  him  too  severely, 
we  should  carefully  consider  the  character  of  the 
age  in  which  he  lived.  It  wTas  an  age  when  men 
were  inflamed  against  each  other  by  feelings  of  the 
fiercest  vindictiveness ;  when  human  life  was  held 
at  a  fearful  discount,  and  when  deception  was  re- 
garded almost  as  an  accomplishment.  He  lived  in 
the  middle  ages,  when  belted  knights  deemed  it  a 
meritorious  act  to  knock  out  the  brains  of  a  defence- 
less prelate  at  the  altar ;  in  an  age,  when  an  abbot 
went  publicly  forth  with  assassins  to  waylay  and 
murder  a  brother  abbot ;  and  when  a  Duke  of  Bur- 
gundy suborned  men  of  birth  to  assassinate  a  Duke 
of  Orleans  in  his  presence.*  Richard,  moreover, 
had  lived  through  a  war  of  extermination,  unsur- 

*  Even  at  a  considerably  later  period,  we  find  the  Cardinal  of  Lor- 
raine confidently  charged  with  having  poisoned  the  Cardinal  d'Armag- 
nac;  and,  again,  Henry  III.  of  France  causing  the  Due  de  Guise  to  be 
massacred  before  his  face.  As  Henry  gazed  on  the  lifeless  but  magnifi- 
cent form  which  lay  at  his  feet,  "  Mon  Dieu,"  he  calmly  said,  "  comme 
il  est  grand,  etant  mart !  " 


132  KING   RICHARD    THE   THIRD. 

passed  perhaps  in  the  annals  of  ferocious  retali- 
ation. From  his  childhood,  he  had  been  conversant 
with  proscriptions,  with  bloodshed,  and  deceit. 
He  had  not  only  witnessed  the  cruelties  perpetrated 
by  his  brother  Edward,  and  by  Margaret  of  Anjou, 
—the  wholesale  slaughter  of  thousands  iiying  from 
the  field  of  battle,  and  the  deliberate  butchery  of 
the  noblest  and  the  bravest  on  the  scaffold, — but  he 
had  been  accustomed  to  regard  these  atrocities  as 
part  of  a  necessary  policy.  Moreover,  it  may  be 
questioned  whether  his  guilt  in  seizing  a  crown  is 
so  heinous  as  it  appears  at  first  sight.  We  must 
remember  that  the  throne  of  England  was  virtually 
elective ;  that  the  accession  of  the  young  in  years, 
or  the  feeble  in  mind,  was  almost  certain  to  pro- 
voke a  contention  for  the  kingly  power ;  that  the 
king  himself  was  but  the  head  of  the  barons,  and 
that,  in  troubled  times,  the  most  powerful  of  the 
barons  looked  upon  the  crown  as  a  prize  within  the 
legitimate  scope  of  his  ambition. 

Assuming  it  to  be  true,  that,  from  the  time  of  his 
brother's  decease,  Richard  secretly  aspired  to  invest 
himself  with  the  kingly  power,  the  obstacles  against 
which  he  had  to  contend  must,  even  to  himself, 
have  appeared  almost  insurmountable.  The  suc- 
cess which  crowned  his  machinations  was  amazing. 
That  he  should  have  been  able  to  overcome  the 
powerful  Woodville  faction,  strengthened  as  it  was 
by  the  authority  of  the  queen,  and  by  having  pos- 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  133 

session  of  the  king's  person, — that  he  should 
have  been  able  to  crush  the  scarcely  less  powerful 
party  of  which  Hastings  and  Stanley  were  the 
chiefs, — that  he  should  have  found  the  means  of 
duping  the  people,  and  intimidating  parliament, 
into  an  approval  of  his  usurpation ;  in  a  word, 
that,  within  the  short  space  of  eleven  weeks  after 
his  brother's  death,  he  should  have  sat  on  the 
kingly  seat  in  Westminster  Hall,  and  have  accom- 
plished this  great  object  without  occasioning  a  single 
popular  tumult  or  shedding  a  drop  of  plebeian 
blood, — certainly  impresses  us  with  a  high  opinion 
of  his  fearlessness  and  talents,  whatever  judgment 
we  may  form  of  his  motives  and  his  conduct. 

King  Edward  IV.  was  the  father  of  two  sons,  the 
unfortunate  Edward  V.,  now  in  his  thirteenth 
year,  and  Richard  Duke  of  York,  in  his  eleventh 
year.*  At  the  time  of  his  father's  death,  the  young 
king  was  residing  at  Ludlow  Castle  on  the  borders 
of  Wales,  under  the  especial  guardianship  of  his 
gallant  and  accomplished  uncle,  Anthony  Earl 
Rivers.  The  Duke  of  York  was  residing  at  court 
with  his  mother. 

At  the  first  council  held  after  the  death  of  her 
husband,  the  widowed  queen  sat  at  the  head  of  the 
table,  listening  with  deep  interest  to  the  delibera- 
tions. On  one  point,  at  least,  all  present  appear  to 

*  The  former  was  born  on  the  1st  of  November  1470,  the  latter  in 
1472. 


134  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

have  been  agreed.  It  was  decided  that  no  time 
should  be  lost  in  bringing  the  young  king  to  Lon- 
don, and  a  day  so  early  as  the  4th  of  May  was  fixed 
upon  for  his  coronation.  But  at  this  point  their 
good  understanding  ceased.  Rivers,  having  the 
government  of  South  Wales,  had  under  his  com- 
mand a  considerable  military  force,  at  the  head 
of  which  it  wTas  suggested  by  the  queen  that  her 
son  should  be  escorted  to  London.  This  project 
met  with  prompt  and  strong  opposition  from  cer- 
tain members  of  the  council,  and  more  especially 
from  Hastings.  Between  him  and  Rivers  there 
existed  a  deadly  hostility.  Rivers  hated  Hastings 
because  the  late  king  had  preferred  him  to  be  gov- 
ernor of  Calais  and  G  nines ;  while  Hastings  had 
every  reason  to  attribute  to  Rivers  an  imprisonment 
which  he  had  formerly  undergone  in  the  Tower, 
and  his  narrow 'escape  from  the  block.  The  queen, 
too,  seems  to  have  conceived  an  invincible  aversion 
to  Hastings ;  believing  him  to  have  been  too 
' '  secretly  familiar  with  her  late  husband  in  wanton 
company."  Under  these  circumstances,  the  arrival 
of  Rivers  in  the  metropolis  at  the  head  of  an  army 
would  probably  have  been  the  signal  for  sending 
Hastings  to  the  scaffold.  But  Hastings  had  also 
ample  public,  as  well  as  private  motives,  for  his 
opposition.  The  anxiety  of  the  Woodvilles  to  fill 
London  with  armed  men  was  sufficiently  indicative 
of  their  intention  to  maintain  their  power  by  force, 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  135 

and  consequently  could  not  fail  to  excite  the  alarm 
and  jealousy  of  the  accomplished  statesman.  Ac- 
cordingly, he  boldly  denounced  the  precaution, 
not  only  as  unnecessary,  but  as  a  signal  for  again 
lighting  up  civil  war.  He  even  threatened  to 
depart  for  his  government  at  Calais.  Who,  he 
inquired,  were  the  king's  foes,  against  whom  it  was 
considered  necessary  to  defend  him?  Was  it  his 
Grace  of  Gloucester, — was  it  Lord  Stanley, — was  it 
himself?  Eventually  the  arguments  and  opposition 
of  Hastings  and  his  friends  prevailed.  It  was 
arranged,  by  way  of  compromise,  that  the  young 
king  should  be  escorted  from  Ludlow  by  no  larger 
a  force  than  two  thousand  followers.* 

In  the  mean  time,  though  still  absent  at  his  gov- 
ernment in  the  north,  the  Duke  of  Gloucester  had 
been  kept  duly  informed  by  his  partisans  of  every 
important  event  that  had  transpired  at  court. 
That,  as  yet,  he  entertained  no  guilty  design  of 
usurping  the  sovereign  authority,  wre  have  already 
expressed  our  conviction.  But,  on  the  other  hand, 
that  he  was  secretly  bent  on  obtaining  possession 
of  the  king's  person  and  the  protectorship  of  the 
realm,  and  by  these  means  crushing  the  powerful 
and  aspiring  Woodvilles,  seems  scarcely  to  admit 
of  a  doubt.  Accordingly,  no  sooner  had  he  con- 
certed his  plans,  than  he  proceeded  to  carry  them 
into  execution  with  that  astuteness  and  secresy, 

*  Croyl.  Chron.  Cont.  p.  485. 


136  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

which  henceforth  we  shall  find  characterizing  all 
the  actions  of  this  extraordinary  man.  Every  step 
which  he  took  was  calculated  to  remove  suspicion 
from  himself,  and  to  acquire  for  him  the  confidence 
of  others.  To  the  queen  he  addressed  a  letter  of 
condolence,  consoling  her  with  the  assurance  of  his 
speedy  arrival  in  London,  and  promising  ' '  all  duty, 
fealty,  and  due  obedience  to  his  king  and  lord, 
Edward  V."*  He  even  went  so  far  as  to  write 
' ;  lovingly ' '  to  her  detested  kindred. f  To  the  world 
he  gave  out,  that  his  absence  from  his  government 
was  only  temporary,  and  had  no  other  object  than 
to  enable  him  to  do  homage  to  his  young  nephew 
at  his  coronation.  When  at  length  it  suited  him  to 
take  his  departure  from  the  north,  he  was  attended 
only  by  a  small  though  chosen  cavalcade,  consist- 
ing of  six  hundred  knights  and  esquires.  During 
his  progress  towards  the  south,  he  manifested,  in 
the  most  amiable  manner,  his  loyalty  to  the  living 
and  his  reverence  for  the  dead.  At  the  time,  prob- 
ably, he  was  sincere  in  both.  The  gentlemen  of 
Yorkshire  were  summoned  to  swear  allegiance  to 
his  nephew; — ''himself,"  we  are  told,  "being  the 
first  to  take  that  oath,  which  soon  after  he  was  the 
first  to  violate.'1:}:  In  the  large  towns  through 

*  Croyl.  Chron.  Cont.  p.  486. 

f  Sir  T.  More's  Richard  III.  p.  23. 

t  Polydore  Virgil,  lib.  xxv.  p.  685,  and  Camd.  Soc.  Trans,  p.  173; 
Croyl.  Chron.  Cont.  p.  486. 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  137 

which  he  passed,  he  caused  requiems  to  be  sung  for 
the  repose  of  the  soul  of  the  late  king;  and,  at 
York  especially,  "performed  a  solemn  funeral 
service,  the  same  being  accompanied  with  plenteous 
tears."*  Every  appearance  of  military  display 
seems  to  have  been  sedulously  avoided.  His  reti- 
nue of  knights  and  esquires  were  arrayed  in  the 
garb  of  mourning.  He  himself  wore  that  air  01 
humility  and  grief,  which  was  only  too  well  calcu- 
lated to  deceive  mankind. 

In  the  mean  time,  after  having  waited  at  Ludlow 
to  celebrate  St.  George's  day  with  due  solemnity, 
the  young  king  set  out,  accompanied  by  his  uncle, 
Earl  Rivers,  and  his  half-brother,  Sir  Richard  Grey. 
Surrounded  by  those  nearest  allied  to  him  in  blood, 
and  by  faces  endeared  to  him  since  infancy,  a 
splendid  future,  to  all  appearance,  lay  before  him. 
As  he  rode  on  to  take  possession  of  the  throne  of 
the  Plantagenets,  little  could  he  have  anticipated 
the  bitter  reverse  which  was  to  consign  him  to  the 
gloom  of  the  dungeon  and  to  the  grasp  of  the 
assassin!  But  already  the  black  clouds  were 
gathering  over  his  head.  The  royal  cavalcade  had 
proceeded  as  far  as  Northampton,  when  information 
reached  Rivers  and  Grey  that  the  Duke  of  Glouces- 
ter was  approaching  with  his  retinue.  Rivers  took 
the  precaution  of  sending  forward  the  young  king- 
to  Stony  Stratford,  a  town  thirteen  miles  nearer  to 

*  Croyl.  Chron.  Cont.  p.  486 ;  Sir  T.  More's  Richard  III.  p.  134. 


138  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

the  metropolis,  while  he  himself  remained  behind 
with  Grey  at  Northampton,  with  the  ostensible 
object  of  paying  their  respects  to  Richard  as  first 
prince  of  the  blood,  and  submitting  to  his  "will 
and  discretion"  the  ceremonials  which  they  pro- 
posed to  adopt  on  the  occasion  of  the  king's  entry 
into  his  capital. 

Disappointed  as  Gloucester  must  have  been  at 
not  meeting  with  his  nephew,  he  nevertheless  re- 
ceived Rivers  and  Grey  with  the  greatest  courtesy 
and  apparent  kindness.  He  invited  them  to  sup  at 
his  table,  and  the  evening,  we  are  told,  passed  "in 
very  pleasant  conversation."*  While  they  were 
thus  agreeably  employed,  an  addition  was  unex- 
pectedly made  to  the  party  by  the  arrival  of  a 
fourth  person,  Henry  Duke  of  Buckingham,  who, 
though  he  had  married  a  sister  of  the  queen,  of  all 
men  most  detested  the  Woodvilles.  The  duke 
reached  Northampton  at  the  head  of  three  hundred 
horsemen,  thus  swelling  the  military  train  of  Rich- 
ard to  a  rather  formidable  number.  The  news 
which  he  brought  to  Gloucester  from  court  was 
of  the  most  serious  importance.  The  queen  and 
her  kindred  had  thrown  off  the  mask ;  her  brother, 
the  Marquis  of  Dorset,  had  seized  the  king's 
treasure,  and,  moreover,  as  admiral  of  England, 
had  given  orders  for  the  equipment  of  a  naval 
force.  The  news  was  in  all  probability  far  from 

*  Croyl.  Chron.  Cont.  p.  486. 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  139 

being  unpalatable  to  Richard.  It  was  clear  that 
the  Woodvilles  must  henceforth  stand  convicted  of 
having  been  the  first  to  break  the  laws,  thus  giving 
him  an  advantage  of  which  he  instantly  perceived 
the  importance.  Indeed,  but  for  this  imprudent 
conduct  on  the  part  of  the  Woodvilles,  he  would 
have  found  it  difficult  to  justify  to  the  world  the 
act  of  violence  which,  on  that  memorable  night,  he 
projected  with  Buckingham. 

But  whatever  reflections  the  tidings  brought  by 
Buckingham  may  have  given  rise  to  in  the  mind  of 
Gloucester,  the  remainder  of  the  evening  passed 
away  in  the  greatest  harmony.  The  fact  is  some- 
what remarkable,  that,  of  the  four  men  who  on  that 
evening  pledged  each  other  in  the  wine-cup  at 
Northampton,  and  endeavoured  to  cajole  one  an- 
other with  professions  of  friendship,  one  and  all 
were  nearly  allied  to  the  reigning  monarch.  Glou- 
cester and  Rivers  were  his  uncles;  Buckingham 
was  his  uncle  by  marriage ;  Sir  Richard  Grey,  as 
we  have  said,  was  his  half-brother.  Within  little 
more  than  two  years,  all  four  perished  by  a  violent 
death,  either  on  the  scaffold  or  on  the  field  of 
battle. 

But  to  return  to  our  narrative.  Rivers  and  Grey 
had  no  sooner  retired  to  rest,  than  Gloucester  and 
Buckingham  shut  themselves  up  in  a  private  apart- 
ment, where  they  passed  the  greater  part  of  the 
night  in  secret  consultation.  The  recent  acts  of 


140  KING    RICHAED   THE   THIRD. 

the  Woodvilles, — the  anxiety  which  they  had  be- 
trayed to  escort  the  young  king  to  London  at  the 
head  of  a  powerful  military  force, — the  seizure. of 
the  royal  treasure, — and,  lastly,  the  conduct  of 
Rivers  in  hurrying  on  the  king  to  Stony  Stratford, 
left  not  a  doubt  of  the  nature  of  their  ambitious 
designs.  Not  a  moment  was  to  be  lost  in  counter- 
acting them.  The  bold  measure  of  seizing  the 
person  of  the  king  was  finally  resolved  upon. 
Before  day  dawned  the  conspirators  had  decided 
on  their  plan  of  operation :  their  orders  were 
promptly  given,  and  as  promptly  obeyed.  To  pre- 
vent all  communication  between  Rivers  and  the 
king  was  of  course  their  first  object.  Accordingly, 
horsemen  were  sent  out  to  patrol  the  roads  between 
Northampton  and  Stony  Stratford ;  the  keys  of  the 
hostelry  were  brought  to  Gloucester ;  not  a  servant 
was  allowed  to  quit  the  place.* 

The  consternation  of  Rivers  and  Grey,  on  discov- 
ering the  fatal  snare  into  which  they  had  fallen, 
may  be  readily  imagined.  They  did  their  best, 
however,  to  conceal  their  emotion,  as  together,  and 
apparently  in  perfect  amity,  the  four  lords  set  off 
on  horseback  for  Stony  Stratford.  It  was  not  till 
that  town  appeared  in  sight  that  Gloucester  threw 
off  the  mask.  Suddenly  Rivers  and  Grey  were 
arrested  by  his  orders  and  hurried  off,  under  the 
charge  of  an  escort,  towards  the  north.  Glouces- 

*  Sir  T.  More's  Richard  III.  p.  24. 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  141 

ter  and  Buckingham  then  rushed  forward  to  the 
king's  quarters.  With  the  utmost  promptitude, 
the  king's  chamberlain,  Sir  Thomas  Vaughan,  his 
preceptor,  Dr.  Alcock,  Bishop  of  Worcester,  and 
others  of  his  trusted  and  confidential  servants,  were 
arrested  and  hurried  into  confinement.  Almost 
before  the  young  king  had  time  to  shed  a  tear  for 
the  misfortune  which  had  befallen  his  nearest  rela- 
tives and  friends,  Gloucester  and  Buckingham, 
with  e'very  outward  mark  of  homage  and  affec- 
tion, were  kneeling  at  his  feet.  The  separation 
from  those  he  loved  seems  to  have  been  bitterly 
felt  by  him.  "  At  this  dealing."  says  Sir  Thomas 
More,  "he  wept,  and  was  nothing  content;  but 
it  booted  not."* 

In  due  time,  attended  respectfully  by  the  two 
dukes,  the  young  king  made  his  public  entry  into 
London.  His  servants  and  retinue  were  clad  in 
deep  mourning.  Edward  alone  appeared  conspicu- 
ous in  the  cavalcade,  habited  in  royal  robes  of 
purple  velvet.  By  his  side  rode  his  uncle  Glou- 
cester, bareheaded.  Near  Hornsey  they  were  met 
by  the  lord-mayor  and  aldermen  in  their  scarlet 
robes,  followed  by  five  hundred  citizens  on  horse- 
back, in  purple-coloured  gowns.  As  the  gallant 
procession  wended  its  way  through  the  streets  of 
London,  Gloucester  repeatedly,  and  with  great 
apparent  enthusiasm,  pointed  out  his  royal  nephew 

*  Sir  T.  More's  Richard  III.  p.  27. 


142  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

to  the  populace.  "Behold,"  he  said,  "your 
prince  and  sovereign  lord!"*  The  love  and  rev- 
erence which  he  displayed  towards  his  nephew 
excited  universal  admiration.  His  recent  violent 
seizure  of  the  hateful  Woodvilles  had  lost  him 
none  of  his  popularity.  ' '  He  was  on  all  hands, ' ' 
says  Sir  Thomas  More,  "accounted  the  best,  as  he 
was  the  first,  subject  in  the  kingdom,  "f  Followed 
by  the  blessings  and  acclamations  of  his  subjects, 
the  young  king  was  conducted  in  the  first  instance 
to  the  palace  of  the  Bishop  of  London,  near  St. 
Paul's  Cathedral,  where  he  received  the  homage 
and  congratulations  of  his  nobles.  Some  days 
afterwards  he  was  escorted  to  the  royal  apartments 
in  the  Tower. 

The  arrest  of  Rivers  and  Grey  produced  the  ef- 
fect desired  by  Richard.  The  queen  and  her  kin- 
dred gave  up  the  contest  in  despair;  Elizabeth, 
with  her  second  son  and  her  fair  daughters,  flew 
affrighted  to  the  sanctuary  at  Westminster,  where 
she  was  subsequently  joined  by  her  son,  the  Mar- 
quis of  Dorset.  When,  shortly  before  daybreak, 
the  Lord  Chancellor  Rotheram,  Archbishop  of 
York,  repaired  to  her  with  the  great  seal,  he  wit- 
nessed, we  are  told,  a  most  painful  scene  of  ' '  heavi- 
ness, rumble,  haste,  and  business."  The  royal  ser- 
vants were  hurrying  into  the  sanctuary,  bearing 

*  Fabyan,  p.  668 ;  Hall,  p.  351. 

f  Sir  T.  More's  Life  of  Edward  V.  in  Rennet,  vol.  i.  p.  486. 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  143 

chests,  household-stuffs,  and  other  valuable  goods.* 
The  queen  herself  ' '  sat  alow  on  the  rushes,  all 
desolate  and  dismayed." 

When  at  length  the  day  dawned,  and  the  arch- 
bishop looked  forth  upon  the  Thames,  he  beheld  the 
river  covered  with  boats,  full  of  the  Duke  of  Glou- 
cester's servants,  "watching  that  no  one  should  go 
to  sanctuary. "  f  Some  intention  there  seems  to  have 
been,  on  the  part  of  the  queen's  friends,  of  oppos- 
ing force  to  force.:}:  The  vigilance  of  Hastings, 
however,  and  the  great  interest  which  he  had  con- 
trived to  establish  with  the  citizens  of  London,  ef- 
fectually prevented  any  commotion. 

Thus,  within  the  space  of  a  few  days,  had  Rich- 
ard of  Gloucester  raised  himself  to  be  the  foremost 
person  in  the  kingdom,  the  "  observed  of  all  ob- 
servers. ' '  Society  blessed  him  for  having  prevented 
the  horrors  of  civil  war ;  the  commonalty  admired 
him  for  the  extraordinary  zeal  he  professed  for  the 
interests  of  his  nephew ;  while  the  ancient  nobility, 
delighted  at  the  fatal  blow  which  he  had  struck  at 
the  power  of  the  Woodvilles,  nocked  to  him  with 
offers  of  service  and  enthusiastic  expressions  of 
applause.  "  He  was  suddenly  fallen  into  so  great 
trust,"  writes  Sir  Thomas  More,  "that,  at  the 
council  next  assembled,  he  was  made  the  only  man 

*  Sir  T.  More's  Life  of  Edward  V.  in  Kennet,  vol.  i.  p.  485. 
f  Sir  T.  More's  Richard  III.  pp.  30, 31 ;  Hall,  p.  350. 
t  Croyl.  Chron.  Cont.  p.  487. 


144  KING    RICHAKD    THE   THIRD. 

chosen,  and  thought  most  meet  to  be  protector  of 
the  king  and  his  realm."*  So  guarded  had  been 
Richard's  conduct,  so  warily  and  wisely  had  he 
pursued  his  object,  that  his  secret  designs,  what- 
ever they  may  have  been,  continued  to  be  unsus- 
pected even  by  the  most  suspicious.  The  levees 
which  he  held  at  his  princely  mansion,  Crosby 
Place,  in  Bishopsgate  Street,  were  crowded  by  the 
noblest  and  wisest  of  the  land.  The  young  king 
was  left  "in  a  manner  desolate. "f  The  spiritual 
lords  seem  to  have  vied  with  the  temporal  lords  in 
doing  honour  to  Richard.  The  coveted  protector- 
ship may  almost  be  said  to  have  been  forced  upon 
him.  Following  a  precedent  in  the  case  of  Humph- 
rey Duke  of  Gloucester,  who  had  been  appointed 
protector  during  the  minority  of  Henry  VI.,  the 
council  of  state,  "  with  the  consent  and  good  will 
of  all  the  lords,  "J  invested  Richard  with  the  dig- 
nity. No  single  individual  seems  to  have  objected 
to  the  appointment;  the  popular  feeling  in  his 
favour  appears  to  have  been  universal ;  so  much  so 
that  the  concurrence  of  parliament  seems  to  have 
been  considered  not  only  as  unessential,  but,  for  the 
time,  to  have  been  absolutely  disregarded.  Even 
Hastings,  affectionately  as  he  watched  over  the  in- 
terests of  the  young  king,  and  deeply  read  as  he 

*  Sir  T.  More's  Richard  III.  p.  35. 

t  Ibid.  p.  66. 

J  Croyl.  Chron.  Cont.  p.  488. 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  145 

was  in  human  nature,  could  discover  no  grounds 
except  for  congratulation  in  the  elevation  of  Rich- 
ard of  Gloucester.*  Moreover,  the  active  prepara- 
tions which  were  apparently  being  made  for  his 
nephew's  coronation  had  the  effect  of  averting  sus- 
picion, and  aiding  to  increase  his  popularity  with 
the  vulgar.  Even  at  this  late  period,  it  seems  ques- 
tionable whether  Richard  entertained  any  serious 
thoughts  of  deposing  his  brother's  son,  much  less 
of  procuring  his  assassination. 

On  the  19th  of  May  we  find  the  young  king  ad- 
dressing the  assembled  peers  in  parliament.  The 
22nd  of  June,  the  feast  of  the  Nativity  of  St.  John 
the  Baptist,  was  the  day  fixed  upon  for  the  solemn- 
ization of  the  ceremony.  The  coronation-robes 
were  prepared.  The  barons  of  England,  who  had 
been  summoned  from  all  parts  of  the  realm,  ' '  came 
thick"  to  swear  allegiance  to  their  sovereign. 
The  ' '  pageants  and  subtleties  were  in  making  day 
and  night. ' '  The  viands  for  the  great  banquet  in 
Westminster  had  been  actually  purchased  from 
the  purvey ors.f 

As  the  day,  which  had  been  fixed  upon  for  the 
coronation,  drew  near,  doubtless  many  perplexing 
thoughts  passed  through  the  mind  of  the  protector. 
By  the  law  of  the  land,  the  protectorship  would 

*  Croyl.  Chron.  Cont.  p.  489. 

tSir  T.  More's  Richard  III.  pp.  69,  70;  Harl.  MS.  (No.  433,  Art. 
1651),  quoted  in  Halsted's  Rich.  III.  vol.  ii.  p.  68. 


146  KIJSTG   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

cease  so  soon  as  that  ceremony  had  been  performed ; 
young  Edward  would  then,  as  anointed  king,  as- 
sume, the  sovereign  power.  No  option  therefore 
remained  to  Gloucester,  but  either  to  descend  with 
a  good  grace  into  his  former  station  as  a  subject,  or 
else  to  stifle  every  compunction  of  conscience,  and 
seize  the  crown  which  he  had  solemnly  sworn  to 
defend  for  another. 

To  a  man  of  Richard's  aspiring  nature  and 
boundless  ambition,  the  prospect  of  exchanging 
almost  sovereign  power  for  the  subordinate  rank 
and  honours  of  a  mere  prince  of  the  blood,  must 
have  appeared  intolerable.  Moreover,  putting  the 
question  of  ambition  altogether  aside,  his  descent 
from  power  must  necessarily  entail  imminent  per- 
sonal danger  both  on  himself  and  his  friends.  Not 
only  had  he  offended  the  Woodvilles  beyond  all 
hope  of  reconciliation,  but  his  recent  seizure  of 
Edward's  person  at  Stony  Stratford,  and  the  arrest 
and  imprisonment  of  the  king's  dearest  friends  and 
nearest  relatives,  were  acts  which  no  sovereign 
was  likely  to  forget  or  forgive.  Let  the  crown 
once  descend  upon  the  brow  of  young  Edward,  and 
who  could  doubt  but  that  the  queen-mother  and 
her  kindred  would  bring  all  their  influence  into 
play  to  prejudice  him  against  their  arch-enemy, 
and  that  Richard's  ruin,  and  perhaps  his  death  on 
the  scaffold,  would  be  the  result? 

It  may  be  argued  that  it  was  the  interest,  as  well 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  147 

as  the  duty  of  the  protector,  to  establish  his 
nephew  firmly  on  the  throne;  to  release  Lord 
Rivers  and  Sir  Richard  Grey  from  imprisonment ; 
to  identify  himself  with  the  fortunes  of  the  queen 
and  her  powerful  kindred;  and  to  render  himself 
as  trusted  and  beloved  by  Edward  V.  as  he  had 
formerly  been  by  Edward  IV.  But  such  a  step 
w^ould  have  completely  stultified  the  revolution 
which  he  had  so  recently  effected.  Moreover,  it 
would  have  been  the  grossest  act  of  treachery 
towards  the  nobles  who  had  assisted  him  in  de- 
stroying the  power  of  the  Woodvilles,  and  in  all 
probability  would  have  hurried  Buckingham,  Hast- 
ings, and  others  to  the  block.  These  misfortunes, 
indeed,  might  possibly  have  been  prevented  by  an 
appeal  to  arms;  but  no  greater  disaster  could 
have  befallen  England  at  this  period  than  a  renewal 
of  the  civil  war,  a  catastrophe  which  the  protector 
seems  to  have  been  resolved  at  all  hazards  to  pre- 
vent. 

But  whatever  may  have  been  the  motives  which 
finally  determined  Richard  of  Gloucester  to  usurp 
the  throne,  no  one  can  question  the  consummate 
cunning  and  ability  with  which  he  carried  his  plans 
into  execution. 

The  persons,  whose  opposition  he  had  the  great- 
est reason  to  dread,  were  Buckingham  and  Hastings 
on  the  part  of  the  old  feudal  aristocracy,  and  Riv- 
ers and  Grey  on  the  side  of  the  queen  and  her  kin- 


148  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

dred.  Buckingham,  a  man  of  great  ambition  and 
avarice,  the  protector  seems  to  have  found  little 
difficulty  in  corrupting.  The  duke,  moreover,  was 
too  much  detested  by  the  Woodvilles,  and  had  too 
much  reason  to  dread  their  vengeance,  not  to  enter 
heartily  into  any  scheme  which  promised  to  strip 
them  of  power.  Hastings,  as  we  shall  presently 
discover,  proved  incorruptible.  As  for  Rivers  and 
Grey,  they  were  already  in  the  toils  of  the  pro- 
tector, and  he  was  resolved  that  they  should  never 
escape  from  them.  As  it  was  never  the  policy  of 
the  protector  to  shed  blood  unnecessarily,  the  proba- 
bility seems  to  be  that  it  was  the  discovery  of  plots 
for  the  release  of  these  iinhappy  noblemen,  and 
also,  as  Richard  himself  confidently  asserted,  the 
existence  of  a  deep-laid  conspiracy  against  his 
authority,  which  subsequently  induced  him  to  sac- 
rifice their  lives  in  order  to  secure  his  own. 

Hastings,  as  we  have  seen,  was  resolved  at  all 
hazards  to  stand  by  the  son  of  his  dead  master.  He 
was,  at  this  time,  apparently  reconciled  to  the 
queen  and  the  Woodvilles,  and  deeply  implicated 
in  their  conspiracies  against  the  protector.  From 
his  boyhood  Richard  had  been  accustomed  to  regard 
Hastings  with  admiration,  as  the  most  accomplished 
courtier  and  soldier  of  his  age.  He  is  even  said  to 
have  loved  him  more  than  any  other  living  man ; 
and  certainly,  of  all  living  men,  he  would  seem  to 
have  been  the  last  whom  Richard  would  wantonly 


KING    RICHARD    THE   THIRD.  149 

have  consigned  to  the  scaffold.  He  resolved,  there- 
fore, in  the  first  instance,  to  sound  Hastings,  and, 
if  possible,  to  induce  him  to  embrace  his  views. 
The  person  whom  he  employed  on  this  delicate  ser- 
vice was  one  Catesby,  an  able  and  designing  lawyer, 
whom  Hastings  had  admitted  to  his  confidence. 
Catesby 's  propositions,  carefully  as  they  were 
worded,  could  not  fail  to  startle  Hastings.  The 
times,  Catesby  said,  were  pregnant  with  danger, 
both  to  the  throne  and  to  the  commonwealth;  it 
was  of  vital  importance  that  an  ' '  experienced  per- 
son and  brave  commander ' '  should  take  the  helm 
of  government ;  and  who  so  fitted  to  be  a  pilot  in 
stormy  times,  both  from  his  position  as  first  prince 
of  the  blood,  and  from  his  ability  and  firmness,  as 
the  Duke  of  Gloucester?  Not,  argued  Catesby, 
that  the  protector  and  his  friends  had  any  intention 
of  prejudicing  the  interests  of  the  young  monarch, 
much  less  of  supplanting  him  on  the  throne.  The 
simple  proposition  was  that  the  protector  should 
wear  the  crown  till  the  young  king  had  attained  the 
age  of  twenty-five,  at  which  time,  it  was  presumed, 
he  would  be  capable  of  governing  the  realm  as  "an 
able  and  efficient  king."  The  veil  with  which 
Richard  sought  to  disguise  his  intended  usurpation, 
was  too  flimsy  to  conceal  his  real  purpose.  With 
a  disinterestedness,  which  reflects  the  highest  credit 
on  his  memory,  Hastings  not  only  refused  to  listen 
to  the  proposition,  but  replied  to  Catesby  in  such 


150  KING   RICHAED   THE   THIRD. 

"terrible  words,"  as  could  not  fail  to  give  deep 
offence  to  the  protector.*  Catesby  carried  back 
the  reply  to  his  employer,  and  from  that  moment, 
doubtless,  the  head  of  Hastings  was  doomed  to  fall 
upon  the  scaffold. 

*  Sir  T.  More's   Richard  III.  p.  69 ;  More's  Life  of  Edward  V.  in 
Kennet,  vol.  i.  p.  493. 


CHAPTER  IV. 

THE  USURPATION  OF  RICHARD  OF  GLOUCESTER. 

Friday,  the  13th  of  June  1483,  there  took 
place  that  memorable  council  in  the  Tower  of 
London,  which  the  pen  of  Sir  Thomas  More  has  so 
graphically  described,  and  which  the  genius  of 
Shakspeare  has  immortalized.  At  the  council -table 
sat,  among  other  lords,  the  Archbishop  of  York, 
Lord  Hastings,  Lord  Stanley,  and  Dr.  Morton, 
Bishop  of  Ely,  afterwards  cardinal  and  Archbishop 
of  Canterbury.  The  three  latter  had  been  the  per- 
sonal friends  of  the  late  king ;  all  three  were  de- 
voted to  the  interests  of  his  son. 

It  was  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning  when  the 
protector  entered  the  council-chamber  and  took  his 
seat  at  the  head  of  the  table.  He  had  played  the 
sluggard,  he  said  pleasantly ;  he  hoped  the  lords 
would  forgive  him  for  being  late.  His  countenance 
retained  its  usual  imperturbable  expression.  Not 
a  word  nor  gesture  of  uneasiness  escaped  him.  He 
even  appeared  to  be  in  the  highest  spirits  possible ; 
jesting  with  the  Bishop  of  Ely  on  the  excellence  of 
his  strawberries,  for  which  the  garden  of  his  epis- 


152  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

copal     residence,    Ely      House  in    Holborn,     was 
famous. 

"  My  lord  of  Ely,  when  I  was  last  in  Holborn, 
I  saw  good  strawberries  in  your  garden  there ; 
I  do  beseech  you  send  for  some  of  them." 

King  Richard  III  Act.  iii.  Sc.  4. 

The  bishop  accordingly  despatched  a  servant  for 
the  fruit.  In  the  mean  time,  having  excused  his 
absence  to  the  members  of  the  coiincil,  the  pro- 
tector retired  awhile  from  the  apartment,  desiring 
the  lords  to  proceed  with  their  deliberations. 
When,  in  about  an  hour,  he  returned,  his  manner 
and  appearance  had  undergone  a  complete  and 
painful  change.  On  his  countenance  rage,  hatred, 
and  vengeance  are  said  to  have  been  forcibly  and 
terribly  depicted.  A  brief  but  awful  pause  ensued, 
during  which  the  protector  sat  at  the  council-table, 
contracting  his  brows  and  biting  his  lips.  At 
length  he  started  up.  Closely  allied  as  he  was,  he 
said,  to  the  king,  and  intrusted^with  the  administra- 
tion of  government,  what  punishment  did  those 
persons  deserve  who  compassed  and  imagined  his 
destruction?  The  lords  of  the  council,  completely 
confounded,  remained  silent.  At  length,  Hastings, 
emboldened  perhaps  by  their  long  friendship,  and 
the  affection  which  the  protector  was  believed  to 
entertain  for  him,  ventured  to  reply  to  the  infuri- 
ated prince.  "  Surely,  my  lord,"  he  said,  "  they 
deserve  to  be  punished  as  heinous  traitors,  whoever 
they  be."  At  these  words  the  rage  of  the  pro- 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  153 

tector  seemed  to  increase.  "Those  traitors,"  he 
exclaimed,  boldly  accusing  the  queen,  ' '  are  the 
sorceress,  my  brother's  wife,  and  his  mistress,  Jane 
Shore :  see  how  by  their  sorcery  and  witchcraft 
they  have  miserably  destroyed  my  body !  ' :  And 
therewith,  writes  Sir  Thomas  More,  ' k  he  plucked 
up  his  doublet-sleeve  to  his  elbow  upon  his  left 
arm  ;  where  he  showed  a  werish  withered  arm  and 
small."*  The  lords  of  the  council  looked  at  each 
other  in  terror  and  amazement.  Again  Hastings  was 
the  first  to  attempt  to  pacify  him.  "  Certainly,  my 
lord,"  he  said,  "  if  they  have  indeed  done  any 
such  thing,  they  deserve  to  be-  both  severely  pun- 
ished. "  "  And  do  you  answer  me, "  thundered  the 
protector,  "with  ifs  and.  ands  f  I  tell  thee, 
traitor,  they  have  done  it,  and  thou  hast  joined 
with  them  in  this  villany ;  I  swear  by  St.  Paul  I 
will  not  dine  before  your  head  be  brought  to 
me!  "f 

At  this  instant  the  protector  struck  the  table  fu- 
riously with  his  clenched  hand,  on  which  the  guard, 
crying  '  •  Treason  !  treason ! ' '  rushed  violently  into 
the  apartment.  A  scene  of  indescribable  confusion 

*  This  is,  apparently,  another  of  those  imaginary  personal  deformi- 
ties which  vulgar  report  or  political  malignancy  formerly  delighted  to 
attribute  to  Richard  of  Gloucester.  If,  as  has  been  asserted,  his  left 
shoulder  was  somewhat  lower  than  the  right,  it  may  not  improbably 
have  given  rise  to  this  additional  calumny.  See  ante,  pp.  75 — 78. 

tSir.T.  More's  Richard  III.  pp.  70—73;  More's  Life  of  Edward 
V.  in  Kennet,  vol.  i.  pp.  493-4. 


154  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

followed.  Lord  Stanley,  the  Archbishop  of  York, 
the  Bishop  of  Ely,  and  other  lords  of  the  council, 
were  immediately  arrested  and  carried  off  to  differ- 
ent prison-rooms.  In  the  melee  Stanley  received  a 
violent  blow  on  the  head  from  a  pole-axe,  which 
sent  the  blood  streaming  down  his  ears.  But  it 
was  in  Hastings  that  all  the  rage  of  the  protector 
is  said  to  have  centred.  "  I  arrest  thee,  traitor," 
he  repeated,  "  and  by  St.  Paul  I  will  not  dine  till 
thy  head  be  off ! "  Hastings  accordingly  was 
seized  and  dragged  to  the  green  in  front  of  the 
Tower  chapel ;  a  priest  was  hurriedly  obtained  to 
receive  his  confession ;  a  log  of  wood,  provided  for 
the  repair  of  the  chapel,  served  as  a  block.  Thus 
perished  the  wise,  the  brilliant  and  fascinating 
Hastings  !  A  more  honourable  fate  awaited  his  re- 
mains. His  head  and  body  were  conveyed  to 
Windsor,  where,  in  the  royal  chapel  of  St.  George, 
they  were  placed  by  the  side  of  the  great  king 
whom  he  had  formerly  so  loyally  and  affectionately 
served,  and  the  rights  of  whose  son  he  had  died  in 
his  endeavours  to  defend.* 

*  Sir  T.  More's  Richard  III.  pp.  73,  74  ;  More's  Life  of  Edward 
V.  in  Kennet,  vol.  i.  p.  494.  It  appears  by  Hastings'  will,  dated  27th 
June  1481,  that  the  late  king,  Edward  IV.,  had  formerly  expressed  an 
affectionate  wish  that  Hastings  should  be  buried  near  him  at  Windsor. 
"  And  forasmuch  as  the  king,  of  his  abundant  grace,  for  the  true  ser- 
vice that  I  have  done,  and  at  the  least  intended  to  have  done  to  his 
grace,  hath  willed  and  offered  me  to  be  buried  in  the  church  or  chapel 
of  St.  George  at  Windsor,  in  a  place  by  his  grace  assigned,  in  which 
college  his  grace  is  disposed  to  be  buried,  I  therefore  bequeath  my 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  155 

In  the  mean  time,  the  queen-dowager,  much  to 
the  annoyance  of  the  protector,  had  persisted  in 
detaining  her  younger  son,  the  Duke  of  York,  in 
the  sanctuary  at  Westminster.  As  Richard  unques- 
tionably displayed  great  anxiety  to  withdraw  him 
from  thence,  the  detractors  of  the  protector  are  not 
to  be  blamed,  if,  from  this  circumstance,  they  draw 
a  not  unreasonable  inference  that  he  already  con- 
templated, not  only  the  dethronement  of  one 
brother,  but  the  murder  of  both.  But,  on  the  one 
hand,  the  charge,  thus  preferred,  rests  upon  mere 
assumption;  whereas,  on  the  other  hand,  Richard 
had  not  only  excellent  state  reasons  for  wishing  to 
withdraw  his  nephew  from  the  influence  of  his 
mother  and  her  kindred,  but  those  reasons  had 
been  solemnly  deliberated  at  the  council-table,  and 
pronounced  to  be  unanswerable.  The  public  had 
declared  the  Woodvilles  to  be  the  enemies  of  the 
State,  and  therefore  improper  parties  to  have  the 

simple  body  to  be  buried  in  the  said  chapel  and  college  in  the  said  place, 
&c." — Testamenta  Vetusta,  vol.  i.  pp.  368-9.  "  I  bequeath  my  body," 
runs  the  last  will  of  Queen  Elizabeth  Woodville,  "  to  be  buried  with  the 
body  of  my  lord,  at  Windsor,  according  to  the  will  of  my  said  lord  and 
mine,  without  pompous  interring  or  costly  expenses." — Ibid.  vol.  i.  p. 
25.  There  is  something  not  only  touchingly  striking,  but  tending  to 
redeem  the  character  of  King  Edward  in  our  eyes,  that  the  friend  who 
was  most  intimately  acquainted  with  his  failings,  and  the  wife  who  had 
forgiven  him  so  many  infidelities,  should  have  recorded  their  solemn 
wish  that,  in  accordance  with  the  express  desire  of  the  late  king,  their 
dust  might  mingle  with  his.  A  copy  of  King  Edward's  own  will,  the 
existence  of  which  was  formerly  questioned,  will  be  found  in  the  Ex- 
cerpta  Historica,  p.  366. 


156  KING   KICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

charge  of  the  person  and  education  of  the  heir  pre- 
sumptive to  the  throne.  It  was  argued  at  the  coun- 
cil-table, and  with  sober  reason,  that  the  young 
king  had  not  only  a  kingly,  but  a  natural  right,  to 
insist  on  enjoying  the  companionship  of  his  own 
brother, — that  the  queen's  detention  of  the  Duke 
of  York  in  sanctuary  was  a  tacit  libel  on  the  gov- 
ernment of  the  protector, — that  it  was  calculated  to 
excite  a  popular  apprehension  that  the  king's  life 
was  in  danger, — that  it  tended  to  occasion  scandal 
at  foreign  courts, — that,  should  the  young  king 
happen  to  die,  his  successor  on  the  throne  would  be 
left  in  most  improper  hands, — and  lastly,  it  was 
insisted  how  great  would  be  the  increase  of  scandal, 
both  at  home  and  abroad,  should  the  king  walk  at 
his  coronation  unsupported  by  the  presence  of  his 
only  brother.* 

Richard,  it  is  said,  but  for  the  opposition  which 
he  encountered  from  the  Archbishops  of  Canterbury 
and  York,  would  have  taken  his  nephew  out  of 
sanctuary  by  force.  Five  hundred  years,  they  said, 
had  passed,  since  St.  Peter,  attended  by  multitudes 
of  angels,  had  descended  from  heaven  in  the  night, 
and  had  consecrated  the  ground  on  which  were 
built  the  church  and  sanctuary  of  Westminster.! 

*  More's  Edward  V.  in  Kennet,  vol.  i.  pp.  486-7. 

t  It  would  appear  that  a  cope,  said  to  have  been  worn  by  St.  Peter  on 
the  occasion,  was  at  this  time  preserved  in  Westminster  Abbey,  as  a 
"  proof"  of  the  saint's  visitation.  More's  Hist,  of  Richard  III.  p.  40. 


KING   RICHARD    THE   THIRD.  157 

Since  then,  they  added,  no  king  of  England  had 
dared  to  violate  that  sanctuary,  and  such  an  act  of 
desecration  would  doubtless  draw  down  the  just 
vengeance  of  heaven  on  the  whole  kingdom.  Event- 
ually it  was  decided,  that  Cardinal  Bourchier, 
Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  should  proceed  with 
some  of  the  temporal  peers  to  the  sanctuary,  and 
endeavour  to  reason  the  queen  into  a  compliance  with 
the  wishes  of  the  council.  For  a  considerable  time 
the  unhappy  mother  remained  obdurate.  Being 
assured,  however,  that  force  would  be  resorted  to 
if  necessary,  she  was  at  length  induced  to  bring 
forth  the  royal  boy  and  to  present  him  to  the  mem- 
bers of  the  council.  "My  lord,"  she  said  to  the 
archbishop,  ' '  and  all  my  lords  now  present,  I  will 
not  be  so  suspicious  as  to  mistrust  your  truths."* 
Nevertheless,  at  the  moment  of  parting,  a  presenti- 
ment of  the  dark  fate  which  awaited  her  beloved 
child  appears  to  have  flashed  across  her  mind. 
"Farewell,"  she  said,  "mine  own  sweet  son;  God 
send  you  good  keeping ;  let  me  kiss  you  once  ere 
yet  you  go,  for  God  knoweth  when  we  shall  kiss 
together  again."  And  therewith  she  kissed  him, 
and  blessed  him,  turned  her  back  and  wept,  and 
went  her  way,  leaving  the  child  weeping  as  fast.f 
The  boy,  it  appears,  was  delivered  by  the  queen  to 
the  archbishop,  the  lord-chancellor,  and  "many 

*  Sir  T.  More's  Edward  V.  in  Rennet,  vol.  i.  p.  491. 
f  More's  Hist,  of  Richard  III.  p.  62. 


158  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

other  lords  temporal,"  by  whom  he  was  conducted 
to  the  centre  of  Westminster  Hall,  where  he  was 
received  by  the  Duke  of  Buckingham.  At  the 
door  of  the  Star  Chamber  he  was  met  by  the  pro- 
tector, who,  running  towards  him  with  open  arms, 
kissed  him  with  great  apparent  affection.  ' '  Now 
welcome,"  he  said,  "my  lord,  with  all  my  heart." 
And  thereupon,  writes  Sir  Thomas  More,  "forth- 
with they  brought  him  to  the  king,  his  brother, 
into  the  bishop's  palace  at  St.  Paul's,  and  from 
thence,  through  the  city,  honourably  into  the 
Tower,  out  of  which,  after  that  day,  they  never 
came  abroad."* 

The  protector,  by  this  time,  held  in  durance  all 
the  most  influential  persons  from  whom  he  had 
reason  to  anticipate  opposition  in  carrying  out  his 
ambitious  views.  Supposing  him,  indeed,  to  have 
been  bent  on  usurping  the  sovereign  authority,  his 
nephews  continued  to  be  formidable  obstacles  in  his 
way,  but  they  were  entirely  in  his  power.  In  order 
to  found  a  dynasty,  it  was  of  course  expedient  to 
extirpate  the  male  heirs  of  his  late  brother,  Edward 
IV.  But,  even  though  Richard  were  the  blood- 
thirsty and  unscrupulous  monster  which  history 
usually  represents  him  to  have  been,  it  was  mani- 
festly not  his  policy,  at  this  time,  to  call  to  his  aid 

*  Sir  T.  More's  Kich.  III.  p.  62 ;  More's  Edward  V.  in  Kennet,  vol. 
i.  p.  491.  Letter,  dated  London,  21st  June  1483,  addressed  to  Sir 
William  Stoner,  knight,  by  Simon  Stallworthe.  Excerpta  Historica, 
pp.  12,  et  seq.  See  post,  p.  126,  note. 


KING   EICHAED    THE   TRIED.  159 

the  services  of  the  midnight  assassin.  Whatever 
may  have  been  his  scruples  in  other  respects,  his 
authority  as  yet  rested  on  too  insecure  a  basis  to 
permit  his  name  to  be  associated  with  the  crime  of 
murder.  Accordingly,  he  seems  to  have  eagerly 
embraced  an  expedient,  which,  at  the  same  time 
that  it  relieved  him  from  the  commission  of  a  fear- 
ful crime,  promised  to  lend  a  colour  of  justice  to  his 
usurpation. 

At  the  time  when  Edward  IV.  breathed  his  last, 
there  were  interposed,  between  the  Duke  of  Glou- 
cester and  the  succession,  the  two  sons  and  the  five 
daughters  of  the  late  king,  and  the  son  and  daugh- 
ter of  the  late  Duke  of  Clarence.  But,  in  those 
turbulent  times,  when  the  interests  of  society  ren- 
dered absolutely  necessary  the  rule  of  an  energetic 
monarch  in  order  to  avert  the  horrors  of  anarchy, 
there  was  perhaps  not  a  baron  in  England  so 
romantic  as  to  have  raised  his  banner  for  the  pur- 
pose of  exalting  a  female  to  the  throne.  A  people, 
who,  little  more  than  eighty  years  previously,  had 
tacitly  declared  the  monarchy  of  England  to  be  an 
elective  one,  by  preferring  Henry  of  Lancaster  to 
their  legitimate  sovereign,  Richard  II.,  could 
scarcely  be  expected  to  uphold,  in  times  of  almost 
unprecedented  difficulty,  the  claims  of  a  girl  and  a 
minor.  Virtually,  therefore,  the  only  individuals 
who  stood  in  the  way  of  Richard  were  the  two 
sons  of  his  brother  Edward,  and  the  young  Earl  of 


160  KI1STG   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

Warwick,  the  son  of  his  brother  Clarence.  But 
Warwick  had  already  been  set  aside  by  the  act 
of  parliament  which  had  included  him  in  the  at- 
tainder of  his  father,  and  accordingly,  as  far  as  the 
succession  in  the  male  line  was  in  question,  Edward 
V.  and  his  brother  were  the  only  obstacles  to  the 
protector,  in  the  ambitious  course  which  he  w^as 
now  evidently  pursuing. 

It  was  in  this,  his  hour  of  difficulty  and  need, 
that  there  arrayed  himself  on  the  side  of  the  pro- 
tector, a  man  whose  high  position  in  the  church, 
whose  long  experience  in  state  affairs,  and  whose 
profound  knowledge  of  the  law,  rendered  him  a 
most  valuable  auxiliary.  This  person  was  Robert 
Stillington,  Bishop  of  Bath  and  Wells,  whose 
industry  and  eminent  talents  had,  in  the  late  reign, 
raised  him  from  the  plebeian  ranks  to  the  episcopal 
bench,  and  to  the  lord-chancellorship  of  England. 
He  had  quitted  the  university  writh  a  high  reputa- 
tion for  learning.  The  applause  with  which  he 
took  his  degree  of  Doctor  of  Laws  has  been 
especially  recorded.  To  King  Edward  IV.  he  had 
lain  under  the  deepest  obligations.  By  that  mon- 
arch he  had  been  successively  advanced  to  the 
archdeaconry  of  Taunton,  the  bishopric  of  Bath 
and  Wells,  the  keepership  of  the  Privy  Seal,  and 
the  lord -chancellorship.  The  latter  appointment 
he  held  from  the  8th  of  June  1467,  to  the  8th  of 
June  1473,  when  ill  health  is  said  to  have  com- 


KINO    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  161 

pelled  him  to  resign  the  seals.  That,  while  out 
of  office,  he  was  not  also  out  of  favour,  may  be 
presumed  by  King  Edward  selecting  him,  two 
years  afterwards,  to  preside  over  a  secret  and  not 
very  dignified  mission  to  the  court  of  Brittany. 
When,  in  pursuance  of  his  ruthless  purpose  of  ex- 
tirpating the  house  of  Lancaster,  Edward  sought  to 
entrap  the  young  Earl  of  Richmond,  afterwards 
Henry  VII.,  into  his  power,  Bishop  Stillington  was 
chosen  as  the  person  best  qualified  to  induce  the 
Duke  of  Brittany,  either  by  cajolery  or  bribes,  to 
deliver  up  the  exile  to  his  arch-enemy.  Whether 
the  ill-success,  w^hich  the  ex-chancellor  encountered 
on  this  occasion,  prejudiced  him  in  the  eyes  of  his 
sovereign,  or  whether,  as  seems  not  impossible,  he 
had  implicated  himself  in  the  treason  of  Warwick 
and  Clarence,  certain  it  is  that  he  was  subjected  to 
persecution  and  disgrace.  He  was  charged  with 
having  broken  his  oath  of  allegiance;*  and, 
although  the  fact  exists  on  official  record  that  a 
solemn  tribunal,  composed  of  the  lords  spiritual 
and  temporal,  eventually  acquitted  him  of  the 
charge,  he  is  said  to  have  not  only  suffered  im- 
prisonment, but  to  have  been  forced  to  pay  a  con- 
siderable sum  as  the  price  of  his  release. f  Accord- 
ing to  De  Commines,  a  well-informed  contemporary, 

*  "Post  et  contra  juramentum  fidelitatis  sues." — Rymer's  Fcedera,  vol. 
xii.  p.  66. 

f  De  Commines,  tome  ii.  p.  156. 


162  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

the  treatment  which  the  bishop  met  with  on  this 
occasion  so  rankled  in  his  mind,  that,  years  after- 
wards, he  visited  on  the  innocent  children  of  his 
royal  benefactor,  the  injustice  which  he  imagined 
he  had  encountered  at  the  hands  of  their  parent.* 

From  the  time  of  Stillingtori's  disgrace,  till 
Richard  was  in  the  midst  of  his  designs  on  the 
protectorship,  if  not  on  the  throne,  we  lose  sight 
of  the  discontented  prelate.  Then  it  was,  how- 
ever, that  he  not  only  reappeared  on  the  stage  as 
the  zealous  supporter  of  the  protector,  but  divulged, 
or  pretended  to  divulge,  a  secret  of  such  vital  im- 
portance, that,  if  its  truth  could  be  established,  it 
would  certainly  go  far  to  justify  Richard  in  his 
designs  on  the  throne.  According  to  the  account 
promulgated  at  the  time,  the  gravity  of  which  rests 
entirely  upon  the  testimony  of  the  bishop,  the  late 
king,  previously  to  his  romantic  marriage  with 
Elizabeth  Woodville,  had  fallen  in  love  with  the 
Lady  Eleanor  Boteler,f  daughter  of  the  Earl  of 

*  De  Commines,  tome  ii.  p.  244. 

f  This  lady  is  said  to  have  been  the  widow  of  Thomas  Boteler,  Lord 
Sudley,  and  daughter  of  John  Talbot,  Earl  of  Shrewsbury,  by  Cath- 
erine, daughter  of  Humphrey  Stafford,  Duke  of  Buckingham.  Buck 
in  Kennet,  vol.  i.  p.  562;  Hist.  Doubts,  Walpole's  Works,  vol. 
ii.  p.  248.  The  identity,  however,  has  never  been  proved.  One 
of  our  historians  even  goes  so  far  as  to  question  whether  such  a  person 
ever  existed.  See  Lingard's  Hist,  of  England,  vol.  iv.  p.  235,  note,  ed. 
1849.  The  curious  in  such  matters  may  also  perhaps  find  researches 
assisted  by  referring  to  Dugdale's  Baronage,  vol.  i.  pp.  331-2  &  596,  and 
vol.  ii.  p.  235 ;  Eot.  Parl.  vol.  vi.  p.  441 ;  Croyl.  Chron.  p.  489 ;  and 
Sir  E.  Brydges'  Peerage,  vol.  iii.  p.  19.  There  is  one  great  difficulty 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  163 

Shrewsbury.  Failing  in  his  attempt  to  corrupt  her 
virtue,  Edward,  it  was  said,  secretly  made  her  his 
wife.  According  to  the  bishop,  he  himself  per- 
formed the  ceremony,  and  was  the  sole  witness 
present  on  the  occasion.* 

Whether  such  a  marriage  was  ever  really  solemn- 
ized, it  is  now  impossible  to  determine.  Certainly 
there  are  many  circumstances  which  render  it  in 
the  highest  degree  improbable.  That  an  event  of 
such  importance  should  have  been  kept  a  profound 
secret  for  twenty  years,  is  of  itself  extremely  un- 
likely. And  yet,  that  no  suspicion  of  it  had  hith- 
erto got  abroad,  there  can  be  little  question..  Had 
the  contrary  been  the  case,  the  sovereigns  of  Europe 
would  never  have  consented  to  contract  their  chil- 
dren in  marriage  with  those  of  Edward ;  neither 
can  we  doubt  but  that  Clarence  and  Warwick, 
when  they  rebelled  against  his  authority,  would 
have  availed  themselves  of  their  knowledge  of  so 
important  a  fact,  which,  inasmuch  as  it  bastardized 
the  children  of  his  elder  brother,  would  have  left 
Clarence  the  nearest  heir  to  the  throne.  Moreover, 
there  are  other  circumstances, — such  as  no  wit- 
nesses having  apparently  been  examined,  and  no 

opposed  to  the  view  which  Buck  and  Walpole  take  in  regard  to  the 
lady's  identity ;  viz.  that  the  name  of  the  daughter  of  John  Earl  of 
Shrewsbury,  who  married  Thomas  Boteler,  Lord  Sudley,  was  not 
Eleanor,  but  Anne.  She  was  left  a  widow  till  1473,  nine  years  after 
Edward  had  married  Elizabeth  Woodville. 
*  De  Commines,  tome  ii.  p.  157. 


164  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

evidence  produced,  as  well  as  the  suspicions  fact  of 
the  alleged  marriage  having  been  kept  a  secret  till 
those  who  might  have  disproved  it,  were  in  their 
graves, — which  tend  to  throw  discredit  on  the 
bishop's  statement.  True  it  is,  that  parliament 
subsequently  pronounced  the  marriage,  or  pre- 
contract, between  the  late  king  and  the  Lady 
Eleanor  Boteler  to  have  been  proved,  and,  in  con- 
sequence, bastardized  his  children.*  But  the  doc- 
ument on  which  the  act  of  parliament  was  founded, 
is  known  to  have  been  drawn  up  by  the  unfriendly 
Stillington ;  f  and,  moreover,  the  attestation  which 
one  parliament  declared  to  be  valid,  another  parlia- 
ment, in  the  succeeding  reign,  declared  to  be  false 
and  worthless.  The  judges  even  went  so  far  as  to 
pronounce  the  former  act  to  be  a  scandalous  cal- 

*  Rot.  Parl.  vol.  vi.  p.  241.  The  reader  must  on  no  account  confound, 
as  Sir  Thomas  More  would  seem  to  have  done,  the  Lady  Eleanor 
Boteler  with  a  once  famous  mistress  of  Edward  IV.,  Elizabeth  Lucy, 
by  whom  he  is  said  to  have  had  an  illegitimate  son,  Arthur  Plantag- 
enet,  Viscount  1'Isle.  The  Lady  Eleanor  is,  in  fact,  the  only  person 
with  whom  we  have  to  concern  ourselves  as  regards  the  abstract  ques- 
tion of  King  Edward's  former  marriage.  The  act  of  parliament,  which 
subsequently  bastardized  the  children  of  the  late  king,  expressly  de- 
fines, that  at  the  time  of  his  "pretended  marriage"  with  Elizabeth 
Woodville,  "and  before  and  long  time  after,  the  said  King  Edward 
was,  and  stood  married  and  troth  plight  to  one  Dame  Eleanor  Boteler, 
daughter  of  the  old  Earl  of  Shrewsbury" — Rot.  Parl.  ut  supra.  Elizabeth 
Lucy,  on  the  other  hand,  is  said  to  have  been  the  daughter  of  one 
Wyat  of  Southampton,  "  a  mean  gentleman,  if  he  were  one,"  and  the 
wife  of  one  Lucy,  "  as  mean  a  man  as  Wyat." — Buck  in  Kennet,  vol.  i. 
p.  565. 

t  Lingard's  Hist,  of  Eng.  p.  573,  Appendix. 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  165 

umny,  and,  by  the  adoption  of  an  unprecedented 
departure  from  parliamentary  usage,  prevented  its 
being  perpetuated  on  the  statute-book.  It  was 
further  proposed  to  summon  Stillington  to  the  bar 
of  parliament.  By  some  means,  however,  he  con- 
trived to  obtain  a  pardon  from  his  sovereign,  and 
escaped  the  threatened  inquiry  into  his  conduct.* 

Whether  Stillington,  presuming  him  to  have 
been  guilty,  was  stimulated  by  the  thirst  for  re- 
venge which  has  been  attributed  to  him  ;  whether, 
by  earning  the  gratitude  of  Richard,  he  hoped  to 
recover  his  former  high  position  in  the  State ;  or 
whether,  as  is  possible,  he  may  have  considered 
that  by  putting  aside  the  young  king  and  his 
brother,  he  was  averting  great  disasters  from  his 
country,  must  of  course  be  a  matter  of  mere  conjec- 
ture. According  to  De  Commines,  a  desire  to  ele- 
vate, to  a  far  higher  position  than  his  birth  entitled 
him  to,  an  illegitimate  son  to  whom  he  was  much 
attached,  was  the  principal  motive  of  the  bishop. 
The  youth  is  said  to  have  aspired  to  the  hand  of 
the  most  illustrious  maiden  in  the  land,  the  Prin- 
cess Elizabeth,  afterwards  Queen  of  England.  The 
bishop  abetted  the  aspirations  of  his  son,  and,  as  a 
reward  for  aiding  Richard  in  his  designs  on  the 
throne,  is  said  to  have  obtained  a  promise  from 
him,  that  so  soon  as  the  law  should  have  reduced 
the  daughters  of  the  late  king  to  the  position  of 

*  Lingard's  Hist,  of  Eng.  p.  575,  Appendix. 


166  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

private  gentlewomen,  his  son  should  marry  the 
princess.  In  the  mean  time,  the  protector  took  the 
young  man  into  favour,  and  sent  him  on  a  mission 
beyond  sea.  A  different  fortune,  however,  awaited 
him  from  that  which  he  had  anticipated.  The  ship 
in  which  he  sailed  was  captured  off  the  coast  of 
Normandy,  and  the  youth  was  sent  a  prisoner  to 
the  French  capital.  Whatever  may  have  been  the 
offence  with  which  he  was  charged,  he  was  ex- 
amined before  the  parliament  at  Paris,  and  thrown 
into  the  prison  of  the  Petit  Chdtelet.  Here,  it  is 
said,  he  died  of  want  and  neglect.  Not  impossibly, 
however,  some  zealous  English  exile,  eager  to  avert 
the  indignity  which  threatened  the  house  of  Plan- 
tagenet,  may  have  found  means  to  induce  the  func- 
tionaries of  the  prison  to  shorten,  by  a  more  sum- 
mary process,  the  existence  of  the  aspiring  youth.* 
The  subsequent  story  of  Bishop  Stillington,  no 
less  than  that  of  his  past  career,  tends  to  the  con- 
viction that  he  was  little  better  than  the  restless 
and  ambitious  priest,  such  as  he  is  represented  in 
the  pages  of  De  Commines.  Nearly  thirty  years 
after  he  had  sat  on  the  woolsack  as  lord-chancellor, 
we  find  the  veteran  priest  supporting  the  flimsy 
pretensions  of  Lambert  Simnel,  and  consequently 
compelled  to  fly  the  sanctuary  in  the  University  of 
Oxford.  The  university  consented  to  deliver  him 
up  to  Henry  VII. ,  on  condition  that  his  life  should 

*  De  Commines,  tome  ii.  p.  245. 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  167 

be  spared.     He  died  in  durance  in  Windsor  Castle, 
in  the  month  of  June  1491.* 

In  the  mean  time,  the  execution  of  Hastings,  and 
the  imprisonment  of  Lord  Stanley  and  the  two 
prelates,  instead  of  creating  alarm,  would  seem  to 
have  increased  the  confidence  of  the  public  in  the 
government  of  the  protector.  There  were  many 
causes  which  tended  to  this  result.  Not  only  had 
the  report  of  the  previous  marriage  of  the  late  king 
been  sedulously  and  successfully  promulgated  by 
the  partisans  of  Richard,  f  but  they  had  even  gone 
so  far  a,«  to  insist  that  Edward  IV.  himself  had 
been  of  spurious  birth,  and  consequently  that  his 
children  were  excluded,  by  a  double  bar  of  illegi- 
timacy, from  all  title  to  the  throne.  Although  the 
venerable  Duchess  of  York  was  still  living,  it  was 
pretended  that  in  the  lifetime  of  her  husband,  she 
had  been  lavish  in  her  favours  to  other  men,  one  of 
whom  was  the  father  of  King  Edward  and  of  the 
Duke  of  Clarence.  Difficult  as  it  is  to  imagine  that 
a  son  could  be  found  base  enough  to  prefer  charges 
of  adultery  against  his  own  mother,  it  had  never- 
theless formerly  suited  Clarence,  when  he  disputed 
the  title  of  his  brother  Edward  to  the  throne,  to 
countenance,  if  he  did  not  originate,  this  shame- 
ful scandal  4  As  regards  the  conduct  of  the  pro- 

*  Lord  Campbell's  Lives  of  the  Chancellors,  vol.  i  p.  391. 
f  Sir  T.  More's  Kichard  III.  pp.  96-97,  99. 
t  Rot.  Parl.  vol.  vi.  p.  194 


168  KI^G   RICHARD    THE   THIRD. 

tector,  however,  not  only  would  he  seem  to  have 
been  innocent  of  all  share  in  reviving  the  slander, 
but  subsequently,  when  one  of  his  over-zealous 
partisans  descanted  on  it  from  the  pulpit,  he  is 
said  to  have  been  extremely  displeased. 

There  were  many  other  circumstances  which 
favoured  Richard  in  his  ambitious  designs.  The 
young  king  was  only  in  his  thirteenth  year,  and,  as 
we  have  seen,  the  rule  of  a  minor  was  anticipated 
with  the  greatest  apprehension.  Richard,  on  the 
contrary,  was  in  the  prime  of  life ;  he  had  shown 
himself  one  of  the  wisest  princes  of  the  age  in  the 
cabinet,  and  one  of  the  most  valiant  on  the  field  of 
battle.  The  barons  looked  up  to  him  as  the  prin- 
cipal bulwark  against  the  return  of  the  hateful 
Woodvilles  to  power;  while  the  clergy  were  in- 
clined to  uphold  him  on  account  of  the  respect 
which  he  had  ever  manifested  for  the  church,  as  a 
founder  of  public  charities,  a  restorer  of  churches, 
and  a  warm  advocate  and  promoter  of  the  cause  of 
private  morality  and  virtue.  It  was  obviously,  we 
think,  to  obtain  popularity  with  the  clergy,  that  he 
compelled  the  frail,  but  charitable  and  warm-hearted 
Jane  Shore,  to  do  penance  in  the  streets  of  London. 
Moreover,  there  were  probably  many  persons  who 
sincerely  believed  in  the  asserted  illegitimacy  of  the 
young  king  and  his  brother,  as  well  as  in  the  valid- 
ity of  the  attainder  which  excluded  the  Earl  of 
Warwick  from  the  succession.  Lastly,  the  selfish 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  169 

interests  of  mankind  were  ranged  on  the  side  of  the 
protector.  The  rule  of  a  wise,  an  experienced,  and 
a  vigorous  prince  was  calculated  to  insure  peace  and 
prosperity  to  the  realm  ;  while,  on  the  other  hand, 
should  the  sceptre  be  transferred  to  the  young 
king,  puppet  as  he  was  likely  to  prove  in  the  hands 
of  the  queen  and  her  kindred,  there  would  in  all 
probability  ensue  a  renewal  of  those  cruel  civil  con- 
tests, which  for  years  had  wasted  the  blood  and 
treasure  of  the  country. 

We  have  now  accompanied  the  protector  in  his 
career  to  the  21st  of  June,  the  day  previous  to  that 
which  had  been  fixed  upon  for  the  coronation  of 
the  young  king.  On  that  day  London  is  described, 
in  a  remarkble  contemporary  letter  written  on  the 
spot,  as  being  in  a  most  agitated  state.  The  writer, 
who,  in  a  former  letter,  had  urged  his  correspond- 
ent to  attend  the  coronation,  where  he  "would 
know  all  the  world,"  now  congratulates  him  on 
being  absent  from  the  metropolis  at  so  alarming  a 
crisis.*  From  what  quarter, — whether  from  the 
ambition  of  the  protector,  or  from  the  intrigues  of 
the  queen  and  her  still  powerful  faction, — the 
threatened  danger  was  expected  to  arrive,  no  inti- 
mation or  hint  unfortunately  escapes  the  writer. 

*  Letters  from  Simon  Stallworthe  to  Sir  William  Stoner,  knight, 
dated  severally  from  London,  9th  and  21st  June  1483.  Stallworthe 
is  presumed  to  have  been  an  officer  in  the  household,  and  in  the  confi- 
dence, of  John  Russell,  Bishop  of  Lincoln,  at  this  time  lord-chancellor. 
Excerpta  Historica,  pp.  13,  16. 


170  KING   EICHAED   THE   THIED. 

The  quarter,  however,  from  which  it  was  least  to  be 
apprehended,  seems  to  have  been  from  Richard 
himself.  Certainly,  a  few  days  previously,  Rich- 
ard— styling  himself  ' '  protector,  defender,  great 
chamberlain,  constable,  and  admiral  of  England  ' ' 
—had  addressed  an  urgent  appeal  to  the  mayor  and 
citizens  of  York,  intimating  that  "the  queen,  her 
bloody  adherents  and  affinity,  intended,  and  daily 
did  intend,  to  destroy  him,  our  cousin  the  Duke 
of  Buckingham,  and  the  old  royal  blood  of 
the  realm"  and  urging  his  old  friends  in  the 
north  to  send  to  his  aid  and  assistance  as  many 
armed  men  as  they  could  "defensively  array."* 
But,  so  far  from  this  appeal  having  been  made 
with  any  attempt  at  concealment,  there  is  evidence 
that  the  arrival  of  an  armed  force  in  the  metropo- 
lis, at  the  invitation  of  the  protector,  was,  daily 
almost,  expected  by  the  citizens.  Had  Richard, 
then,  been  as  much  dreaded  and  suspected  by  his 
fellow-countrymen  as  the  Tudor  chroniclers  would 
lead  us  to  believe,  surely  a  contemporary,  in  com- 
municating to  his  correspondent  a  proceeding  appa- 
rently so  singular  and  fraught  with  danger,  would 
have  coupled  it  with  some  expression  of  apprehen- 
sion or  alarm.  But  even  the  well-informed  confi- 
dential servant  of  the  lord-chancellor  can  see  noth- 
ing but  what  is  laudable  in  the  policy  of  the  pro- 
tector. "It  is  thought, ' '  he  writes,  ' ' there  shall 

*  Drake's  Eboracum,  p.  111. 


KING    RICHARD    THE  THIRD.  171 

be  20,000  of  my  lord  protector  and  my  iord  of 
Buckingham's  men  in  London  this  week ;  to  what 
intent  I  know  not,  but  to  keep  the  peace."*  The 
dismay,  then,  which  pervaded  London  on  the  21st, 
may  reasonably  be  attributed,  not  to  any  apprehen- 
sion of  the  protector,  but  to  the  expectation  of  an 
approaching  outbreak  on  the  part  of  the  queen  and 
' '  her  bloody  adherents  and  affinity. ' '  That  such  a 
plot  really  existed,  we  have  not  only  the  uncontra- 
dicted  assertion  of  Richard  himself,  but  the  fact 
seems  to  account  for,  and  perhaps  to  justify,  the 
summary  trial  and  execution  of  Rivers,  and  of  two 
others  of  the  queen's  relations,  Sir  Richard  Grey 
and  Sir  Thomas  Vaughan,f  who  were  beheaded,  in 
the  sight  of  the  people,  only  a  day  or  two  after- 
wards at  Pomfret4  On  the  other  hand,  the  cause 
of  the  protector  seems  to  have  been  regarded,  by 
the  majority  of  his  countrymen,  as  the  cause  of 

*Excerp.  Hist.  p.  17. 

f  Sir  Thomas  Vaughan  was  nearly  related  to  the  Woodvilles,  a  sig- 
nificant circumstance  which  Miss  Halsted  has  pointed  out  in  her  Life 
of  Richard  III.  vol.  ii.  p.  55,  note. 

JRous,  Hist.  Reg.  Ang.  pp.  213-4;  Croyl.  Chron.  Cont.  p.  489. 
Rivers'  will  is  dated  at  the  castle  of  Sheriff-Hutton,  23rd  June,  and  it 
seems  to  have  been  immediately  afterwards  that  he  was  arraigned  and 
tried  before  Henry  Earl  of  Northumberland  and  forthwith  sent  to 
execution.  That  a  brave  and  respectable  nobleman  like  Northumber- 
land, one,  moreover,  who  was  bound  by  all  the  ties  of  gratitude  and  loy- 
alty to  maintain  the  rights  of  the  young  king,  should  have  consented 
to  preside  at  the  mock  trial  and  cruel  murder  of  the  uncle  of  his  sov- 
ereign, is  of  itself  a  very  improbable  circumstance.  But  great  doubt 
even  seems  to  exist  whether  the  treatment  which  Rivers  met  with  was 


172  KING   EICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

conservatism  and  order,  and  consequently  the  ex- 
pected arrival  of  an  armed  force  in  London,  at 
the  summons  of  the  chief  magistrate,  would  natur- 
ally be  regarded  by  the  citizens  as  a  subject  for  con- 
gratulation rather  than  alarm. 

With  the  exception  of  the  asserted  murder  of  his 
nephews,  there  are  no  two  acts  of  Eichard's  life 
which  have  drawn  down  upon  him  a  greater  amount 
of  obloquy  than  the  execution  of  Hastings,  and  the 
arbitrary  seizure  of  Rivers  and  Grey.  At  the  time, 
probably,  public  opinion  was  divided  as  to  his  con- 
duct. Many,  perhaps,  taxed  him  with  being  mer- 
ciless if  not  cruel;  while  many  more,  doubtless, 
acquitted  him  on  the  score  of  his  having  been  im- 
pelled by  a  stern  and  necessary  policy.  But,  in 
whatever  light  his  conduct  on  these  occasions  may 
have  been  regarded  by  his  contemporaries,  it  may 


considered  to  be  undeserved  even  by  himself.  For  instance,  considering 
the  share  which  Sir  William  Catesby,  as  "  a  great  instrument  of  Eich- 
ard's crimes  "  (Hume,  vol.  iii.  p.  287),  may  be  presumed  to  have  had  in 
sending  Rivers  to  the  block,  we  are  not  a  little  startled  at  finding  the 
earl  actually  selecting  him  to  be  one  of  the  executors  of  his  last  will. 
Again,  not  less  curious  is  the  confidence  with  which  Rivers  seems  to 
look  forward  that  the  protector  will  see  justice  done  to  him  after  his 
death.  His  will  proceeds, — "  I  beseech  humbly  my  lord  of  Gloucester, 
in  the  worship  of  Christ's  passion,  and  for  the  merit  and  weal  of  his 
soul,  to  comfort,  help  and  assist,  as  supervisor  (for  very  trust)  of  this 
testament,  that  mine  executors  may  with  his  pleasure  fulfil  this  my 
last  will." —  Will  of  Anthony,  Earl  Rvyers,  Excerp.  Hist.  p.  248.  Surely 
these  are  neither  the  acts  nor  the  language  which  might  be  expected 
from  an  injured  man  towards  the  persons  who  he  had  every  reason  to 
believe  were  bent  on  consigning  him  to  a  cruel  death. 


KING    RICHARD    THE   THIRD.  173 

at  least  be  presumed  that  in  the  breasts  of  the 
queen's  relations,  and  of  the  followers  of  the  gallant 
and  idolized  Hastings,  no  other  feelings  could  have 
existed  towards  him  than  those  of  revenge  and 
indignation.  Yet,  on  the  contrary,  strange  as  it 
may  appear,  the  contents  of  the  valuable  letter,  to 
which  we  are  so  much  indebted,  induce  us  to  arrive 
at  an  almost  opposite  conclusion.  Not  only  are  we 
informed  that  Lord  Lisle,  brother  to  the  queen's 
first  husband,  Sir  John  Grey,  has  "come  to  my 
lord  protector  and  waits  upon  him,"*  but  also  that 
the  followers  oZ  Hastings  had  actually  entered  the 
service  of  the  protector's  chief  ally  and  abettor,  the 
Duke  of  Buckingham,  f 

That,  by  this  time,  Richard  had  secretly  sounded 
the  views  of  many  of  the  most  influential  of  the 
lords  spiritual  and  temporal,  and  had  obtained 
their  approval  of  his  aspiring  to  the  crown,  there 
cannot,  we  think,  exist  a  doubt.  But  he  had  yet 
to  obtain  the  sanction  and  concurrence  of  that  once 
important  and  formidable  body  of  men,  the  magis- 
trates and  citizens  of  London.  To  obtain  their 
suffrages,  therefore, — to  accustom  them  to  that 
formal  assertion  of  his  rights  which  he  was  on  the 
eve  of  submitting  to  parliament, — to  propound  to 
them  the  defective  title  of  his  nephew  on  the 
ground  of  illegitimacy,  as  well  as  the  evils  wrhich 
the  rule  of  a  minor  was  certain  to  entail  on  the 

*  Excerp.  Hist.  p.  17.  f  Ibid. 


174  KING   KICHAED    THE   THIRD. 

common  wealth, — were  now  the  policy  of  the  pro- 
tector. 

In  order  clearly  to  understand  the  relative  posi- 
tion of  Richard  and  the  citizens  of  London,  it 
becomes  necessary,  in  the  first  place,  to  divest  our- 
selves of  the  prejudices  of  the  age  in  which  we  live. 
For  instance,  the  worthy  alderman  of  the  present 
day  has  no  more  in  common  with  the  alderman  of 
the  middle  ages,  than  the  easy  peer  who,  in  the 
nineteenth  century,  wears  the  garter  at  a  drawing- 
room  at  St.  James's,  has  in  common  with  the  stal- 
wart warriors  who,  at  Cressy  and  Agincourt,  won 
the  proudest  military  order  in  Christendom.  In 
the  middle  ages,  a  London  alderman  not  only 
ranked  with  the  barons  of  England,  .but  at  his 
decease  the  same  military  honours  were  assigned  to 
both.*  The  banner  and  the  shield  were  carried 
before  the  corpse;  the  helmet  was  laid  on  the 
coffin;  and  the  war-horse,  with  its  martial  trap- 
pings, followed  its  master  to  the  grave.  The  proto- 
types of  the  aldermen  of  London  of  old  may  be 
discovered  in  such  men  as  Sir  William  Walworth, 
who  felled  Wat  Tyler  to  the  earth  at  Smithfield ;  in 
Sir  John  Crosby,  who,  as  a  warrior,  grasped  the 
hand  of  the  fourth  Edward  on  his  landing  at  Raven- 
spur,  and,  as  a  civilian,  played  the  part  of  the 
polished  ambassador  at  the  courts  of  Burgundy  and 
Brittany ;  and,  lastly,  in  Sir  Thomas  Sutton,  whom 

*  Stow's  Survey  of  London,  book  v.  p.  81. 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  175 

we  discover  encouraging  the  advancement  of  letters 
and  superintending  the  progress  of  his  magnificent 
foundation,  the  Charter  House,  with  the  same  zeal 
that  he  had  formerly  directed  the  firing  of  the 
"great  guns "  at  the  siege  of  Edinburgh. 

In  the  age  of  which  we  are  writing,  not  only  were 
the  citizens  trained  to  arms,  but  it  required  no  very 
great  provocation,  nor  any  very  imminent  danger, 
to  induce  the  apprentice  to  fly  to  seize  his  club,  and 
the  citizen  his  halberd.  "Furious  assaults  and 
slaughters"  were  of  no  very  unfrequent  occur- 
rence.* The  seizure  of  the  Tower,  and  the  decapi- 
tation of  the  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  in  1381 ; 
the  sanguinary  encounter  between  the  rival  com- 
panies of  the  Skinners  and  Fishmongers  in  1399, 
and  the  fight  between  the  citizens  and  the  sanctu- 
ary-men of  St.  Martin' s-le-Grand  in  1454,  may  be 
mentioned  as  passing  evidences  of  the  martial  spirit 
which  pervaded  the  age.  At  the  great  meeting  of 
the  barons  in  London,  in  1458,  the  lord-mayor,  as 
we  have  seen,  was  enabled  to  patrol  the  streets, 
night  and  day,  with  a  guard  of  five  thousand  armed 
citizens. f  Moreover,  since  then,  the  civil  war  had 
drained  the  resources  and  lessened  the  military 
power  of  the  barons,  while  the  strength  and  impor- 
tance of  the  towns  had  increased  instead  of  having 
diminished.  Considering  its  extent,  and  the  mar- 
tial spirit  which  distinguished  its  inhabitants,  at  no 

*  Stow's  Survey  of  London,  vol.  ii,  Appendix,  p.  7.      f  See  ante,  p.  41. 


176  KING    RICHARD    THE   THIRD. 

time  during  the  civil  wars  would  a  military  occu- 
pation of  London  have  been  practicable.  Neither 
Edward  IV.  nor  Queen  Margaret,  in  the  days  of 
their  respective  triumphs,  had  dared  to  oppose  the 
citizens  by  force  of  arms.  When  the  latter,  after 
the  second  battle  of  St.  Albans,  approached  the 
metropolis  at  the  head  of  a  victorious  army,  a  sim- 
ple intimation  from  the  lord-mayor  that  the  citizens 
were  unfriendly  to  her  cause,  was  sufficient  to 
check  her  progress.  Again,  when  Edward  entered 
London  in  1471,  it  was  not  at  the  head  of  the  army, 
which  a  few  days  afterwards  he  led  to  victory  at 
Barnet,  but,  by  the  favour  of  the  principal  citizens, 
through  a  postern -gate.  The  Bastard  Falconbridge 
alone  had  dared  to  attempt  to  take  the  capital  by 
assault,  and,  after  a  fierce  and  bloody  contest, 
found  himself  signally  defeated  at  every  point. 

Such,  then,  being  the  military  strength  of  London, 
and  such  the  martial  ardour  of  the  citizens,  surely 
the  protector,  unsupported  as  he  was  by  any  con- 
siderable armed  force,  would  never  have  contem- 
plated the  bold  step  which  he  was  about  to  take, 
unless  he  had  previously  satisfied  himself  that  the 
commonalty  was  in  his  favour.  The  fact,  too,  of 
his  throwing  off  the  mask  before  the  expected 
arrival  of  his  reinforcements  from  York ;  the  cir- 
cumstance, moreover,  of  his  doing  so  at  a  time 
when  London  was  in  a  state  of  panic,  which  it  was 
clearly  his  policy  not  to  augment,  but  to  allay; 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  177 

and,  lastly,  liis  selecting  the  very  day  on  which  the 
disappointed  citizens  had  expected  to  regale  them- 
selves with  the  sight  of  a  coronation, — seem  to 
afford  convincing  evidence  how  persuaded  Richard 
was,  if  not  of  the  justice,  at  least  of  the  popularity 
of  his  cause.  At  a  time,  when  there  was  "much 
trouble,  each  man  doubting  the  other,"*  surely 
Richard  would  never  have  dared  to  publish  his 
designs  on  the  crown,  unless  the  public  had  appre- 
hended danger  from  some  other  quarter  than  Cros- 
by Place,  or  unless  the  majority  of  the  influential 
citizens  had  looked  up  to  him  as,  in  every  sense  of 
the  word,  their  protector. 

The  means  which  Richard  adopted  to  give  pub- 
licity to  his  intended  usurpation,  were  character- 
istic of  the  age  and  of  the  man.  According  to  pre- 
vious invitation,  a  numerous  meeting  of  the  citizens 
took  place  on  Sunday,  the  22nd  of  June,  in  the 
large  open  space  in  front  of  St.  Paul's  Cathedral. 
The  orator  selected  to  harangue  them  was  an 
eminent  popular  preacher  of  the  day,  Dr.  Raaf 
Shaw,  brother  of  Sir  Edmund  Shaw,  lord-mayor  of 
London.  The  spot  from  which  he  addressed  the 
people  was  the  celebrated  Paul's  Cross.  Choosing 
for  his  text  the  words,  ' '  Bastard  slips  shall  not 
take  deep  root,"f  he  not  only  insisted  on  the  ille- 

*  Excerp.  Hist.  p.  16. 

t  "  But  the  multiplying  brood  of  the  ungodly  shall  not  thrive,  nor 
take  deep  rooting  from  bastard  slips,  nor  lay  any  fast  foundation."— 
Book  of  Wisdom,  iv.  3. 


178  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

gitimacy  of  the  young  king  and  his  brother,  but  is 
said  to  have  had  the  boldness  to  descant  upon  the 
assumed  frailty  of  the  illustrious  lady  of  whom 
Richard  was  the  eleventh  child.  The  late  king  and 
the  late  Duke  of  Clarence  he  affirmed  to  be  bas- 
tards :  Richard  alone  he  declared  to  be  the  true 
heir  of  the  late  Duke  of  York.  The  lord  protector, 
he  said,  represented  in  his  lineaments  "the  very 
face"  of  the  noble  duke  his  father ;  he  was  "the 
same  undoubted  image,  the  express  likeness,  of 
that  noble  duke."  According  to  Sir  Thomas  More, 
it  had  been  preconcerted  between  the  protector  and 
the  preacher,  that,  at  this  moment,  the  former 
should  present  himself,  as  if  by  accident,  to  the 
people,  when  it  was  hoped  that  ' '  the  multitude, 
taking  the  doctor's  words  as  proceeding  from  divine 
inspiration,  would  have  been  induced  to  cry  out 
God  save  King  Ricltard!"*  If  this  clap-trap 
device  was  really  projected  by  Richard  and  his 
partisans,  it  signally  failed ;  the  protector,  accord- 
ing to  Sir  Thomas  More,  not  making  his  appearance 
at  the  happy  moment,  and  the  preacher  being  put 
to  such  utter  confusion,  that  he  shortly  afterwards 
died  of  grief  and  remorse.  Our  own  conviction, 
however,  is  that  the  story  is  altogether  apocryphal. 
Not  only  was  so  paltry  an  artifice  incompatible  with 
the  protector's  admitted  sagacity  and  strong  sense, 

*  Sir  T.  More's  Edward  V.  in  Kennet,  vol.  i.  p.  497  ;  More's  Hist,  of 
Richard  III.  p.  101. 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  179 

but  we  search  in  vain  for  any  corroboration  of  it  by 
contemporary  writers.  The  fact  is  a  significant 
one,  that  Fabyan — who,  as  a  citizen  of  London, 
was  not  unlikely  to  have  listened  to  Dr.  Shaw's 
sermon — should,  on  the  one  hand,  substantiate  the 
important  circumstance  of  the  preacher  having  im- 
pugned the  legitimacy  of  the  children  of  Edward 
IV.,  and  yet  should  make  no  allusion  to  any  slur 
having  been  thrown  on  the  reputation  of  the 
Duchess  of  York.* 

On  the  24th  of  June,  two  days  after  Dr.  Shaw 
had  advocated  the  protector's  claims  at  St.  Paul's, 
a  still  more  important  meeting  took  place  in  the 
Guildhall  of  the  city  of  London.  The  principal 
orator  on  this  occasion  was  the  Duke  of  Bucking- 
ham, who  brought  into  play,  in  favour  of  the  pro- 
tector, all  the  influence  which  he  possessed  as  a 
prince  of  the  blood,  as  well  as  the  powerful  elo- 
quence for  which  his  contemporaries  have  given 
him  credit.  "  Many  a  wise  man  that  day,"  writes 
Fabyan,  "marvelled  and  commended  him  for  the 
good  ordering  of  his  words,  but  not  for  the  intent 
and  purpose,  the  which  thereupon  ensued,  "f 
Even  Sir  Thomas  More  admits  that  Buckingham 
delivered  himself  with  "  such  grace  and  eloquence, 

*  Fabyan's  Chronicles,  p.  669.  This  writer  informs  us  that  Shaw  was 
a  man  famous  in  his  day,  "  both  of  his  learning  and  also  of  natural 
wit."— Ibid. 

t  Fabyan's  Chronicles,  p.  669. 


180  KING   RICHARD    THE   THIRD. 

that  never  so  ill  a  subject  was  handled  with  so 
much  oratory."* 

If  the  further  account  of  the  illustrious  lord- 
chancellor  is  to  be  credited,  the  eloquence  of  Buck- 
ingham, powerful  as  it  was,  fell  flat  upon  the  as- 
sembled citizens;  only  "  some  of  the  protector's 
and  the  duke's  servants — some  of  the  city  appren- 
tices and  the  rabble  that  had  crowded  into  the  hall- 
crying,  King  Richard!  King  Richard!  and  throw- 
ing up  their  hats  in  token  of  joy."  According  to 
the  same  authority,  the  proposition  to  put  the 
young  king  aside,  in  favour  of  his  uncle,  was  re- 
ceived by  the  multitude  with  positive  lamentations. 
' '  The  assembly, ' '  he  writes,  ' '  broke  up ;  the 
most  part  of  them  with  weeping  eyes  and  aching 
hearts,  though  they  were  forced  to  hide  their  tears 
and  their  sorrows  as  much  as  possible,  for  fear  of 
giving  offence,  which  had  been  dangerous,  "f 

But,  whatever  may  have  been  the  feelings  with 
which  the  citizens  listened  to  the  arguments  of 
Buckingham,  nothing  can  be  more  certain  than 
that  the  first  persons  in  the  realm  regarded  it  as 
sufficiently  satisfactory  to  justify  them  in  making 
the  protector  a  formal  offer  of  the  crown.  "  The 
barons  and  commons, ' '  says  Buck,  ' '  with  one  gen- 
eral dislike  of,  and  an  universal  negative  voice,  re- 
fused the  sons  of  King  Edward ;  not  for  any  ill- 

*Sir  T.  More's  Edward  V.  in  Kennet,  vol.  i.  p.  499. 
t  Ibid. 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  181 

will  or  malice,  but  for  their  disabilities  and  inca- 
pacities. The  opinions  of  those  times,  too,  held 
them  not  legitimate,  and  the  Queen  Elizabeth  Grey, 
or  Woodville,  no  lawful  wife,  nor  yet  a  woman 
worthy  to  be  the  king's  wife,  by  reason  of  her  ex- 
treme unequal  quality.  For  these  and  other 
causes,  the  barons  and  prelates  unanimously  cast 
their  election  upon  the  protector,  as  the  most 
worthiest  and  nearest,  by  the  experience  of  his  own 
deservings  and  the  strength  of  his  alliance."* 

Accordingly,  on  the  very  day  after  the  meeting 
at  Guildhall,  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  "accom- 
panied by  many  of  the  chief  lords  and  other  grave 
and  learned  persons, ' '  was  admitted  to  an  audience 
with  the  protector  in  the  ' '  great  chamber ' '  of 
Baynard's  Castle,  then  the  residence  of  his  venera- 
ble mother,  the  Duchess  of  York.f  In  the  court- 
yard of  the  castle  were  assembled  the  aldermen  of 
London  and  a  large  body  of  the  citizens,  whom  the 

*  Buck's  Life  of  Richard  III.  in  Kennet,  vol.  i.  p.  523. 

f  The  fact  of  Richard  having  received  the  deputation  under  his 
mother's  roof,  instead  of  at  his  own  residence,  Crosby  Place,  appears  to 
us  as  doubly  curious.  In  the  first  place,  it  tends  to  the  supposition 
that  the  duchess  preferred  the  claims  of  her  youngest  son,  Richard,  to 
those  of  her  grandsons ;  and,  in  the  next  place,  it  goes  far  to  give  the 
lie  to  the  cruel  charge,  which  has  been  brought  against  the  protector, 
that  he  sanctioned  the  foul  aspersions  which  the  preacher  Shaw  had 
cast  on  the  fair  fame  of  his  mother.  "  Is  it,  can  it  be  credible,"  writes 
Lord  Orford,  "that  Richard  actuated  a  venal  preacher  to  declare 
to  the  people  from  the  pulpit  of  St.  Paul's  that  his  mother  had 
been  an  adulteress,  and  that  her  two  eldest  sons,  Edward  IV.  and  the 
Duke  of  Clarence,  were  spurious,  and  that  the  good  lady  had  not  given 


182  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

lord-mayor,  Sir  Edmund  Shaw,*  one  of  the  pro- 
tector's most  devoted  partisans,  had  convened  to 
do  him  honour.  According  to  Sir  Thomas  More, 
it  was  not  till  after  much  importunity,  and  not 
without  great  apparent  reluctance,  that  the  pro- 
tector was  prevailed  upon  to  receive  the  deputation, 
and  to  listen  to  their  arguments  and  persuasions. 
The  statement  is  probably  correct.  No  'one  could 
be  more  aware  than  the  protector  of  the  fickleness 
and  uncertainty  of  popular  favour.  He  knew  that 
the  day  would  probably  arrive  in  which  his  con- 
duct to  his  nephews  would  be  charged  against  him 
as  a  crime.  What  could  be  more  natural,  then, 
than  that  he  should  have  shrunk  from  being  the 
only  traitor?  In  the  day  when  he  might  be  called 
upon  for  his  defence,  he  would  be  enabled  to  plead 
that  his  advisers  and  abettors  had  been  the  noblest 
and  the  wisest  in  the  land ;  that  when  he  accepted 

a  legitimate  child  to  her  husband  but  the  protector,  and,  I  suppose,  the 
Duchess  of  Suffolk  ?  " — Hist.  Doubts,  Lord  Orford's  Works,  vol.  ii.  pp. 
131,  200. 

*  This  munificent  and  respectable  citizen  was  a  member  of  the 
Goldsmiths'  Company.  Besides  rebuilding  "the  old  gate  called 
Cripplegate,  at  his  own  expense"  (Siou;  book  i.  p.  18),  he  founded  and 
endowed  a  free  school  at  Stockport,  in  Cheshire  (Ibid,  book  v.  p  60). 
Six  months  after  Richard's  elevation  to  the  throne,  we  find  him  selling 
to  Shaw,  whom  he  calls  his  merchant,  a  considerable  portion  of  his 
plate,  viz.  275  Ibs.  4  oz.  of  troy  weight.  The  amount  received  by 
Richard  was  550/.  13s.  4c?.,  which  was  paid,  on  the  23rd  December  1483, 
to  Mr.  Edmund  Chatterton,  treasurer  of  the  king's  chamber.  A  list  of 
the  articles  sold  may  be  found  in  Stow's  "  Survey."  Ibid,  book  v. 
p.  124. 


KING    RICHARD    THE   THIRD.  183 

a  crown,  it  was  contrary  to  his  own  wishes  and 
better  judgment,  and  solely  in  deference  to  the 
solicitations  of  the  ' '  lords  spiritual  and  temporal, ' ' 
and  ' '  for  the  public  weal  and  tranquillity  of  the 
land."* 

Glouc.    Cousin  of  Buckingham,  and  sage  grave  men, 
Since  you  will  buckle  fortune  on  my  back. 
To  bear  her  burthen,  whether  I  will  or  no, 
I  must  have  patience  to  endure  the  load  : 
But  if  black  scandal,  or  foul-faced  reproach, 
Attend  the  sequel  of  your  imposition, 
Your  mere  enforcement  shall  acquittance  me 
From  all  the  impure  blots  and  stains  thereof : 
For  God  doth  know,  and  you  may  partly  see, 
How  far  I  am  from  the  desire  of  this. 

King  Richard  III.  Act.  iii.  Sc.  7. 

Thus  the  protector  coquetted,  so  long  as  it  was 
safe  and  decent,  with  his  proffered  greatness.  At 
length,  being  assured  by  Buckingham  that  the 
barons  and  commons  of  England  would  on  no  ac- 

*  Previously  to  his  coronation,  a  roll  containing  certain  articles  was 
presented  to  him  on  behalf  of  the  three  estates  of  the  realm,  "  by  many 
and  divers  lords,  spiritual  and  temporal,"  and  other  nobles  and  com- 
mons, to  which  he,  "for  the  public  weal  and  tranquillity  of  the  land, 
benignly  assented." — Rot.  Part,  vol  vi.  p.  240.  ''  It  was  set  forth,'' 
writes  the  Croyland  continuator,  "  by  way  of  prayer,  in  a  certain  roll  of 
parchment,  that  the  sons  of  King  Edward  were  bastards,  on  the  ground 
that  he  had  contracted  a  marriage  with  one  Lady  Eleanor  Boteler 
before  his  marriage  to  Queen  Elizabeth  ;  added  to  which,  the  blood  of 
his  other  brother,  George  Duke  of  Clarence,  had  been  attainted  ;  so 
that,  at  the  present  time,  no  certain  and  uncorrupted  lineal  blood  could 
be  found  of  Richard  Duke  of  York,  except  in  the  person  of  the  said 
Richard  Duke  of  Gloucester.  For  which  reason  he  was  entreated,  at  the 
end  of  the  said  roll,  on  part  of  the  lords  and  commons  of  the  realm,  to 
assume  his  lawful  rights." — Croyl.  Chron.  Cont.  p.  489. 


184  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD. 

count  consent  to  be  ruled  over  by  the  sons  of 
Edward  IV.,  and,  furthermore,  that,  if  he  persisted 
in  refusing  the  crown,  they  would  be  compelled  to 
look  out  for  some  other  ' '  worthy  person  "  to  be 
their  sovereign,  the  heart  of  the  protector  is  said  to 
have  gradually  relented,  and  in  a  short  speech,  dis- 
tinguished by  humility  and  piety,  he  consented  to 
wield  the  sceptre  of  the  Plantagenets.  "With 
this,"  says  Sir  Thomas  More,  "  there  was  a  great 
shout,  saying,  King  Rlcliard !  King  Richard ! 
And  then  the  lords  went  up  to  the  king,  and  the 
people  departed,  talking  diversely  of  the  matter, 
every  man  as  his  fantasy  gave  him."  * 

The  following  day  the  protector  was  proclaimed 
in  the  cities  of  London  and  Westminster  by  the 
title  of  King  Richard  III.  The  same  day,  having 
the  Duke  of  Norfolk  on  his  right  hand,  and  the 
Duke  of  Suffolk  on  his  left,  he  ascended  the  marble 
seat  in  Westminster  Hall,  and  from  thence  de- 
livered a  gracious  speech  to  his  assembled  subjects. 
Having  ordered  the  judges  to  be  summoned  into 
his  presence,  he  exhorted  them  to  administer  the 
laws  with  diligence  and  justice ;  he  pronounced  a 
free  pardon  for  all  offences  committed  against  him- 
self, and  ordered  a  general  amnesty  to  be  proclaimed 
throughout  the  land.  He  even  sent  for  one  Fogg, 
who,  having  given  him  grievous  offence,  had 
sought  refuge  in  sanctuary,  and,  taking  him  gra- 

*  Sir  T.  More's  Kichard  III.  p.  123. 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  185 

ciously  by  the  hand  in  the  face  of  the  multitude, 
assured  him  of  his  forgiveness.*  From  the  great 
hall  he  proceeded  to  the  abbey,  at  the  door  of 
which  he  was  met  by  the  abbot  of  Westminster, 
who  presented  to  him  the  sceptre  of  King  Edward. 
He  then  ascended,  and  offered  at,  the  shrine  of  St. 
Edward ;  after  which — accompanied  by  the  princi- 
pal ecclesiastics  in  procession,  with  the  monks 
singing  Te  Deum — he  quitted  the  abbey  to  take 
possession  of  the  neighbouring  palace  of  the  Con- 
fessor. 

Thus,  at  the  age  of  thirty  years  and  eight  months, 
and  after  the  lapse  of  only  two  months  and  seven- 
teen days  from  the  date  of  his  brother  Edward's 
death,  was  Richard  of  Gloucester  advanced  to  the 
supreme  power.  If  he  obtained  his  ends  by  means 
of  dissimulation  and  crime,  he  had  at  least  the 
excuse  that  he  had  in  all  probability  averted  the 
horrors  of  civil  war,  and  that  his  usurpation  had 
been  encouraged  and  abetted,  not  only  by  the  lords 
spiritual  and  temporal,  but  by  the  commons  of 
England.  Usurpation  is  usually  accompanied  by 
military  violence ;  but  it  was  the  suffrage,  not  the 
sword,  which  elevated  Richard  to  the  throne. 
True  it  is,  that,  at  his  earnest  request,  the  citizens 
of  York  had  despatched  an  armed  force  to  his 
assistance ;  but  as  it  was  not  till  after  the  25th  of 
June,  two  days  after  which  Rivers  was  beheaded, 

*  Sir  T.  More's  Richard  III.  p.  125. 


186  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

that  they  marched  from  Pomfret,*  they  could  not 
have  arrived  in  London  till  after  the  26th,  the  day  on 
which  Richard  had  been  solemnly  and  peacefully  in- 
vested with  the  sovereign  power.  Moreover,  as  we 
have  already  suggested,  this  force,  in  all  probabil- 
ity, was  intended,  not  to  overawe,  but  to  co-operate 
with,  the  citizens  of  London,  in  the  event  of  a  rising 
on  the  part  of  the  Woodvilles  and  their  friends. 
A  city,  which  was  able  to  protect  itself,  daily  and 
nightly,  with  a  military  patrol  of  5000  men,  had 
little  to  apprehend  from  men,  who,  as  the  chroni- 
cler informs  us,  were  so  ' '  evil  apparelled  and  worse 
harnessed,"  that,  when  they  assembled  at  muster 
in  Firisbury  Fields,  f  the  citizens  of  London  used  to 
laugh  them  to  scorn.  Thus,  not  only  on  the  part 
of  the  lay  and  spiritual  lords,  but  on  the  part  of 
the  commonalty,  wTe  search  in  vain  for  evidence 
that  the  usurpation  of  Richard  provoked  the  dis- 
approbation much  less  the  indignation,  of  his 
countrymen. 

If  further  proof  were  wanted  that  his  usurpation 
was  sanctioned  by  his  subjects,  we  may  point  to  the 
great  concourse  of  holy  and  high-born  men  who 
flocked  to  do  honour  to  him  at  his  coronation. 
Never  had  a  more  splendid  or  more  solemn  pageant 
been  witnessed  on  a  similar  occasion.  When,  on 
the  day  previous  to  the  ceremony, — preceded  by 
heralds,  and  trumpets  and  clarions, — he  rode  forth 

*  Croyl.  Chron.  Cont.  p.  489.  t  Hall,  p.  375. 


KING    RICHARD    THE   THIRD.  187 

from  under  the  gloomy  portal  of  the  Tower  of  Lon- 
don, there  followed  in  his  train  three  dukes,  nine 
earls,  and  twenty-two  barons,  in  addition  to  a 
countless  array  of  knights  and  esquires.  The  sanc- 
tion which  the  city  of  London  gave  to  his  usurpa- 
tion was  manifested  by  the  lord-mayor,  and  the 
aldermen  in  their  scarlet  robes,  riding  in  the  pro- 
cession. That  the  Church,  also,  looked  upon  him 
as  the  anointed  of  the  Lord,  is  proved  by  the  array 
of  mitres  and  croziers  which  swelled  his  triumph 
on  reaching  Westminster.  The  exact  number  of 
prelates  who  were  present  we  know  not.  Certain, 
however,  it  is,  that,  in  addition  to  the  Cardinal 
Archbishop  of  Canterbury, — himself  a  Plantagenet 
on  the  mother's  side,  and  great-grandson  of  Edward 
III.* — the  Bishops  of  Rochester,  Bath,  Durham, 
Exeter,  and  Norwich,  forgot  the  oaths  of  allegiance 
which  they  had  so  recently  taken  to  Edward  V. , 
and  scrupled  not  to  sanction  and  grace  the  pageant 
by  their  presence. 

On  the  following  day,  a  far  more  gorgeous  pro- 
cession passed  from  the  great  hall  at  Westminster 
to  the  neighbouring  abbey.  First  issued  forth  the 
trumpets  and  clarions,  the  sergeants-at-arms,  and 
the  heralds  and  pursuivants  carrying  the  king's 

*  The  archbishop  was  the  son  of  William  de  Bourchier,  created  by 
Henry  V.  Earl  of  Ewe  in  Normandy,  by  the  Lady  Anne  Plantagenet, 
daughter  of  Thomas  of  Woodstock,  Duke  of  Gloucester,  fifth  son  to 
King  Edward  III. 


188  KING    RICHARD    THE   THIRD. 

armorial  insignia.  Then  came  the  bishops  with 
the  mitres  on  their  heads,  and  the  abbots  with  their 
croziers  in  their  hands ;  Audley,  Bishop  of  Roch- 
ester, bearing  the  cross  before  Cardinal  Bourchier, 
Archbishop  of  Canterbury.  Next  followed  the 
Earl  of  Northumberland  carrying  the  pointless 
sword  of  mercy ;  Lord  Stanley  bearing  the  mass ; 
the  Duke  of  Suffolk  with  the  sceptre ;  the  Earl  of 
Lincoln  with  the  cross  and  globe,  and  the  Earls  of 
Kent  and  Surrey,  and  Lord  Lovel,  carrying  other 
swords  of  state.  Before  the  king  walked  the  Earl 
Marshal  of  England,  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,  bearing 
the  crown,  and  immediately  after  him  followed 
Richard  himself,  gorgeously  arrayed  in  robes  of 
purple  velvet,  furred  with  ermine,  with  a  coat  and 
surcoat  of  crimson  satin.  Over  his  head  was  borne 
a  rich  canopy  supported  by  the  barons  of  the  Cinque 
Ports.  On  one  side  of  him  walked  Stillington, 
Bishop  of  Bath,  and  on  the  other,  Dudley,  Bishop 
of  Durham :  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  held  up  his 
train.  The  procession  was  closed  by  a  long  train 
of  earls  and  barons. 

After  the  procession  of  the  king  followed  that  of 
his  queen,  Anne  Neville.  The  Earl  of  Huntingdon 
bore  her  sceptre ;  the  Viscount  Lisle  the  rod  and 
dove ;  and  the  Earl  of  Wiltshire  her  crown.  Then 
came  the  queen  herself,  habited  in  robes  of  purple 
velvet  furred  with  ermine,  having  ' '  on  her  head  a 
circlet  of  gold  with  many  precious  stones  set  there- 


KING   EICHARD    THE   THIRD.  189 

in. "  Over  her  head  was  borne  a  ' '  cloth  of  estate. ' ' 
On  one  side  of  her  walked  Courtenay,  Bishop  of 
Exeter;  on  the  other,  Goldwell,  Bishop  of  Nor- 
wich. A  princess  of  the  blood,  the  celebrated 
Margaret  Countess  of  Richmond,  mother  of  Henry 
VII. ,  supported  her  train.  After  the  queen  walked 
the  king's  sister,  Elizabeth  Duchess  of  Suffolk, 
having  "on  her  head  a  circlet  of  gold  ;  "  and,  after 
her,  followed  the  Duchess  of  Norfolk  and  a  train 
of  high-born  ladies,  succeeded  by  another  train  of 
knights  and  esquires.* 

Entering  the  abbey  at  the  great  west  door,  the 
king  and  queen  "took  their  seats  of  state,  staying 
till  divers  holy  hymns  were  sung,"  when  they 
ascended  to  the  high  altar,  where  the  ceremony  of 
anointment  took  place.  Then  "the  king  and  queen 
put  off  their  robes,  and  there  stood  all  naked  from 
the  middle  upwards,  and  anon  the  bishops  anointed 
both  the  king  and  queen."  This  ceremony  having 
been  performed,  they  exchanged  their  mantles  of 
purple  velvet  for  robes  of  cloth  of  gold,  and  were 
solemnly  crowned  by  the  Archbishop  of  Canter- 
bury, assisted  by  the  other  bishops.  The  arch- 
bishop subsequently  performed  high  mass,  and 
administered  the  holy  communion  to  the  king  and 


*  MS.  in  the  Harleian  collection,  quoted  in  Brayley  and  Britton's 
History  of  the  Palace  of  Westminster,  pp.  332-3 ;  Excerpta  Historica, 
p.  380,  &c. ;  Buck's  Richard  III.  in  Kennet,  vol.  i.  p.  526 ;  Hall,  pp. 
375,  376. 


190  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

queen;  after  which,  they  offered  at  St.  Edward's 
shrine,  where  the  king  laid  down  King  Edward's 
crown  and  put  on  another,  and  so  returned 
to  Westminster  Hall  in  the  same  state  they 
came.* 

The  banquet,  which  took  place  at  four  o'clock  in 
the  great  hall,  is  described  as  having  been  magnifi- 
cent in  the  extreme.  The  king  and  queen  were 
served  on  dishes  of  gold  and  silver ;  Lord  Audley 
performed  the  office  of  state-carver ;  Thomas  Lord 
Scrope  of  Upsal,  that  of  cup-bearer;  Lord  Lovel, 
during  the  entertainment,  stood  before  the  king, 
"two  esquires  lying  under  the  board  at  the  king's 
feet."  On  each  side  of  the  queen  stood  a  countess 
with  a  plaisance,  or  napkin,  for  her  use.  Over  the 
head  of  each  was  held  a  canopy  supported  by  peers 
and  peeresses.  The  guests  consisted  of  the  cardinal 
archbishop,  the  lord-chancellor,  the  prelates,  the 
judges  and  nobles  of  the  land,  and  the  lord-mayor 
and  principal  citizens  of  London. f  The  ladies  sat 

*  Buck  in  Kennet,  vol.  i.  p.  526  ;  Excerpta  Hist.  pp.  381-2. 

f  The  lord-mayor,  according  to  ancient  usage,  served  the  king  and 
queen  with  wine  at  the  banquet,  as  chief  butler  of  England.  "  And  the 
same  mayor,  after  dinner  ended,  offered  to  the  said  lord  the  king,  wine 
in  a  gold  cup,  with  a  golden  vial  [cum  fiola  aurea]  full  of  water  to 
temper  the  wine.  And  after  the  wine  was  taken  by  the  lord  king,  the 
mayor  retained  the  said  cup  and  vial  of  gold  to  his  own  proper  use.  In 
like  manner,  the  mayor  offered  to  the  queen,  after  the  feast  ended,  wine 
in  a  golden  cup,  with  a  gold  vial  full  of  water.  And  after  wine  taken 
by  the  said  queen,  she  gave  the  cup  with  the  vial  to  the  mayor,  accord- 
ing to  the  privileges,  liberties,  and  customs  of  the  city  of  London,  in 
such  cases  used." — Stovfs  Survey  of  London,  book  v.  pp.  153-4. 


KING    RICHAED   THE   THIRD.  191 

by  themselves  on  the  side  of  a  long  table  in  the 
middle  of  the  hall.  As  soon  as  the  second  course 
was  put  on  the  table,  the  king's  champion,  Sir 
Robert  Dymoke,  rode  into  the  hall;  "his  horse 
being  trapped  with  white  silk  and  red,  and  himself 
in  white  harness;  the  heralds  of  arms  standing 
upon  a  stage  among  all  the  company.  Then  the 
king's  champion  rode  up  before  the  king,  asking, 
before  all  the  people,  if  there  was  any  man  would 
say  against  King  Richard  III.  why  he  should  not 
pretend  to  the  crown.  And  when  he  had  so  said, 
all  the  hall  cried  King  Richard!  all  with  one 
voice.  And  when  this  was  done,  anon  one  of  the 
lords  brought  unto  the  champion  a  covered  cup  full 
of  red  wine,  and  so  he  took  the  cup  and  uncovered 
it,  and  drank  thereof.  And  when  he  had  done, 
anon  he  cast  out  the  wine,  and  covered  the  cup 
again;  and  making  his  obeysance  to  the  king, 
turned  his  horse  about,  and  rode  through  the  hall, 
with  his  cup  in  his  right  hand,  and  that  he  had  for 
his  labour."  Then  Garter  king-at-arms,  supported 
by  eighteen  other  heralds,  advanced  before  the 
king,  and  solemnly  proclaimed  his  style  and  titles. 
No  single  untoward  accident  seems  to  have  marred 
the  harmony  or  splendour  of  the  day.  When  at 
length  it  began  to  close,  the  hall  was  illuminated 
by  a  "  great  light  of  wax  torches  and  torchets, ' ' 
apparently  the  signal  for  the  king  and  queen  to 
retire.  Accordingly,  wafers  and  hippocras  having 


192  KIJSTG    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

been  previously  served,  Richard  and  his  consort 
rose  up  and  departed  to  their  private  apartments  in 
the  palace.* 

*  Harl.  MS.  ut  supra ;  Excerpta  Hist.  pp.  382-3. 


CHAPTER   V. 

THE   GREATNESS   AND   THE   SIN    OF    RICHARD    OF 
GLOUCESTER. 

fTlHE  conduct  of  Richard  III.  on  ascending  the 
throne  of  the  Plantagenets,  was  such  as  to 
hold  out  every  promise  to  his  subjects  of  a  just, 
happy,  and  prosperous  reign.  Addressing  himself 
to  the  barons,  after  his  coronation,  he  enjoined 
them  to  insure  good  government  in  their  several 
counties,  and  to  see  that  none  of  his  subjects  were 
wronged.*  He  himself  occasionally  presided  in 
person  in  the  courts  of  law.  He  won  the  hearts  of 
his  subjects  by  mingling  familiarly  with  them,  and 
addressing  them  in  kind  and  encouraging  language. 
He  performed  a  highly  popular  act  by  disforesting 
a  large  tract  of  land  at  Witch  wood,  which  his 
brother  Edward  had  enclosed  as  a  deer-forest,  f 
Again,  when  London,  and  certain  counties,  offered 
him  a  benevolence,  he  refused  it,  saying,  "  I  would 
rather  have  your  hearts  than  your  money."  $ 
He  had  not  only  released  from  imprisonment  and 

*Sir  T.  More's  Edward  V.  in  Kennet,  vol.  i.  p.  501. 
t  Kous,  Hist.  Ang.  Keg.  p.  216 ;  Sandford,  Gen.  Hist,  book  v.  p. 
434. 

J  Ki  .us,  ut  supra,  p.  216    Camden's  Remains,  p.  353. 

193 


194  KING   KICHAED   THE   THIRD. 

pardoned  Lord  Stanley,  but  he  appointed  him 
Lord  High  Steward  of  his  household.  He  released 
the  title  and  estates  of  the  late  Lord  Hastings  from 
attainder  and  forfeiture;  securing  the  possession 
of  them  to  his  widow,  the  sister  of  the  great  Earl 
of  Warwick,  whom  he  engaged  to  protect  and  de- 
fend as  hei  good  and  gracious  sovereign  lord,  and 
"  to  suffer  none  to  do  her  wrong."  *  He  listened 
complacently  to  a  petition  from  the  university  of 
Cambridge,  in  favour  of  their  chancellor,  the  Arch- 
bishop of  York,  whom,  at  their  solicitation,  he  re- 
leased from  confinement.  He  even  liberated  from 
the  Tower  one  of  the  most  active  and  powerful  of 
his  enemies,  Morton,  Bishop  of  Ely;  contenting 
himself  with  committing  him  to  the  safe  keeping 
of  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  by  whom  the  bishop 
was  honourably  entertained  at  his  castle  of  Breck- 
nock. Of  his  former  friends,  and  of  those  who 
had  served  him  faithfully,  not  one,  it  is  said,  was 
left  unrewarded,  much  less  forgotten.  John  Lord 
Howard  was  created  Duke  of  Norfolk,  and  ap- 
pointed earl  marshal  and  admiral  of  England  and 
Ireland.  His  son,  Sir  Thomas  Howard,  was  created 
Earl  of  Surrey  and  invested  with  the  Garter.  The 
Duke  of  Buckingham,  who  of  all  men  had  been 
chiefly  instrumental  in  elevating  Richard  to  the 
throne,  was  awarded  the  princely  lordships  and 

*  Harl.  MSB.  433,  p.  108,  quoted  in  S.  Turner's  Middle  Ages,  vol. 
iv.  p.  27. 


KING    RICHAKD   THE   THIRD.  195 

lands  of  the  De  Bohuns,  Earls  of  Hereford,  and  the 
lucrative  stewardship  of  many  of  the  crown  manors. 
He  was  also  appointed  constable  of  England  and 
governor  of  the  royal  castles  in  Wales.  William 
Viscount  Berkeley  was  created  Earl  of  Notting- 
ham, and  Francis  Lord  Lovel  appointed  chamber- 
lain of  the  household,  constable  of  the  castle  of 
Wallingford,  and  chief  butler  of  England. 

On  the  23rd  July,  King  Richard  set  forth  from 
Windsor  on  a  magnificent  progress  through  the 
middle  and  northern  counties  of  England.  That, 
only  seventeen  days  after  his  coronation,  he  should 
have  considered  it  safe  to  leave  the  capital  unawed 
by  his  presence,  evinces  the  confidence  which  he 
must  have  felt  in  the  goodwill,  if  not  in  the  affec- 
tions, of  his  subjects.  Moreover,  he  had  previously 
sent  back  his  northern  army  with  presents  to  their 
homes,  thus  leaving  behind  him  no  military 
force  to  support  hio  authority  in  the  event  of 
danger. 

In  the  north,  his  former  good  government  had 
been  fully  appreciated,  and  his  person  regarded 
with  affection.*  Scarcely  three  months  had  elapsed 
since  he  bade  farewell  to  his  friends  as  Duke  of 
Gloucester,  and  a  mere  subject  like  themselves. 
It  was  not  unnatural,  therefore,  that  he  should 
avail  himself  of  the  earliest  opportunity  of  display  - 

*  Surtees'  Hist,  of  Durham,  vol.  iv.  p.  66 ;  Drake's  Eboracum,  pp. 
118,  120. 


196  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

ing  to  them  ' '  the  high  and  kingly  station ' '  which 
in  the  mean  time  he  had  acquired.* 

At  Oxford  the  new  king  was  received  with  that 
reverence  and  enthusiasm  which  this  loyal  univer- 
sity has  ever  been  accustomed  to  display  towards 
the  sovereign  of  the  hour.  At  the  entrance  to  the 
city  he  was  met  by  the  chancellor  and  the  heads  of 
the  colleges.  The  Bishops  of  Durham,  Worcester, 
St.  Asaph,  and  St.  David's,  the  Earls  of  Lincoln 
and  Surrey,  Lord  Lovel,  Lord  Stanley,  Lord  Aud- 
ley,  Lord  Beauchamp,  and  other  nobles,  swelled 
his  train.  Waynflete,  Bishop  of  Winchester,  con- 
ducted him  to  the  royal  apartments  in  Magdalen 
College,  of  which  that  eminent  prelate  was  the 
founder,  f  At  Gloucester,  the  city  from  which  he 
had  derived  his  ducal  title,  he  was  received  with 
the  heartiest  welcome.  Thus  far  he  had  been 
attended  by  the  princely  and  the  ambitious  Buck- 
ingham ;  and  here,  in  ' '  most  loving  and  trusty 
manner,"  they  took  leave  of  each  other.:}:  At 
Tewkesbury,  Richard  again  stood  on  the  memorable 
battle-field  which  had  witnessed  the  chivalry  of  his 
boyhood,  and  where  he  had  established  his  military 
reputation.  At  Warwick  he  was  joined  by  his 
gentle  queen,  and  here  in  the  halls  of  the  dead 

*  Croyl.  Chron.  Cont.  p.  490. 

t  Wood's  Hist,  of  Oxford,  by  Gutch,  vol.  i.  p.  639  ;  Chalmers'  Hist, 
of  Oxford,  p.  210. 

t  Sir  T.  More's  Richard  III.  p.  137. 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  197 

Kingmaker,  under  the  roof  of  which  she  was  born, 
he  received  the  ambassador  of  Isabella  of  Castile,  as 
well  as  the  envoys  of  the  King  of  France  and  the 
Duke  of  Burgundy,  who  came  to  congratulate  him 
on  his  accession.  On  the  15th  of  August  we  find 
him  at  Coventry,  on  the  17th  at  Leicester,  and  on 
the  22nd  at  Nottingham. 

But  it  was  reserved  for  the  city  of  York  to  wit- 
ness his  crowning  triumph.  His  visit  to  the  ancient 
city  was  celebrated  by  the  inhabitants  with  ban- 
quets, pageants,  and  every  description  of  rejoicing 
and  festivity.*  The  clergy  and  the  nobles  seem  to 
have  vied  with  each  other  who  could  do  him  the 
greatest  honour.  Here,  whether  from  a  desire  to 
gratify  his  northern  friends, — whether  from  a 
yearning  for  popularity,  or  perhaps  from  some 
sounder  motive  of  policy, — he  caused  himself  to  be 
a  second  time  crowned.  The  ceremony  was  per- 
formed in  the  noble  cathedral  by  Rotheram,  Arch- 

*  Richard  would  seem  to  have  been  extremely  anxious  to  meet  with 
a  hearty  and  princely  reception  from  the  city  of  York.  Accordingly, 
on  the  23rd  of  August,  we  find  his  secretary,  John  Kendale,  writing  to 
the  lord-mayor  and  aldermen  of  that  important  city :  "  This  I  advise 
you,  as  laudably  as  your  wisdom  can  imagine,  to  receive  him  and  the 
queen  at  his  coming,  as  well  with  pageants  and  with  such  good  speeches 
as  can  goodly,  this  short  waniing  considered,  be  devised  ;  and  under 
such  form  as  Master  Lancaster,  of  the  king's  council,  this  bringer  shall 
somewhat  advertise  you  of  my  mind  in  that  behalf;  as  in  hanging 
the  streets,  through  which  the  king's  grace  shall  come,  with  cloths 
of  arras,  tapestry-work  and  other,  for  there  come  many  southern 
lords  and  men  of  worship  with  them,  which  will  mark  greatly  your 
receiving  their  graces." — Drake's  Ebor.  p.  116. 


198  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

bishop  of  York,  with  scarcely  less  pomp  and  mag- 
nificence, than  when  Cardinal  Bourchier  had  placed 
the  crown  on  his  head  in  the  abbey  of  Westmin- 
ster.* Richard  may  possibly  have  been  not  only 
the  unprincipled  usurper,  but  the  atrocious  crimi- 
nal, which  he  has  been  represented.  But,  on  the 
other  hand,  when,  on  these  solemn  occasions,  we 
not  only  find  the  Archbishops  of  Canterbury  and 
York  countenancing  his  usurpation  by  their  pres- 
ence, but  receiving  and  sanctifying  his  coronation  - 
oath,  administering  to  him  the  Holy  Sacrament, 
and  granting  him  absolution  for  his  sins,  surely  it 
is  more  reasonable  and  more  agreeable  to  believe 
that  these  reverend  prelates  regarded  his  recent 
acts  as  justified  by  circumstances  or  by  necessity, 
than  that  in  their  hearts  they  should  have  held 
him  an  abandoned  murderer  and  oppressor,  and 
therefore,  by  abetting  his  crimes  and  invoking 
the  blessing  of  Heaven  on  his  reign,  have 
rendered  themselves  as  culpable  as  he  was  him- 
self. 

Not  the  least  interesting  figure  that  walked  in 
procession  at  the  second  coronation  of  Richard  III., 
was  his  only  legitimate  offspring,  a  child  ten  years 
of  age,  Edward  Earl  of  Salisbury.  In  his  hand  the 
boy  held  a  rod  of  gold;  his  brows  supported  a 
demi-crown,  the  appointed  head-dress  on  such 

*  Hall's   Chron.  p.  380 ;  Buck  in  Kennet,  vol.   i.  p.  527 ;  Drake's 
Eboracum,  p.  117. 


KING    RICHARD    THE   THIRD.  199 

state  occasions  for  the  heir  to  the  throne  of  Eng- 
land. The  queen,  his  mother,  walked  by  his  side, 
holding  him  by  her  left  hand.  In  this  promising 
child  were  centred  all  the  hopes  and  fears  of  his 
ambitious  sire.  Through  his  means  he  trusted  to 
bequeath  a  sceptre  which  would  descend  to  gener- 
ations of  kings.  He  loved  him  as  he  seems  to  have 
loved  no  other  being  on  earth.  For  that  child  he 
had  watched  and  toiled  and  intrigued  till  he  found 
the  sceptre  within  his  grasp  :  and,  lastly,  it  was  for 
his  aggrandizement,  apparently,  that  he  was  subse- 
quently induced  to  commit  that  fearful  and  memor- 
able crime  w^hich  has  handed  down  his  name, 
branded  with  the  crime  of  murder,  to  succeeding 
generations.  How  inscrutable  are  the  dispensations 
of  Providence !  On  the  day  of  his  second  corona- 
tion, the  fond  father,  surrounded  by  the  most 
powerful  and  the  wisest  in  the  land,  had  solemnly 
created  his  son  Prince  of  Wales  and  Earl  of  Ches- 
ter. And  yet,  less  than  seven  months  from  that 
day  of  triumph,  the  innocent  object  of  aspirations  so 
high,  and  of  greatness  so  ill-gotten,  was  numbered 
with  the  dead. 

Hitherto  Richard's  conduct  from  the  time  of  his 
accession  had  been  not  only  blameless,  but  laudable. 
His  progress  had  everywhere  been  marked  by  popu- 
lar and  beneficent  acts.  The  anxiety  which  he 
showed  to  redress  the  wrongs  of  his  subjects,  and 
to  insure  an  impartial  administration  of  the  laws, 


200  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

has  been  especially  recorded.  "  Thanked  be 
Jesu,"  writes  the  secretary  Kendale,  "the  king's 
grace  is  in  good  health,  as  is  likewise  the  queen's 
grace :  and  in  all  their  progress  have  been  worship - 
fully  received  with  pageants  and  other,  &c.,  &c. ; 
and  his  lords  and  judges,  in  every  place,  sitting 
determining  the  complaints  of  poor  folks,  with  due 
punition  of  offenders  against  his  laws."  * 

Hitherto  also  his  progress,  like  his  reign,  had 
been  prosperous  and  tranquil.  On  his  arrival  at 
Lincoln,  however,  rumours  appear  to  have  reached 
him  which  occasioned  him  the  deepest  anxiety. 
Although  the  nobles  and  prelates  of  England, 
whether  from  fear  or  from  motives  of  political  ex- 
pediency, had  preferred  Richard  of  Gloucester  to 
be  their  sovereign,  there  must  necessarily  have 
been  many  among  them  who  were  indebted  either 
for  their  coronets  or  their  mitres  to  the  great  king 
whom  they  had  so  recently  followed  to  the  tomb, 
and  to  whom  therefore  the  welfare  of  his  unoffend- 
ing offspring  must  have  been  a  matter  of  interest. 
Men,  in  that  turbulent  age,  may  have  set  little 
value  on  human  life.  They  may  have  been  fierce 
in  their  revenge,  and  unscrupulous  in  seizing  the 
property  of  their  adversaries;  but,  on  the  other 
hand,  they  wrere  not,  necessarily,  either  ungener- 
ous or  ungrateful.  Fallen  greatness,  more  especi- 
ally when  associated  with  innocence  and  youth, 

*  Drake's  Ebor.  p.  116. 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  201 

can  scarcely  fail,  even  among  the  fiercest  and  most 
selfish,  to  attract  commiseration.  Of  the  peers  and 
prelates  who  had  preferred  and  exalted  Richard  of 
Gloucester  to  be  their  sovereign,  not  one  probably 
had  anticipated  that  the  young  prince  whom  they 
deposed  would  be  exposed  to  personal  danger  and 
discomfort ;  and  still  less  that  he  should  be  doomed 
to  that  miserable  and  mysterious  fate  which  has 
since  aroused  the  curiosity  and  the  pity  of  cen 
turies.  Up  to  the  day  of  his  deposition  Edward  V. 
had  been  attended  with  all  the  respect  and  cere- 
mony due  to  the  heir  of  the  Plantagenets.  But 
from  that  time  no  tidings  of  him  had  transpired 
beyond  his  dark  prison-house  in  the  Tower.  Of 
the  peers  and  prelates  who,  on  the  4th  of  May,  had 
knelt  and  paid  homage  to  him,  not  one  prob- 
ably could  have  told  how  fared  it  with  the  unof- 
fending children  of  their  late  master, — whether 
they  were  immured  in  the  dungeons  of  the  Tower, 
or  whether  even  a  darker  fate  might  have  befallen 
them. 

Nor  was  it  only  in  the  halls  of  the  great  that  the 
mysterious  fate  of  the  young  princes  was  a  subject 
of  interest  and  curiosity,  but  by  degrees  it  excited 
general  anxiety.  Gradually  rumours  got  abroad, 
which  attributed  to  the  darkest  motives  the  king's 
seclusion  of  his  nephews  from  the  light  of  heaven. 
Since  the  day  of  Richard's  coronation,  the  young 
princes  had  been  beheld  by  no  human  eye  but  those 


202  KING   KICHAED   THE   THIBD. 

of  their  keepers  and  attendants.  Accordingly,  in 
many  places,  and  especially  in  the  southern  and 
western  counties,  secret  meetings  were  held  with  the 
object  of  effecting  their  release  from  imprisonment, 
and,  if  possible,  of  restoring  young  Edward  to  the 
throne  of  his  ancestors.  Among  other  suggestions, 
it  was  proposed  that  one  or  more  of  the  daughters 
of  the  late  king  should  be  conveyed  in  disguise  out 
of  the  sanctuary  at  Westminster,  and  transported 
into  foreign  parts.  Thus  should  any  "fatal  mis- 
hap "  have  befallen  the  young  princes,  the  crown 
might  yet  be  transmitted  in  the  direct  line  to  the 
heirs  of  the  house  of  York.* 

By  degrees  these  meetings  in  favour  of  the  young 
princes  began  to  be  more  openly  held  and  much 
more  numerously  attended.  Of  course,  so  jealous 
and  vigilant  a  monarch  as  Richard  could  not  long 
be  kept  in  ignorance  of  their  existence.  Accord- 
ingly, he  no  sooner  discovered  the  storm  which  was 
gathering  than  he  prepared  to  encounter  it  with  the 
energy  and  resolution  which  characterized  him  in 
every  emergency.  From  the  extraordinary  precau- 
tions which  he  took  to  prevent  the  escape  of  the 
young  princesses  from  the  sanctuary  at  Westmin- 
ster, we  are  inclined  to  think  either  that  the  male 
heirs  of  King  Edward's  body  had  already  been  put 
to  death,  or  else  that  their  immediate  destruction 
had  been  resolved  upon.  According  to  a  contem- 

*  Croyl.  Chron.  Cont.  p.  491. 


KING    RICHAED   THE   THIRD.  203 

porary  writer, — "The  noble  church  of  the  monks  at 
Westminster,  and  all  the  neighbouring  parts, 
assumed  the  appearance  of  a  castle  and  fortress; 
while  men  of  the  greatest  austerity  were  appointed 
by  Richard  to  act  as  keepers  thereof.  The  captain 
and  head  of  these  was  John  Nesfield,  esquire,  who 
set  a  watch  upon  all  the  inlets  and  outlets  of  the 
monastery,  so  that  not  one  of  the  persons  there 
shut  up  could  go  forth,  and  no  one  could  enter, 
without  his  permission."* 

The  usurper  was  probably  congratulating  him- 
self, that,  by  his  vigorous  precautions,  he  had 
averted  the  perils  which  beset  his  throne,  when,  to 
his  exceeding  astonishment,  he  received  intelli- 
gence that  the  Duke  of  Buckingham  had  entered 
into  a  secret  alliance  with  his  enemies.  That  Buck- 
ingham,— his  accomplice,  his  chief  adviser,  his 
friend  and  confidant, — he  who  of  all  others  had 
been  most  instrumental  in  placing  the  crown  on  his 
head,  and  on  whom  in  return  he  had  lavished  wealth 
and  honour, — should  league  himself  with  his 
deadliest  foes,  and,  to  use  the  king's  own  ex- 
pressive words,  prove  the  "most  untrue  creature 
living,  "f  appears  to  have  wounded  and  disturbed 
the  usurper  more  than  any  other  event  of  his  life. 
Hollow,  indeed,  did  it  prove  the  ground  to  be  on 

*  Croyl.  Chron.  Cont.  p.  491. 

f  Letter  from  the  king  to  the  Lord  Chancellor  Russell,  Bishop  of 
Lincoln,  dated  Lincoln,  12th  October. — Kennefs  Complete  Hist.  voL  i.  p. 
532,  note. 


204  KING   EICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

which  he  stood.  If  Buckingham  could  desert  him, 
who,  of  all  the  others  wTho  had  sworn  fidelity  to  him 
on  his  coronation  day,  were  likely  to  prove  more 
grateful  or  more  true?  Henceforth  it  was  evident 
that  safety  and  success  must  depend  upon  his  own 
watchful  sagacity,  his  indomitable  courage  and 
masterly  talents. 

Buckingham's  apostasy  has  been  attributed  to 
different  motives.  According  to  some  accounts  he 
was  dissatisfied  with  the  manner  in  which  his 
services  had  been  rewarded ;  according  to  others, 
he  aimed  at  the  deposition  of  Richard  and  gaining 
the  crown  for  himself.  Little  more  than  three 
months  had  elapsed  since  he  had  cheerfully  carried 
the  white  staff  at  the  coronation  of  Richard ;  little 
more  than  two  months  since,  apparently  on  the 
most  loving  terms,  they  had  bidden  farewell  to  each 
other  at  Gloucester.  Assuredly  this  was  a  very 
short  period  to  revolutionize  the  principles  and 
policy  even  of  the  most  mercurial  of  statesmen  and 
the  falsest  of  friends.  The  probability  we  consider 
to  be — and  the  supposition  accords  with  the  state 
of  reaction  in  the  public  mind  in  favour  of  the 
young  princes, — that  the  principal,  if  not  the  sole, 
cause  of  Buckingham's  defalcation,  was  that  which 
he  himself  assigned  to  Morton,  Bishop  of  Ely,  at 
Brecknock.  "When,"  he  said,  "I  was  credibly 
informed  of  the  death  of  the  two  young  innocents, 
his  (Richard's)  own  natural  nephews,  contrary  to 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  205 

his  faith  and  promise, — to  the  which,  God  be  my 
judge,  I  never  agreed  nor  condescended, — how  my 
body  trembled,  and  how  my  heart  inwardly 
grudged !  Insomuch  that  I  so  abhorred  the  sight, 
and  much  more  the  company  of  him,  that  I  could 
no  longer  abide  in  his  court,  except  I  should  be 
openly  revenged.  The  end  whereof  was  doubtful, 
and  so  I  feigned  a  cause  to  depart;  and  with  a 
merry  countenance  and  a  despiteful  heart,  I  took 
my  leave  humbly  of  him ;  he  thinking  nothing  less 
than  that  I  was  displeased,  and  so  returned  to 
Brecknock."*  As  Buckingham  was  uncle  by  mar- 
riage to  the  young  princes,  and  as,  at  this  time,  he 
was  by  far  the  most  powerful  subject  in  the  realm, 
his  secession  from  the  cause  of  the  usurper  was 
naturally  of  the  utmost  importance  to  the  conspir- 
ators. The  time,  however,  for  open  insurrection 
had  yet  to  arrive. 

Very  different  from  what  we  might  have  antici- 
pated was  the  conduct  of  Richard,  when  apprized 
that  his  subjects  suspected  him  of  foul  play 
towards  his  nephews  and  more  than  murmured 
their  indignation.  Presuming  the  young  king  and 
his  brother  to  have  been  still  in  existence,  surely 
the  true  policy  of  Richard  was  to  have  led  them 
forth  into  the  open  light  of  heaven;  or,  at  all 
events,  to  have  satisfied  his  subjects,  by  the  testi- 
mony of  unprejudiced  eye-witnesses,  that  they  were 

*  Grafton's  Cont.  of  More,  vol.  ii.  p.  127. 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

still  living  and  in  safe  and  honourable  keeping. 
For  instance,  when,  only  a  few  years  later,  the 
world  whispered  that  Henry  VII.  had  secretly  put 
to  death  the  last  male  heir  of  the  Plantagenets, 
Edward  Earl  of  Warwick,  Henry  at  once  silenced 
the  scandal  by  causing  him  to  be  brought,  on  a 
Sunday,  "throughout  the  principal  streets  of 
London,  to  be  seen  by  the  people."*  Richard, 
on  the  contrary,  not  only  took  no  steps  to  give  the 
lie  to  popular  clamour,  but  at  once  set  the  opinion 
of  the  world  at  defiance,  by  acknowledging  that 
his  unhappy  nephews  had  passed  away  from  the 
earth,  f  Certainly,  if  he  sought  to  silence  the 
clamour  and  stifle  the  plots  of  the  partisans  of  the 
young  princes,  by  demonstrating  to  them  how  idle 
it  was  to  struggle  any  longer  for  rights  which  the 
grave  had  swallowed  up,  the  policy  of  Richard  is 
rendered  intelligible.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  it 
was  scarcely  less  certain  that  the  announcement  of 
the  premature  deaths  of  two  young  and  unoffending- 
children,  would  not  only  lend  weight  to  the  suspi- 
cions of  foul  play  which  were  already  prevalent, 
but  would  call  up  a  storm  of  indignation  against 
which  no  monarch,  however  despotic,  or  insensible 
to  the  opinion  of  his  subjects,  could  expect  long  to 
contend. 

Such,  in  fact,  proved  to  be  the  result.     The  in- 

*  Lord  Bacon  in  Kennet,  vol.  i.  p.  585. 

t  Grafton,  vol.  ii.  p.  119 ;  Polydore  Virgil,  lib.  xxv.  p.  694. 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  207 

creasing  conviction  in  men's  minds,  that  the  inno- 
cent princes  had  met  with  a  cruel  and  untimely 
end,  excited  deep  and  almost  universal  commisera- 
tion. According  to  the  chronicler  Graf  ton,  "  When 
the  fame  of  this  detestable  act  was  revealed  and 
demulged  through  the  whole  realm,  there  fell 
generally  such  a  dolour  and  inward  sorrow  into 
the  hearts  of  all  the  people,  that,  all  fear  of  his 
cruelty  set  aside,  they  in  every  town,  street,  and 
place,  openly  wept  and  piteously  sobbed."*  More- 
over, notwithstanding  her  former  unpopularity, 
men's  minds  could  scarcely  fail  to  sympathize  with 
the  sorrow-stricken  widow  of  Edward  IV.,  who 
only  a  few  months  previously  had  watched  over  the 
death -bed  of  a  beloved  husband,  had  mourned  the 
tragical  fate  of  a  brother  and  a  son,  and  who  was 
now  called  upon  to  bewail  the  deaths  of  two  other 
children,  her  pride,  her  comfort,  and  her  hope. 
When  the  sad  tidings  were  conveyed  to  her  in  the 
sanctuary,  so  grievously,  we  are  told,  was  she 
' '  amazed  with  the  greatness  of  the  cruelty, ' '  that 
she  fell  on  the  ground  in  a  swoon,  and  was  appar- 
ently in  the  agonies  of  death.  On  recovering  her- 
self, Elizabeth,  in  the  most  pitiable  manner,  called 
upon  her  children  by  name;  bitterly  reproaching 
herself  for  having  been  induced  to  deliver  up  her 
youngest  son  into  the  hands  of  his  enemies,  and 
wildly  invoking  the  vengeance  of  heaven  on  the 

*  Grafton's  Chronicle,  vol.  ii.  p.  119. 


208  KING   RICHARD    THE   THIRD. 

heads  of  the  murderers  of  her  beloved  ones.  When, 
a  few  months  afterwards,  Richard  was  bowed  to 
the  earth  by  the  death  of  his  only  and  beloved 
child,  men,  in  that  superstitious  age,  naturally 
traced  his  great  affliction  to  the  execrations  of  that 
agonized  mother. 

The  earliest  writer,  who  professes  to  furnish  any 
details  relating  to  the  fate  of  the  young  princes,  is 
Jean  Molinet,  a  contemporary,  who  died  in  1507. 
With  few  exceptions,  the  accounts  which  foreigners 
give  of  events  which  have  occurred  in  England 
must  be  received  with  caution,  if  not  with  mis- 
trust. Molinet,  however,  as  librarian  to  Margaret 
of  Austria  and  historiographer  to  the  house  of  Bur- 
gundy, may  be  presumed  to  have  been  in  a  position 
to  collect  tolerably  accurate  information  of  what 
was  transpiring  at  the  court  of  Richard.  Accord- 
ing to  his  account,  the  young  king,  impressed  with 
a  conviction  of  the  murderous  intentions  of  his 
uncle,  sank  into  a  state  of  deep  melancholy.  The 
younger  prince,  on  the  contrary,  is  described  as 
not  only  cheerful  and  gay,  but  as  enlivening  their 
prison-room  with  the  sports  and  gambols  of  child- 
hood, and  endeavouring  to  raise  the  spirits  of  his 
elder  brother  by  his  innocent  hilarity.  Attracted 
apparently  by  the  bright  insignia  of  the  order  of 
the  Garter,  which  the  young  king  was  still  allowed 
to  wear,  the  child,  during  his  capers  about  the 
apartment,  is  said  to  have  inquired  of  his  brother 


KING    RICHARD   THE  THIRD.  209 

why  he  did  not  learn  to  dance.  "  It  were  better," 
replied  the  elder  brother,  ' '  that  we  should  learn  to 
die,  for  I  fear  that  our  days  in  this  world  will  not 
be  long."  * 

The  brief  details  related  by  Molinet  are,  more- 
over, curiously  corroborative  of  the  more  recent,  but 
more  celebrated,  narrative  of  Sir  Thomas  More.f 
Both  writers  agree  in  their  accounts  of  the  state  of 
dejection  into  which  the  elder  prince  had  sunk ; 
both  agree  in  regard  to  a  more  important,  and 
much  disputed  point,  the  exact  date  at  which  the 
murders  were  committed.  According  to  Sir 
Thomas  More,  the  young  princes,  from  the  time  of 
their  uncle's  usurpation,  had  been  stripped  of  all 

*  Chroniques  de  Jean  Molinet,  in  Buchon's  Chron.  Nat.  Franc,  torn, 
xliv.  p.  402.  In  a  contemporary  letter,  dated  21st  June  1483,  the 
younger  prince  is  described  as  being,  "  blessed  be  Jesu,  merry."  Ex- 
cerp.  Hist.  p.  17. 

f  That  Sir  Thomas  More's  History  of  King  Kichard  III.  is  highly 
tinged  by  party  prejudice,  and  that  many  errors  and  inaccuracies  are  to 
be  found  in  it,  it  would  be  useless  to  deny.  Nevertheless,  the  work 
must  always  be  held  of  great  authority  and  importance,  not  only  from 
the  circumstance  of  Sir  Thomas  having  lived  so  near  to  the  times  of 
which  he  wrote,  and  from  the  excellent  means  which  he  had  of  acquir- 
ing the  truest  information,  but  because  it  is  impossible  to  believe  that 
the  great  and  upright  lord-chancellor — he  who  suffered  martyrdom  for 
the  sake  of  religion — would  knowingly  and  willingly  falsify  histori- 
cal truth.  More,  as  is  well  known,  was  in  his  youth  in  the  household 
of  Bishop  (afterwards  Cardinal)  Morton  ;  and  from  this  and  other  cir- 
cumstances, it  has  sometimes  been  supposed  that  the  cardinal,  in  fact, 
was  the  author  of  the  work,  and  More  merely  the  transcriber.  After 
all,  however,  this  is  little  more  than  conjecture.  See  Buck  in  Kennet, 
vol.  i.  pp.  546-7  ;  Sir  Henry  Ellis's  Preface  to  Hardyng*s  Chronicle ; 
Notes  and  Queries,  vol.  i.  p.  105,  2nd  Series. 


210  KING   EICHAED   THE  THIED. 

the  appurtenances  of  royalty.  From  that  day  till 
the  ' '  traitorous  deed ' '  was  accomplished,  the 
young  king  anticipated  the  worst.  "  Alas  !"  he  is 
said  to  have  exclaimed,  "would  that  mine  uncle 
would  let  me  have  my  life,  though  I  lose  my  king- 
dom?" Immured  together  in  close  confinement, 
deprived  of  the  familiar  faces  of  their  former  at- 
tendants, guarded  by  common  gaolers,  and  with 
only  one  grim  attendant,  William  Slaughter,  or 
' '  Black  Will, ' '  as  he  was  styled,  to  wait  upon 
them,* — the  misery  of  two  youths  so  highly 
born  and  so  delicately  nurtured  may  be  more  read- 
ily imagined  than  described.  According  to  tradi- 
tion, the  stronghold  in  which  the  young  princes  were 
immured,  after  their  removal  from  the  state  apart- 
ments in  the  Tower  of  London,  is  that  which  is  so 
familiarly  known  as  the  Bloody  Tower,  the  same 
which,  six  years  previously,  had  witnessed  the 
death-scene  of  the  unhappy  Clarence. 

P.  Edward.  Yet  before  we  go, 

One  question  more  with  you,  master  lieutenant. 
We  like  you  well ;  and,  but  we  do  perceive 
More  comfort  in  your  looks  than  in  these  walls, 
For  all  our  uncle  Gloster's  friendly  speech 
Our  hearts  would  be  as  heavy  still  as  lead. 
I  pray  you  tell  me  at  which  door  or  gate 
Was  it  my  uncle  Clarence  did  go  in, 
When  he  was  sent  a  prisoner  to  this  place  ? 

Brakenbury.     At  this,  my  liege  !     Why  sighs  your  majesty? 

*  Sir  T.  More,  Hist,  of  Richard  III.  p.  130. 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  211 

P.  Edward.    He  went  in  here  that  ne'er  came  back  again ! 
But  as  God  hath  decreed,  so  let  it  be  ! 
Come,  brother,  shall  we  go  ? 

P.  Richard.  Yes,  brother,  anywhere  with  you. 

Heywood's  King  Edward  IV.  Part  II.  Act  iii.  Sc.  2. 

Immured  in  this  gloomy  prison-house,  the  two 
brothers  are  described  as  clinging  together  in  the 
vain  hope  of  finding  comfort  in  each  other's  em- 
braces ;  as  neglecting  their  dress,  and  anticipating 
with  childhood's  horror  the  dark  doom  which 
awaited  them.  "The  prince,"  says  Sir  Thomas 
More,  ' '  never  tied  his  points  nor  aught  wrought 
of  himself ;  but  with  that  young  babe,  his  brother, 
lingered  in  thought  and  heaviness,  till  a  traitorous 
death  delivered  them  of  that  wretchedness."* 

P.  Richard.  How  does  your  lordship  ? 

P.  Edward.  Well,  good  brother  Eichard : 

How  does  yourself?     You  told  me  your  head  ached. 

P.  Richard.  Indeed  it  does,  my  lord  !  feel  with  your  hands 
How  hot  it  is ! 

P.  Edward.  Indeed  you  have  caught  cold, 
With  sitting  yesternight  to  hear  me  read  ; 
I  pray  thee  go  to  bed,  sweet  Dick  !  poor  little  heart ! 

P.  Richard.  You'll  give  me  leave  to  wait  upon  your  lordship  ? 

P.  Edward.  I  had  more  need,  brother,  to  wait  on  you  ; 
For  you  are  sick,  and  so  am  not  I. 

P.  Richard.  Oh,  lord !  methinks  this  going  to  our  bed, 
How  like  it  is  going  to  our  grave. 

P.  Edward.  1  pray  thee  do  not  speak  of  graves,  sweet  heart ; 
Indeed  thou  frightest  me. 

P.  Richard.  Why,  my  lord  brother,  did  not  our  tutor  teach  us, 
That  when  at  night  we  went  unto  our  bed, 
We  still  should  think  we  went  unto  our  grave  ? 

*Sir  T.  More,  Hist,  of  Richard  III.  p.  130. 


212  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

P.  Edward.  Yes,  that  is  true, 
If  we  should  do  as  every  Christian  ought 
To  be  prepared  to  die  at  every  hour. 
But  I  am  heavy. 

P.  Richard.        Indeed  so  am  I. 

P.  Edward.  Then  let  us  to  our  prayers  and  go  to  bed. 

Heywood's  King  Edward  IV.  Part  II.  Act  iii.  Sc.  5. 

Presuming  that  due  confidence  is  to  be  placed  in 
the  confession  said  to  have  been  made  by  Sir  James 
Tyrrell  in  the  following  reign,  Richard  was  on  his 
northern  progress,  and  was  approaching  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Gloucester,  when,  for  the  first  time,  he 
allowed  his  cruel  intentions,  in  regard  to  his 
nephews,  to  transpire.  At  this  time  the  constable 
of  the  Tower  was  his  former  friend  and  devoted 
adherent,  Sir  Robert  Brakenbury.  To  Brakenbury, 
accordingly,  the  king  despatched  one  of  his  crea- 
tures, John  Green,  furnishing  him  with  written 
orders  to  the  constable  to  put  the  two  princes  to 
death;  the  which  John  Green,  we  are  told,  "did 
his  errand  unto  Brakenbury,  kneeling  before  our 
Lady  in  the  Tower. ' '  In  the  mean  time  the  king 
had  advanced  as  far  as  Warwick,  where  he  was 
subsequently  rejoined  by  his  emissary  Green.*  The 

*  Sir  T.  More,  Hist  of  Richard  III.  pp.  127-8.  There  seems  to  be 
no  difficulty  in  fixing  the  date  of  Green's  mission  as  the  beginning  of 
August.  The  king  reached  Reading  shortly  after  the  23rd  of  July ; 
made  a  short  stay  at  Oxford ;  proceeded  from  thence  to  Gloucester,  and 
eventually  reached  Tewkesbury  on  the  4th  of  August.  Before  the  8th 
of  August  he  was  at  Warwick.  Green,  though  Lord  Bacon  speaks  of 
him  as  a  "  page,"  was  probably  a  gentleman  of  good  family,  holding  not 
the  menial  appointment  of  a  page  of  the  chamber,  but  that  of  an  esquire 


KING    RICHARD    THE   THIRD.  213 

answer  which  the  latter  brought  him  from  Braken- 
bury  occasioned  him  great  displeasure.  The  con- 
stable, it  seems  had  more  gentleness  in  his  nature 
than  to  commit  so  foul  a  crime,  and,  accordingly, 
had  peremptorily,  though  doubtless  respectfully, 
refused  to  obey  the  orders  of  his  king. 

That  night,  as  the  king  paced  his  apartment  in 
the  noble  castle  of  Warwick,  he  was  unable  to  con- 
ceal the  perturbation  of  his  mind  from  the  favourite 
page  who  was  in  attendance  on  him.  Some  queru- 
lous remarks  which  escaped  him,  intimating  how 
little  trust  he  could  place  even  in  those  on  whom  he 
had  heaped  the  greatest  favours,  induced  the  page 

of  the  body,  which  would  place  him  in  immediate  attendance  on  the 
person  of  his  sovereign.  For  instance,  in  the  ordinances  for  the  govern- 
ment of  the  household  of  Edward  IV.,  we  find  esquires  of  the  body 
denoted  as  "  noble  of  condition,  whereof  always  two  be  attendant  upon 
the  king's  person  to  array  and  unarray  him,"  &c. — Royal  Household 
Ordinances}  p.  36.  Again,  in  the  reign  of  Henry  VII. :  "  The  esquires 
of  the  body  ought  to  array  the  king,  and  unarray  him,  and  no  man  else 
to  set  hand  on  the  king ;  and  if  it  please  the  king  to  have  a  pallet  with- 
out his  traverse,  there  must  be  two  esquires  for  the  body,  or  else  a 
knight  for  the  body,  to  lie  there,  or  else  in  the  next  chamber." — Ibid.  p. 
118.  The  duties  of  the  page,  on  the  contrary,  appear  to  have  been 
those  of  the  commonest  menial.  "  Pages  of  the  chamber  [temp. 
Edward  IV.],  besides  the  both  wardrobes,  to  wait  upon  and  to  keep 
clean  the  king's  chamber,  and  most  honest  from  faults  of  hounds,  as  of 
other;  and  to  help  truss,  and  clean  harness,  cloth,  sacks,  and  other 
things  necessary,  as  they  be  commanded  by  such  as  are  above  them," 
&c. — Ibid.  p.  41.  That  a  person,  whose  province  it  was  to  discharge 
these  mean  offices,  should  not  only  have  been  admitted  by  Richard  to 
familiar  intercourse  with  him,  but  that  he  should  have  been  selected  to 
be  the  confidant  of  his  terrible  intentions,  appears  to  be  in  the  highest 
degree  improbable. 


214  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

to  address  himself  to  his  royal  master.  He  knew  a 
man,  he  said,  who  was  lying  on  a  pallet  in  the 
outer  chamber,  who  at  all  hazards  wonld  execute 
his  grace's  pleasure.  The  individual  to  whom  he 
alluded  was  Sir  James  Tyrrell,  a  man  who  had 
achieved  a  high  reputation  for  personal  courage, 
but  whose  estimate  of  the  value  of  human  life,  and 
of  the  importance  of  virtuous  actions,  was  clearly 
of  the  lowest  stamp.  Like  Sir  Richard  Ratcliffe 
and  Catesby,  he  had  been  a  follower  and  a  friend  of 
the  usurper  in  former  days.  To  his  extreme  mortifi- 
cation he  had  seen  those  persons  preferred  to  higher 
favours  or  higher  posts  than  had  fallen  to  his  own 
share ;  and,  accordingly,  jealousy  of  the  success  of 
others,  as  well  as  an  innate  craving  for  wealth  and 
distinction,  predisposed  him  to  become  a  ready  tool 
in  the  hands  of  his  sovereign.*  Well  pleased  with 
his  attendant's  suggestion,  Richard  forthwith  pro- 
ceeded to  the  outer  apartment,  where  lay  Sir  James 
and  his  brother  Sir  Thomas.  "What,  sirs,"  he 
said  merrily,  "be  ye  in  bed  so  soon?"  He  then 
ordered  Sir  James  to  follow  him  into  his  own  cham- 
ber, where  he  imparted  to  him  the  terrible  purpose 
for  which  he  required  his  services.  The  commission 
is  said  to  have  been  accepted  without  the  slightest 
hesitation.  Accordingly,  on  the  following  day 
Tyrrell  set  out  for  London,  carrying  with  him  a 
written  order  from  the  king  to  Sir  Robert  Braken- 

*  Sir  T.  More's  Richard  III.  pp.  128-9. 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  215 

bury  to  deliver  up  the  keys  of  the  Tower  to  Tyrrell 
for  a  single  night.* 

Having  made  the  necessary  communication  to 
Brakenbury,  Tyrrell  fixed  upon  "the  night  next  en- 
suing ' '  as  the  fittest  time  for  carrying  out  his  terrible 
purpose.  The  shedding  of  blood  might  obviously 
have  led  to  the  detection  of  his  projected  guilt,  and 
it  was  probably  for  this  reason  that  he  decided  on 
the  safer  method  of  suffocating  the  young  princes 
in  their  sleep.  In  the  mean  time,  Tyrrell  had  con- 
trived to  secure  the  services  of  two  ferocious  adepts 
in  villany,  one  John  Dighton,  his  own  horsekeeper, 
a  "big,  broad,  square,  and  strong  knave,"  and  one 
Miles  Forrest,  a  ' '  fellow  bef oretime  fleshed  in  mur- 
der. ' '  In  the  dead  of  the  night,  these  two  miscre- 
ants stole  into  the  apartment  in  which  the  two 
young  princes  lay  together  in  the  same  bed.  The 
younger  prince  is  said  to  have  been  awake  at 
the  time.  Guessing  the  horrible  purpose  of  the 
intruders,  he  roused  his  brother,  exclaiming, 
"Wake,  brother,  for  they  are  here  who  come  to 
kill  thee!"  Then  turning  to  the  executioners, — 
"Why  do  you  not  kill  me?  "  said  the  child  :  "  kill 
me,  and  let  him  live  !"f  The  appeal  was  made  in 
vain.  In  an  instant,  the  innocent  heirs  of  the 
proudest  house  which  ever  held  sway  in  England 
were  wrapped  and  entangled  in  the  bedclothes. 

*  Sir  T.  More's  Kichard  III.  pp.  129-30. 
f  Chroniques  de  Molinet,  ut  supra,  p.  402. 


216  KIXG    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

Then  came  the  painful  climax  described  by  Sir 
Thomas  More, — the  assassins  pressing  the  feather- 
bed and  pillows  over  the  mouths  of  their  victims, 
till,  smothered  and  stilled  and  their  breath  failing, 
they  gave  up  to  God  their  innocent  souls  unto  the 
joys  of  heaven,  leaving  to  their  tormentors  their 
bodies  dead  in  the  bed."*  The  murderers  then 
called  in  their  employer,  in  order  that  he  might 
satisfy  himself  that  the  work  of  death  was  complete. 
Tyrrell  waited  only  to  give  orders  respecting  the 
interment  of  the  princes,  and  then  rode  in  all  haste 
to  his  royal  master  at  York.f 

"  Tyrrell.     The  tyrannous  and  bloody  act  is  done ; 

The  most  arch  deed  of  piteous  massacre 

That  ever  yet  this  land  was  guilty  of. 

Dighton  and  Forrest,  whom  I  did  suborn 

To  do  this  piece  of  ruthless  butchery, 

Albeit  they  were  fleshed  villains,  bloody  dogs, 

Melting  with  tenderness  and  mild  compassion, 

Wept  like  to  children,  in  their  death's  sad  story. 

'  O  thus,'  quoth  Dighton,  '  lay  the  gentle  babes ;  '— 

'Thus,  thus,'  quoth  Forrest,  'girdling  one  another 

Within  their  alabaster  innocent  arms; 

Their  lips  were  four  red  roses  on  a  stalk, 

And,  in  their  summer  beauty,  kissed  each  other. 

*  Sir  T.  More's  Eichard  III.  pp.  130-1. 

|  From  the  statement  of  Sir  Thomas  More,  as  well  as  from  a  compari- 
son of  dates,  the  crime  would  seem  to  have  been  committed  about  the 
middle  of  August.  Eous  (Hist.  Keg.  Ang.  p.  215)  intimates  that  it  took 
place  somewhat  more  than  three  months  after  Eichard  had  waited  on 
the  young  king  at  Stony  Stratford  (viz.  the  30th  of  April),  and  Molinet 
at  five  weeks  from  the  time  that  the  young  princes  were  treated  as 
prisoners.  Chroniques,  p.  402.  The  dates,  therefore,  assigned  by  these 
three  writers,  very  nearly  agree. 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  217 

A  book  of  prayers  on  their  pillow  lay ; 

Which  once,'  quoth  Forrest,  'almost  changed  my  mind  ; 

But,  O,  the  devil ! ' — there  the  villain  stopped  ; 

When  Dighton  thus  told  on  :  '  We  smothered 

The  most  replenished  sweet  work  of  nature, 

That,  from  the  prime  creation,  e'er  she  framed.' 

Hence  both  are  gone  with  conscience  and  remorse 

They  could  not  speak ;  and  so  I  left  them  both, 

To  bear  this  tidings  to  the  bloody  king." 

King  Richard  III.  Act  iv.  Sc.  3. 

In  accordance  with  the  orders  issued  by  Sir 
James  Tyrrell  to  Dighton  and  Forrest,  the  young 
princes  are  said  to  have  been  interred  ' '  at  the  stair- 
foot,  metely  deep  in  the  ground,  under  a  great  heap 
of  stones."*  One  might  have  imagined  that,  so 
long  as  their  graves  disclosed  no  secrets,  Richard 
would  have  troubled  himself  but  little  in  regard 
either  to  the  mode  or  the  place  of  his  nephews' 
burial.  On  the  contrary,  however,  he  is  said  to 
have  exhibited  a  strange  displeasure  at  no  greater 
respect  having  been  shown  to  their  remains,  and  to 
have  even  given  orders  for  their  being  disinterred 
and  placed  in  consecrated  ground.  ' '  Whereupon, ' ' 
says  Sir  Thomas  More,  "they  say  a  priest  of  Sir 
Robert  Brakenbury's  took  up  the  bodies  again  and 
secretly  interred  them  in  such  place  as,  by  the 
occasion  of  his  death  which  only  knew  it,  could 
never  since  come  to  light. ' '  f  More  than  two  cen- 
turies passed  away  from  the  date  of  their  death, 
when,  in  the  reign  of  Charles  II.,  in  "  taking  away 

*Sir  T.  More,  Hist,  of  Richard  III.  p.  131. 
f  Ibid.  p.  132, 


218  KING   EICHAED   THE   THIRD. 

the  stairs  which  led  from  t?ie  royal  lodgings  to  the 
chapel  of  the  White  Tower,"  *  there  were  discov- 
ered, about  ten  feet  in  the  ground,  on  the  south 
side  of  the  White  Tower,  the  remains  of  two  human 
beings,  corresponding  in  sex  and  age  with  what 
might  be  presumed  to  be  those  of  the  murdered 
princes. f  Either,  then,  the  king's  orders  were  for 
some  reason  disobeyed,  and  consequently  the  spot 
in  which  the  remains  were  found  was  the  original 
' '  stair-foot ' '  in  which  Dighton  and  Forrest  depos- 
ited them ;  or  else,  which  is  more  probable,  the 
persons,  who  were  intrusted  with  the  second  inter- 
ment of  the  unfortunate  princes,  considered  the 
staircase  leading  to  the  chapel  royal  as  no  less  con- 
secrated ground  than  the  chapel  itself,  and  thus  in 
spirit  carried  out  the  king's  injunctions,  by  bury- 
ing them  beneath  it. 

The  further  fact  of  the  bodies  having  been  dis- 
covered at  the  foot  of  the  staircase  leading  from  the 
royal  apartments  to  the  chapel  royal,  is  not  with- 
out its  significance.  Tradition,  as  we  have  already 
mentioned,  points  out  the  Bloody  Tower  as  having 
witnessed  the  death-scene  of  the  innocent  princes. 

*  Wren's  Parentalia,  p.  283. 

f  Sandford's  Geneal.  Hist,  book  v.  pp.  427-9.  Sandford  received  his 
account  of  the  disinterment  from  an  eye-witness  who  was  engaged  in 
the  investigation.  The  discovery  took  place  in  1674.  In  Wren's 
Parentalia  (p.  283)  will  be  found  the  warrant  from  Charles  II.  to  Sir 
Christopher  Wren,  then  surveyor  of  the  works,  to  reinter  the  bones,  in 
"a  white  marble  coffin,"  in  Westminster  Abbey. 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  219 

From  their  high  rank,  however,  we  are  more  in- 
clined to  think  that  they  perished  in  one  of  the 
royal  apartments  of  the  Tower  or  in  some  chamber 
close  adjoining  them,  than  in  the  miserable  dun- 
geon which  is  still  pointed  out  as  having  been  their 
prison-house,  and  at  the  "stair-foot "  of  which  gos- 
sip still  idly  indicates  that  their  remains  were  eventu- 
ally discovered.*  But  to  whomsoever  those  relics 
of  humanity  may  have  belonged,  it  seems  evident 
they  were  those  of  no  ordinary  persons,  and,  more- 
over, that  they  were  the  remains  of  persons  who 
had  met  with  a  violent  end.  In  those  days,  it  may 
be  mentioned,  there  was  a  direct  communication 
between  the  royal  apartments  at  the  southeast 
angle  of  the  fortress,  and  the  state  apartments,  and 
the  chapel  in  the  White  Tower.  It  was  apparently, 
then,  at  the  foot  of  the  very  stairs, — which,  when 
the  sovereign  held  his  court  in  the  Tower,  he  was 
daily  in  the  habit  of  ascending  for  the  purpose  of 
offering  up  his  devotions  in  the  chapel  royal — that 

*  On  the  ground  floor  of  the  White  Tower,  immediately  below  the 
chapel,  are  three  apartments,  on  the  walls  of  which  may  still  be  seen 
more  than  one  interesting  inscription,  engraved  by  the  unhappy  prison- 
ers who  formerly  tenanted  them.  These  apartments,  from  their  having 
almost  adjoined  the  palatial  chambers  of  the  fortress,  and  also  from 
their  close  vicinity  to  the  spot  in  which  the  bodies  were  discovered} 
were  not  impossibly  those  in  which  the  princes  were  imprisoned  and 
murdered.  Certainly,  it  was  not  till  the  latter  end  of  the  reign  of 
Elizabeth,  that  the  Bloody  Tower  received  its  present  name.  It  had 
previously  been  styled  the  Garden  Tower.  Bayley's  Tower  of  London- 
p.  257.  See  Appendix  B. 


220  KING   RICHARD    THE   THIRD. 

the  remains  were  discovered.  That  such  a  spot 
should  have  been  selected  for  the  interment  of  the 
dead, — unless  for  the  purpose  of  preserving  a 
weighty  secret  and  concealing  a  fearful  crime, — it 
would  be  difficult,  we  think,  to  imagine.  To  what 
other  conclusion,  then,  can  we  reasonably  arrive, 
but  that  the  bones,  which  were  discovered  and  ex- 
humed in  the  seventeenth  century,  were  no  other 
than  those  of  the  murdered  sons  of  King  Edward 
IV.  ?  It  may  be  mentioned  that  Charles  II.  caused 
them  to  be  collected  and  placed  in  a  sarcophagus 
of  white  marble,  which  may  be  seen  in  the  south 
aisle  of  Henry  VII. 's  chapel  at  Westminster. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

THE   GOOD    DEEDS   AND     THE   REMORSE   OF     RICHARD 
OF   GLOUCESTER. 

ll/TANY  ingenious  attempts  have  been  made  to 
relieve  the  character  of  Richard  III.  from  so 
atrocious  a  crime  as  the  murder  of  his  nephews. 
Of  the  arguments  which  have  been  adduced  in  his 
favour,  the  most  important  are  those  which  tend  to 
support  the  presumption  that  at  least  one,  if  not 
both,  of  the  two  princes  escaped  from  the  Tower, 
and  that  the  individual  who  afterwards  figured  so 
conspicuously,  under  the  name  of  Perkin  Warbeck, 
was  in  reality  Richard  Duke  of  York. 

Unquestionably,  the  story  of  that  mysterious  ad- 
venturer, if  adventurer  he  were,  merits  inquiry  and 
consideration.  That  an  obscure  youth  should  have 
found  means  to  shake  one  of  the  most  powerful 
thrones  in  Europe ;  that  the  kings  of  France  and 
of  Scotland  should  not  only  have  acknowledged  him 
to  be  the  heir  to  the  throne  of  England,  but  should 
have  caressed  and  entertained  him  at  their  courts 
with  all  the  honors  due  to  sovereign  heads ;  that  the 
Scottish  monarch  should  have  been  so  satisfied  that 
his  guest  was  the  real  Duke  of  York,  that  he  gave 

221 


222  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

him  in  marriage  his  beautiful  and  near  kinswoman, 
the  Lady  Katherine  Douglas,  and  invaded  England 
with  an  army  for  the  purpose  of  placing  him  on 
the  throne  of  the  Plantagenets ;  that  the  putative 
son  of  a  Belgian  Jew  should  not  only  have  been 
gifted  with  a  dignity  of  mien  and  a  refinement  of 
manner  which  were  admitted  and  admired  even  by 
the  most  fastidious,  but  that  his  features  should 
have  borne  a  remarkable  resemblance  to  the  beauti- 
ful prince  whom  he  claimed  to  have  been  his  father ; 
that  he  should  have  won  the  favour  of  the  people 
of  Ireland,  and  that  the  nobles  of  England  should 
have  raised  their  standards  in  his  cause ;  that  the 
lord-chamberlain,  Sir  William  Stanley,  the 
wealthiest  subject  in  England  and  connected  by 
marriage  with  Henry  VII. ,  should  not  only  have 
embarked  in  it,  but  have  suffered  death  in  conse- 
quence on  the  scaffold;  and,  lastly,  that  the 
Duchess  of  Burgundy,  the  sister  of  the  late  king, 
should  not  only  have  received  Warbeck  with  all 
honour  at  her  court,  but  have  acknowledged  him 
as  her  nephew  in  the  face  of  Europe, — are  facts 
which  not  only  continue  to  excite  curiosity  and  in- 
vestigation in  our  own  time,  but  seem,  at  one 
period,  to  have  raised  doubts,  if  not  apprehensions, 
even  in  the  mind  of  Henry  himself.* 

*  See  Carte's  Hist,  of  Engl.  vol.  ii.  p.  854,  &c. ;  Historic  Doubts, 
Lord  Orford's  Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  155,  &c. ;  Laing's  Dissertation  in 
Henry's  Hist,  of  England,  vol.  xii.  p.  431,  App. ;  Bayley's  Hist,  of  the 
Tower  of  London,  p.  335,  <&c. 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  223 

But  curious  as  these  arguments  undoubtedly  are, 
they  may  be  met  by  others  equally  weighty.  If 
Charles  of  France  acknowledged  Warbeck  to  be  the 
rightful  heir  to  the  throne  of  England,  let  it  be  re- 
membered that  it  was  at  a  time  when  it  was  clearly 
his  object  to  distress  and  embarrass  Henry,  and 
further  that,  when  that  motive  ceased  to  exist,  he  at 
once  repudiated  the  adventurer.  Neither  is  it 
clear  that  the  conduct  of  James  of  Scotland  was 
altogether  disinterested.*  Certain  at  least  it  is, 
that  Warbeck  secretly  covenanted  to  deliver  up  to 
him  the  important  city  of  Berwick,  and  to  pay  him 
fifty  thousand  marks  in  two  years,  in  the  event  of 
his  succeeding  in  dethroning  Henry,  f  Moreover, 
the  favour  shown  him  by  the  Anglo-Irish  can 
hardly  be  taken  into  serious  account.  A  people 
who,  a  short  time  previously,  had  crowned  Lam- 

*  Ellis's  Orig.  Letters,  First  Series,  vol.  i.  p.  26 ;  Pinkerton's  Hist, 
of  Scotl.  vol.  ii.  pp.  2,  26.  Tytler  seems  to  be  of  opinion  that  James 
was  accessory  to  Warbeck's  imposition  at  a  much  earlier  period  than 
has  been  usually  supposed,  and  although  at  the  time  he  believed  him 
to  be  an  adventurer,  yet  he  was  afterwards  induced  to  change  his 
opinion.  Hist,  of  Scotl.  vol.  iii.  p.  474.  A  contemporary  writer,  more- 
over, whose  authority  is  of  value,  tends  to  confirm  the  supposition  that 
James,  at  one  period  at  least,  believed  Warbeck  to  be  the  genuine  Duke 
of  York.  "  Rex  errore  deceptus,  ut  plerique  alii,  etiam  prudentissimi."  ' 
—B.  Andreas,  Vita  Hen.  VII.  p.  70. 

f  And  yet,  in  the  declaration  which  Warbeck  published  on  entering 
Northumberland  with  a  Scottish  army,  we  find  him  having  the  confi- 
dence solemnly  to  call  the  Almighty  to  witness  that  "  his  dearest  cousin 
the  King  of  Scotland's  aiding  him  in  person  in  this  his  righteous 
quarrel,  was  without  any  pact  or  promise,  or  so  much  as  a  demand  of 
anything  prejudicial  to  his  crown  or  subjects." — Carte,  vol.  ii.  p.  849. 


KIXG   KICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

bert  Simnel  in  Christchurch  Cathedral,  Dublin, 
with  a  diadem  taken  from  an  image  of  the  Virgin, 
were  doubtless  predisposed  to  hail  with  enthusiasm 
a  far  more  plausible  and  fascinating  pretender. 
Again,  the  fact  of  the  Duchess  of  Burgundy  having 
acknowledged  AVarbeck  as  her  nephew,  is  not  a 
little  shorn  of  its  importance  by  her  having  for- 
merly supported  the  imposture  of  Simnel.*  Her 
aversion  to  the  new  rule  in  England  inclined  her  to 
adopt  any  expedient  that  might  weaken  the  gov- 
ernment of  Henry  VII.  The  duchess,  as  we  find 
Henry  himself  complaining  in  a  letter  to  Sir  Gilbert 
Talbot,  had  formerly  shown  her  malice  ' '  by  sending 
hither  one  feigned  boy, ' '  and  now,  ' '  eftsoons, ' ' 
she  must  needs  send  over  ' '  another  feigned  lad, 
called  Perkin  Warbeck."f 

Warbeck,  in  fact,  would  seem  to  have  been 
merely  one  of  a  series  of  impostors,  whom,  from 
time  to  time,  the  secret  machinations  of  a  powerful 
and  well-organized  faction  in  England  called  into 
political  existence,  for  the  purpose  of  crippling  and, 
if  possible,  uprooting  the  Tudor  dynasty.  The 
individual,  in  whom  their  hopes  and  fears  were 
really  centred,  and  whom  they  would  willingly 
have  placed  on  the  throne  in  lieu  of  Henry,  appears 
to  have  been  the  Earl  of  "Warwick,  who,  after  the 
death  of  his  uncle,  King  Richard,  had  become  the 

*  Lord  Bacon's  Henry  VII.  in  Kennet,  vol.  i.  pp.  585-6. 
|  Ellis's  Orig.  Letters,  First  Series,  vol.  i.  pp.  19,  20. 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  225 

last  male  heir  of  the  great  house  of  Plantagenet.* 
If  the  pretensions  of  Warwick  had  formerly  been 
regarded  in  so  formidable  a  light,  both  by  Edward 
IV.  and  Richard  III. ,  that  they  kept  him  either 
closely  watched  or  else  in  durance,  how  much 
greater  apprehension  were  they  calculated  to  inspire 
in  the  mind  of  a  monarch  who  owed  his  crown 
neither  to  blood  nor  to  election,  but  to  the  hateful 
pretext  of  conquest,  and  to  a  marriage  which  he 
had  off ensively  postponed  from  time  to  time  ! 

At  the  period  when  Warbeck  appeared  on  the 
stage,  the  government  of  Henry  VII.  had  become 
extremely  unpopular  among  the  aristocratic  and 
commercial  classes  in  England,  and  still  more  un- 
popular with  the  clergy.  By  the  former,  Henry's 
defective  title  to  the  throne,  his  spurious  descent 
from  John  of  Gaunt  and  Catherine  Swynford,  the 
questionable  legitimacy  of  his  queen,  and  the  blood 
of  the  obscure  and  obnoxious  Woodvilles  which 
flowed  in  her  veins,  seem  to  have  been  regarded 
as  unpardonable  offences.  In  the  eyes  of  the  high- 
born partisans  of  the  house  of  York,  Henry's  only 
title  to  the  crown  was  derived  from  his  queen,  and, 
moreover,  in  the  opinion  of  many  persons,  that  title 

*  Lord  Bacon,  speaking  of  Lambert  Simnel,  observes :  "  And  for 
the  person  of  the  counterfeit,  it  was  agreed  that,  if  all  things  succeeded 
well,  he  should  be  put  down,  and  the  true  Plantagenet  received."— 
Life  of  Henry  VII.  in  Kennet,  vol.  i.  p.  586.  Doubtless  it  was  intended 
to  pursue  the  same  course  towards  Perkin  Warbeck,  in  the  event  of  his 
enterprise  proving  successful. 


226  KING   RICHARD   THE  THIRD. 

was  a  very  obnoxious  one.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
Earl  of  Warwick  could  boast  an  irreproachable 
descent  in  the  male  line,  from  a  long  and  illus- 
trious race  of  kings.  In  him  were  centred  the 
pure  blood  of  the  Plantagenets,  the  Beauchamps, 
and  the  Nevilles.  But  Warwick  was  unhappily  a 
prisoner  in  the  hands  of  Henry,  and,  consequently, 
any  public  declaration  of  his  rights,  or  any  insur- 
rection in  his  favour,  would  doubtless  have  been  the 
signal  for  sending  him  to  the  scaffold.  With  the 
double  object,  then,  of  harassing  the  government 
of  Henry,  and,  at  the  same  time,  screening  War- 
wick, were  called  into  political  existence,  such  con- 
venient scapegoats  as  Lambert  Simnel,  Perkin 
Warbeck,  and  Ralph  Wilford.  Should  they  fail, 
their  miscarriage  would  in  no  way  have  jeopardized 
the  life  of  Warwick,  whereas,  had  any  one  of  them 
succeeded  in  his  enterprise,  it  would  have  been 
easy  enough  to  have  set  the  impostor  aside,  and  to 
have  conducted  the  true  Plantagenet  from  a  prison 
to  the  throne.* 

As  regards  Warbeck  personally,  many  arguments 
might  be  adduced  tending  to  the  conviction  that 
he  was  an  impostor.  No  evidence  of  his  having 
been  the  son  of  Edward  IV.  was  ever  produced  by 

*  "This  at  least  is  certain,"  writes  Lingard,  "that  as  long  as  War- 
wick lived,  pretenders  to  the  crown  rapidly  succeeded  each  other : 
after  his  execution,  Henry  was  permitted  to  reign  without  molestation." 
— Hist,  of  Enc/l.  vol.  iv.  p.  584,  App. 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  227 

lii/n.  Of  those  persons,  who,  according  to  his  own 
romantic  account,  either  assisted  him  to  escape  from 
the  Tower,  or  afterwards  supported  him  in  a  foreign 
land,  not  one  came  forward  either  to  substantiate 
his  tale,  or  to  claim  the  reward  which  they  had 
earned  by  having  rendered  so  important  a  service  to 
the  heir  of  England.  There  is  reason,  moreover, 
for  believing  that  Warbeck  had  his  lesson  less  ac- 
curately by  heart  than  has  usually  been  supposed  ;* 
and,  lastly, — unless  his  confession,  printed  by  com- 
mand of  Henry,  is  to  be  regarded  as  an  impudent 
fabrication, — Warbeck  himself  unhesitatingly  ad- 
mitted that  he  was  an  impostor,  f  It  has  been  ar- 
gued, that  Henry's  remissness  in  collecting  and  pub- 

*  In  a  letter  from  Warbeck  to  Queen  Isabella  of  Castile,  in  which 
correctness  was  of  the  utmost  importance  to  him,  he  shows  himself  so 
indifferently  acquainted  with  the  age  of  the  individual  whom  he  was 
personifying,  as  to  represent  himself  as  having  been  nearly  nine,  in- 
stead of  eleven,  years  of  age  at  the  time  when  he  insisted  that  he  had 
escaped  from  the  Tower.  For  this  interesting  letter  and  important  fact 
we  are  indebted  to  the  valuable  researches  of  Sir  Frederick  Madden. 
See  Archseologia,  vol.  xxvii.  pp.  156,  161.  The  Duke  of  York  was  born 
on  the  17th  of  August  1472.  The  date  of  his  presumed  assassination 
we  have  ventured  to  place  in  the  middle  of  August  1483.  See  ante,  p. 
216,  note. 

f  The  genuineness  of  Perkin  Warbeck's  confession  has  occasionally 
been  disputed.  The  remarkable  fact,  however,  pointed  out  by  Sir  Fred- 
erick Madden  in  the  Archrcologia,  on  the  authority  of  Bernard  Andreas, 
thai  the  confession  was  actually  printed  at  the  time,  of  course  by  the 
authority  and  license  of  Henry,  proves  it  to  be  a  state  document  of  the 
highest  importance.  "  Rex  imprimi  demandavit." — B.  Andreas,  Vit. 
Hen.  VII.  p.  14 ;  Arch.  vol.  xxvii.  p.  164.  For  Warbeck's  confession, 
see  Hall,  pp.  448,  449  ;  Grafton,  vol.  ii.  p.  218 ;  and  Henry's  Hist,  of 
England,  vol.  xii.  p.  392,  Appendix. 


228  KING   EICHARD    THE   THIRD. 

lishing  proofs  of  Warbeck's  imposition,  furnishes 
presumptive  evidence  either  that  the  English  mon- 
arch had  no  case  at  all,  or  else  that  it  was  so  weak 
a  one  that  he  was  afraid  to  submit  it  to  the  judg- 
ment of  his  subjects.  But  if  Henry,  after  all  his 
inquiries,  really  believed  that  Warbeck  was  the  true 
Duke  of  York,  would  so  merciless  a  monarch,  as 
he  is  usually  represented  to  have  been,  have  spared 
the  life  of  his  foe,  when  on  two  different  occasions 
he  held  him  in  his  power?  If  Henry  had  scrupled 
not  to  send  his  friend  and  benefactor,  Sir  William 
Stanley,  to  the  block  for  abetting  the  pretensions  of 
Warbeck,  is  it  likely  that  he  would  have  shown 
greater  mercy  to  Warbeck  himself?  If  he  believed 
in  the  truth  of  Warbeck's  story,  would  he  have  ex- 
posed him  to  the  curious  and  pitying  gaze  of  the 
citizens  of  London?  Would  he  twice  have  exhib- 
ited in  the  public  stocks  the  handsome  youth 
whom  many  living  persons  must  have  beheld  in  his 
boyhood,  the  son  of  the  magnificent  monarch  whose 
affability  and  good  nature  still  endeared  him  to 
their  hearts  ?  Would  Henry  have  allowed  him  to 
wander  about  for  months  within  the  precincts  of 
the  palace,  liable  at  any  moment  to  be  recognized, 
and  greeted  as  their  brother,  by  the  queen  and  her 
younger  sisters?  Lastly,  if  Warbeck  had  been  the 
important  personage  which  he  represented  himself 
to  be,  is  it  possible  to  believe  that  so  stern  and 
jealous  a  monarch  as  Henry  would  have  suffered 


KING   RICHARD    THE   Til  HID.  229 

him  to  be  so  insufficiently  guarded,  or  so  carelessly 
watched,  that  the  pretender  was  enabled  to  slip  into 
a  sanctuary  wThen  it  suited  his  purpose? 

The  real  fact  appears  to  have  been  that,  however 
threatening  at  its  outset  was  Warbeck's  conspiracy, 
it  was  confined,  in  England  and  Ireland  at  least, 
within  much  narrower  limits  than  has  usually  been 
supposed.  When  once  apprized  of  the  real  extent, 
or  rather  of  the  insignificance  of  the  danger,  we 
find  Henry  treating  the  pretensions  of  Warbeck— 
the  g argon,  as  he  twice  styles  him  in  his  communi- 
cations with  the  court  of  France — with  the  utmost 
unconcern  and  contempt.*  To  this  contempt,— 
added  perhaps  to  a  wise  disinclination  on  the  part 
of  the  king  to  convert  an  impostor  into  a  martyr, 
as  well  as  to  the  singular  interest  which  both  Henry 
and  his  queen  seem  to  have  taken  in  Warbeck's 
beautiful  wife,  the  Lady  Catherine, — the  pretender 
was  probably  indebted  for  the  clemency,  which,  as 
a  notorious  and  convicted  rebel,  he  had  little  reason 
to  anticipate.  It  was  not  till  Henry  had  ascertained 
that  Warbeck  was  carrying  on  a  secret  correspond- 
ence with  the  Earl  of  Warwick,  the  only  person 
whose  pretensions  to  the  crown  he  had  reason  to 
dread ;  not  till  he  discovered  the  experienced  and 
accomplished  adventurer  plotting  with  the  last 
male  heir  of  the  house  of  Plantagenet  to  effect 
their  escape  from  the  Tower  and  to  subvert  his 

*  Archseologia,  vol.  xxvii.  pp.  165,  167. 


230  KING    RICHARD    THE   THIRD. 

government, — that  the  sternest  of  the  Tudors 
handed  over  his  rival  to  the  executioner.  Then, 
indeed,  he  sent  Warwick  to  suffer  an  honourable 
death  by  the  axe  on  Tower  Hill,  leaving  War- 
beck  to  perish  on  the  common  gibbet  at 
Tyburn. 

But  even  allowing  Perkin  Warbeck  to  have  been 
the  real  Duke  of  York,  such  an  admission,  instead 
of  relieving  the  memory  of  Richard  from  the  crime 
of  murder,  tends,  on  the  other  hand,  we  conceive, 
more  directly  to  establish  his  guilt.  For  instance, 
if  Warbeck  had  been  a  true  Plantagenet,  surely, 
instead  of  blackening  the  memory  of  his  uncle,  by 
charging  him  with  the  foulest  of  crimes,  he  would 
have  done  his  utmost  to  vindicate  the  honour  of  the 
illustrious  line  of  which  he  claimed  to  be  the  repre- 
sentative. But  what  was  the  story  which  he  re- 
lated to  the  King  of  Scotland?  From  the  nursery, 
he  said,  he  had  been  carried  to  a  sanctuary,  from  a 
sanctuary  to  a  prison,  and  from  a  prison  he  had 
been  delivered  over  to  the  hands  of  the  "tor- 
mentor." Thirsting  for  the  crown  of  his  elder 
brother,  their  ' '  unnatural  uncle, ' '  proceeded  War- 
beck,  employed  an  assassin  to  murder  them  in  the 
Tower.  But  the  projected  crime  was  only  half 
completed.  The  young  king,  he  said,  was  "  cruelly 
slain  ; ' '  but  the  assassin,  either  sated  with  blood,  or 
actuated  by  some  more  amiable  motive,  not  only 
spared  the  life  of  the  younger  brother,  but  assisted 


KING   EICHARD  THE  THIRD.  231 

him  to  escape  beyond  the  sea.*  The  genuineness 
of  this  reputed  conversation  appears  to  be  borne 
out  by  two  very  remarkable  documents,  which 
emanated  directly  from  Warbeck  himself. 
''Whereas,"  says  Warbeck  in  his  proclamation 
to  the  English  people,  "we,  in  our  tender  years, 
escaped,  by  God's  great  might,  out  of  the  Tower  of 
London,  and  were  secretly  conveyed  over  the  sea  to 
other  divers  countries,  "f  And  again  he  writes  to 
Isabella  of  Castile, — "  Whereas,  the  Prince  of 
Wales,  eldest  son  of  Edward,  formerly  king  of 
England,  of  pious  memory,  my  dearest  lord  and 
brother  was  miserably  put  to  deatli,  and  I  myself, 
then  nearly  nine  years  of  age,  was  also  delivered  to 
a  certain  lord  to  be  killed :  [but]  it  pleased  the 
divine  clemency,  that  that  lord,  having  compassion 
on  my  innocence,  preserved  me  alive  and  in 
safety.":}:  Admitting,  then,  the  truthfulness  of 
Warbeck' s  statement,  to  what  other  conclusion  can 
we  arrive  than  that  Richard  contemplated  the 
murder  of  both  his  nephews,  although  he  was 
virtually  the  murderer  only  of  one?  The  blood  of 
only  one  may  have  been  actually  on  his  head,  but, 
according  to  every  principle  human  and  divine,  the 

*  Lord  Bacon's  Lire  of  Henry  VII.  in  Kennet,  vol.  i.  p.  614 ;  Hall, 
p.  473 ;  Archspologia,  vol.  xxvii.  p.  154. 

f  Henry's  Hist,  of  Engl.  vol.  xii.  p.  387,  where  Warbeck's  confession 
is  printed  at  length  from  the  Birch  MS.  4160,  5,  collated  with  Harl. 
MS.  482,  fol.  128. 

J  Archaeologia,  vol.  xxvii.  p.  156. 


232  KING    RICHARD    THE    THIRD. 

crime  was  not  the  less  heinous  because  by  accident 
it  was  only  partially  completed. 

The  remaining  arguments,  which  tend  to  substan- 
tiate the  guilt  of  Richard,  admit  of  being  more 
concisely  investigated  and  more  hastily  dismissed. 
If,  it  may  be  inquired,  Richard  was  really  innocent, 
what  was  the  actual  fate  of  the  two  brothers? 
That  they  were  alive,  and  inmates  of  the  Tower,  at 
the  time  of  his  accession,  not  a  doubt  can  exist. 
What,  then,  became  of  them?  Richard  alone  had 
the  charge  and  custody  of  their  persons.  As  their 
nearest  male  relation,  as  their  uncle,  as  their  guar- 
dian, as  the  chief  of  the  State  and  the  fountain  of 
justice,  it  was  his  bounden  duty  not  only  to  protect 
them  from  wrong,  but  to  produce  their  persons  if 
required  ;  or,  at  all  events,  satisfactorily  to  account 
for  their  disappearance  from  the  eye  of  man  and 
from  the  light  of  heaven.  No  living  being,  except 
by  his  express  injunctions,  would  have  dared  to  lift 
a  linger  against  them.  No  living  being,  apparently, 
had  any  interest  in  destroying  them  but  himself. 
Moreover,  the  tongues  of  men,  not  only  at  home, 
but  at  foreign  courts,  charged  him  with  the  crime 
of  murder,  yet  he  took  no  steps  to  prove  his  inno- 
cence. Had  his  nephews  died  a  natural  death, 
surely  he  would  have  been  only  too  eager  to  dem- 
onstrate so  important  a  fact  to  the  world.  Again, 
there  were  periods  in  his  career  when  it  was  his  in- 
terest to  prove  that  they  were  still  in  the  land  of  the 


KING   KICHARD   THE   THIRD.  233 

living.  If,  then,  he  failed  to  produce  them,  to 
what  other  conclusion  can  we  arrive,  but  that  his 
victims  had  ceased  to  exist? 

Many  other  circumstances  might  be  adduced 
highly  unfavorable  to  the  presumption  of  King 
Richard's  innocence.  In  the  first  place,  indisput- 
able evidence  has  been  discovered,  showing  that  the 
different  persons,  whose  names  are  associated  with 
the  murder,  received  ample  rewards  from  Richard. 
Brakenbury,  who,  though  not  a  principal  in  the 
crime,  was  unquestionably  in  the  secret,  received 
numerous  manors  and  other  royal  pecuniary  grants. 
Green,  the  messenger  who  was  sent  to  him  by  the 
king  from  Gloucestershire,  was  appointed  receiver 
of  the  lordship  of  the  Isle  of  Wight,  and  of  the 
castle  and  lordship  of  Porchester.  Sir  James 
Tyrrell  was  enriched  by  a  variety  of  appointments 
and  royal  grants.  John  Dighton,  one  of  the  actual 
assassins,  was  awarded  the  bailiffship  of  Aiton,  in 
Staffordshire ;  and  lastly,  the  other  ruffian,  Miles 
Forrest,  ' '  the  fellow  fleshed  in  murder, ' '  was  not 
only  appointed  keeper  of  the  wardrobe  jn  one  of 
the  royal  residences,  Baenard  Castle,  but  at  his 
death,  which  occurred  shortly  after  the  assassina- 
tion of  the  young  princes,  his  widow  was  awarded  a 
pension.*  Again,  it  has  been  asked,  why  was 
Richard  so  eager  to  obtain  possession  of  the  person 

*  Harleian  MSS.  var.  quoted  in  S.  Turner's  Middle  Ages,  vol.  iv.  pp. 
459,  460. 


234  KING   KICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

of  the  young  Duke  of  York,  unless  he  intended 
to  sacrifice  him  to  his  ambition?  Why  did  the 
sanctuary  at  Westminster  remain  unwatched  so 
long  as  the  young  princes  were  known  to  be  alive  ; 
and,  why,  at  the  very  time  when  it  was  publicly 
rumoured  that  the  young  princes  were  no  more,  was 
it  suddenly  placed  in  a  state  of  siege  ?  *  A  simple 
answer  suggests  itself, — that,  by  the  death  of  her 
brothers,  the  princess  had  become  the  rightful  pos- 
sessor of  the  throne ;  that  her  escape  to  the  conti- 
nent, and  her  marriage  with  the  Earl  of  Richmond, 
might  have  proved  fatal  to  Richard's  power;  and 
consequently  that  it  was  of  the  utmost  importance 
to  him  to  secure  her  person,  or,  at  all  events,  to 
prevent  her  flight. 

Moreover,  unlike  the  majority  of  the  fearful 
crimes  which  have  been  attributed  to  Richard  III., 
the  story  of  the  murder  of  the  young  princes  is 
clearly  no  invention  of  those  later  chroniclers  who 
wrote  to  flatter  the  prejudices  of  the  Tudor  kings. 
Not  only  do  contemporary  writers  record  how 
general  was  the  suspicion  that  they  had  met  with 
an  untimely  end,  but,  as  we  have  already  seen, 
dangerous  conspiracies  were  the  consequence.  "  A 
rumour  was  spread,"  says  the  Croyland  Chronicle, 
' '  that  the  sons  of  King  Edward  before  named  had 
died  a  violent  death,  but  it  was  uncertain  how."f 
According  to  another  contemporary,  Rous,  ' '  it 

*  See  ante,  p.  203.  |  Croyl.  Chron.  Cont.  p.  491. 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  235 

was  afterwards  known  to  very  few  by  what  death 
they  suffered  martyrdom."*  Philip  de  Commines 
informs  us,  that  so  convinced  was  Louis  XI.  that 
Richard  had  murdered  his  two  nephews,  that  he 
' '  looked  upon  him  as  a  cruel  and  wicked  person, 
and  would  neither  answer  his  letters,  nor  give  audi- 
ence to  his  ambassador,  "f  Fabyan,  who  flourished 
as  an  alderman  of  London  when  London  aldermen 
were  of  higher  dignity  and  repute  than  they  are  in 
our  time,  informs  us  that  ' '  the  common  fame  went 
that  King  Richard  had  within  the  Tower  put  into 
secret  death  the  two  sons  of  his  brother,  Edward 
IV.  "J  Lastly,  the  evidence  of  Polydore  Virgil 
and  of  Bernard  Andreas,  who  may  be  almost  con- 
sidered as  contemporaries,  must  be  regarded  as  of 
some  importance.  The  former,  indeed,  admits, 
that  by  "what  kind  of  death  these  sely  children 
were  executed  is  yet  not  certainly  known ; ' '  but, 
on  the  other  hand,  he  substantiates  the  somewhat 
later  authority  of  Sir  Thomas  More,  that  the  Tower 
was  the  scene  of  their  death,  and,  moreover,  men- 
tions Sir  James  Tyrrell  as  the  chief  agent  of  Richard 
in  carrying  out  his  atrocious  project.  §  Andreas, 
on  the  other  hand,  distinctly  affirms  that  Richard 
caused  his  nephews  to  be  put  to  death  with  the 
sword.  ||  It  may  be  argued  and  objected  that  these 

*  Hist.  Angl.  Reg.  p.  214.  f  De  Commines,  tome  ii.  pp.  243-4. 

I  Fabyan's  Chronicles,  p.  670.         \  Polydore  Virgil,  lib.  xxv.  p.  694. 
||  "Clam  ferro  feriri  jussit." — Vita  Henr.  Sept.  p.  24. 


236  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

two  writers  were  courtiers,  and  that  Polydore 
Virgil  wrote  his  history  expressly  at  the  desire  of 
Henry  VII.,  whom  it  was  his  object  to  flatter  and 
please.  But  it  must  also  be  remembered  that 
Polydore  Virgil  had  conversed  with  many  of  the 
principal  persons  who  were  alive  at  the  time  of 
King  Richard's  accession,  and  had  every  facility  of 
obtaining  the  most  accurate  information.  The 
reigning  queen,  moreover,  as  the  sister  of  the  mur- 
dered princes,  would  naturally  take  a  deep  interest 
in  any  historical  work  which  was  likely  to  perpetu- 
ate her  brothers'  melancholy  story.  If  the  story, 
then,  was  merely  an  idle  fiction, — nay,  unless  it 
had  been  commonly  credited  by  the  best  informed 
persons  at  the  time, — would  Polydore  Virgil  have 
confidently  published  it  to  the  world?  or  would  he 
have  narrated  to  the  queen  a  pathetic  story  of  the 
fate  of  her  own  brothers,  which,  if  false,  could 
scarcely  fail  to  be  most  offensive  to  her?  Is  it 
likely  that  the  Duke  of  Buckingham,  and  the  other 
noble  persons  who  were  associated  with  him  in  re- 
bellion, would  have  risked  their  lives  and  estates 
in  the  cause  of  the  Princess  Elizabeth,  unless  they 
had  been  completely  satisfied  that  her  brothers  had 
ceased  to  exist?  Lastly,  unless  King  Richard  had 
been  convinced  beyond  all  doubt  that  the  work  of 
murder  had  been  completed,  and  that  consequently 
Elizabeth  had  become  the  true  and  indubitable 
heiress  to  the  throne,  is  it  likely  that  so  astute  a 


KING   RICHARD   THE  THIRD.  237 

prince  would  have  sought  to  strengthen  his  rule  by 
making  her  his  queen, — a  project  which,  on  his 
becoming  a  widower,  there  seems  to  be  little  ques- 
tion that  he  contemplated?  Doubtless,  so  long  as 
history  shall  be  read,  the  question  whether  Richard 
was,  or  was  not,  guilty  of  the  murder  of  his 
nephews,  will  continue  to  be  a  matter  of  dispute. 
Men  will  interpret  the  evidence  according  to  their 
prejudices  or  their  feelings.  For  our  own  part, 
could  the  coroner  hold  his  inquest  over  those 
mouldering  relics  of  humanity  which  were  dis- 
covered at  the  base  of  the  White  Tower,  we  cannot 
but  think  that  there  would  be  forthcoming  a  mass 
of  circumstantial  evidence,  sufficient  to  convict 
Richard  Plantagenet,  King  of  England,  of  the 
crime  of  wilful  murder. 

The  principal  persons,  associated  with  the  Duke 
of  Buckingham  in  the  secret  conspiracy  which  was 
forming  against  Richard,  were  Margaret  Countess 
of  Richmond,  the  lineal  heiress  and  representa- 
tive of  the  house  of  Lancaster,  and  Dr.  Morton, 
Bishop  of  Ely,  afterwards  Cardinal  and  Archbishop 
of  Canterbury.  According  to  Sir  Thomas  More, 
who  in  his  youth  had  been  intimately  associated  with 
the  latter,  the  bishop  was  ' '  a  man  of  great  natural 
wit,  very  well  learned,  and  of  a  winning  be- 
haviour."* He  had  formerly  been  chaplain  to 
Henry  VI.,  and  had  sat  at  the  council-table  of  that 

*Sir  T.  More's  Eichard  III.  p.  138. 


238  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

unhappy  monarch.*  Edward  IV.,  on  his  accession, 
found  means  to  attach  him  to  his  interests ;  reward- 
ing his  complaisance  by  retaining  him  as  a  privy 
councillor,  and  subsequently  advancing  him  to  the 
bishopric  of  Ely.  To  King  Edward,  during  his  life- 
time, and,  after  the  death  of  that  monarch,  to  his 
unfortunate  sons,  the  bishop  seems  to  have  been 
sincerely  and  devotedly  attached.  This  devotion  it 
was  which  had  drawn  down  on  him  the  hatred  and 
resentment  of  Richard.  The  protector,  as  we  have 
seen,  arrested,  and,  in  the  first  instance,  imprisoned 
him  in  the  Tower,  though  he  subsequently  com- 
mitted him  to  the  milder  custody  of  the  Duke  of 
Buckingham. 

It  was  doubtless  during  the  time  that  the  bishop 
was  residing  under  Buckingham's  hospitable  roof 
at  Brecknock,  that  he  contrived,  by  his  arguments 
and  persuasions,  to  wean  his  powerful  host  from 
his  allegiance  to  King  Richard.  No  sooner  was 
Buckingham  prevailed  upon  to  turn  traitor,  than 
their  plans  were  speedily  matured.  The  line  of 
policy  which  they  resolved  to  adopt  was  as  simple 
as  it  was  wise.  By  the  death  of  her  ill-fated 
brothers,  the  Princess  Elizabeth  had  become  the 
lineal  representative  of  the  house  of  York.  But, 
however  indisputable  might  have  been  her  title  to 
the  throne,  her  sex,  and  her  close  alliance  by  blood 
to  the  unpopular  Woodvilles,  rendered  it  improb- 

*Sir  T.  More's  Richard  III.  p.  140. 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  239 

able  that  her  claims  would  meet  with  favour  be- 
yond the  walls  of  Brecknock.  As  Buckingham 
observed  to  Bishop  Morton, — •'  I  called  an  old 
proverb  to  remembrance,  which  says,  '  Woe  to  that 
kingdom  where  children  rule  and  women  govern  ! '  "* 
The  conspirators,  therefore,  turned  their  attention 
to  Henry  Earl  of  Richmond,  wrho,  by  right  of  his 
mother,  was,  in  the  eyes  of  the  partisans  of  the 
house  of  Lancaster,  the  head  of  that  fallen  house. 
The  project  of  uniting  the  princess  to  the  young 
earl  appears  to  have  emanated  from  the  bishop. 
To  the  duke  he  proposed,  that,  in  the  event  of  their 
obtaining  the  joint  concurrence  of  the  queen-dow- 
ager and  the  Countess  of  Richmond,  the  crown 
should  be  offered  to  Henry  on  the  express  con- 
dition of  his  guaranteeing  to  make  the  princess  his 
wife.  Thus,  argued  the  bishop,  the  rival  houses 
of  York  and  Lancaster  will  hereafter  be  united  by 
the  closest  ties  of  relationship.  Thus  a  termina- 
tion will  be  put  to  those  cruel  and  unnatural  con- 
tests, which  for  so  many  years  have  deluged  Eng- 
land with  blood. 

As  the  secret  negotiations,  which  they  proposed 
to  set  on  foot,  must  necessarily  be  attended  with 
imminent  peril,  it  was  requisite,  for  the  safety  of 
all  concerned,  that  they  should  be  conducted  by  a 
person  of  singular  prudence  and  foresight.  Fortu- 
nately the  bishop  had  such  a  person  in  his  eye. 

*  Kennet,  vol.  i.  p.  503. 


240  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

"He  had  an  old  friend,"  he  said,  "a  man  sober, 
discreet,  and  well-witted,  called  Reginald  Bray, 
whose  prudent  policy  he  had  known  to  have  com- 
passed things  of  great  importance.*  Bray  was  of  a 
good  Norman  family,  which  had  long  attached 
itself  to  the  house  of  Lancaster.  His  father  had 
been  of  the  privy  council  to  Henry  VI.  ;  he  himself 
had  been  formerly  receiver-general  to  Bucking- 
ham''s  uncle  Sir  Henry  Stafford,  the  second  hus- 
band of  the  Countess  of  Richmond,  and  was,  at 
this  very  time,  in  the  service  of  that  illustrious 
lady.  As  it  was  deemed  prudent  by  the  conspir- 
ators that  the  countess  should  be  the  first  person 
communicated  with,  Bray's  position  in  her  house- 
hold was  rendered  of  considerable  importance.  He 
was  accordingly  summoned  to  Brecknock,  and 
forthwith  intrusted  with  the  secret  designs  of  the 
conspirators.  His  services  proved  of  inestimable 
value.  Through  his  agency,  secret  negotiations 
were  set  on  foot,  which  proved  satisfactory  to  all 
parties.  Sir  Giles  Daubeny,  afterwards  Lord  Dau- 
beny,  Sir  John  Cheney,  Sir  Richard  Guildford,  and 
other  persons  of  influence,  were  induced  to  join  the 
conspiracy  against  Richard. f  The  queen-dowager 
eagerly  agreed  to  the  proposals  which  were  made  to 
her;  while  the  Countess  of  Richmond  naturally 
embraced  with  enthusiasm  a  project  which  promised 

*Grafton's  Chron.  vol.  ii.  p.  129. 
t  Polydore  Virgil,  lib.  xxv.  p.  698. 


KING    RICHARD   THE  THIRD.  241 

to  restore  the  fortunes  of  the  house  of  Lancaster, 
and  to  exalt  to  the  throne  a  son  whom  she  tenderly 
loved.  In  the  mean  time,  trustworthy  emissaries 
had  been  sent  to  the  young  earl,  then  an  exile  in 
Brittany,  who  sent  back  the  most  satisfactory  re- 
plies to  his  friends  in  England.  A  cordial  under- 
standing was  established  between  the  principal 
partisans  of  the  rival  houses  of  York  and  Lancas- 
ter. An  insurrection  was  agreed  upon.  The  18th 
of  October  was  fixed  upon  by  the  Earl  of  Richmond 
as  the  day  for  his  setting  foot  in  England,  and  on 
that  day  Buckingham  undertook  to  raise  the  stan- 
dard of  insurrection.  The  greatest  promptitude, 
and  the  most  perfect  good  faith,  appear  to  have 
marked  the  conduct  of  the  leaders  of  both  factions. 
But,  secretly  and  ably  as  the  conspiracy  had 
been  conducted,  it  became  much  too  widely  spread 
long  to  escape  the  vigilance  of  Richard.  Accord- 
ingly, no  sooner  was  he  apprized  of  the  peril  which 
threatened  his  throne,  than  he  issued  orders  for  an 
immediate  levy  of  troops  in  the  north,  and,  at  the 
same  time,  summoned  Buckingham  to  his  presence. 
The  summons  was  couched  in  friendly  terms,  but 
they  failed  in  cajoling  the  duke.  In  the  mean 
time,  the  day  for  action  arrived.  The  Earl  of 
Richmond  set  sail  from  St.  Malo  with  5000  soldiers 
on  board  his  transports.  The  Courtenays  rose  in 
formidable  numbers  in  the  west  of  England;  the 
Marquis  of  Dorset,  half-brother  to  the  Princess 


242  KING   KICHAKD   THE   THIKD. 

Elizabeth,  proclaimed  the  earl  at  Exeter ;  her  uncle, 
the  Bishop  of  Salisbury,  declared  for  him  in  Wilt- 
shire ;  the  gentlemen  of  Kent  assembled,  with  their 
retainers,  to  proclaim  him  at  Maidstone ;  and  the 
gentlemen  of  Berkshire  met  for  a  similar  purpose 
at  Newbury. 

An  enterprise,  so  wisely  conceived  and  bravely 
commenced,  seemed  to  promise,  no  less  than  to 
merit  success.  Circumstances,  however,  beyond 
the  control  of  man  destroyed  the  hopes  of  the  con- 
spirators. A  violent  tempest  drove  back  the  Earl 
of  Richmond  and  his  fleet  to  the  shores  of  Brittany. 
The  fate  of  Buckingham  was  a  melancholy  one. 
On  the  day  appointed  for  the  rising,  he  had  un- 
furled his  banner  at  Brecknock,  and  was  advancing 
towards  Gloucester  with  the  intention  of  crossing 
the  Severn  and  marching  into  the  heart  of  England, 
when  his  progress  was  impeded  by  rains  so  heavy 
and  incessant,  that  no  living  man  remembered  so 
terrible  an  inundation.  The  Severn  and  other  riv- 
ers were  rendered  impassable;  men,  women,  and 
children  were  drowned  in  their  beds  ;  cradles,  with 
infants  in  them,  were  seen  floating  in  the  valleys. 
For  a  century  afterwards  it  was  spoken  of  as  the 
Great  Water,  and  sometimes  as  Buckingham's 
Great  Water.*  Thus  was  the  duke  prevented  from 
keeping  his  appointment  with  his  friends.  His 
Welsh  retainers, — some  on  account  of  want  of  food, 

*  Hall's  Chronicle,  p.  394 ;  Holinshed,  vol.  iii.  p.  417. 


KING   RICHARD   THE  THIRD.  243 

and  some  from  superstitious  feelings, — turned  a 
deaf  ear  to  his  entreaties,  and  insisted  on  dispersing 
to  their  homes.  The  duke  was  left  alone  with  a 
single  servant.  Having  disguised  himself  in  the 
best  manner  he  could,  he  made  his  way  towards 
Shrewsbury,  in  hopes  of  finding  protection  under 
the  roof  of  an  old  servant  of  l^is  family,  one  Ralph 
Banister,  to  whom  he  had  formerly  shown  kind- 
ness. His  confidence  was  met  by  the  cruelest 
treachery.  Whether  tempted  by  the  large  reward 
offered  for  the  duke's  apprehension,  or  whether 
frightened  at  the  hazard  which  he  ran  in  sheltering 
so  important  a  rebel,  Banister  is  said  to  have  be- 
trayed his  old  master  to  the  sheriff  of  Shropshire, 
who  forthwith  carried  him  to  the  king  at  Salisbury. 
A  scaffold  was  immediately  erected  in  the  market- 
place of  that  city,  on  which,  on  the  2nd  of  Novem- 
ber 1483,  was  beheaded,  without  a  trial,  the  wealthi- 
est and  most  powerful  subject  in  England,  the  chief 
hope  of  the  house  of  Lancaster. 

Scarcely  waiting  till  Buckingham's  head  was  off 
his  shoulders,  Richard  commenced  a  hurried  march 
to  the  wTest  of  England,  where  the  insurrection  had 
threatened  to  be  most  formidable.  On  the  10th  of 
November  he  reached  Exeter.  Not  a  man  opposed 
his  progress ;  not  a  blow  was  struck.  ,  Intimidated 
by  the  summary  and  tragical  fate  of  Buckingham, 
by  the  rapidity  of  the  king's  advance,  and  by  the 
vast  sums  of  money  which  he  offered  for  their 


244  KING   KICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

heads,  the  leaders  of  the  late  insurrection  dispersed 
in  all  quarters.  The  Marquis  of  Dorset,  Lionel 
Woodville  Bishop  of  Salisbury,  Peter  Courtenay 
Bishop  of  Exeter,  Sir  John,  afterwards  Lord 
Welles,  Sir  Edward  Courtenay,  and  other  persons 
of  rank  and  influence,  found  means  to  escape  to 
Brittany.  Others  took  refuge  in  sanctuary.  Sev- 
eral were  tried  and  executed.  Among  the  latter 
was  the  king's  own  brother-in-law,  Sir  Thomas  St. 
Leger.*  Thus  this  formidable  insurrection,  instead 
of  compassing  the  downfall  of  Richard,  rendered 
him  even  more  secure  on  his  throne.  He  was  en- 
abled to  disband  a  considerable  part  of  his  army, 
and  on  the  1st  of  December,  attended  by  the  lord- 
mayor  and  aldermen  in  their  robes,  he  again  entered 
London  in  triumph. 

Richard  now  ventured  to  call  a  parliament,  which 
accordingly  assembled  at  Westminster  on  the  23rd 
of  January.  Overawed,  probably,  by  his  masterly 
policy,  and  by  his  recent  signal  success,  the  two 
houses  anticipated  his  washes  with  an  obsequious- 
ness which  could  scarcely  have  failed  to  afford  him 
the  highest  satisfaction.  They  solemnly  confirmed 
the  irregular  title  by  which,  in  the  preceding 

*  Sir  Thomas  St.  Leger  had  married  the  Lady  Anne  Plantagenet, 
daughter  of  the  late  Duke  of  York,  and  widow  of  the  chivalrous  Henry 
Holland,  second  Duke  of  Exeter.  "  One  most  noble  knight  perished, 
Thomas  Saint  Leger  by  name,  to  save  whose  life  very  large  sums  of 
money  were  offered ;  but  all  in  vain,  for  he  underwent  his  sentence  of 
capital  punishment." — Croyl.  Chron.  Cont.  p.  492. 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  245 

summer,  he  had  been  invited  to  wear  the  crown. 
They  declared  and  decreed  him  to  be,  as  well  by 
right  of  consanguinity  and  inheritance,  as  by  law- 
ful election,  "the  very  undoubted  king  of  the 
realm  of  England."  And,  lastly,  they  enacted 
that,  after  the  king's  decease,  "the  high  and  ex- 
cellent Prince  Edward,  son  of  our  said  sovereign 
lord  the  king,  be  heir-apparent  to  succeed  him 
in  the  aforesaid  crown  and  royal  dignity."*  The 
fact  is  somewhat  a  remarkable  one,  that  although 
this  procedure  of  parliament  was  virtually  an  act 
for  deposing  Edward  V.,  it  nevertheless  contains 
no  direct  mention  of  that  unhappy  prince,  either 
as  being  alive  or  dead.  It  proclaims,  indeed,  in 
general  terms,  that  ' '  all  the  issue  and  children ' ' 
of  Edward  IV.  are  bastards,  and  therefore  disquali- 
fied from  inheriting  the  crown ;  but  of  the  prince, 
in  whose  fate  so  many  thousands  of  persons  were 

*  An  act  was  passed,  the  preamble  to  which  set  forth  that,  previously 
to  his  consecration  and  coronation,  a  roll  had  been  presented  to  him,  on 
behalf  of  the  three  estates  of  the  realm,  by  divers  lords  spiritual  and 
temporal,  and  other  notable  persons  of  the  commons  to  the  conditions 
and  considerations  contained  in  which  he  had  benignly  assented  for  the 
public  weal  and  tranquillity  of  the  land ;  but,  forasmuch  as  the  said 
three  estates  were  not  at  that  time  assembled  in  form  of  parliament 
divers  doubts  and  questions  had  been  engendered  in  the  minds  of  certain 
persons.  For  the  removal  therefore  of  such  doubts  and  ambiguities,  it 
was  enacted  by  "  the  said  three  estates  assembled  in  this  present  parlia- 
ment," that  all  things  affirmed  and  specified  in  the  aforesaid  roll  be  "of 
the  like  effect,  virtue,  and  force,  as  if  all  the  same  things  had  been  so 
said,  affirmed,  specified,  and  remembered  in  full  parliament." — Eat. 
Part.  vol.  vi.  p.  240. 


246  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

interested,  and  to  whom  most  of  the  peers  and 
prelates,  who  then  deposed  him,  had  so  recently 
and  so  solemnly  sworn  allegiance,  the  act  makes  no 
direct  mention  whatever. 

Richard  had  no  sooner  induced  parliament  to 
sanction  his  usurpation,  than  he  turned  his  thoughts 
towards  the  gloomy  sanctuary  at  Westminster,  in 
which,  for  nearly  twelve  months,  the  widow  of  his 
brother  Edward,  and  her  five  portionless  daughters, 
had  been  subsisting  on  the  charity  of  the  abbot  and 
monks  of  Westminster.  The  pertinacity  with 
which  the  queen  had  refused  to  allow  her  daughters 
to  quit  the  protection  of  the  Church,  had  doubtless 
occasioned  him  the  greatest  annoyance.  It 
amounted,  in  fact,  to  a  tacit  protest  against  his 
usurpation ;  a  manifest  declaration  to  the  world, 
that  she  mistrusted  his  professions,  and  appre- 
hended evil  at  his  hands. 

By  what  arguments,  or  by  what  pressure  of  cir- 
cumstances, Elizabeth  was  at  length  induced  to 
surrender  herself  and  her  daughters  into  the  hands 
of  her  arch-enemy,  will  probably  never  be  ascer- 
tained. Fortunately  there  is  extant  the  copy  of 
the  oath,  by  which,  on  the  word  of  a  king,  and  by 
the  Holy  Evangelists,  Richard  solemnly  swore,  that, 
on  condition  of  their  quitting  the  sanctuary,  he 
would  not  only  secure  to  them  their  lives  and  lib- 
erty, but  would  provide  for  their  future  mainten- 
ance. The  document  is  a  very  curious  and  inter- 


KING    RICHAED   THE   THIRD.  247 

esting  one.  "I,  Richard,"  it  commences,  "by  the 
grace  of  God,  King  of  England  and  of  France,  and 
Lord  of  Ireland,  in  the  presence  of  you,  my  Lords 
Spiritual  and  Temporal,  and  you,  Mayor  and  Alder- 
men of  my  city  of  London,  promise  and  swear  verbo 
regio,  upon  these  Holy  Evangelists  of  God,  by  me 
personally  touched,  that  if  the  daughters  of  Dame 
Elizabeth  Grey,  late  calling  herself  Queen  of  Eng- 
land,— that  is  to  wit,  Elizabeth,  Cecily,  Anne, 
Katherine,  and  Bridget, — will  come  unto  me  out  of 
the  sanctuary  at  Westminster,  and  be  guided,  ruled, 
and  demeaned  after  me,  then  I  shall  see  that  they 
shall  be  in  surety  of  their  lives ;  and  also  not  suffer 
any  manner  of  hurt  by  any  manner  of  person  or 
persons  to  them,  or  any  of  them,  on  their  bodies 
and  persons,  to  be  done  by  way  of  ravishment  or 
def  ouling,  contrary  to  their  will ;  nor  them  nor  any 
of  them  imprison  within  the  Tower  of  London  or 
other  prison."  Richard  then  proceeds  to  swear 
that  his  nieces  shall  be  supported  in  a  manner 
becoming  his  kinswomen ;  that  he  will  marry  them 
to  gentlemen  by  birth,  and  endow  each  of  them 
with  "marriage  lands  and  tenements"  to  the 
yearly  value  of  200  marks  for  the  term  of  their 
lives ;  and  that  such  gentlemen,  as  they  may  chance 
to  marry,  he  will  ' '  strictly  charge,  from  time  to 
time,  lovingly  to  love  and  entreat  tnem  as  their 
wives  and  his  kinswomen,  as  they  would  avoid  and 
eschew  his  displeasure."  To  Dame  Elizabeth  Grey 


248  KING    RICHARD    THE   THIRD. 

he  promises  to  pay  annually  700  marks  (266Z.  13s. 
4d.},  for  the  term  of  her  natural  life;  and,  lastly, 
he  swears  to  discredit  any  reports  that  may  be 
spread  to  their  disadvantage,  till  they  shall  have 
had  opportunities  for  "their  lawful  defence  and 
answer."*  The  date  of  this  remarkable  document 
being  the  1st  of  March  1484,  the  probability  is,  that 
the  queen  and  her  daughters  quitted  the  sanctuary 
immediately  afterwards. 

King  Richard  was  now  at  the  height  of  his 
grandeur  and  power.  Treason,  indeed,  still  lay 
concealed  in  his  path ;  but  it  was  not  from  the  ill- 
will  nor  discontent  of  the  masses  of  his  subjects,  but 
from  the  intrigues  of  a  restless  nobility,  and  from 
the  treachery  of  friends  whom  he  had  loaded  with 
favours,  that  he  had  reason  to  anticipate  peril. 
If  his  subjects  still  remembered,  and  shuddered  at, 
the  one  terrible  crime  which  he  was  more  than  sus- 
pected of  having  committed,  they  had,  on  the  other 
hand,  every  reason  to  be  grateful  to  him  for  hav- 
ing arrested  the  horrors  of  civil  war,  and  for  hav- 
ing extended  to  them  a  wise  and  humane  adminis- 
tration. They  recognized  in  him,  at  all  events,  an 
active,  wise,  temperate,  and  valiant  prince ;  a  prince 
sensitively  jealous  of  the  honour  of  the  English 
nation,  and  an  anxious  well-wisher  for  its  prosper- 
ity. They  beheld  in  him  a  prince,  who  sought  to 
win  their  suffrages  and  their  affections ;  not  by  the 

*  Ellis's  Orig.  Letters,  Second  Series,  vol.  i.  p.  149. 


KING    RICHARD   THE  THIRD.  249 

low  arts  with  which  those  who  have  suddenly 
achieved  greatness  too  often  pander  for  popularity, 
but  by  reforming  immemorial  abuses,  by  introduc- 
ing laws  calculated  to  secure  the  safety  and  welfare 
of  his  subjects ;  by  insisting  on  an  equal  administra- 
tion of  justice ;  by  taking  measures  for  the  sup- 
pression of  vice  and  immorality ;  by  removing  re- 
strictions from  trade,  and  encouraging  commerce 
and  the  arts  of  industry  and  peace.  His  patronage 
of  learning,  and  the  encouragement  which  he  ex- 
tended to  architecture,  merit  especial  commenda- 
tion. He  released  the  University  of  Oxford  of 
twenty  marks  of  the  fee  due  to  him  in  the  first  year 
of  his  reign ;  and  endowed  Queen's  College,  Cam- 
bridge, with  five  hundred  marks  a  year.  He  en- 
couraged the  newly-discovered  art  of  printing,  and, 
in  order  to  extend  learning  in  the  Universities, 
caused  an  act  to  be  passed,  which  was  afterwards 
repealed  by  Henry  VIII.,  permitting  printed  books 
to  be  brought  into,  and  sold  by  retail  in  England.* 
Moreover,  so  far  from  Richard  having  been  the 
moody  and  morose  tyrant,  such  as  the  venal  writers 
who  wrote  under  the  Tudor  dynasty  delight  to  de- 
scribe him,  we  have  evidence  from  contemporary 
records  that  he  followed  the  manly  amusements 
which  are  popular  with  Englishmen,  and  enjoyed 
those  tastes  which  throw  a  grace  over  human 

*  Wood's  Hist,  of  Oxford,  by  Gutch,  vol.  i.  pp.  639-40 ;  Rons,  p. 
216 ;  Sandf.  Gen.  Hist,  book  v.  p.  434. 


250  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

nature.  His  grants  to  the  master  of  his  hawks  and 
the  keepers  of  his  mews  by  Charing  Cross,  and  his 
payments  to  the  keeper  of  his  hart-hounds,  tend  to 
the  presumption  that  he  was  no  less  the  keen 
sportsman  than  the  redoubted  wTarrior  and  accom- 
plished statesman.  Lastly,  that  he  delighted  in 
music,  is  shown  by  the  number  of  minstrels  who 
came  to  his  court  from  foreign  lands,  as  well  as  by 
the  annuities  which  he  settled  on  musicians  born  on 
English  soil.* 

That  Richard's  nature  was  originally  a  compas- 
sionate one,  there  seems  to  be  every  reason  for 
believing.  His  kindness  to  the  female  sex  has  been 
especially  commented  upon.  To  the  Countess  of 
Oxford,  the  wife  of  his  arch-enemy,  he  granted  a 
pension  of  one  hundred  pounds  a  year.  To  the 
widow  of  Earl  Rivers,  he  secured  the  jointure  which 
had  been  settled  on  her  in  the  lifetime  of  her  lord ; 
and,  notwithstanding  the  ingratitude  which  he  had 
encountered  from  the  late  Duke  of  Buckingham, 
he  settled  on  his  widow  an  annuity  of  two  hundred 
marks,  and  further  relieved  her  necessities  by  the 
payment  of  Buckingham's  debts. f  His  kindness 
to  Lady  Hastings,  in  releasing  the  estates  of  her 
lord,  which  had  been  forfeited  by  his  attainder,  we 
have  already  recorded.:}: 

*  MSS.  quoted  in  S.  Turner's  Middle  Ages,  vol.  iv.  pp.  31-2. 
t  Ibid.  vol.  iv.  pp.  27-9. 
J  See  Appendix  C. 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  251 

Considering  the  terrible  crimes  which  Richard  is 
said  to  have  committed,  it  might  have  been  expected 
that  the  clergy  would  have  held  him  in  especial  ab- 
horrence. On  the  contrary,  we  find  them  not  only 
reconciled  to  his  usurpation,  but  even  addressing 
him  in  language  of  enthusiastic  admiration.  For 
instance,  at  a  great  assemblage  of  the  clergy,  con- 
voked in  the  month  of  February  1484,  about  six 
months  after  the  presumed  murder  of  the  young 
princes,  we  are  not  a  little  surprised  at  discovering 
the  high  dignitaries  of  the  Church  not  only  address- 
ing Richard  as  a  most  catholic  prince,  but  actually 
bearing  solemn  record  to  his  ; '  most  noble  and 
blessed  disposition."*  Either,  then,  the  best  in- 
formed persons  of  the  day  discredited  the  monstrous 
crimes  which  were  laid  to  his  charge,  or  else  flattery 
and  hypocrisy  could  scarcely  be  carried  to  more 
blasphemous  lengths.  If  Richard  was  desirous  to 
win  the  favour  of  the  priesthood,  the  clergy  seem 
to  have  been  quite  as  eager  on  their  part  to  secure 
Richard  as  their  patron. 

Richard,  as  we  have  remarked,  was  now  at  the 
height  of  his  grandeur  and  power.  Parliament 
had,  in  the  most  solemn  manner,  settled  the  crown 
upon  him,  and  entailed  it  upon  his  heirs.  The 
powerful  foes,  who  had  conspired  to  thwart  him  in 
his  ambitious  designs,  had  either  perished  on  the 
scaffold,  or  were  in  exile.  Their  attainder  had  en- 

*  MSS.  quoted  in  S.  Turner's  Middle  Ages,  vol.  iv.  p.  24. 


252  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

abled  him  to  reward  his  friends  and  followers  with- 
out any  drain  on  the  royal  coffers.  According  to 
Polydore  Virgil,*  he  had  "attained  the  type  of 
glory  and  promotion,  and  in  the  eye  of  the  people 
was  accounted  a  happy  man."  But  though,  as 
Philip  de  Commines  informs  us,  he  reigned  with  a 
splendour  and  authority  such  as,  for  a  hundred 
years  past,  no  sovereign  of  England  had  achieved,  f 
his  mind  is  said  to  have  been  constantly  harassed 
by  a  sense  of  the  insecurity  of  his  position,  and  by 
the  tortures  of  remorse.  Above  all  things,  he  is 
said  to  have  reproached  himself  for  having  com- 
passed the  deaths  of  his  innocent  nephews.  Accord- 
ing to  Sir  Thomas  More,  his  life  was  ' '  spent  in 
much  pain  and  trouble  outward;  in  much  fear, 
anguish,  and  sorrow  within ;  for  I  have  heard,  by 
credible  report,  of  such  as  were  secret  with  his 
chamberers,  that,  after  this  abominable  deed  done, 
he  never  had  quiet  in  his  mind ;  he  never  thought 
himself  sure.  When  he  went  abroad,  his  eyes 
whirled  about;  his  body  was  privily  fenced;  his 
hand  ever  on  his  dagger ;  his  countenance  and  man- 
ner like  one  always  ready  to  strike  again.  He  took 
ill  rest  at  night,  lay  long  waking  and  musing.  Sore 
wearied  with  care  and  watch,  he  rather  slumbered 
than  slept.  Troubled  with  fearful  dreams,  he  would 
sometimes  suddenly  start  up,  leap  out  of  his  bed, 

*  Camd.  Soc.  Trans,  p.  191. 

f  Me"moires  de  Commines,  tome  ii.  p.  158. 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  253 

and  run  about  the  chamber.  So  was  his  restless 
heart  continually  tossed  and  tumbled,  with  the 
tedious  impression  and  stormy  remembrance  of  his 
abominable  deed."* 

An  instance  of  his  superstitious  frame  of  mind, 
and  morbid  depression  of  spirits,  is  mentioned  as 
having  occurred  during  his  recent  visit  to  Exeter. 
Being  much  struck  with  the  strength  and  elevation 
of  the  castle,  he  inquired  its  name.  The  reply  was 
"  Rougemont,"  a  word  which  he  mistook  for  Rich- 
mond, and  was  evidently  startled.  An  idle  predic- 
tion, it  seems,  had  reached  his  ears,  that  he  would 
not  long  survive  a  visit  to  that  place.  "  Then,"  he 
exclaimed,  in  a  tone  of  alarm,  "  I  see  my  days  wTill 
not  be  long ; ' '  and  accordingly  he  hastily  quitted 
Exeter,  and  returned  to  London,  f 

Other  peculiarities,  we  think,  might  be  detected 
in  Richard's  conduct  at  this  period,  tending  to  the 
presumption  that  his  mind  was  ill  at  ease  with  it- 
self, and  that  he  was  endeavouring,  by  good  deeds 
performed  in  the  service  of  his  Maker,  to  expiate 
the  commission  of  some  terrible  crime.  Not  that 
Richard  can  be  accused  of  having  been  remiss,  at 
any  time  of  his  life,  in  a  respect  for  religion,  or  in 
the  performance  of  charitable  deeds.  The  large 
offerings  which  he  made  to  religious  houses,  and 
the  large  sums  which  he  subscribed  towards  the 

*Sir  T.  More's  Richard  III.  pp.  133, 134 
t  Holinshed's  Chronicles,  vol.  iii.  p.  421. 


254  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

building  and  repair  of  churches,  afford  sufficient 
evidence  to  the  contrary.  Among  other  devo- 
tional acts,  he  subscribed  liberal  sums  to  the  monks 
of  Cowsham,  and  to  the  parish  of  Skipton,  for  the 
repair  of  their  several  churches.*  He  rebuilt 
the  chapel  of  the  Holy  Virgin,  in  the  church  of 
Allhallows,  Barking,  near  the  Tower  of  London, 
and  founded  there  a  college  consisting  of  a  dean 
and  six  canons,  f  He  commenced  the  erection  of  a 
chapel  at  Towton,  over  the  bodies  of  the  Yorkists 
who  fell  in  the  sanguinary  battle  at  that  place  4 
He  converted  the  rectory  church  of  Middleham  into 
a  college;§  and  founded,  within  Barnard  Castle 
in  the  county  of  Durham,  a  college  consisting  of  a 
dean,  twelve  secular  priests,  ten  chaplains,  and  six 
choristers.il  He  subscribed  500Z.,  then  a  consider- 
able sum,  towards  the  completion  of  the  beautiful 
chapel  of  King's  College,  Cambridge  ;•[  he  is  said  to 
have  been  a  considerable  benefactor  to  Clare  Hall, 
Cambridge,**  and  on  Queen's  College,  in  that  uni- 
versity, he  conferred  a  large  portion  of  the  lands  of 
John  de  Vere,  Earl  of  Oxford,  which  had  been  for- 


*  Whitaker's  Eichmondshire,  vol.  i.  p.  335. 

f  Stow's   Survey  of  London,  book  ii.  p.  32 ;  Rossi  Hist.  Reg.  Ang. 
p.  216. 

t  Drake's  Eboracum,  p.  111. 
\  Rossi  Hist.  Reg.  Ang.  p.  215. 
||  Surtees'  Hist,  of  Durham,  vol.  iv.  p.  67. 
T[  Hist,   of  Cambridge,  vol.  i.  p.  197.     Ackerman,  London,  1815. 
**  Dyer's  Hist,  of  the  University  of  Cambridge,  vol.  ii.  p.  39. 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  255 

felted  by  his  attainder.  In  gratitude  for  these 
benefits,  the  latter  college  formerly  used  as  their 
coat  of  arms  a  crozier  and  a  pastoral  staff  piercing 
the  head  of  a  boar,  the  cognizance  of  Richard  of 
Gloucester.  In  the  days  of  Fuller,  however,  the 
college  had  ' '  waived  the  wearing  of  this  coat,  lay- 
ing it  up  in  her  wardrobe, ' '  and  making  use  only  of 
the  arms  assigned  to  them  by  their  foundress,  Mar- 
garet of  Anjou.* 

But,  towards  the  close  of  his  career,  his  religious 
offerings  and  endowments  seem  not  only  to  have 
been  more  numerous,  but  to  have  been  character- 
ized by  an  uneasiness  in  respect  to  the  future  wel- 
fare of  his  soul,  which  is  not  without  its  significance. 
For  instance,  on  the  16th  of  December  1483,  we 
find  him  granting  an  annuity  of  10Z.  to  John  Bray, 
clerk,  for  performing  divine  service,  for  the  welfare 
of  his  soul,  and  the  souls  of  his  consort  and  of 
Prince  Edward  their  son,  in  the  chapel  of  St. 
George,  in  the  castle  of  Southampton.  Again,  on 
the  2nd  of  March  following,  we  find  him  endow- 
ing his  princely  foundation,  the  Herald's  College, 
with  lands  and  tenements  for  the  support  of  a 
chaplain,  whose  duty  it  was  to  pray  and  sing  ser- 
vice every  day  for  the  good  estate  of  the  king,  the 
queen,  and  Edward  their  son.f  Between  the  9th 
and  10th  of  the  same  month,  we  find  the  king  a 

*  Fuller's  Hist,  of  the  University  of  Cambridge,  pp.  122,  123. 
f  Rymer's  Foedera,  vol.  xii.  p.  215. 


256  KING   KICHAED   THE   THIRD. 

visitor  at  Cambridge,  on  which  occasion  he  "de- 
voutly founded  "  an  exhibition  at  Queen's  College 
for  four  priests, — the  university,  at  the  same  time 
(March  10),  decreeing  him  an  annual  mass  ;  and,  by 
a  second  decree,  ordaining  that  service  should  be 
annually  performed  on  the  2nd  of  May  ' '  for  the 
happy  state  of  the  said  most  renowned  prince,  and 
his  dearest  consort  Anne."* 

One  or  two  other  instances  may  be  cursorily 
mentioned.  At  Sheriff-Hutton,  where  he  had  im- 
prisoned the  ill-fated  Rivers,  he  added  ten  pounds 
a  year  to  the  salary  of  the  chantry  priest  of  ' '  our 
lady  chapel."  At  Pomfret,  the  town  in  which  he 
had  caused  Rivers  to  be  beheaded,  he  rebuilt  the 
chapel  and  house  of  a  pious  anchoress. f  On  the 
28th  of  March  we  find  him  issuing  an  order  for 
the  annual  payment  of  ten  marks  to  a  chaplain, 
whose  duty  it  was  ' '  to  sing  for  the  king  in  a  chapel 
before  the  holy  rood  at  Northampton."^:  Again, 
on  the  27th  of  May,  we  find  him  signing  a  second 
warrant  for  the  payment  of  twelve  marks  to  the 
friars  of  Richmond,  in  Yorkshire,  ' '  for  the  saying 
of  1000  masses  for  the  soul  of  King  Edward  IV.  "§ 
And  lastly,  apparently  about  the  same  time,  he 
founded  a  college  at  York  for  the  support  of  one 

*  Dyer's  Privileges  of  the  University  of  Cambridge,  vol.  i.  p.  41. 
f  Harl.  MSS.  quoted  in  S.  Turner's  Middle  Ages,  vol.  iv.  p.  10. 
J  Ibid. 
\  Ibid.     \Vhitaker's  Eichmond,  vol.  i.  p.  99. 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  257 

hundred  singing  priests,  to  chant  for  mercy  to  his 
soul.* 

These  princely  endowments  and  charities  have 
been  adduced  by  the  apologists  of  Richard  as 
proofs  that  he  was  innately  and  sincerely  pious. 
In  having  adopted,  therefore,  a  different,  and  we 
hope  not  an  uncharitable  view,  of  his  motives, 
there  are  one  or  two  points  which  we  should  bear 
in  mind.  We  must  recollect  that  the  usurper 
lived  in  an  age  in  which  men  hesitated  not  to 
commit  evil,  provided,  in  their  own  fallacious  judg- 
ment, good  might  result  from  it;  that  it  was  an 
age  in  which  men  contrived  to  reconcile  to  them- 
selves a  strict  outward  observance  of  their  religious 
obligations  with  the  perpetration  of  atrocious 
crimes;  an  age  in  which  the  Church  of  Rome 
authorized  the  sale  of  indulgences  to  a  very  inor- 
dinate extent,  and  when  the  purchase  of  masses, 
and  the  endowment  of  charities,  were  considered  as 
the  infallible  means  of  securing  centuries  of,  if  not 
plenary,  exemption  from  the  torments  of  a  future 
state.  Lastly,  in  estimating  the  motives  and  ac- 
tions of  such  men  as  Richard  III.,  we  should  never 
lose  sight  of  the  necessity  of  judging  them  accord- 
ing to  the  standard  of  morals  and  the  state  of 
society  which  existed  in  their  time,  and  not  accord- 
ing to  the  standard  of  our  own. 

But  the  days  were  fast  approaching  when  real 

*  Rossi  Hist.  Reg.  Ang.  p.  215. 


258  KING   EICHAKD   THE   THIKD. 

misfortunes,  in  addition  to  the  compunctions  of 
conscience,  were  destined  to  bow  the  usurper  to  the 
earth.  We  have  already  recorded  how  tenderly 
and  entirely  his  ambitious  hopes,  as  well  as  his 
parental  feelings,  were  centred  in  his  only  legiti- 
mate child,  the  young  Prince  of  Wales.  We  have 
already  stated,  that  to  transmit  the  crown  of  Eng- 
land to  his  child  and  to  his  child's  posterity,  was 
apparently  the  mainspring  of  all  his  actions,  the 
occasion  of  all  his  crimes.  We  have  seen  the  three 
estates  of  the  realm  solemnly  decreeing  and  declar- 
ing that  beloved  child  to  be  heir-apparent  to  the 
crown  and  royal  dignity.  But  even  this  authoritative 
and  emphatic  admission  of  his  rights  had  been  in- 
sufficient to  satisfy  the  doubts  and  lull  the  fears  of 
the  usurper.  Accordingly,  in  the  middle  of  Febru- 
ary, about  three  weeks  after  the  meeting  of  parlia- 
ment, we  find  him  assembling  ' '  nearly  all  the  lords 
of  the  realm,  both  spiritual  and  temporal,"  at  his 
palace  of  Westminster ;  where,  "  in  a  certain  lower 
room,  near  the  passage  which  leads  to  the  queen's 
apartments,  each  subscribed  his  name  to  a  kind  of 
new  oath  of  adherence  to  Edward,  the  king's  only 
son,  as  their  supreme  lord,  in  case  anything  should 
happen  to  his  father."* 

Some  six  weeks  only  from  this  period  passed 
away,  when  the  fair  child,  in  whom  hopes 
so  high  were  centred,  and  who  had  been  the  inno- 

*  Croyl.  Chron.  Cont.  p.  496. 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  259 

cent  cause  of  so  much  crime  and  misery,  was  seized 
by  an  illness  which  hurried  him  to  the  grave.  The 
chronicler  Rons  tells  us  that ' '  he  died  an  unhappy 
death."  He  was  apparently  only  in  his  eleventh 
year.  The  event  took  place  at  Middleham  Castle, 
that  favourite  residence  of  Richard,  in  which,  in 
his  boyhood,  he  had  first  become  enamoured  of 
Anne  Neville,  which  had  witnessed  his  bridal 
happiness,  and  under  the  roof  of  which  his  beloved 
child  first  saw  the  light.  At  the  time  when  the 
melancholy  event  took  place,  the  king  and  queen 
were  holding  their  court  in  Nottingham  Castle,  and 
were  consequently  denied  the  mournful  satisfaction 
of  watching  over  their  child  in  his  last  moments. 
Their  grief  at  his  loss  is  described  as  having  been 
excessive.  "  On  hearing  the  news  of  this  at  Not- 
tingham, where  they  were  then  residing,"  writes 
the  Croyland  chronicler,  ' '  you  might  have  seen  his 
father  and  mother  in  a  state  almost  bordering  on  mad- 
ness, by  reason  of  their  sudden  grief,  "f  It  was  prob- 
ably from  the  circumstance  of  Nottingham  Castle 
having  witnessed  his  great  affliction,  that  he  subse- 
quently gave  it  the  name  of  the  "  Castle  of  Care.":}: 
The  day  on  which  the  young  prince  expired  was 
the  9th  of  April,  the  same  day  of  the  same  month 
on  which,  in  the  preceding  year,  his  uncle,  King 

*  "  Morte  infausta."— Hist.  Angl.  Reg.  p.  217. 
t  Croyl.  Chron.  Cont.  p.  497. 
J  Hutton's  Bosworth.  p.  40. 

.V1l>f  ft 


260  KING   EICHAED   THE   THIED. 

Edward  IV.,  had  breathed  his  last.  The  coinci- 
dence was  certainly  a  remarkable  one.  Let  us  take 
it  for  granted,  for  the  sake  of  argument,  that  Rich- 
ard put  to  death  the  children  of  his  brother  chiefly 
for  the  purpose  of  aggrandizing  his  own,  and  where 
shall  we  find  retributive  justice  exemplified  by  a 
more  striking  instance  ?  Some  three  months  after- 
wards, when  Richard  was  called  upon  at  York  to 
put  his  signature  to  a  warrant  for  the  payment  of 
the  last  expenses  incurred  by  his  late  ' '  most  dear 
son,"  he  touchingly  added  to  those  words,  in  his 
own  handwriting,  ' '  wJiom  God  pardon. ' '  * 

The  remainder  of  the  year  passed  away  without 
any  extraordinary  event  occurring  to  chequer  the 
career  of  King  Richard.  He  kept  his  Christmas  at 
Westminster  with  great  magnificance,  enlivening 
the  old  palace  of  the  Confessor  with  a  succession  of 
banquets  and  balls.  At  the  festival  of  the  Epiph- 
any, he  is  especially  mentioned  as  presiding  at  a 
splendid  feast  in  the  great  hall  of  Rufus,  wearing 
a  crown  on  his  head.f  On  these  occasions,  the 
presence  of  the  Princess  Elizabeth,  now  a  beautiful 
girl  verging  on  her  nineteenth  year,  appears  to 
have  attracted  extraordinary  attention.  It  was  re- 
marked that,  although  the  law  of  the  land  had 
reduced  her  to  the  condition  of  a  private  gentle - 

*Harl.  MSS.  433,  p.  183,  quoted  in  Halsted's  Richard  III.  vol.  i.  p. 
325  ;  Buck  in  Kennet,  vol.  i.  p.  525,  note. 
|  Croyl.  Chron.  Cont.  p.  498. 


KING   KICHARD   THE   THIRD.  261 

woman,  she  was  not  only  treated  by  the  king  with 
marked  consideration,  but  that  he  caused  her  to  be 
arrayed  in  royal  robes,  and,  further,  that  they  cor- 
responded in  shape  and  colour  with  those  worn  by  the 
queen.  "Too  much  attention,"  writes  the  Croy- 
land  chronicler,  ' '  was  given  to  dancing  and  gaiety, 
and  vain  change  of  apparel  given  to  Queen  Anne  and 
the  Lady  Elizabeth,  the  eldest  daughter  of  the  late 
king,  being  of  similiar  colour  and  shape ;  a  thing 
that  caused  the  people  to  murmur,  and  the  nobles 
and  prelates  greatly  to  wonder  thereat."  These 
circumstances  naturally  created  suspicion  and 
alarm.  The  king's  anxiety  to  bequeath  an  heir  to 
the  throne  was  sufficiently  well  known.  It  was 
remembered  that  the  queen  had  been  barren  for 
nearly  eleven  years,  and  that  the  delicacy  of  her 
constitution  rendered  it  little  likely  that  she  would 
again  become  a  mother.  Richard  himself  gave  out 
that  the  physicians  had  enjoined  him  to  shun  her 
bed.  From  these  circumstances,  as  well  as  from 
their  knowledge  of  his  determined  and  unscrupu- 
lous character,  his  subjects  naturally  drew  infer- 
ences in  the  highest  degree  unfavourable  to  their 
sovereign.  In  a  word,  it  was  more  than  whispered 
that  his  intention  was  to  get  rid  of  his  queen, 
either  by  poison  or  a  divorce,  and  to  make  his 
beautiful  niece  the  partaker  of  his  throne.* 

*Croyland  Chron.  Cont.  pp.  498-9  ;  Polydore  Virgil,  p.  215;  Rous, 
Hist.  Reg.  Ang.  p.  215  ;  Me'moires  de  Commines,  tome  ii.  p.  160. 


262  KING   RICHAED   THE   THIKD. 

A  few  days  after  Christinas,  while  the  world  was 
still  discussing  this  delicate  topic,  it  was  suddenly 
announced  that  the  queen  had  been  seized  with  a 
serious  indisposition.  On  the  16th  of  March  she 
died  in  Westminster  Palace,  at  the  early  age  of 
twenty-eight.*  Her  husband  honoured  her  by  a 
magnificent  funeral  in  the  neighbouring  abbey,  and 
is  said  to  have  been  so  affected  as  to  shed  tears,  f 
That  his  subjects  should  have  attributed  those  tears 
to  hypocrisy,  and  the  death  of  his  queen  to  poison, 
may,  under  all  the  circumstances,  be  readily  imag- 
ined. The  charges,  however,  which  have  been 
brought  against  Richard  of  having  shortened  her 
life,  we  believe  to  be  alike  unfounded  and  unjust. 
Not  only  is  there  a  want  of  evidence  to  convict  him 
of  so  heinous  a  crime,  but,  on  the  contrary,  there 
is  every  reason  to  believe  that  he  loved  her  sin- 
cerely, that  they  lived  happily  together,  and  that 
she  died  a  natural  death.  As  far  as  is  known,  she 
was  the  sharer  of  his  anxious  and  solitary  hours ; 
while  history  proves  that,  so  far  from  his  having 
neglected  her,  she  constantly  sat  with  him  at  the 
banquet,  or  walked  side  by  side  with  him  in  pro- 
cession in  the  season  of  his  splendour.  Prejudiced 
as  were  the  chroniclers  of  the  fifteenth  century 
against  Richard,  not  only  do  they  prefer  no  charge 

*  She  was  born  on  the  llth  of  June  1456.  Kous  Koll.  Art.  62,  Duke 
of  Manchester's  copy. 

|  Baker's  Chronicle,  p.  232. 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  263 

against  him  of  cruelty  or  neglect,  but  no  hint,  we 
believe,  is  to  be  found  in  their  pages  of  the  married 
life  of  the  king  and  queen  having  been  disturbed 
by  domestic  dissensions,  by  incompatibility  of 
temper,  or  by  jealousy  on  the  part  of  Anne.  But 
supposing  it  be  true  that  he  secretly  wished  to  sup- 
plant her  by  a  younger  and  lovelier  bride,  he  had 
only  to  wait  till  nature  had  performed  its  part. 
For  many  weeks,  it  would  seem,  her  days  on  earth 
had  been  numbered.  At  an  early  stage  of  her  ill- 
ness, her  physicians  had  expressed  their  conviction 
that  it  was  unlikely  that  she  would  survive  till 
the  spring.  Her  constitution,  like  that  of  her  sis- 
ter, the  Duchess  of  Clarence,  seems  to  have  had  a 
tendency  to  consumption ;  and  when,  in  addition  to 
these  circumstances,  we  learn  that  her  health  and 
spirits  were  sensibly  affected  by  the  death  of  her 
only  child,  can  there  be  a  more  probable  conclusion 
than  that  Anne  Neville  died  a  natural  death  ?  She 
languished,  we  are  told,  "in  weakness  and  extrem- 
ity of  sorrow,  until  she  seemed  rather  to  overtake 
death,  than  death  her."*  Moreover,  if  Richard 
really  murdered  the  wife  of  his  choice,  not  only 
would  the  crime  seem  to  have  been  an  unnecessary 
one,  but  to  have  been  also  opposed  to  his  interests. 
When  we  call  to  mind  the  remarkable  manner  in 
which  popular  suspicion  had  been  awakened  by  the 
gallant  appearance  of  the  young  Princess  Elizabeth 

*  Buck  in  Kennet,  vol.  i.  p.  534. 


264  KING    EICHAED    THE  THIRD. 

at  court,  we  naturally  ask  ourselves  whether  it  is 
probable  that  so  politic  a  prince  as  Richard  would 
have  invited  the  detestation  of  his  subjects,  by  put- 
ting his  wife  out  of  the  way  at  the  very  moment 
when  he  knew  that  they  were  charging  him  with 
the  foul  intention,  and  actually  expecting  the  event. 
Richard  himself  not  only  saw  the  question  in  this 
light,  but  is  said  to  have  expressed  apprehensions 
lest  the  death  of  his  queen,  in  this  state  of  the  pub- 
lic mind,  might  prove  fatal  to  his  popularity. 

It  seems  to  have  been  during  the  queen's  last  ill- 
ness, and  probably  after  the  physicians  had  ex- 
pressed their  opinion  that  her  case  was  a  hopeless 
one,  that  Richard  first  confided  to  his  friends  his 
project  of  marrying  his  niece.  That  he  seriously 
conceived  that  project,  there  cannot,  we  think,  ex- 
ist any  doubt.  The  fact  is  asserted  by  a  contem- 
porary writer,  the  chronicler  of  Croyland,  as  well 
as  by  Polydore  Virgil  and  Grafton.*  Even  Rich- 
ard's apologist,  Buck,  admits  that  "it  was  enter- 
tained and  well-liked  by  the  king  and  his  friends 
a  good  while. "f  It  has  been  argued,  indeed,  that 
it  was  directly  opposed  to  Richard's  interests  to 
marry  Elizabeth ;  since  by  so  doing  he  would  have 
shown  himself  capable  of  inconsistency  so  great, 
and  of  a  change  of  tactics  so  flagrant,  as  to  have  en- 

*  Croyl.  Cont.  p.  499  ;    Grafton's  Chronicle,  vol.    ii.  p.  144 ;    Poly- 
dore Virgil,  lib.  xxv.  p.  707. 
|  Buck  in  Kennet,  vol.  i.  p.  567. 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  265 

dangered  his  political  existence.  His  oiily  title  to 
the  throne,  it  has  been  insisted,  was  derived  from 
the  fact  of  the  children  of  his  brother  Edward  hav- 
ing been  declared  by  parliament  to  be  illegitimate, 
and,  consequently,  had  he  married  the  Princess 
Elizabeth,  he  would  have  reversed  the  act  which 
stigmatized  her  with  bastardy;  thus  tacitly  ac- 
knowledging her  claims  to  the  crown,  and  pro- 
claiming himself  an  usurper.  ' '  His  worst  enemies, ' ' 
it  has  been  said,  "have  contented  themselves  with 
representing  him  as  an  atrocious  villain,  but  not 
one  of  them  has  described  him  as  a  fool."* 

But  Richard  had  already  been  guilty  of  a  similar 
act  of  inconsistency,  by  nominating  as  his  successor 
the  attainted  Earl  of  Warwick,  the  son  of  his 
elder  brother  the  Duke  of  Clarence. f  Richard's 
title  to  the  sceptre  rested  quite  as  much  on  the  cir- 
cumstance of  the  issue  of  Clarence  having  been  de- 
barred by  parliament  from  the  succession,  as  on 
the  fact  that  the  issue  of  his  brother  Edward  had 
been  declared  illegitimate.  By  nominating,  there- 
fore, the  Earl  of  Warwick  to  be  his  successor,  he 
virtually  admitted  the  injustice  of  that  attainder, 

*  Privy  Purse  Expenses  of  Elizabeth  of  York ;  Memoir  prefixed 
to,  by  Sir  Harris  Nicolas,  p.  49. 

f  Richard  subsequently  altered  the  succession  in  favour  of  another 
nephew,  John  Earl  of  Lincoln,  the  eldest  son  of  his  sister  Elizabeth, 
Duchess  of  Suffolk.  In  the  following  reign,  the  Earl  of  Lincoln  raised 
the  standard  of  revolt  against  Henry  VII.,  and  fell,  in  the  lifetime  of 
his  father,  at  the  battle  of  Stoke,  16th  of  June  1487. 


266  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

and  tacitly  acknowledged  the  superior  claims  of 
his  nephew  to  the  sovereign  power.  Moreover, 
there  occur  to  us  more  than  one  weighty  reason  why 
Richard  should  have  been  desirous  of  making 
Elizabeth  his  wife.  "  It  appeared,"  says  the  Croy- 
land  chronicler,  "  that  in  no  other  way  could  his 
kingly  power  be  established,  or  the  hopes  of  his 
rival  be  put  an  end  to."*  This  rival,  it  is  needless 
to  remark,  was  Henry  Earl  of  Richmond,  who  had 
pledged  his  troth  to  Elizabeth,  and  whose  union 
with  her,  should  it  take  place,  must  necessarily 
combine  against  Richard  the  two  houses  of  York 
and  Lancaster.  What  could  be  more  natural,  then, 
than  that  Richard,  by  marrying  Elizabeth  himself, 
should  have  sought  to  wrest  from  Henry  the  only 
weapon  which  rendered  him  formidable  ?  The  parti- 
sans of  the  house  of  York  might  at  any  time  rise  in 
revolt  to  raise  Elizabeth  to  the  throne.  But  let 
Elizabeth  once  ascend  the  throne  of  England  as  the 
consort  of  Richard,  and  the  crown  be  secured  to  her 
children,  and  the  motives  for  rebellion  would  cease 
to  exist,  the  peril  which  threatened  him  be  at  an 
end.  So  convinced  does  Henry  appear  to  have  been 
that  it  was  Richard's  intention  to  marry  his  niece, 
and  that  their  union  was  inevitable,  that  we  iind 
him  seeking  in  marriage  the  Lady  Catherine  Her- 
bert, daughter  of  the  late  William  Earl  of  Pem- 
broke. Surely  he  must  have  been  fully  satisfied 

*  Croyl.  Chron.  Cont.  p.  499. 


KING    RICHARD    THE   THIRD.  267 

that  his  betrothed  was  irrevocably  engaged  to 
another,  and  that  all  further  pursuit  was  hopeless, 
or  he  would  never  have  broken  a  troth  which  he 
had  so  selemnly  pledged,  nor  have  ceased  to  prose- 
cute an  alliance  by  nieams  of  which  he  had  fondly 
hoped  to  raise  himself  to  a  throne.* 

Historians,  hostile  to  the  memory  and  character 
of  Richard  III.,  delight  in  stigmatizing  his  project 
of  marrying  his  niece  as  a  wicked  and  incestuous 
act.  But  surely  there  is  much  injustice  in  the 
charge.  The  marriage  of  an  uncle  with  a  niece 
was,  doubtless,  in  the  fifteenth  century,  as  it  has 
been  in  our  time,  an  event  of  very  unusual  occur- 
rence. Moreover,  being  forbidden  by  the  canon 
law,  such  an  union  was  little  likely  to  be  regarded 
with  favour  by  the  people  of  England.  But,  on 
the  other  hand,  not  only  is  a  dispensing  power 
vested  in  the  pope,  which  he  is  empowered  to  ex- 
ercise whenever  he  thinks  proper,  but  it  must  have 
been  notorious  at  the  time  that  marriages  between 
uncle  and  nieces  had  often  before  been  permitted. 
Surely,  therefore,  if  Richard  sought  to  make  his 
niece  Elizabeth  his  wife,  the  fault,  if  fault  there 

*  That  Kichard  paid  his  addresses  to  his  niece  is  not  denied  by 
Lord  Orford,  though  he  is  of  opinion  that  it  was  not  with  any  in- 
tention to  make  her  his  wife.  "  I  should  suppose,"  writes  the  noble 
historian,  "  that  Richard,  learning  the  projected  marriage  of  Elizabeth 
and  the  Earl  of  Richmond,  amused  the  young  princess  with  the  hopes 
of  making  her  his  queen. " — Historic  Doubts,  Lord  Orford's  Works, 
vol.  ii.  p.  151. 


268  KIISTG   KICHARD   THE   THIED. 

existed,  lay  not  in  himself,  but  in  the  church  on 
whose  infallibility,  as  one  of  its  disciples,  he  was 
bound  to  place  reliance.* 

According  to  the  Croyland  chronicler,  the  per- 
sons from  whom  Richard  encountered  the  most 
strenuous  opposition  in  this  delicate  matter  were 
his  creatures,  Sir  Richard  Ratcliffe  and  Sir  Wil- 
liam Catesby.  These  persons  had  been  very  instru- 
mental in  bringing  Earl  Rivers  and  Sir  Richard 
Grey  to  the  block,  and  consequently,  as,  in  the 
event  of  her  being  raised  to  the  throne,  Elizabeth 
would  naturally  seek  to  punish  the  instigators  of 
the  deaths  of  her  uncle  and  brother,  they  had 
3  very  reason  to  prevent  the  marriage.  Accord- 
ingly, they  are  said  to  have  represented  to  their 
royal  master  how  entirely  the  English  clergy  were 
prejudiced  against  such  marriages;  and  further, 
that,  as  the  majority  of  his  subjects  regarded  them 
as  incestuous,  they  might  be  induced  to  rise  in  open 
rebellion  against  his  authority.  They  even  went  so 
far,  we  are  told,  as  to  produce  before  him  certain 
doctors  of  divinity,  who  denied  that  the  pontiff  had 
any  power  of  granting  a  dispensation  where  the 
degree  of  consanguinity  was  so  near.f  Already, 

*  "In  our  time,"  writes  Buck,  "the  daughter  and  heir  of  Duke  In- 
fantasgo,  in  Spain,  was  married  to  his  brother  Don  Aide  Mendoza ;  and 
more  lately,  the  Earl  of  Miranda  married  his  brother's  daughter.  In 
the  house  of  Austria,  marriages  of  this  kind  have  been  very  usual  and 
thought  lawful." — Buck  in  Kennel,  vol.  i.  p.  568. 

f  Croyl.  Chron.  Cont.  p.  499. 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  269 

argued  his  confidants,  suspicions — idle  and  in- 
famous, no  doubt — were  current  that  his  late  queen 
had  met  with  an  untimely  end ;  and,  consequently, 
his  marriage  with  his  niece  would  unquestionably 
endue  them  with  a  painful  and  dangerous  impor- 
tance. There  were  men  still  living,  they  said — and 
among  them  some  of  his  most  faithful  partisans — 
who  still  held  in  affectionate  veneration  the  memory 
of  the  great  Earl  of  Warwick,  and  wrho  would  ill 
brook  the  suspicion  that  his  gentle  daughter  had 
been  consigned  to  an  early  grave  for  the  purpose  of 
making  room  for  a  more  eligible  rival.* 

Richard  was  the  least  likely  of  all  living  men  to 
be  diverted  from  his  purpose  by  the  arguments  or 
solicitations  of  others.  But  whether  convinced  by 
the  soundness  of  the  reasoning  of  Ratcliffe  and 
Catesby,  or  whether,  as  is  probable,  his  own  strong 
sense  suggested  still  weightier  grounds  for  breaking 
off  his  projected  marriage,  he  resolved  not  only  on 
relinquishing  his  purpose,  but  to  repair  as  much  as 
possible  the  injury  which  his  reputation  had  suf- 
fered, by  boldly  declaring  to  his  subjects  that  no 
such  project  had  ever  entered  his  head.  Accord- 
ingly, in  the  great  hall  in  the  priory  of  St.  John's, 
Clerkenwell,  in  the  presence  of  the  lord -may  or  and 
the  principal  citizens  of  London,  he  rose,  and,  ' '  in 
a  loud  and  distinct  voice, ' '  solemnly  declared  that 
a  marriage  with  his  niece  had  never  entered  into  his 

*  Croyl.  Chron.  Cont.  p.  499. 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

contemplation.*  At  the  same  time  he  addressed  a 
letter  to  the  citizens  of  York,  in  which  he  not  only 
exhorted  them  to  give  no  credit  to  the  ' '  false  and 
abominable  language  and  lies ' '  which  were  pre- 
sumptuously circulated  to  his  disadvantage,  but 
enjoined  them  to  bring  to  condign  punishment  the 
' '  authors  and  makers  ' '  of  such  unwarrantable 
slanders,  f 

This  especial  appeal  to  the  citizens  of  York  is 
curious  and  interesting.  Evil  times,  Richard  was 
aware,  were  threatening  him.  He  knew  not  how 
soon  he  might  require  the  aid  of  that  important 
city.  From  the  days  in  which  he  held  high  office 
among  them,  it  had  ever  been  the  policy  of  Richard 
to  secure  the  confidence  and  attachment  of  the  peo- 
ple of  the  north.  It  was  the  north  which  had  sent 
him  up  the  levies  which  kept  the  Woodvilles  in 
awe  at  the  time  of  his  usurpation.^:  It  was  on  his 

*  Croyl.  Chron.  Cont.  p.  500. 

t  Drake's  Ebor.  p.  119. 

J  "Soon  after,  for  fear  of  the  queen's  blood,  and  other,  which  he  had 
in  jealousy,  he  sent  for  a  strength  of  men  out  of  the  north,  the  which 
came  shortly  to  London  a  little  before  his  coronation,  and  mustered  in 
the  Moorfields,  well  upon  4000  men." — Fabyan,  p.  516.  According  to 
Sir  Thomas  More,  these  northern  levies  presented  but  a  sorry  appear- 
ance :  *'  To  be  sure  of  his  enemies,  he  sent  for  5000  men  out  of  the 
north,  who  came  up  to  town  ill  clothed  and  worse  harnessed,  their 
horses  poor  and  their  arms  rusty,  who,  being  mustered  in  Finsbury 
Fields,  were  the  contempt  of  the  spectators." — Sir  T.  More  in  Kennet, 
vol.  i.  p.  500.  When  Kichard  subsequently  visited  York,  in  the  month 
of  September  1483,  we  find  him  hanging  some  of  these  rude  men-at- 
arms  on  account  of  certain  lawless  proceedings  of  which  they  had  been 
guilty  on  their  march  back  to  their  native  city.  Drake's  Ebor.  p.  116. 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  271 

friends  in  the  north  that  he  had  almost  exclusively 
conferred  the  possessions  which  lapsed  to  the  crown 
by  the  attainder  of  Buckingham  and  his  associates  ;* 
and  lastly,  when  Ratcliffe  and  Catesby  sought  to 
divert  him  from  marrying  the  Princess  Elizabeth, 
the  stress  which  we  find  them  laying  on  the  risk 
which  he  ran  of  forfeiting  the  allegiance  of 
"the  people  of  the  north,"  proves  how  great 
was  the  importance  which  he  attached  to  their 
loyalty,  f 

In  the  mean  time,  not  only  were  secret  conspira- 
cies forming  against  the  usurper's  government  at 
home,  but  abroad,  the  Earl  of  Richmond  and  his 
partisans  were  making  active  preparations  for  a 
second  invasion  of  his  kingdom.  So  far  back,  in- 
deed, as  the  preceding  Christmas,  when  Richard 
was  enlivening  the  old  palace  of  Westminster  with 
' '  dancing  and  gaiety, ' '  his  spies  in  Brittany  had 
secretly  advised  him  that,  in  the  course  of  the  en- 
suing summer,  a  descent  would  unquestionably  be 
attempted  on  the  shores  of  England.  If  guilt  be 
usually  the  parent  of  fear,  Richard  of  Gloucester  at 
least  was  an  exception  to  the  rule.  To  him,  as  to 
his  brother  Edward,  the  approach  of  danger  and 
the  hour  of  battle  are  said  to  have  been  sources  of 
pleasurable  excitement.  Instead  of  betraying  any 
apprehension  at  the  threatened  invasion  of  his  king- 

*  Croyl.  Chron.  Cont.  p.  496.  f  Ibid.  p.  499. 


272  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

dom,  he  is  said  to  have  looked  forward  with  posi- 
tive satisfaction  to  the  day  which  was  destined  to 
settle  for  ever  the  dispute  between  him  and  the  heir 
of  Lancaster.  The  danger,  however,  was  not  as  yet 
so  imminent  as  to  require  his  presence  in  the  field  ; 
and  accordingly,  with  the  exception  of  three  brief 
residences  at  Windsor,  we  find  him  continuing  to 
hold  his  court  at  Westminster  till  the  month  of 
May.  In  the  mean  time  he  energetically  set  to 
work  to  defend  the  shores  of  England  from  foreign 
invasion,  as  well  as  to  prevent  popular  commotions 
at  home.  So  admirable  were  his  arrangements, 
that  when  eventually  the  Earl  of  Richmond  effected 
his  memorable  landing,  no  single  town  in  England 
or  Wales  rose  in  insurrection.  To  prevent  the 
Princess  Elizabeth  falling  into  the  hands  of  his  ene- 
mies, he  sent  her  to  Sheriff-Hutton,  a  "  stately  man- 
sion ' '  of  his  own  in  Yorkshire,  where  his  northern 
friends  were  all-powerful,  and  where  her  cousin, 
the  young  Earl  of  Warwick,  was  already  detained 
in  safe  though  honourable  durance.  An  oak,  called 
the  "Warwick  oak,"  was  formerly,  and  perhaps 
may  still  be,  pointed  out  in  the  park,  as  the  bound- 
ary tree  which  limited  the  walks  of  the  heir  of 
the  ill-fated  Clarence  during  his  imprisonment 
at  Sheriff-Hutton.  When,  subsequently,  the 
two  cousins  were  conducted  from  their  prison- 
house,  very  different  was  their  destiny.  Elizabeth 
was  led  forth  to  ascend  a  throne ;  the  unfortunate 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  273 

earl   to  perish,    a  few  years    afterwards,    on  the 
scaffold.* 

No  sooner  did  the  hour  of  danger  draw  near  than 
Richard  prepared  to  leave  London,  which  city  he 
quitted  "shortly  before  the  feast  of  Pentecost,  "f 
About  the  end  of  May  we  find  him  at  Coventry, 
and  on  the  6th  of  June  at  Kenilworth.  Notting- 
ham, on  account  of  its  central  position,  he  selected 
for  his  headquarters.  From  hence  he  might  readily 
march  to  the  part  of  the  kingdom  where  his  pres- 
ence was  most  required  or  where  danger  was  most 
imminent.  In  due  time  he  had  completed  his 
preparations  for  defence.  Large  bodies  of  armed 
men  marched  from  place  to  place;  the  king's 
cruisers  and  vessels  of  war  commanded  the  entire 
southern  coast ;  every  port,  at  which  there  seemed 
a  probability  of  Henry  attempting  to  land,  was 

*  The  fate  of  the  Earl  of  Warwick  has  been  already  alluded  to. 
This  unhappy  prince,  the  last  male  heir  of  the  royal  line  of  Planta- 
genet,  was  a  prisoner  in  the  Tower  in  the  year  1499,  when  its  gates 
opened  to  admit  the  famous  adventurer,  Perkin  Warbeck.  The  two 
youths,  having  found  means  to  confer  with  each  other  in  secret,  con- 
trived a  plan  for  escaping  from  the  gloomy  fortress.  Their  project,  how- 
ever, unfortunately  was  discovered,  and  the  Earl  of  Warwick,  whose  only 
known  offence  had  been  a  natural  longing  for  life  and  liberty,  was  brought 
to  his  trial,  on  the  21st  of^November,  before  the  Earl  of  Oxford,  as 
High  Steward  of  England.  He  was  condemned  to  death,  and,  on  the 
28th  of  the  same  month,  was  beheaded  on  Tower  Hill.  Forty-four 
years  afterwards,  his  only  sister,  the  Lady  Margaret  Plantagenet,  Count- 
ess of  Salisbury,  was  beheaded  on  the  same  spot,  at  the  advanced  age  of 
seventy.  Such  was  the  tragical  termination  of  the  great  house  of  Plan- 
tagenet ! 

f  Croyl.  Chron.  Cont.  p.  500. 


274  KING   EICHAED   THE   THIRD. 

closed.  Mandates  were  issued,  calling  upon  every 
man  in  England,  who  had  been  born  to  the  inheri- 
tance of  landed  property,  to  join  the  king's  stand- 
ard without  fail,  and  threatening  death,  and  the 
forfeiture  of  their  possessions,  in  the  event  of  dis- 
obedience.* Lastly,  single  horsemen  were  stationed 
at  distances  of  twenty  miles  from  one  another,  who, 
being  instructed  to  ride  at  their  utmost  speed,  but 
on  no  account  to  pass  their  restricted  limits,  were 
thus  enabled  to  forward  a  letter  from  one  to  another 
at  the  rate  of  two  hundred  miles  in  forty-eight 
hours,  f 

Richard  had  recourse  also  to  the  pen  as  well  as 
to  the  sword.  In  a  proclamation,  dated  West- 
minster, the  23rd  of  June,  he  artfully  appeals  to 
the  fears  and  interests  of  his  subjects.  He  de- 
nounces Henry's  adherents  as  rebels  and  traitors — 
men  disabled  and  attainted  by  the  high  court  of 
parliament,  and  many  of  them  notoriously  murder- 
ers, adulterers,  and  extortioners.  Henry  himself  he 
stigmatizes  as  one  Henry  Tudor,  of  bastard  blood 
both  on  his  father's  and  his  mother's  side,  and 
possessing  no  title  whatever  to  the  royal  dignity. 
The  Earl  is  further  charged  with  having  entered 
into  a  covenant  with  the  French  king  to  give  up,  on 
the  part  of  England,  all  title  and  claim  to  the  crown 
and  realm  of  France,  together  with  the  duchies  of 
Normandy,  Anjou,  and  Maine ;  to  surrender  Gas- 

*  Croyl.  Chron.  Cont.  p.  501.  f  Ibid.  p.  497. 


KING   KICHAED   THE   THIKD.  275 

cony,  Guienne,  and  Calais,  and  to  remove  for  ever 
the  arms  of  France  from  those  of  England.  *  'And, ' ' 
the  proclamation  proceeds,  "in  more  proof  and 
showing  of  his  said  purpose  of  conquest,  the  said 
Henry  Tudor  hath  given,  as  well  to  diverse  of  the 
said  king's  enemies  as  to  his  said  rebels  and  trai- 
tors, archbishoprics,  bishoprics,  and  other  dignities 
spiritual ;  and  also  the  duchies,  earldoms,  baronies, 
and  other  possessions  and  inheritances  of  knights, 
esquires,  gentlemen,  and  other  the  king's  true  sub- 
jects within  the  realm;"  the  intention  of  the 
invaders  being  "to  do  the  most  cruel  murders, 
slaughters,  robberies,  and  disherisons,  that  were 
ever  seen  in  any  Christian  realm."  Under  these 
circumstances,  the  king  entreats  and  commands  all 
true  Englishmen  to  furnish  themselves  with  arms 
for  the  defence  of  their  wives,  goods,  and  heredita- 
ments ;  assuring  his  ' '  true  and  faithful  liegemen ' ' 
that  he  himself  will  expose  his  royal  person,  as 
becomes  a  courageous  prince,  to  all  hazard  and 
labour,  for  the  puqjose  of  subduing  the  said  ene- 
mies, rebels,  and  traitors,  and  establishing  the  wel- 
fare and  safety  of  his  subjects.* 

While  the  people  of  England  were  still  engaged 
in  discussing  the  merits  of  this  remarkable  docu- 
ment, information  reached  Richard  from  France 
that  the  Earl  of  Richmond  had  taken  his  departure 
for  Harfleur,  and  that  his  ships  had  assembled  at 

*  Paston  Letters,  vol.  ii.  p.  152. 


276  KI1STG   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

the  mouth  of  the  Seine.  On  the  6th  of  August 
they  reached  Milforcl  Haven.  ' '  On  hearing  of  their 
arrival,"  says  the  Croyland  chronicler,  "the  king 
rejoiced,  or  at  least  seemed  to  rejoice ;  writing  to 
his  adherents  in  every  quarter  that  now  the  long 
wished-for  day  had  arrived  for  him  to  triumph  over 
so  contemptible  a  faction."*  At  all  events,  if  he 
failed  to  conquer,  he  was  resolved  to  die  as  became 


a  hero  and  a  king. 


Croyl.  Chron.  Cont.  p.  501. 


CHAPTER   VII. 

THE   DESOLATION   AND   DEATH    OF    KICHARD    OF 
GLOUCESTER. 

Tuesday,  the  16th  of  August  1485,  King 
Richard  marched  out  of  the  town  of  Nottingham 
at  the  head  of  twelve  thousand  men.  Clad  in  ar- 
mour of  burnished  steel,  and  seated  on  a  magnifi- 
cent snow-white  charger,  the  famous  ' '  white  Sur- 
rey ' '  of  the  poet,  his  appearance,  attended  by  his 
glittering  body-guard,  is  said  to  have  been  emi- 
nently striking.  His  armour  was  the  same  which 
he  had  worn  at  the  battle  of  Tewkesbury.*  A 
kingly  diadem  encircled  his  helmet.  Above  him 
floated  the  royal  banner,  while  around  him  waved 
a  variety  of  standards,  radiant  with  the  ';  silver 
boar,"  his  peculiar  cognizance,  and  other  insignia 
of  the  house  of  Plantagenet.  About  sunset  he 
entered  Leicester. 

On  the  following  day  Richard  led  his  army  from 
Leicester  to  Elmsthorpe,  where  he  encamped  for 
the  night.  On  Thursday,  the  18th,  he  advanced 
to  Stableton,  about  a  mile  and  a  half  from  the  field 
of  Bosworth.  Here  he  pitched  his  camp  upon  some 

*  Button's  Bosworth,  Nichols'  ed.  p.  82. 

277 


278  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

ground  called  the  Bradshaws,  and  here  he  remained 
during  the  two  following  days,  employed  in  throw- 
ing up  breastworks  and  making  other  preparations 
for  the  approaching  battle. 

In  the  mean  time,  the  Earl  of  Richmond  had 
broken  up  his  camp  at  Atherstone,  and  had  ad- 
vanced his  army,  amounting  to  about  seven  thou- 
sand men,  to  the  field  of  Bosworth,  then  called  Red- 
more  Plain,  from  the  red  colour  of  its  soil.*  The 
same  evening,  Richard  pushed  forward  his  army  to 
a  spot  called  Ambeame,  or  Anbein  Hill,  where 
"  he  pitched  his  field."  Thus,  on  the  evening  of 
the  21st,  the  day  immediately  before  the  battle, 
the  two  armies  lay  encamped  in  full  view  of  each 
other.  The  forces  of  the  usurper  were  posted  to 
the  northeast,  those  of  the  Earl  of  Richmond  faced 
them  on  the  southwest.  Lord  Stanley,  and  his 
brother  Sir  William  Stanley,  took  up  independent 
and  menacing  positions.  On  the  south,  "  mydde- 
way  betwixt  the  two  battaylles,"f  Lord  Stanley 
pitched  his  camp,  somewhat  nearer  to  the  left 
of  the  king  than  to  the  right  of  Richmond,  as 
if  with  the  intention  of  supporting  his  sovereign. 
Sir  William  Stanley  faced  him  on  the  north.  The 
former  having  married  Margaret  Countess  of  Rich- 
mond, was  consequently  stepfather  to  the  invader. 
This,  and  apparently  other  circumstances,  having 

*  Mutton's  Bosworth,  Nichols'  ed.  p.  68. 

t  Polydore  Virgil,  p.  222,  Camd.  Soc.  Trans 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  279 

aroused  suspicions  of  Stanley's  fidelity  in  the  mind 
of  Richard,  he  had,  some  days  since,  seized  the 
person  of  his  eldest  son,  Lord  Strange,  whom  he 
now  retained  in  his  camp  as  a  hostage  for  his  fath- 
er's good  behaviour.  Thus,  suspicious  of  one  of 
the  most  powerful  of  his  subjects,  and  apprehensive 
lest  the  evident  disaffection  of  the  Stanleys  might 
extend  to  others,  Richard,  doubtless,  would  only 
too  willingly  have  compelled  Richmond  to  join 
issue  in  an  immediate  encounter,  and  thus  have 
emancipated  himself  from  a  suspense  which  must 
have  been  almost  intolerable.  It  wTas  Sunday, 
however,  and  a  feeling  of  veneration  or  superstition, 
such  as  had  forbidden  him  to  march  from  Notting- 
ham on  the  preceding  Monday,  the  ' '  Assumption 
of  our  Lady,"*  probably  prevented  his  attacking 
his  enemy  and  shedding  blood  on  the  Sabbath. 

Though  wearing  the  kingly  crown,  and  at  the 
head  of  a  magnificent  army,  there  was  probably 
not  one  of  his  subjects  whose  heart  was  so  comfort- 
less ;  not  one  wTho  was  more  entirely  alienated  from 
the  sympathies  of  his  fellow-creatures,  than  at  this 
period  was  Richard  of  Gloucester.  The  death  of 
his  nephews  had  estranged  from  him  all  who  were 
nearest  allied  to  him  in  blood.  The  fair  boy,  in 
whom  all  his  ambitious  hopes  had  centred,  had 
suddenly  been  hurried  to  the  tomb.  The  wife  of 
his  choice  had  speedily  followed  him.  Treason  was 

*  Paston  Letters,  vol.  ii.  p.  156. 


280  KING   KICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

rife  among  those  whom  he  had  sought  to  love,  and 
on  whom  he  had  conferred  the  greatest  favours. 
In  this,  then,  the  hour  of  his  desolation — yearning, 
perhaps,  for  the  presence  of  some  human  being  on 
whose  affections  he  had  a  claim — he  is  said  to  have 
recalled  to  mind  an  illegitimate  son,  for  whom  he 
had  hitherto  shown  no  particular  predilection,  and 
to  have  sent  for  him  to  his  camp.  The  circum- 
stances connected  with  their  interview  have  their 
peculiar  interest,  and  will  be  presently  related. 

The  night  before  the  battle  of  Bosworth  was  the 
last  of  Richard's  existence :  it  was  probably  also 
the  most  terrible. 

"  To  the  guilty  king,  that  black  fore-running  night, 
Appeared  the  dreadful  ghosts  of  Henry  and  his  son, 
Of  his  own  brother  George,  and  his  two  nephews  done 
Most  cruelly  to  death  ;  and  of  his  wife  and  friend 
Lord  Hastings,  with  pale  hands  prepared  as  they  would  rend 
Him  piecemeal ;  at  which  oft  he  roared  in  his  sleep." 

DRAYTON. 

That  Richard  passed  a  perturbed  and  miserable 
night,  we  have  good  evidence  for  believing.  We 
learn,  from  high  authority,  that  of  late  he  had 
been  an  habitually  restless  sleeper ;  * '  that  he  took 
ill  rest  a-nights;  lay  long  wakening  and  musing, 
sore  wearied  with  care  and  watch,  rather  slumbered 
than  slept."*  He  was  evidently  constitutionally 
nervous  and  irritable.  Fits  of  abstraction,  in  which 

*  Sir  T.  More's  Hist,  of  Richard  III.  p.  134. 


KING   RICHARD   THE  THIRD.  281 

it  was  his  habit  to  bite  his  under  lip,  and  to  draw 
his  dagger  hurriedly  up  and  down  in  its  scabbard, 
were  not  unfrequent  with  him.*  That  a  man, 
therefore,  of  a  morbid  and  excitable  temperament, 
—surrounded,  moreover,  as  he  was  by  secret 
traitors,  and  with  his  life  and  crown  dependent 
on  the  issue  of  the  morrow's  conflict, — should  have 
passed  an  uneasy  night,  and  have  been  troubled 
with  distressing  dreams,  may  be  readily  compre- 
hended. But,  on  the  other  hand,  that  he  was 
visited,  or  believed  himself  to  have  been  visited,  by 
the  apparitions  of  those  whom  it  was  assumed  that 
he  had  cruelly  murdered,  rests  on  no  sounder 
foundation  than  the  poetic  nights  of  Drayton  and 
Shakspeare.  The  old  chroniclers,  though  they 
dwell  on  the  night  of  horrors  which  he  spent, 
make  no  mention  of  his  having  been  haunted  by 
the  spectres  of  his  imaginary  victims.  "  The  fame 
went, ' '  writes  Polydore  Virgil,  ' '  that  he  had  the 
same  night  a  dreadful  and  a  terrible  dream  ;  for  it 
seemed  to  him,  being  asleep,  that  he  saw  divers 
images,  like  terrible  devils,  which  pulled  and  haled 
him,  not  suffering  him  to  take  any  quiet  or  rest."f 
Again,  according  to  the  most  faithful  chronicler  of 
the  period,  "  As  it  is  generally  stated,  in  the  morn- 

*  Kennet,  vol.  i.  p.  513. 

f  Grafton,  vol.  ii.  p.  150.  "  It  is  reported,"  writes  Polydore  Virgil, 
"  that  King  Richard  had  that  night  a  terrible  dream  ;  for  he  thought, 
in  his  sleep,  that  he  saw  horrible  images,  as  it  were,  of  evil  spectres 
haunting  evidently  about  him." — P.  Virgil,  p.  221,  Camd.  Soc.  Trans. 


282  KING   KICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

ing  he  declared  that  he  had  seen  dreadful  visions, 
and  had  imagined  himself  surrounded  by  a  multi- 
tude of  demons."* 

"  By  the  Apostle  Paul,  shadows  to-night 
Have  struck  more  terror  to  the  soul  of  Richard, 
Than  can  the  substance  of  ten  thousand  soldiers, 
Armed  in  proof,  and  led  by  shallow  Richmond." 

King  Richard  III.  Act.  v.  Sc.  3. 

It  was  in  the  grey  dawn  of  the  morning  that 
Richard  started  from  his  troubled  slumbers. 
So  early  was  the  hour,  that  his  chaplains  were  still 
asleep  in  their  tents.  His  attendants  were  unpre- 
pared with  his  breakfast. f  Attended  by  Lord 
Lovel,  his  lord-chamberlain ;  by  Sir  William  Cat- 
esby,  his  attorney -general ;  and  by  another  privy 
councillor,  Sir  Richard  Ratcliffe,  the  usurper 
passed  from  his  tent  into  the  silent  camp,  which 
lay  stretched  around  him  in  the  twilight.  Per- 
ceiving a  sentinel  asleep  at  his  post,  he  is  said  to 
have  stabbed  him,  exclaiming,  as  he  pursued  his 
rounds,  ' '  I  found  him  asleep,  and  I  have  left  him  as  I 
found  him." ^  The  depression  of  his  spirits,  occa- 
sioned by  the  horrors  of  the  preceding  night,  is 
said  to  have  been  visibly  depicted  on  his  pallid 
countenance.  A  painful  thought  occurred  to  him, 
that  his  agitation  might  be  attributed  to  cowardice ; 
and  accordingly  we  are  told  he  ' '  recited  and  de- 
clared to  his  particular  friends  his  wonderful  vision 

*  Croyl.  Chron.  Cont.  p.  503.        |  Ibid.        J  Button's  Bosworth,  p.  79. 


KING   EICHARD   THE   THIRD.  283 

and  terrible  dream."*  On  all  former  occasions,  on 
the  eve  of  a  deadly  encounter,  it  had  been  re- 
marked that,  as  the  hour  of  peril  drew  near,  his 
eye  had  grown  brighter,  and  his  spirits  apparently 
more  light.  But  now,  dreading  "  that  the  event 
of  the  battle  would  be  grievous,  he  did  not  buckle 
himself  to  the  conflict  with  such  liveliness  of  cour- 
age and  countenance  as  before."f 

But  Richard  had  graver  causes  for  anxiety  and 
alarm  than  from  mere  superstitious  fantasies.  The 
well-known  warning  which,  on  the  preceding  night, 
had  been  appended  to  the  tent  of  the  Duke  of  Nor- 
folk, was  only  too  significant  of  the  general  treach- 
ery which  surrounded  him  :— 

"  Jock  of  Norfolk,  be  not  too  bold, 
For  Dickon,  thy  master,  is  bought  and  sold."J 

Splendid,  indeed,  as  was  the  appearance  of  his 
army,  more  than  two-thirds  of  his  followers  were 
probably  traitors  in  their  hearts.  Already  more  than 
one  gallant  and  distinguished  warrior, — such  men  as 
Sir  John  Savage,  Sir  Simon  Digby,  Sir  Brian  Sand- 
ford,  Sir  John  Cheney,  Sir  Walter  Hungerford, 
and  Sir  Thomas  Bourchier, — had  deserted  his  ser- 
vice for  that  of  the  invader.  Of  these  persons  more 

*  Grafton,  vol.  ii.  p.  150. 

f  Polydore  Virgil,  p.  222,  Camd.  Soc.  Ed.  No  longer,  according  to 
another  old  chronicler,  he  exhibited  that  "  alacrity  and  mirth  of  mind 
and  countenance,  as  he  was  accustomed  to  do  before  he  came  toward  the 
battle." — Holinshed,  vol.  iii.  p.  438. 

J  Grafton,  vol.  i.  p.  154.    , 


284  KING   RICHAKD   THE   THIRD. 

tkan  one  had  been  high  in  favour  with  Richard. 
Hungerford  and  Bourchier  had  been  esquires  of  his 
body;  Savage  had  received  grants  of  land  from 
him,  and  was  one  of  the  knights  of  his  body; 
Hungerford  "was  keeper  of  parks  in  Wells."* 
There  can  be  no  stronger  evidence  how  widely 
treason  had  spread  among  Richard's  followers, 
than  the  fact  that  during  the  preceding  night  Sir 
Simon  Digby  had  been  allowed  to  penetrate  as  a 
spy  into  the  heart  of  his  camp,  and  to  return,  un- 
questioned, with  such  information  as  he  could  col- 
lect, to  the  Earl  of  Richmond. 

But  it  was  the  imposing  positions  taken  up  by 
the  Stanleys,  and  their  more  questionable  fidelity, 
which  doubtless  occasioned  Richard  the  greatest 
anxiety.  Lord  Stanley,  who  was  in  secret  com- 
munication with  the  Earl  of  Richmond,  wTas  com- 
pelled to  pursue  the  most  cautious  policy.  He  was 
placed  in  a  most  painful  situation.  His  word  was 
pledged  to  his  royal  master ;  his  wishes  were  with 
his  stepson ;  all  his  fears  were  with  his  son.  A 
single  imprudent  move  might  have  sent  the  latter 
to  the  block.  When,  therefore,  on  the  morn- 
ing of  the  battle  of  Bos  worth,  the  king  and 
the  Earl  of  Richmond  severally  sent  messen- 
gers to  exhort  him  to  join  them  forthwith,  he 
returned  an  equivocal  answer  to  each.  To  the  lat- 
ter he  replied  that  he  was  engaged  in  putting  his 

*Harl.  MSS.  quoted  in  Turner's  Middle  Ages,  vol.  iii.  p.  522. 


KING   KICHAED   THE   THIRD.  285 

own  troops  in  battle  array;  that  he  would  "join 
him  at  supper-time."*  Richmond,  though  he 
could  scarcely  have  doubted  the  good  intentions  of 
his  stepfather,  listened  to  the  answer  with  emotion. 
He  was  "  no  little  vexed, "  we  are  told,  "and  began 
to  be  somewhat  alarmed,  "f 

The  reply  which  Lord  Stanley  sent  back  to  the 
king's  more  peremptory  command,  savoured  more 
of  the  spirit  of  the  Roman.  Richard,  it  seems, 
had  sent  him  word  by  a  pursuivant-at-arms  that, 
by  Christ's  passion,  he  would  cutoff  Lord  Strange 's 
head,  if  he  dared  to  disobey  his  orders.  "Tell  the 
king,"  was  Stanley's  reply,  "that  it  is  incon- 
venient for  me  to  go  to  him  at  present :  tell  him 
also,"  he  added,  "that  I  have  other  sons.":}:  These 
words  eo  exasperated  the  king,  that  he  ordered 
Lord  Strange  to  be  instantly  executed.  Fortu- 
nately, however,  Lord  Stanley  had  friends  in  the 
usurper's  camp.  Lord  Ferrers  of  Chartley,  and 
others,  represented  to  Richard  that  he  was  about 
to  commit  not  only  a  cruel,  but  also  an  impolitic 
action.  Lord  Stanley,  they  argued,  had  hitherto 
committed  no  overt  act  of  treason.  They  repre- 
sented that  were  any  blood  to  be  shed  that  day, 
except  by  the  sword,  it  would  fix  an  indelible  stain 


*  Buck's  Eichard  III.  in  Rennet,  vol.  i.  p.  510  ;  Grafton,  vol.  ii.  p. 
151. 

t  Polydore  Virgil,  p.  223,  Camd.  Soc.  Ed. 
J  Grafton,  vol.  ii.  p.  156. 


286  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

upon  their  cause.  Lord  Stanley,  they  said,  was  so 
nearly  allied  by  family  ties  to  the  earl,  that  he 
probably  wished  to  avoid  coming  to  blows  with  him 
if  possible ;  whereas  the  execution  of  his  son  would 
impel  him  to  make  common  cause  with  the  earl, 
and  might  not  impossibly  change  the  fortunes  of 
the  day.  These  arguments  convinced  the  usurper. 
Accordingly,  delivering  back  Lord  Strange  to  the 
custody  of  the  "keepers  of  his  tents,"  he  con- 
sented to  defer  the  execution  to  a  more  convenient 
opportunity.* 

When,  on  the  morning  of  the  22nd  of  August, 
King  Richard  placed  himself  at  the  head  of  his 
army,  the  paleness  of  his  face  and  a  tremor  of  his 
frame  are  said  to  have  been  observable  by  all. 
Yet,  from  whatever  cause  his  disturbance  arose, 
whether  from  evil  dreams  or  from  the  treachery  of 
his  friends,  it  effected  no  change  in  his  conduct  as 
a  general,  or  in  his  valour  as  a  man.  His  military 
arrangements  were  completed  with  his  accustomed 
precision  and  skill.  His  archers,  under  the  com- 
mand of  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  and  his  son,  the  Earl 
of  Surrey,  he  placed  in  front.  Next  came  a  dense 
square,  composed  of  bombards,  morris-pikes,  and 
arquebuses,  commanded  by  the  king  in  person. 
Still  clad  in  the  magnificent  suit  of  armour  which 
he  had  worn  at  Tewkesbury,  and  mounted  on  his 

*  Hutton's  Bosworth,  pp.  92,  93 ;  Croyland  Chron.  p.  503 ;  Kennet, 
vol.  i.  p.  512 ;  Hall,  pp.  412,  420;  Holinshed,  vol.  iii.  pp.  431,  435. 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  287 

celebrated  milk-white  charger,  he  addressed  his 
chieftains  in  an  animated  speech,  the  purport  of 
which  his  contemporaries  have  bequeathed  to  us : 
"Advance  forth  your  standards,"  he  exclaimed, 
"and  every  one  give  but  one  sure  stroke,  and 
surely  the  journey  is  ours.  And  as  for  me,  I 
assure  you  this  day  I  will  triumph  for  victory, 
or  suffer  death  for  immortal  fame."* 

In  the  mean  time,  the  Earl  of  Richmond  had  also 
arranged  his  forces  in  battle  array.  His  front, 
composed  of  archers  like  that  of  the  king,  was 
commanded  by  the  Earl  of  Oxford.  The  right 
wing  was  intrusted  to  Sir  Gilbert  Talbot ;  Sir  John 
Savage  led  the  left.  Richmond  himself,  assisted 
by  the  military  skill  and  experience  of  his  uncle, 
the  veteran  Jasper  Tudor,  Earl  of  Pembroke, 
assumed  the  supreme  command.  He,  too,  ad- 
dressed a  spirited  appeal  to  his  followers.  Arrayed 
in  complete  armour,  with  the  exception  of  his 
helmet,  of  which  he  had  modestly  divested  him- 
self, he  rode  from  rank  to  rank,  descanting,  ' '  with 
a  loud  voice  and  bold  speech,"  on  the  justness 
of  his  cause  and  on  the  crimes  of  the  usurper. 
His  trust,  he  said,  was  in  the  God  of  justice  and 
of  battles.  Victory,  he  insisted,  was  decided  not 
by  numbers  but  by  valour ;  the  smaller  the  num- 
bers, the  greater  the  fame  which  would  reward  the 
vanquishers.  For  himself,  he  continued,  he  would 

*  Grafton,  vol.  ii.  p.  152. 


288  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

rather  lie  a  corpse  on  the  cold  ground,  than  recline 
a  free  prisoner  on  a  carpet  in  a  lady's  chamber. 
One  choice  only  was  theirs — that  of  winning  the 
victory,  and  exulting  as  conquerors ;  or  losing  the 
battle,  and  being  branded  as  slaves.  "Therefore," 
he  concluded,  "in  the  name  of  God  and  St. 
George,  let  every  man  courageously  advance  forth 
his  standard."* 

The  accounts  which  the  old  chroniclers  have  be- 
queathed to  us  of  the  battle  of  Bosworth  are  highly 
spirited  and  graphic.  "Lord!"  says  Graf  ton, 
"how  hastily  the  soldiers  buckled  their  helms! 
How  quickly  the  archers  bent  their  bows,  and 
frushed  their  feathers !  How  readily  the  billmen 
shook  their  bills  and  proved  their  staves,  ready  to 
approach  and  join  when  the  terrible  trumpet  should 
sound  the  bloody  blast  to  victory  or  death !"  And 
anon,  after  that  terrible  pause,  ' '  the  trumpets  blew, 
and  the  soldiers  shouted,  and  the  king's  archers 
courageously  let  fly  their  arrows.  The  earl's  bow- 
men stood  not  still,  but  paid  them  home  again; 
and,  the  terrible  shot  once  passed,  the  armies  joined 
and  came  to  hand-strokes,  "f 

For  some  time,  the  brunt  of  the  battle  was  borne 
by  the  Duke  of  Norfolk  on  the  side  of  the  king, 
and  by  the  Earl  of  Oxford  on  the  part  of  Rich- 
mond. Having  expended  their  arrows,  the  archers 
on  each  side  laid  aside  their  bows,  and  fought, 

*  Grafton,  vol.  ii.  p.  153.  f  Ibid.  vol.  ii.  p.  154. 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  289 

sword  in  hand,  in  a  close  and  desperate  struggle. 
In  the  midst  of  the  melee,  Norfolk  chanced  to  rec- 
ognize Oxford  by  his  device — a  star  with  rays, 
which  was  glittering  on  his  standard.  In  like 
manner,  Oxford  discovered  the  duke  by  his  cogni- 
zance, the  silver  lion.  These  gallant  men  were 
nearly  allied  to  each  other  by  the  ties  of  blood. 
Formerly  they  had  been  united  by  the  ties  of  friend- 
ship. In  that  hour  of  deadly  conflict,  however, 
friendship  and  relationship  were  alike  disregarded. 
The  lances  of  the  two  chieftains  crossed,  and  each 
shivered  on  the  armour  of  the  other.  Renewing 
the  combat  with  their  swords,  Norfolk  wounded 
Oxford  in  the  left  arm,  a  stroke  which  the  earl  paid 
back  by  cleaving  the  beaver  from  Norfolk's  helmet. 
The  duke's  face  being  thus  exposed,  Oxford  chival- 
rously declined  to  continue  the  combat  with  so  great 
an  advantage  on  his  side.  His  generosity,  however, 
was  of  no  avail  to  Norfolk.  An  arrow,  shot  by  an 
obscure  hand,  struck  him  in  the  face,  and  laid  him 
a  corpse  at  Oxford's  feet.  Lord  Surrey,  who  be- 
held his  father  fall,  now  made  a  furious  onset  to 
revenge  his  death.  He  was  encountered,  however, 
by  superior  numbers,  and,  notwithstanding  the 
chivalrous  valour  with  which  he  fought,  his  own 
position  soon  became  a  critical  one.  A  generous 
effort  to  rescue  him  wTas  made  by  Sir  Richard  Clar- 
endon and  Sir  William  Conyers.  Those  gallant 
knights,  however,  were  in  their  turn  surrounded  by 


290  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

Sir  John  Savage  and  his  retainers,  and  cut  to  pieces. 
In  the  mean  time,  Surrey  was  singly  opposed  by  the 
veteran  Sir  Gilbert  Talbot,  who  would  willingly 
have  spared  the  life  of  one  so  chivalrous  and  so 
young.  Surrey,  however,  refused  to  accept  quar- 
ter, and,  when  an  attempt  was  made  to  take  him 
prisoner,  dealt  death  among  those  who  approached 
him.  One  last  endeavor  to  capture  him  was  made 
by  a  private  soldier.  Surrey,  however,  turning 
furiously  on  him,  collected  his  remaining  strength, 
and  severed  the  man's  arm  from  his  body. 

"  Young  Howard  single  with  an  army  fights ; 
When,  moved  with  pity,  two  renowned  knights, 
Strong  Clarendon  and  valiant  Conyers,  try 
To  rescue  him,  in  which  attempt  they  die. 
Now  Surrey,  fainting,  scarce  his  sword  can  hold, 
Which  made  a  common  soldier  grow  so  bold, 
To  lay  rude  hands  upon  that  noble  flower, 
WThich  he  disdaining, — anger  gives  him  power,^ 
Erects  his  weapon  with  a  nimble  round, 
And  sends  the  peasant's  arm  to  kiss  the  ground."* 

By  this  time  he  was  completely  exhausted.  Ac- 
cordingly, presenting  the  hilt  of  his  sword  to  Tal- 
bot, he  requested  him  to  take  his  life,  in  order  to 
prevent  his  dying  by  an  ignoble  hand.  ''  The  max- 
im of  our  family, ' '  he  said,  "is  to  support  the 
crown  of  England,  and  I  would  fight  for  it,  though 

*  Bosworth  Field,  by  Sir  John  Beaumont,  Bart.,  in  Weever's  Funeral 
Monuments,  p.  554. 


KING   RICHARD   THE  THIRD.  291 

it  were  placed  on  a  hedge-stick."     Talbot,  it  is 
needless  to  observe,  spared  his  life.* 

Had  the  Earl  of  Northumberland  remained  true 
to  his  sovereign,  or  even  if  the  Stanleys  had  con- 
tinued neuter,  victory  would,  in  all  probability, 
have  declared  for  Richard.  But  Northumberland, 
instead  of  hastening  to  the  aid  of  his  royal  master, 
withdrew  his  troops  to  a  convenient  distance,  where 
he  remained  a  passive  spectator  of  the  combat. 
This  glaring  act  of  disloyalty  manifested  how  wide- 
spread was  the  defection  in  Richard's  army,  and 
may  not  improbably  have  induced  Lord  Stanley  to 
throw  off  the  mask.  Suddenly  he  gave  orders  for 
his  troops  to  advance  to  the  left,  thus  uniting  them 
with  the  right  of  Richmond' s  army.  The  king  beheld 
the  movement  with  astonishment  and  rage.  Vic- 
tory was  evidently  on  the  point  of  deciding  for  his 
adversary;  and  accordingly,  his  faithful  knights, 
' '  perceiving  the  soldiers  faintly,  and  nothing  cour- 


*  Button's  Bosworth,  pp.  100-106.  Lord  Surrey  was  committed  to 
the  Tower,  where  he  remained  a  prisoner  about  three  years  and  a  half; 
but,  says  Grafton  (vol.  ii.  p.  154),  "for  his  truth  and  fidelity  he  was 
afterwards  promoted  to  high  honours,  offices,  and  dignities."  On  the 
9th  of  September  1513,  he  defeated  and  slew  King  James  IV.  of  Scot- 
land at  the  battle  of  Flodden,  for  which  distinguished  service  he  was 
restored  to  the  dukedom  of  Norfolk,  of  which  he  had  been  deprived  by 
attainder  after  the  battle  of  Bosworth.  In  1521,  he  presided,  as  Lord 
High  Steward,  at  the  trial  of  Edward  Stafford,  Duke  of  Buckingham, 
and,  on  passing  sentence  of  death  on  him,  is  said  to  have  been  so  much 
aflected  as  to  shed  tears.  The  duke  died  at  Framlingham  Castle,  May 
21,  1524. 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

ageously,  to  set  on  their  enemies,"  brought  him  a 
fresh  and  fleet  charger,  and  entreated  him  to  seek 
safety  in  flight.*  Richard,  however,  indignantly 
repelled  their  advice.  "Bring  me  my  battle-axe," 
he  is  said  to  have  exclaimed,  ' '  and  fix  my  crown  of 
gold  on  my  head ;  for,  by  Him  that  shaped  both 
sea  and  land,  king  of  England  this  day  will  I 
die!"f 

The  situation  of  the  usurper  had  indeed  become 
a  critical  one.  The  gallant  Norfolk  was  no  more ; 
Surrey  was  a  prisoner ;  Northumberland  had  turned 
traitor.  Stanley's  followers  were  already  dealing 
"sore  dints"  among  his  troops,  and  Sir  William 
Stanley  might  at  any  moment  follow  the  example 
set  him  by  his  brother.  One  chance  only  remained 
to  the  undaunted  monarch.  Descrying  Richmond 
on  a  neighbouring  eminence,  with  only  a  few  men- 
at-arms  for  his  personal  guard,  he  resolved  either 
to  fight  his  way  to  him  and  terminate  their  differ- 
ences by  a  personal  encounter,  or  to  perish  in  the 
gallant  attempt.;}:  With  a  voice  and  mien  inspired 
by  indomitable  resolution  and  courage,  he  called 
upon  all  true  knights  to  imitate  the  intrepid  ex- 
ample which  he  proposed  to  set  them.  "If  none 
will  follow  me,"  he  exclaimed,  "I  will  try  the 


*  Polydore  Virgil,  p.  225,  Camd.  Soc.  Trans. ;  Grafton,  vol.  ii.  p.  155. 
f  Harl.  MSS.  542,  fol.  34,  quoted  in  Button's  Bosworth,  by  Nichols, 
p.  217  ;  Grafton,  vol.  ii.  p.  155  ;  Polydore  Virgil,  p.  225. 
J  Grafton,  vol.  ii.  p.  154 ;  Polydore  Virgil,  lib.  xxv.  p.  714. 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  293 

cause  alone."  But  the  gallant  men  to  whom  he 
appealed  responded  in  a  manner  such  as  should 
gladden  the  ear  of  a  king  on  such  an  occasion. 
One  and  all,  they  prepared  to  triumph  with  their 
sovereign,  or  die  by  his  side.  Of  the  names  of 
those  devoted  men  only  a  few  have  been  handed 
down  to  us.  They  included,  however,  Francis  Vis- 
count Lovel,  Walter  Lord  Ferrers  of  Chartley,  Sir 
Gervoise  Clifton,  Sir  Richard  Ratcliffe,  and  Sir 
Robert  Brakenbury — names  to  which  the  historian 
delights  to  do  honour.  Lastly,  there  rode  by  the 
side  of  the  king  Sir  William  Catesby,  ' '  learned  in 
the  laws  of  the  realm,"  who,  false  as  he  had  been 
to  Hastings  and  others,  remained  true  to  his  sov- 
ereign in  his  hour  of  imminent  peril.  The  reflection 
is  a  melancholy  one,  that,  of  that  heroic  band,  Lord 
Lovel  alone  survived  to  mourn  the  fate  of  his  king 
and  comrades,  and  to  relate  the  tale  of  their  prow- 
ess. Catesby,  indeed,  quitted  the  field  alive,  but 
it  was  to  perish,  two  days  afterwards,  by  the  hands 
of  the  headsman. 

Then  it  was  that  King  Richard  headed  and  led  on 
that  memorable  charge,  on  the  success  or  failure  of 
which  the  sceptre  of  an  ancient  dynasty  depended. 
Fixing  his  spear  in  its  rest,  and  calling  on  his 
knights  to  follow  him,  he  set  spurs  to  his  noble 
charger,  and  from  the  right  flank  of  his  army  rode 
directly  and  impetuously  towards  his  adversary. 
Only  for  a  few  seconds  he  paused  in  his  desperate 


294  KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

course.  It  was  to  quench  Ms  thirst  at  a  fountain, 
which  still  bears  the  name  of  "King  Richard's 
well."  Then  recommenced  that  glorious  onset  of 
the  hero-king  and  his  brother  warriors.  Four  of 
them  were  knights  of  the  Garter.*  Flinging  them- 
selves into  the  thickest  of  the  battle,  onward  and 
furiously  they  fought  their  way.  At  their  head,— 
"making  open  passage  by  dint  of  sword,"— rode 
the  last  king  who  was  destined  to  wear  the  crown 
of  the  Plantagenets.  The  nearer  he  advanced  to 
his  detested  rival,  the  greater  became  his  impetu- 
osity and  rage.  In  the  words  of  the  old  chronicler, 
"  he  put  spurs  to  his  horse,  and  like  a  hungry  lion 
ran  with  spear  in  rest  towards  him."f  In  the 
course  of  that  terrible  onslaught,  more  than  one 
affecting  incident  occurred.  Sir  Robert  Braken- 
bury  happened  to  cross  Sir  Walter  Hungerford, 
who,  only  a  few  hours  previously,  had  deserted  the 
cause  of  Richard  for  that  of  Henry.  The  word 
traitor  escaped  the  lips  of  Brakenbury,  on  which 
Hungerford  dealt  a  blow  at  him  which  shivered  his 
shield.  Stroke  after  stroke  was  then  exchanged 
between  them ;  but  Brakenbury  had  survived  the 
vigour  of  youth,  and  was  ill  matched  against  a 
younger  adversary.  At  length  a  blow  from  Hun- 
gerford's  sword  crushed  the  helmet  of  the  veteran 

*King   Richard,  Lord  Ferrers  of  Chartley,   Lord   Lovel,  and  Sir 
Richard  Ratclifie. 
t  Grafton,  p.  154. 


KIXG    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  295 

knight,  and  exposed  his  silvery  hairs  to  the  light. 
"Spare  his  life,  brave  Hungerford,''  exclaimed  Sir 
Thomas  Bourchier ;  but  the  generous  entreaty  came 
too  late.  Before  the  words  could  escape  his  lips, 
the  arm  of  Hungerford  had  descended,  and  the  old 
warrior  lay  stretched,  with  the  life-blood  flowing 
from  him,  at  their  feet. 

In  that  exciting  hour,  friend  was  arrayed  against 
friend,  and  neighbour  encountered  neighbour.  Sir 
Gervoise  Clifton  and  Sir  John  Byron*  were  not 
only  neighbours  in  Nottinghamshire,  but  were  in- 
timate friends.  Clifton  fought  in  the  ranks  of  the 
king ;  Byron  on  the  side  of  Richmond.  Previously 
to  their  departure  from  their  several  homes,  they 
had  exchanged  a  solemn  oath,  that  wThoever  of  the 
two  might  prove  to  be  on  the  victorious  side,  he 
should  exert  all  his  influence  to  prevent  the  confis- 
cation of  the  estates  of  his  friend,  and  the  conse- 
quent ruin  of  his  wife  and  children.  It  so  hap- 
pened, that  while  Clifton  was  charging  with  his 
royal  master,  he  received  a  blow  which  felled  him 
to  the  ground.  Byron  chanced  to  be  at  hand,  and 
saw  him  fall.  Deeply  affected  by  the  incident,  he 
dashed  through  the  ranks  to  his  assistance,  and, 
covering  him  with  his  shield,  exhorted  him  to  sur- 
render. Clifton,  however,  had  received  his  death- 

*Sir  John  Byron,  constable  of  Nottingham  Castle,  was  knighted  by 
Henry  shortly  after  his  landing  at  Milford-Haven.  He  died  3rd  May 
1488,  and  wns  buried  at  Colwick  in  Nottinghamshire. 


296  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

wound.  Faintly  murmuring  that  all  was  over  with 
him,  he  collected  sufficient  strength  to  be  able  to 
remind  his  friend  of  his  engagement,  and  then  ex- 
pired.* The  interesting  fact  that,  after  the  lapse 
of  nearly  four  centuries,  the  descendants  of  Sir 
Gfervoise  Clifton  still  enjoy  the  lands  possessed 
by  their  ancestor,  attest  that  the  injunctions  of 
the  dying  hero  were  not  disregarded  by  his 
friend. 

In  the  mean  time,  King  Richard  and  the  sur- 
vivors of  his  warrior  band  continued  to  fight  their 
way  towards  Richmond.  One  and  all,  as  they 
swept  onward,  they  dealt  death  and  havoc  round 
them.  The  nearer  Richard  approached  to  the 
person  of  his  adversary,  the  more  he  seemed  to  be 
fortified  by  an  almost  superhuman  resolution  and 
strength.  Not  far  in  advance  of  Richmond,  he 
encountered  and  unhorsed  Sir  John  Cheney,  a 
gallant  knight  of  colossal  stature.  By  a  desperate 
effort,  he  fought  his  way  to  the  standard  of  his 
adversary.  Richmond  was  now  almost  within  his 
grasp.  With  one  stroke  he  slew  Sir  William 
Brandon,  who  was  waving  the  banner  over  the  head 
of  his  master,  and,  seizing  it  from  the  grasp  of  the 
falling  warrior,  flung  it  contemptuously  on  the 
ground. 

The  moment  was  unquestionably  a  critical  one 
for  Richmond.  His  followers  are  said  to  have  been 

*  Button's  Bosworth,  p.  117,  &c. 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  297 

"almost  in  despair  of  victory.'"'*  His  life  was  in 
imminent  peril.  It  was  at  this  conjuncture  that  Sir 
William  Stanley,  following  the  example  of  his 
brother,  came  to  Richmond's  assistance  with 
"three  thousand  tall  men."f  "He  came  time 
enough, ' '  afterwards  observed  Henry,  ' '  to  save  my 
life;  but  he  stayed  long  enough  to  endanger  it.":}: 
The  object  of  Sir  William  Stanley  was  to  surround 
Richard,  and  he  completely  succeeded.  Bitterly 
was  this  last  act  of  treachery  felt  by  the  usurper. 
The  last  words  which  he  was  heard  to  mutter  were, 
"Treason,  treason,  treason!  "§  But,  though  sepa- 
rated from  his  army,  and  gradually  hemmed  in  by 
overpowering  numbers,  his  intrepidity  never  for  a 
moment  deserted  him.  When  Catesby  urged  him 
to  fly,  he  retorted  by  taxing  him  with  cowardice. 
The  hope  of  reaching  his  adversary,  and  dying 
with  his  grasp  round  his  throat,  seems  to  have 
animated  him  to  the  last.  But,  by  this  time,  his 
knights,  with  the  exception  of  Lord  Lovel  and  his 
faithful  standard-bearer,  had  all  fallen  lifeless 
around  him.  The  latter  continued  to  wave  the 
royal  banner  over  the  head  of  his  sovereign  to  the 
last.  Resolved  to  sell  his  life  as  dearly  as  possible, 
the  warrior  king  still  stood  at  bay,  ' '  manfully 


*  Grafton,  vol  ii.  p.  154. 

t  Ibid. 

J  Lord  Bacon's  Henry  VII.  in  Kennet,  vol.  i.  p.  611. 

\  Rous's  Hist.  Reg.  Ang,  p.  218. 


298  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

fighting  in  the  middle  of  his  enemies,"*  till,  covered 
with  wounds  and  exhausted  by  loss  of  blood  and 
fatigue,  he  either  staggered  or  was  struck  down 
from  his  horse.  Thus,  as  the  old  chronicler  ob- 
serves, ' '  while  fighting,  and  not  in  the  act  of  flight, 
the  said  King  Richard  was  pierced  with  numerous 
deadly  wounds,  and  fell  in  the  field  like  a  brave 
and  most  valiant  prince,  "f  The  death  of  the  king 
decided  the  fate  of  the  day.  A  third  of  his  fol- 
lowers are  said  to  have  fallen  in  battle.  The  re- 
mainder sought  safety  by  a  precipitate  flight.:}: 

The  first  act  of  the  Earl  of  Richmond,  on  find- 
ing himself  master  of  the  field,  was  to  fall  upon  his 
knees  and  return  thanks  to  the  Almighty  for  the 
great  victory  which  He  had  vouchsafed  to  him.§ 
This  pious  act  of  gratitude  having  been  discharged, 
he  was  conducted  by  Lord  Stanley  and  the  Earls  of 

*  Grafton,  vol.  ii.  p.  154.  "  Fighting  manfully  in  the  thickest  press 
of  his  enemies." — Polydore  Virgil,  p.  224,  Camd.  Soc.  Trans. 

f  Croyland  Chron.  Cont.  p.  304. 

J  "  The  blood  of  the  slain  tinged  the  little  brook  long  after  the  battle, 
particularly  in  rain.  The  battle  being  fought  in  a  dry  season,  much  of 
the  blood  would  lodge  upon  the  ground,  become  baked  with  the  sun, 
and  be  the  longer  in  washing  off;  which  inspired  a  belief  in  the 
country  people,  that  the  rivulet  runs  blood  to  this  day,  and  they  fre- 
quently examine  it.  Possessed  with  this  opinion,  they  refuse  to  drink 
it." — Hutton's  Bosworth,  p.  127.  According  to  Ilutton's  calculation, 
King  Richard  lost  no  more  than  nine  hundred  men  at  the  battle  of 
Bosworth,  and  Richmond  only  one  hundred.  This  estimate  nearly 
agrees  with  Grafton's  statement,  that  one  thousand  men  fell  on  the  side 
of  the  king,  and  one  hundred  on  the  side  of  the  earl.  Vol.  ii.  pp. 
154,  155. 

%  Grafton,  vol.  ii.  p.  155  ;  Polydore  Virgil,  lib.  xxv.  p.  715. 


KING    RICHARD    THE   THIRD.  299 

Pembroke  and  Oxford  to  a  neighboring  eminence, 
on  which  the  Te  Deum  was  solemnly  chanted.  In 
an  energetic  speech  he  thanked  his  army  for  the 
great  service  which  it  had  rendered  him,  extolling 
the  valour  of  his  followers,  and  promising  them 
adequate  rewards.  In  the  mean  time,  the  battered 
crown,  which  had  been  reft  from  the  helmet  of 
Richard  during  his  death-struggle,  had  been  dis- 
covered concealed  under  a  hawthorn  bush,  and  was 
carried  by  Sir  Reginald  Bray  to  Lord  Stanley. 
This  opportune  circumstance,  added  to  the  favour- 
able effect  produced  by  the  speech  of  the  victor, 
seems  to  have  suggested  to  the  Stanleys  and  their 
friends  the  policy  of  seizing  advantage  of  the  gen- 
eral enthusiasm,  by  at  once  offering  the  crown  to 
Richmond,  and  calling  upon  the  assembled  army  to 
acknowledge  him  as  their  sovereign.  The  armed 
multitude  listened  to  the  proposal  with  rapture, 
and,  amidst  their  cheers  and  acclamations,  Lord 
Stanley  placed  the  crown  of  the  Plantagenets  on  the 
head  of  the  first  king  of  the  house  of  Tudor.  The 
same  day  Richmond  entered  Leicester  in  triumph, 
where,  ' '  by  sound  of  trumpets, ' '  he  was  proclaimed 
King  of  England,  by  the  title  of  Henry  VII.* 

At  each  end  and  side  of  the  magnificent  tomb  of 
Henry  VII.  in  Westminster  Abbey,  may  be  seen  the 
device  of  a  crown  in  a  hawthorn  bush,  an  interest- 

*  Hutton's  Bosworth,  pp.  132,  133  ;  Grafton,  vol.  ii.  p.  155 ;  Polydore 
Virgil,  lib.  xxv.  p.  715. 


300  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIKD. 

ing  memento  of  his  military  coronation  on  the  field 
of  Bos  worth.  The  eminence  on  which  Lord  Stan- 
ley placed  the  royal  diadem  on  the  brow  of  Henry, 
still  retains  the  name  of  Crown  Hill. 

The  death  of  Richard  III.  took  place  on  the  22nd 
of  August  1485.  He  had  reigned  only  two  years 
and  two  months ;  his  age  was  only  thirty -two. 
Whatever  may  have  been  his  faults  or  his  crimes, 
he  certainly  died  not  unlamented.  In  the  register 
of  the  city  of  York,  there  is  an  entry,  dated  the 
day  after  his  death,  which  is  the  more  touching  inas- 
much as  it  was  inserted  at  a  time  when  flattery  was 
unserviceable  to  the  dead,  and  might  have  been 
perilous  to  the  living.  "It  was  showrn  by  divers 
persons,"  proceeds  the  register,  "especially  by 
John  Spon,  sent  unto  the  field  of  Redmore  to  bring 
tidings  from  the  same  to  the  city,  that  King  Rich- 
ard, late  lawfully  reigning  over  us,  was,  through 
great  treason  of  the  Duke  of  Norfolk,*  and  many 
others  that  turned  against  him,  with  many  other 
lords  and  nobility  of  the  north  parts,  piteously 
slain  and  murdered,  to  the  great  heaviness  of  this 
city."  It  was  therefore  determined,  at  that  "  wo- 
full  season,"  to  apply  to  the  Earl  of  Northumber- 
land for  ad  vice,  f 

*  Norfolk,  as  we  have  seen,  had  been  true  to  Richard,  and  was  slain 
on  the  field.  Apparently  authentic  accounts  of  the  battle  had  not  as 
yet  been  received  at  York. 

t  Drake's  Ebor.  p.  120.  That  Richard  was  cruelly  betrayed  at  the 
battle  of  Bosworth,  there  can  be  no  question.  Many  of  his  followers, 


KING   RICHAED   THE   THIRD.  301 

The  corpse  of  Richard  was  treated  with  the 
grossest  indignities.*  Having  been  dragged  from 
under  a  heap  of  the  slain,  it  was  flung  across  the 
back  of  a  horse,  entirely  stripped  to  the  skin,  and 
thus  conveyed  into  Leicester.  In  front  of  the  dead 
body  sat  a  pursuivant-at-amis,  "Blanc  Sanglier;  " 
his  tabard,  as  if  in  mockery,  glittering  with  the 
silver  boar,  the  famous  cognizance  of  the  deceased. 
Thus,  "naked  and  despoiled  to  the  skin,"  covered 
with  wounds,  and  besmeared  with  dust  and  blood,— 
a  halter  round  his  neck,  his  head  hanging  down 
on  one  side  of  the  horse,  and  his  legs  dangling  on 
the  other,  was  the  corpse  of  Richard  carried  into 
Leicester, — into  that  very  town  from  which  he  had 
so  recently  ridden  forth  a  mighty  warrior  and  a 
sceptred  king!  His  body,  in  order  to  satisfy  the 
most  sceptical  that  the  dreaded  usurper  had  ceased 
to  exist,  was  exposed  to  the  public  gaze  at  one  of 
the  fortified  gates  of  Leicester,  so  that  ' '  every  man 
might  see  and  look  upon  him."  Eventually  his 
remains  met  with  decent,  if  not  honourable  sepul- 
ture. His  body,  we  are  told,  was  "begged"  by 
the  monks  of  the  society  of  Grey  Friars,  who  in- 
terred it  in  the  church  of  St.  Mary  belonging  to 


according  to  Grafton,  "  came  not  thither  in  hope  to  see  the  king  pros- 
per and  prevail,  but  to  hear  that  he  should  be  shamefully  confounded 
and  brought  to  ruin." — Grafton,  vol.  ii.  p.  154. 

*  Croyl.  Chron.  Cont.  p.  504 ;    Grrfton,  vol.  ii.  p.  156  ;  Fabyan,  p, 
673;  Button,  pp.  141,  142. 


302  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

their  order,  then  the  principal  place  of  worship  in 
Leicester.* 

Feeling  that  some  respect  was  due  to  the  memory 
of  the  last  monarch  of  a  mighty  line  and  the  uncle 
of  his  queen,  Henry  VII.,  some  years  after  the 
death  of  his  rival,  caused  a  tomb  of  many-coloured 
marble,  surmounted  by  a  marble  effigy  of  Richard, 
to  be  erected  over  the  spot  of  his  interment,  f  Un- 
fortunately, the  dissolution  of  the  religious  houses 

*  Button,  p.  142. 

t  The  following  lines  were  engraved  on  Richard's  tomb : — 
"  Hie  ego,  quern  vario  tellus  sub  marmore  claudit, 

Tertius  a  multa  voce  Ricardus  eram  ; 
Nam  patrise  tutor,  patruus  pro  jure  nepotis, 

Dirupta  tenui  Regna  Britanna  fide  ; 
Sexaginta  dies,  binis  duntaxat  ademptis, 
^Estatesque  tuli  non  mea  sceptra  duas. 
Fortiter  in  bello,  mcrito  desertus  ab  Anglis, 

Rex  Henrice,  tibi,  septime,  succubui : 
At  sumptu,  plus  ipse,  tuo,  sic  ossa  decoras, 
Regem  olimque  facis  Regis  honore  coli. 
Quatuor  exceptis  jam  tantum,  quinque  bis  annis 

Acta  tricenta  quid  em,  lustra  salutis  erant, 
Anteque  Septembris  undena  luce  kalendas, 

Reddideram  rubra1  debita  jura  rosae. 
At  mea,  quisquis  eris,  propter  commissa  precare 

Sit  minor  ut  precibus  pcena  fienda  tuis."   ' 

From  a  MS.  in  the  College  of  Arms.  Sandford,  Gen.  Hist,  book  v.  p. 
435.  Sandford  justly  remarks  that  these  lines  "  differ  not  much"  from 
those  inserted  by  Buck  in  his  "  Life  and  Reign  of  Richard  III." 
Those  differences,  however,  trifling  as  they  at  first  appear  to  be,  seem 
to  the  author  not  a  little  curious,  as  manifesting  Buck's  unscrupulous 
partiality  for  Richard's  memory.  For  instance,  in  the  second  line, 
justd  is  substituted  for  multd ;  in  the  seventh  line,  certans  for  merito  ; 
and  in  the  fourteenth  line,  jura  petita  for  debita  jura.  See  Buck,  in 
Kennet,  vol.  i.  p.  577. 


KING   RICHARD   THE  THIRD.  303 

in  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.  occasioned  the  demo- 
lition of  St.  Mary's  Church  and  the  defacement  of 
its  most  interesting  memorial.  When,  in  the  reign 
of  James  I.,  the  spot  was  visited  by  Dr.  Christo- 
pher Wren,  afterwards  Dean  of  Windsor,  the 
ancient  tomb  had  ceased  to  exist.  The  ground  on 
which  the  monastery  of  Grey  Friars  had  stood  he 
found  in  the  possession  of  an  influential  citizen  of 
Leicester,  Mr.  Robert  Hayrick,  who  over  the  grave 
of  the  usurper  had  erected  a  handsome  pillar  of 
stone,  with  the  inscription,  "  Here  lies  the  body  of 
Richard  III. ,  sometime  king  of  England. "  "  This, ' ' 
says  Dr.  Wren,  "he  shewed  me  walking  in  the 
garden,  1612."  *  But  the  pillar  of  stone  has  shared 
the  fate  of  the  alabaster  effigy.  No  vestige  of  it 
remains.  Even  local  gossip  has  ceased  to  point  to 
the  spot  which  covered  the  dust  of  the  warrior- 
king.  In  the  days  of  Charles  I.,  his  grave,  "over- 
grown with  nettles  and  weeds,"  was  not  to  be 

traced,  f 

There  exists  a  tradition  at  Leicester,  that,  at  the 
dissolution  of  the  monasteries,  the  coffin  of  Richard 
was  removed  from  its  resting-place,  and  that  his 
ashes  were  flung  into  the  Soar.:};  The  rumour  seems 
not  to  be  altogether  without  foundation.  Long 

*  Wren's  Parentalia,  p.  144. 

t  Baker's  Chronicle,  p.  235  ;  Sandford,  Gen.  Hist,  book  v.  p.  434,  ed. 
1707. 

t  Nichols,  vol.  ii.  p.  298. 


304  KIXG    RICHARD    THE    THIRD. 

ago,  a  stone  coffin,  said  to  have  been  that  of  King 
Richard,  was  used  as  a  drinking-trongh  for  horses 
at  the  White  Horse  Inn  at  Leicester.*  But  even 
this  apocryphal  memorial  of  the  usurper  no  longer 
exists.  When,  in  1722,  it  was  seen  by  the  Rev. 
Samuel  Carte,  the  father  of  the  historian, — although 
there  was  still  discernible  "some  appearance  of  the 
hollow  fitted  for  containing  the  head  and  shoul- 
ders," —the  greater  portion  of  it  had  yielded  to  the 
ravages  of  time.  Thirty-six  years  afterwards  Hut- 
ton  searched  for  it,  and  searched  in  vain.f 

During  three  centuries  and  a  half  there  stood  in 
the  town  of  Leicester  the  venerable  hostelry  in 
which  King  Richard  passed  the  night  on  his  march 
from  Nottingham  to  Bosworth.  Hutton  describes 
it  as  "a  large,  handsome  half -timber  house,  with 
one  story  projecting  over  the  other. ' '  In  the  days 

*  Sandford,  Gen.  Hist,  book  v.  p.  434;  Hutton's  Bosworth,  p.  143; 
Speed's  Description  of  England,  anno  1627. 

f  "  I  took  a  journey  to  Leicester  in  1758,"  writes  Hutton,  "  to  see  a 
trough  which  had  been  the  repository  of  one  of  the  most  singular  bodies 
that  ever  existed,  but  found  it  had  not  withstood  the  ravages  of  time. 
The  best  intelligence  I  could  obtain  was,  that  it  was  destroyed  about  the 
latter  end  of  the  reign  of  George  I.,  and  some  of  the  pieces  placed  as 
steps  in  a  cellar,  in  the  same  inn  where  it  had  served  as  a  trough."— 
Hutton's  Bosvorth,  p.  143.  With  respect  to  the  "  appearance  of  hollow" 
remarked  upon  by  Mr.  Carte,  either  he  must  have  been  mistaken  in 
supposing  that  it  was  constructed  for  the  purpose  of  receiving  the  head 
and  shoulders  of  the  dead,  or  else  the  coffin  could  scarcely  have  been 
that  of  King  Richard.  The  custom  of  shaping  coffins  with  such  con- 
cavities, had  been  discontinued  for  centuries  previously  to  the  death  of 
that  monarch. 


KING   KICIIARD   THE   TIIIED.  305 

of  King  Richard  it  was  styled,  in  compliment  to 
him,  the  "White  Boar."  To  have  retained  the 
name,  however,  after  the  accession  of  King  Henry, 
might  have  exposed  the  landlord  to  a  rebuke  from 
the  authorities,  or  perhaps  an  attack  by  the  rabble.* 

Accordingly,  the  name  of  the  "Blue  Boar"  was 
substituted  for  the  "White."  This  name  the  old 
hostelry  retained  so  late  as  the  year  1836,  when, 
notwithstanding  it  was  uninjured  by  the  lapse  of 
ages,  and  unaltered  by  the  hand  of  man,  it  was 
sacrilegiously  razed  to  the  ground.  "Blue  Boar 
Lane"  still  denotes  the  site  from  which  Richard 
III.  marched  to  his  death  upon  Bos  worth  Field. 

Another,  and  no  less  interesting  relic, — the  camp- 
bedstead  which  Richard  carried  about  with  him, 
and  on  which  he  slept  at  Leicester, — is,  fortunately, 
still  in  existence.  It  appears  also  to  have  con- 
tained his  treasure-chest.  The  material  of  which  it 
is  constructed  is  oak,  being  ornamented  with  panels 
of  different  coloured  wood,  two  of  which  are  carved 
with  designs  representing  apparently  the  Holy 
Sepulchre.  For  nearly  two  centuries  after  the  bat- 
tle of  Bosworth,  the  old  bedstead  was  allowed  to 
remain,  an  object  of  interest  and  curiosity,  at  the 
old  hostelry.  When  Hutton,  however,  visited 
Leicester  in  1758,  it  had  come  into  the  possession 

*  "The  proud  bragging  white  boar,  which  was  his  badge,  was  vio- 
lently razed  and  plucked  down  from  every  sign  and  place  where  it 
might  be  espied." — Graf  ton,  vol.  ii.  p.  1G6. 


306  KING   EICHAED   THE   THIED. 

of  Alderman  Drake,  of  that  city,  from  whom  it 
descended  to  his  grandson,  the  Rev.  Matthew  Bab- 
ington.  Massive  and  cumbrous  though  it  be,  this 
curious  piece  of  furniture  is  so  fashioned  that  it 
may  easily  be  taken  to  pieces  and  reconstructed  in 
the  form  of  a  chest.  This  circumstance,  added  to 
the  unquestionable  fact  of  its  having  formerly  been 
gilt,  and  its  being  profusely  ornamented  with  fleurs- 
de-lis,  a  favourite  emblem  of  the  house  of  Planta- 
genet,  seems  to  afford  almost  incontestable  evidence 
of  the  authenticity  of  this  remarkable  relic.* 

King  Richard  III.  was  the  father  of  at  least  two 
illegitimate  children,  a  son  and  a  daughter,  to  each 
of  whom  he  gave  the  surname  of  Plantagenet.  Like 
his  brother,  King  Ed  ward  IV.,  he  had  been  a  watch - 

'  *  See  Hutton's  Bosworth,  p.  48;  Halsted's  Richard  III.  vol.  ii.  pp. 
491 — 494 ;  Notes  and  Queries,  vol.  iv.  pp.  102,  153,  154,  New  Series. 
In  some  verses  prefixed  to  Tom  Coryate's  "  Crudities,"  published  in 
1611,  King  Richard's  bedstead  is  recorded  as  one  of  the  "sights"  of 
Leicester.  With  reference  to  the  surmise  that  it  concealed  his  military 
treasure,  a  tragical  story  is  related.  No  suspicion  of  its  having  been 
used  for  such  a  purpose  appears  to  have  been  entertained  till  the  reign 
of  James  I.,  when  a  man  of  the  name  of  Clark  happened  to  be  the  land- 
lord of  the  Blue  Boar.  The  wife  of  this  person  was  one  day  engaged  in 
arranging  the  bed,  when  her  curiosity  was  excited  by  a  piece  of  gold 
dropping  from  it  on  the  floor.  The  probability  that  more  gold  lay  con- 
cealed in  it,  led  to  a  close  examination  of  the  old  bedstead,  when  there 
was  discovered — between  what  they  had  always  supposed  to  be  the  bot- 
tom of  the  bed  and  a  false  bottom  beneath  it — a  large  amount  of  gold, 
the  coinage  either  of  the  reign  of  Richard  III.  or  of  his  predecessors. 
Clark  carefully  kept  his  good  fortune  a  secret.  To  the  surprise  of  his 
neighbours,  he  suddenly  became  transformed  from  a  poor  to  a  rich  man, 
and  eventually  rose  to  be  mayor  of  Leicester.  After  the  death  of 
Clark,  his  widow  became  possessed  of  what  remained  of  the  royal  treas- 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  307 

f  ul  and  an  affectionate  parent.  John  of  Gloucester, 
or,  as  he  was  sometimes  styled,  John  of  Pomfret, 
was  knighted  by  his  father  on  the  occasion  of  his 
second  coronation  at  York  in  1483.  Eighteen 
months  afterwards,*  few  as  his  years  must  have 
been,  he  found  the  king  appointing  him  governor 
of  Calais ;  the  royal  patent  styling  him  ' '  our 
beloved  son  John  of  Gloucester,"  and  express- 
ing ' '  undoubted  hope  ' '  that,  from  his  singu- 
lar gifts  of  mind  and  body,  he  was  destined  to 
perform  good  service  to  the  State,  f  The  fate  of  a 
youth  whose  career  had  promised  to  be  so  brilliant, 
has,  we  believe,  been  left  unrecorded.  Presuming 
that  he  survived  his  father,  the  probability  is  that 
he  either  courted  safety  by  changing  his  name  and 

ure ;  but,  unhappily  for  her,  she  allowed  the  secret  to  transpire.  The 
desire  of  possessing  themselves  of  such  wealth  excited  the  worst  passions 
of  one  of  the  housemaids  and  her  sweetheart ;  and  accordingly,  in  the 
night-time,  the  former,  stealing  into  the  bedroom  of  her  mistress,  either 
strangled  or  suffocated  her  in  her  sleep.  Both  offenders  were  subse- 
quently brought  to  justice,  and  suffered  the  penalty  awarded  to  their 
crime.  The  woman  was  burned  to  death ;  the  man  was  hanged. 
Extraordinary  as  this  story  may  appear,  there  are  reasonable  grounds 
for  giving  it  credit.  Certain  it  is — for  the  existing  archives  of  the  city 
of  Leicester  attest  the  fact — that,  in  the  year  1605,  a  man  and  woman 
were  executed  there  for  the  murder  of  the  landlady  of  the  Blue  Boar. 
Moreover,  Sir  Roger  Twysden,  writing  in  1653,  informs  us  that  he 
heard  the  story  vouched  for  by  two  "  very  good,  true,  and  worthy  per- 
sons,"— Sir  Basil  Brooke  and  a  Mrs.  Cumber,  both  of  whom  would  seem 
to  have  lived  contemporaneously  with  the  facts  which  they  related. 
The  latter  was  brought  up  at  Leicester,  and  actually  saw  the  murderess 
burned  at  the  stake.  Notes  and  Queries,  vol.  iv.  pp.  102,  153,  154, 
New  Series ;  Hutton,  p.  49 ;  Halsted,  vol.  ii.  pp.  491,  492. 

*  llth  March  1485.  f  Rymer's  Fo?dera,  vol.  xii.  p.  265. 


308  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

living  in  obscurity,  or  that  lie  obtained  military 
service  in  a  foreign  land. 

Richard's  only  daughter,  "  Dame  Katherine 
Plantagenet,"  was  married,  apparently  almost  in 
childhood,  to  William  Herbert,  Earl  of  Hunting- 
don. In  the  deed  of  settlement,  which  still  exists, 
the  king  guarantees  to  defray  the  expenses  of  their 
nuptials,  and  to  endow  her  with  a  fortune  of  400 
marks  a  year.  The  earl,  on  his  part,  engages  to 
make  her  ' '  a  fair  and  efficient  estate  of  certain  of 
his  manors  in  England,  to  the  yearly  value  of  200/. 
over  all  charges."*  Richard  received  her  husband 
into  high  favour,  selecting  him  to  fill  more  than 
one  office  of  importance,  and  conferring  on  him  the 
stewardship  of  several  rich  domains.  The  Countess 
of  Huntingdon  died  young ;  so  young,  indeed,  that 
it  seems  questionable  whether  the  marriage  was 
ever  consummated. 

In  addition  to  John  of  Gloucester,  King  Richard 
is  said  to  have  been  the  father  of  another  illegiti- 
mate son,  Richard  Plantagenet,  of  whose  chequered 
fortunes  some  romantic  particulars  have  been  re- 
corded. About  the  latter  part  of  the  reign  of 
Henry  VIII.,  when  Sir  Thomas  Moyle,  the  maternal 
ancestor  of  the  Earls  of  Winchilsea,  was  erecting 
his  noble  mansion,  Eastwell  Place,  in  Kent,  his 
curiosity  was  excited  by  observing  the  recluse 
and  studious  habits  of  the  principal  stonemason 

*  Sandford,  Gen.  Hist,  book  v.  p.  435. 


KING    RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  309 

employed  on  the  works.  Avoiding  the  society  of 
his  fellows,  no  sooner  was  the  task  of  the  day 
completed,  than  the  old  man — for  he  must  have 
been  considerably  advanced  in  years — drew  a  book 
from  his  pocket,  and  retired  to  peruse  it  in  private. 
One  of  his  peculiarities  was  a  disinclination  to 
disclose  the  nature  of  his  studies.  Whenever  any 
one  approached,  he  closed  the  volume.  The  cir- 
cumstance excited  the  curiosity  of  Sir  Thomas, 
who,  one  day  surprising  him  at  his  studies,  dis- 
covered that  the  book  which  he  was  reading  was 
in  Latin.  Some  remarks,  which  Sir  Thomas  ven- 
tured to  make,  induced  the  old  man  to  open  his 
heart,  and  to  narrate  to  him  the  story  of  his  life. 
He  had  received,  he  said,  much  kindness  from  Sir 
Thomas,  and  would  therefore  reveal  to  him  a  secret 
which  he  had  intrusted  to  no  other  living  being. 
His  story  was  as  follows  :— 

Until  he  had  attained  the  age,  he  said,  of  fifteen 
or  sixteen,  he  had  been  boarded  and  educated  in 
the  house  of  a  "  Latin  schoolmaster, ' '  ignorant  of 
the  names  of  the  authors  of  his  being,  or  to  whom 
he  wTas  indebted  for  his  maintenance.  Once  in 
each  quarter  of  the  year  he  was  visited  by  a 
gentleman,  who,  though  he  seemed  to  take  an 
interest  in  his  welfare,  and  regularly  defrayed  the 
expense  of  his  board  and  instruction,  took  care  to 
impress  on  his  mind  that  no  relationship  existed 
between  them.  Once  only,  there  seemed  to  be  a 


310  KING    KICHAED   THE   THIRD. 

chance  of  his  discovering  the  secret  of  his  birth; 
but  it  was  destined  to  end  in  disappointment. 
On  that  occasion  he  was  unexpectedly  visited  by 
his  mysterious  benefactor,  who,  taking  him  with 
him,  "  carried  him  to  a  fine  great  house,  where  he 
passed  through  several  stately  rooms,  in  one  of 
which  he  left  him,  bidding  him  stay  there." 
Then  there  came  to  him  one  ' '  finely  dressed  with 
a  star  and  garter,"  who,  after  having  put  some 
questions  to  him,  dismissed  him  with  a  present 
of  money.  That  person,  if  there  be  any  truth  in 
this  singular  tradition,  was  King  Richard.  "Then 
the  forementioned  gentleman  returned,  and  car- 
ried him  back  to  school." 

Once  more,  and  for  the  last  time,  he  was  visited 
by  his  friend,  who,  furnishing  him  with  a  horse 
and  a  proper  equipment,  intimated  that  he  must 
take  a  journey  with  him  into  the  country.  Their 
destination  was  the  field  of  Bos  worth,  where  they 
arrived  on  the  eve  of  the  memorable  battle.  On 
reaching  the  royal  camp,  the  boy  was  conducted  to 
the  tent  of  King  Richard,  who  embraced  him  and 
bade  him  welcome.  He  then  disclosed  to  him  the 
startling  fact  of  his  being  his  father,  promising,  at 
the  same  time,  that,  in  the  event  of  his  winning  the 
approaching  battle,  he  would  openly  acknowledge 
him  as  his  son. 

"But,  child,"  he  said,  "to-morrow  I  must  fight 
for  my  crown,  and  assure  yourself  that  if  I  lose 


KING    RICHARD   THE  THIRD.  311 

that  I  will  also  lose  my  life."  He  then  pointed  out 
a  particular  spot,  which  overlooked  the  battle-field, 
where  he  desired  the  boy  to  station  himself  on  the 
following  day.  "  If  I  should  be  so  unfortunate  as 
to  lose  the  battle, ' '  said  the  king,  ' '  take  care  to 
let  nobody  know  that  I  am  your  father,  for  no 
mercy  will  be  shown  to  any  one  so  nearly  related 
to  me."  The  king  then  presented  him  with  a 
purse  of  gold,  and  bade  him  farewell. 

The  boy  witnessed  the  memorable  battle,  and  be- 
held the  death  of  his  heroic  father.  The  result  of 
the  conflict,  of  course,  was  fatal  to  his  future  pros- 
pects. Accordingly,  hurrying  to  London,  he  sold 
his  horse  and  fine  clothes,  and,  as  soon  as  these  re- 
sources were  expended,  bound  himself  apprentice 
to  a  bricklayer.  Fortunately,  with  the  excellent 
education  he  had  received,  he  had  imbibed  a  taste 
for  literature,  which  served  to  solace  him  in  ad- 
versity, and  to  throw  a  refinement  over  poverty. 
He  was  unwilling,  as  he  told  Sir  Thomas  Moyle,  to 
forget  his  knowledge  of  Latin ;  and  as  the  conver- 
sation of  his  fellow-workmen  was  uncongenial  to 
him,  books  became  his  only  companions,  and  read- 
ing his  favourite  amusement.* 

Of  so  romantic  a  character  is  the  story  of  Rich- 
ard Plantagenet,  that  we  are  naturally  disposed  to 
treat  it  with  incredulity.  And  yet  all  the  evidence 
seems  to  us  to  be  in  favour  of  its  being  genuine. 

*  Peck's  Desiderata  Curiosa,  lib.  vii.  pp.  249 — 251. 


312  KING   EICHARD  THE  THIED. 

That  it  was  believed  by  Sir  Thomas  Moyle,  who,  as 
a  contemporary  of  the  narrator,  must  have  had  ex- 
cellent opportunities  of  testing  its  truth,  is  proved 
by  his  having  erected  a  cottage  near  Eastwell  Place 
for  the  old  man,  in  which  he  comfortably  passed  the 
remainder  of  his  days.  Moreover,  having  held  the 
important  office  of  Chancellor  of  the  Court  of  Aug- 
mentation, Sir  Thomas  must  have  been  a  man  of 
business  and  of  the  world,  and  therefore  most  un- 
likely to  have  been  duped  by  a  story  which,  if  un- 
corroborated, would  scarcely  have  found  credence 
out  of  a  nursery.  Not  many  years  have  passed  by, 
since  the  foundations  of  Richard  Plantagenet's  cot- 
tage were  still  pointed  out  by  the  inhabitants  of 
Eastwell  and  of  the  neighbourhood ;  nor  was  it  till 
the  middle  of  the  seventeenth  century  that  the  cot- 
tage itself  was  razed  to  the  ground,  in  the  time  of 
Thomas  third  Earl  of  Winchilsea.  His  son,  Earl 
Heneage,  told  Dr.  Brett  that  he  would  almost  as 
soon  have  pulled  down  Eastwell  Place  itself. 
When,  in  1720,  Dr.  Brett  called  upon  the  Earl  at 
Eastwell,  "  I  found  him,"  he  writes,  "  sitting  with 
the  register  of  the  parish  of  Eastwell  lying  open 
before  him.  He  told  me  that  he  had  been  looking 
there  to  see  wTho  of  his  own  family  were  mentioned 
in  it ;  but,  says  he,  '  I  have  a  curiosity  here  to 
show  you.'  The  earl  then  pointed  to  the  entry  of 
the  burial  of  Richard  Plantagenet.  '  This  is  all, ' 
said  Lord  Winchilsea,  '  that  we  can  glean  of  his 


KING   RICHAED   THE   THIRD.  313 

history,  except  the  tradition  which  exists  in  our 
family,  and  some  little  marks  where  his  house 
stood.' '  The  remarkable  entry  in  the  parish  reg- 
ister, to  which  the  lord  of  Eastwell  pointed,  ap- 
pears "sub  anno  Domini  1550,"  and  runs  as 
follows : — 

"  Rychard  Plantagenet  was  buried  the  xxii  day  of  Decembre. 
Anno  di  supra." 

Anciently,  when  any  person  of  noble  family  was 
interred  at  Eastwell,  it  was  the  custom  to  affix  this 
mark,  V,  against  the  name  of  the  deceased  in  the 
register,of  burials.  The  fact  is  a  significant  one, 
that  this  aristocratic  symbol  is  prefixed  to  the  name 
of  Richard  Plantagenet.*  At  Eastwell  his  story 
still  excites  curiosity  and  interest.  Although 
eleven  generations  have  passed  away  since  the 
death  of  the  humble  stonemason,  more  than  one 
interesting  local  memorial  continues  to  perpetuate 
his  memory.  A  well  in  Eastwell  Park  still  bears 
his  name ;  tradition  points  to  an  uninscribed  tomb 
in  Eastwell  churchyard  as  his  resting-place ;  and, 
lastly,  the  very  handwriting,  which  more  than  three 
centuries  ago  recorded  his  interment,  is  still  in  ex- 
istence, f 

*  Letter  from  the  Rev.  T.  Parsons,  Rector  of  Eastwell,  10th  August 
1767,  Gentleman's  Magazine,  vol.  xxxvii.  p.  408 ;  Peck's  Desiderata 
Curiosa,  lib.  vii.  p.  249. 

t  From  information  kindly  furnished  to  the  author  by  the  present 
Earl  of  Winchilsea  and  Nottingham.  (1861.) 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

ADDITIOISTAL    INFORMATION. 

nnHIS  volume  had  nearly  passed  the  press,  when 
there  appeared,  under  the  auspices  of  the 
Master  of  the  Rolls,  two  historical  works  of  con- 
siderable value,  each  of  which  contains  a  point 
bearing  on  the  disputed  criminality  of  Richard  III. 
The  works  alluded  to  are  "  Letters  and  Papers 
illustrative  of  the  Reigns  of  Richard  III.  and  Henry 
VII.,"  edited  by  James  Gairdner,  Esq. ;  and 
"  Political  Poems  and  Songs,  composed  between 
the  Accession  of  Edward  III.  and  that  of  Richard 
III.,"  edited  by  Thomas  Wright,  Esq. 

Previously  to  the  appearance  of  the  former  of 
these  works,  some  doubts  had  been  entertained  by 
the  author  of  this  volume  whether  parliament  can 
properly  be  said  to  have  assembled  during  the  brief 
reign  of  Edward  V. ;  a  point  involving  the  weighty 
question  as  to  how  far  the  usurpation  of  Richard 
III.  was  sanctioned  by  the  legislature.  Certainly, 
strong  evidence  of  such  a  parliamentary  meeting 
having  taken  place  had  been  adduced  by  the  late 
Mr.  Sharon  Turner,  although  he  admits  that  it  may 
have  been  irregularly  convened,  and  merely  for 

315 


316  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

"  present  exigencies."*  But  the  validity  of  these 
arguments  has  since  been  impugned  by  Mr. 
Nichols  ;f  and  thus  the  question  stood  when  Mr. 
Gairdner,  with  whose  views  on  the  subject  the 
author  ventures  to  express  his  humble  concurrence, 
thus  steps  forward  as  arbiter  between  the  two. 
"Mr.  Nichol's  Historical  Introduction,"  he  says, 
"  contains  some  important  remarks  in  correction 
of  Lingard  and  Sharon  Turner,  which  show  how 
difficult  it  is  to  avoid  rash  assumptions  in  dealing 
with  this  obscure  portion  of  our  history.  It  is  my 
desire  in  these  pages  to  avoid,  as  far  as  possible, 
making  statements  the  truth  of  which  is  open  to 
controversy,  but  one  important  fact  relating  to  the 
accession  of  Richard  III.  appears  to  me  to  have 
been  misunderstood  even  by  Mr.  Nichols.  It  is 
known  that  writs  were  sent  out  on  the  13th  of  May 
for  a  parliament  to  meet  on  the  25th  of  June.  On 
the  21st  of  June,  however,  a  writ  of  super sedeas 
was  received  in  the  city  of  York  to  prevent  its  as- 
sembling ;  and  Mr.  Nichols  considers  that  the  par- 
liament did  not  actually  meet,  a  fact  which  he  says 
is  further  declared  in  the  Act  of  Settlement  of  the 
first  year  of  Richard  III.  Now  the  words  of  that 
act  do  indeed  declare  that  there  was  no  true  and 
legal  parliament,  but  they  appear  no  less  distinctly 

*  History  of  England  during  the  Middle  Ages,  vol.  iii.  pp.  383 — 
395,  ed.  1830. 

f  Grants,  &c.  from  the  Crown  during  the  Reign  of  Edward  V.  Hist. 
Introduction  by  John  G.  Nichols,  Esq.,  pp.  387 — 395. 


KING   RICHARD    THE   THIRD.  317 

to  show  that  there  was  the  semblance  of  such  a 
thing.  In  plain  ordinary  language,  the  parliament 
really  did  meet,  but  the  meeting  was  an  informal 
one,  and  what  was  done  was  of  a  doubtful  validity 
until  confirmed  by  a  parliament  regularly  as- 
sembled. Parliament  did  meet,  and  the  petition 
to  Richard  to  assume  the  crown  was  presented  by  a 
deputation  of  the  Lords  and  Commons  of  England, 
accompanied  by  another  from  the  city  of  London, 
on  the  very  day  that  had  been  originally  appointed 
for  the  meeting."* 

But,  whatever  may  have  been  the  constitution  of 
the  assembly  which  invited  Richard  to  assume  the 
sovereign  dignity,  certain  it  is  that  the  legal  parlia- 
ment, which  met  seven  months  afterwards,  fully 
acquiesced  in  its  procedures,  and  confirmed  Rich- 
ard's title  as  King  of  England.  Neither,  as  might 
be  conjectured,  was  that  parliament  a  packed  or  a 
venal  one.  On  the  contrary,  as  Lord  Chancellor 
Campbell  writes, — "we  have  no  difficulty  in  pro- 
nouncing it  the  most  meritorious  national  assembly 
for  protecting  the  liberty  of  the  subject  and  put- 
ting down  abuses  in  the  administration  of  justice, 
that  had  sat  since  the  reign  of  Edward  I."f  And 
yet,  according  to  Hume,  ' '  never  was  there  in  any 
country  a  usurpation  more  flagrant  than  that  of 

*  Letters  and  Papers  illustrative  of  the  Reigns  of  Richard  III.  and 
Henry  VII.,  Preface,  pp.  xvii  and  xviii. 

f  Lord  Campbell's  Lives  of  the  Chancellors,  vol.  i.  p.  407. 


318  KING   KICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

Richard,  or  more  repugnant  to  every  principle  of 
justice  and  public  interest."  Again,  writes  the 
great  historian,  "  his  title  was  never  acknowledged 
by  any  national  assembly ;  scarcely  even  by  the 
lowest  populace  to  whom  he  appealed."  But  what 
was  really  the  state  of  the  case?  Assuming,  for 
instance,  that  the  bench  of  bishops  may  be  selected 
as  having  fairly  represented  property  and  rank,  as 
well  as  the  integrity  and  intelligence  of  the  age,  let 
us  ask  what  wras  the  conduct  of  the  majority  of 
them  wThen  Richard  set  forth  his  claims  to  the 
sovereign  power.  Thomas  Bourchier,  Archbishop 
of  Canterbury,  and  formerly  Lord  Chancellor, 
placed  the  crown  on  his  head  in  Westminster 
Abbey.  A  few  w^eeks  afterwards,  Thomas  Roth- 
eram,  Archbishop  of  York,  also  formerly  Lord 
Chancellor  and  "  considered  to  be  the  greatest 
equity  lawyer  of  the  age,"*  crowned  him  at  York. 
John  Russell,  Bishop  of  Lincoln, — "a  wise  man 
and  good,  "f  and  one  of  the  executors  of  Edward 
IV., — not  only  consented  to  retain  the  Great  Seal, 
but  held  it  till  within  about  three  weeks  of  Rich- 
ard's death.  At  Richard's  first  coronation  there 
wralked  in  procession  Peter  Courtenay,  Bishop  of 
Exeter;  James  Goldwell,  Bishop  of  Norwich; 
William  Dudley,  Bishop  of  Durham  ;  Robert  Still- 

*  Lord  Campbell's  Lives  of  the  Chancellors,  vol.  i.  p.  397. 

f  Lord  Bacon's  Richard  III.  Lord  Campbell  also  speaks  of  Bishop 
Russell  as  distinguished  for  "  uncommon  learning,  piety,  and  wisdom.' 
— Lives  of  the  Chroniclers,  p.  404. 


KING   KICHARD   THE   THIRD.  319 

ington,  Bishop  of  Bath  and  Wells ;  and  Edmund 
Audley,  Bishop  of  Rochester.  Again,  when,  seven- 
teen days  after  his  coronation,  Richard  visited  the 
University  of  Cambridge,  he  was  met  in  procession 
and  congratulated,  by  William  Waynflete,  Bishop 
of  Winchester  and  formerly  Lord  Chancellor ;  Rich- 
ard Redman,  Bishop  of  St.  Asaph ;  Thomas  Lang- 
ton,  Bishop  of  St.  David's ;  and,  lastly,  by  the 
accomplished  Master  of  the  Rolls,  architect,  and 
ambassador,  John  Alcock,  Bishop  of  Worcester, — 
the  same  prelate  who  had  been  selected  to  be  pre- 
ceptor to  Edward  V.,  and  who,  less  than  three 
months  previously,  had  been  arrested,  in  company 
with  Earl  Rivers  and  Sir  Richard  Grey,  by  Rich- 
ard's orders,  at  Stony  Stratford.*  Surely,  after 
perusing  this  list  of  reverend  prelates,  including 
no  fewer  than  four  who  had  held  the  appointment 
of  Lord  Chancellor  of  England,  wTe  can  scarcely  be 
called  upon  to  believe  that  the  usurpation  of  Rich- 

*  The  names  of  the  prelates,  recorded  in  the  text  as  having 
directly  sanctioned  the  deposition  of  Edward  V.,  are  merely  those 
which  recur  at  the  moment  to  the  author.  Among  the  remaining  ten, 
a  curious  inquirer  would  probably  discover  several  others  who  sent  in 
their  allegiance  to  Richard  III.  Their  names  are : — Lionel  Woodville, 
Bishop  of  Salisbury,  brother  to  the  Queen  Dowager;  John  Morton, 
Bishop  of  Ely,  in  custody  ;  Thomas  Milling  Bishop  of  Hereford ; 
Thomas  Ednam,  Bishop  of  Bangor ;  Edward  Story,  Bishop  of  Chiches- 
ter;  John  Halse  or  Hales,  Bishop  of  Litchfield ;  John  Marshal, 
Bishop  of  Llandaff;  Thomas  Kemp,  Bishop  of  London  ;  Richard  Bell, 
Bishop  of  Carlisle ;  and  Richard  Oldham,  Bishop  of  Man.  The  sees  of 
Bristol,  Chester,  Gloucester,  Oxford,  Peterborough,  Manchester,  and 
Ripon,  were  not  then  in  existence. 


320  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

ard  of  Gloucester  was  so  utterly  unauthorized,  so 
flagrant,  so  abhorrent  to  the  feelings  of  his  fellow- 
countrymen,  as  it  is  usually  represented  by  the 
historian.  Let  it  not  be  forgotten,  moreover,  that 
the  learned  and  venerable  Bishop  of  Winchester, 
had  previously  invited  Richard  to  be  his  guest  at 
his  new  foundation,  Magdalen  College;  that  he 
honourably  entertained  him  there,  and,  that,  at 
his  departure,  he  caused  to  be  entered  on  the  col- 
lege register,— 

"  VlVAT    REX   IN   STERNUM." 

We  will  now  venture  to  say  a  few  words  in  refer- 
ence to  the  favourable  manner  in  which  we  find 
Richard  occasionally  spoken  of  by  his  contem- 
poraries, compared  with  the  virulent  abuse  too 
often  heaped  upon  him  by  the  succeeding  Tudor 
chroniclers.  Thus,  in  a  very  interesting  contem- 
porary poem,  entitled  "On  the  Recovery  of  the 
Throne  by  Edward  IV.,"*  for  which  we  are  in- 
debted to  Mr.  Wright,  occurs  the  following 
stanza  :— 

"  The  Duke  of  Gloucester,  that  noble  prince, 

Young  of  age  and  victorious  in  battle, 
To  the  honour  of  Hector  that  he  might  come. 

Grace  him  followeth,  fortune  and  good  speed. 

I  suppose  he  is  the  same  that  clerks  read  of. 
Fortune  hath  him  chosen,  and  forth  with  him  will  go, 

Her  husband  to  be  ;  the  will  of  God  is  so." 

*  Political  Poems  and  Songs,  p.  380. 


KING   RICHAKD    THE   THIRD.  321 

But,  doubtless,  among  the  most  remarkable  en- 
comiums which  were  lavished  on  Richard  in  his 
lifetime,  were  those  which  emanated  from  the  mer- 
curial priest  and  antiquary,  John  Rous.  This 
person  had  not  only  been  often  in  the  presence  of 
Richard,  but  probably  had  also  often  actually  con- 
versed with  him.  Rous,  who  was  born  about  the 
year  1411,  was  one  of  the  chaplains  of  a  chantry  at 
Guy's  Cliff,  about  a  mile  and  a  half  from  Warwick 
Castle.  His  principal  duties  were  to  pray  for  the 
good  estate  of  the  Earls  of  Warwick  :  his  principal 
occupation  was  studying  and  writing  about  an- 
tiquities. Of  the  many  years  which  he  spent  at 
Guy's  Cliff,  twenty  were  passed  while  the  great 
' '  Kingmaker ' '  lorded  it  over  the  neighbouring 
castle.  Among  other  works,  Rous  was  the  author 
and  artist  of  two  pictorial  Rolls  of  the  Earls  of 
Warwick,  of  which  one  is  preserved  in  the  College 
of  Arms  at  London,  and  the  other  in  the  possession 
of  the  Duke  of  Manchester.  Both  of  these  Rolls 
were  executed  before  the  death  of  Richard  III., 
and,  no  doubt,  both  originally  contained  passages 
highly  laudatory  of  the  husband  of  the  surviving 
heiress  of  the  great  earl.  But,  in  due  time,  the 
period  arrived  when  it  was  no  longer  safe  to  eulo- 
gize the  house  of  York,  and  when  it  had  become 
gainful  to  extol  the  house  of  Lancaster.  Henry 
Earl  of  Richmond  ascended  the  throne  as  Henry 
VII.,  and  the  recluse  of  Guy's  Cliff  hastened  to 


322  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

salute  the  rising  sun.  Forgetting  the  praises  which 
he  had  formerly  lavished  on  Richard  III.  he  dedi- 
cated to  the  new  Tudor  sovereign  a  work,  in  which 
he  accused  Richard  of  the  most  frightful  crimes, 
and  heaped  on  him  the  most  virulent  abuse.*  He 
went  even  further.  Unfortunately,  one  of  the  two 
rolls  which  he  had  executed  was,  at  the  time  of  the 
accession  of  Henry  VII.,  either  in  his  own  pos- 
session or  within  his  reach,  and  accordingly  he  pro- 
ceeded to  mutilate  and  extract  from  it  all  that 
might  have  reflected  honour  on  the  memory  of  a 
dead  king,  or  give  offence  to  a  living  one.  This  is 
the  roll  which  is  preserved  in  the  College  of  Arms. 
The  portraits  of  two  of  the  Yorkist  kings  are  ex- 
tracted; Anne  Neville  is  despoiled  of  her  royal 
insignia  as  Queen  of  England ;  while  her  son , 
Edward  Prince  of  Wales,  instead  of  the  crown 
which  he  had  formerly  worn  on  his  head,  and  the 
sceptre  which  he  had  held  in  his  hand,  is  repre- 
sented in  a  tabard,  wearing  merely  a  ducal  cap  and 
circlet.  King  Richard  himself  is  merely  intro- 
duced as  the  ' '  infelix  maritus ' '  of  Anne 
Neville. 

But,  fortunately,  the  other,  or  "  Manchester 
Roll,"  had  passed,  as  it  would  seem,  into  other, 
and  probably  Yorkist  hands,  and  thus  was  pre- 
served from  Rous's  mutilations.  There,  then,  we 
find  touches  of  Richard's  character,  such  as  it  had 

*  Historia  Eegum  Anglise.    See  ante,  pp.  66, 75. 


KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD.  323 

originally,  and  probably  conscientiously,  been 
sketched  by  the  antiquary.  There  he  is  the 
' '  mighty  prince  in  his  day,  special  good  lord  to 
the  town  and  lordship  of  Warwick,"  Again,  he 
is  "the  most  victorious  prince,  King  Richard 
III. ;  "  and,  lastly,  he  is  described,  almost  enthu- 
siastically, as, — "In  his  realm  [ruling]  full  com- 
mendably ;  punishing  offenders  of  his  laws,  especi- 
ally extortioners  and  oppressors  of  his  commons, 
and  cherishing  those  that  were  virtuous;  by  the 
which  discreet  guiding  he  got  great  thanks  of  God, 
and  love  of  all  his  subjects  rich  and  poor,  and 
great  laud  of  the  people  of  all  other  lands  about 
him."*  Such,  let  us  hope,  was  the  true  light  in 
which  Richard's  kingly  character  was  viewed  by 
the  priestly  antiquary  of  Guy's  Cliff.  Rous's 
treatment  of  the  memory  of  the  hero -king  was, 
after  all,  probably  not  very  different  from  that  of 
other  writers  of  the  age  on  suddenly  finding  them- 
selves transferred  from  the  rule  of  a  Plantagenet  to 
that  of  a  Tudor.  Of  these  two  houses,  the  former 
was  unquestionably  the  more  popular.  It  was, 
therefore,  obviously  the  object  of  Henry  and  his 
friends  to  depreciate  and  revile,  as  much  as  pos- 
sible, the  character  of  Richard,  for  the  purpose  of 
preventing  commiseration  attaching  itself  to  his 

*  See  Rous's  biographical  notices,  Nos.  17,  62,  63,  in  the  Duke  of 
Manchester's  copy  of  the  Rous  Roll,  edited,  with  an  interesting  intro- 
duction, by  William  (.'ourthope,  Ksq.,  Somerset  Herald. 


324  KING   RICHARD   THE   THIRD. 

memory,  and  also  to  bring  his  line  into  disfavour 
and  contempt.  Had  Richard  proved  victorious  on 
the  field  of  Bosworth ;  had  he  quietly  transmitted 
his  crown  to  one  of  the  princes  of  his  race,  we 
should  probably  find,  in  the  chronicles  and  records 
of  the  past,  little  to  his  discredit,  and  possibly 
much  fulsome  panegyric  in  his  favour. 

We  may  mention  that  in  Mr.  Gairdner's  recent 
work,  to  which  we  have  previously  alluded,  there 
is  a  remarkable  document*  tending  to  give  fearful 
force  to  a  suspicion  which  has  long  existed,  that 
the  concession,  by  which  Henry  VII.  induced  King 
Ferdinand  of  Spain  to  consent  to  the  marriage  of 
his  daughter  Katherine  with  Arthur  Prince  of 
Wales,  was  the  blood  of  the  unfortunate  heir  of 
the  house  of  York,  Edward  Earl  of  Warwick,  son 
of  the  late  Duke  of  Clarence.  If  such  be  the  case, 
surely  the  worst  sin  of  the  last  king  of  the  house 
of  Plantagenet  was  not  greater  than  that  of  the 
first  sovereign  of  the  house  of  Tudor.  From  what 
we  know  of  the  character  of  Eichard  III.  in  his 
public  capacity,  we  may  fairly  presume  that,  if  he 
murdered  his  nephews,  he  was  at  least  patriotic 
enough  to  have  had  in  view  the  prosperity  of  his 
subjects  and  the  tranquillity  of  his  kingdom,  as 
well  as  the  selfish  object  of  personal  aggrandize- 
ment. Henry,  on  the  contrary,  would  seem  to 

*  Page  113.  Letter  from  De  Puebla,  the  Spanish  ambassador  in 
England  to  King  Ferdinand  and  Queen  Isabella. 


KING   RICIIAKD   THE   THIRD.  325 

have  been  actuated  by  no  more  generous  motive 
than  that  of  securing  an  illustrious  alliance  for  his 
son,  in  order  more  securely  to  establish  his  mush- 
room race  on  the  throne. 


Hppentny 


APPENDIX. 
A. 

KINO  RICHARD'S  PERSONAL  APPEARANCE. 
(See  p.  105.) 

"THE  old  Countess  of  Desmond,  who  had  danced  with  Richard," 
writes  Walpole,  "  declared  he  was  the  handsomest  man  in  the  room  ex- 
cept his  brother  Edward,  and  very  well  made." — Historic  Doubts,  Lord 
Orford's  Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  166. 

"  As  I  have  just  received,  through  another  channel,"  writes  Sharon 
Turner,  "a  traditional  statement  of  what  the  Countess  of  Desmond 
mentioned  on  this  subject,  I  will  subjoin  it,  and  the  series  of  authorities 
for  it.  Mr.  Paynter,  the  magistrate,  related  to  my  son,  the  Eev.  Sydney 
Turner,  the  following  particulars : — When  a  boy,  about  the  year  1810, 
he  heard  the  old  Lord  Glastonbury,  then  at  least  ninety  years  of  age, 
declare  that,  when  he  was  a  young  lad,  he  saw,  and  was  often  with,  the 
Countess  of  Desmond,  then  living,  an  aged  woman.  She  told  him  that 
when  she  was  a  girl  she  had  known  familiarly,  and  frequently  seen,  an 
old  lady  who  had  been  brought  up  by  the  former  Countess  of  Desmond, 
who  became  noted  for  her  remarkable  longevity,  as  she  lived  to  be  one 
hundred  and  twenty  years  of  age.  This  lady  mentioned  that  this  aged 
Countess  of  Desmond  had  declared  that  she  had  been  at  a  court  banquet 
where  Richard  was  present,  and  that  he  was  in  no  way  personally  de- 
formed or  crooked.  Edward  IV.  was  deemed,  in  his  day,  the  hand- 
somest man  of  his  court." — Sharon  Turner's  Richard  the  Third,  a  Poem, 
p.  277,  note. 

The  reader,  who  may  be  interested  in  the  story  of  the  "  old  Countess 
of  Desmond "  and  her  remarkable  recollections  of  Richard  III.,  is  re- 
ferred to  "  An  Enquiry  into  the  Person  and  Age  of  the  Countess  of 
Desmond,"  Lord  Orford's  Works,  vol.  i.  p.  210  ;  Sharon  Turner's  Hist, 
of  the  Middle  Ages,  vol.  iii.  p.  443 ;  Quarterly  Review,  vol.  ii.  p.  329 ; 
and  Notes  and  Queries,  vols.  ii.  iii.  iv.  and  v.  passim. 

329 


330  APPENDIX. 


B. 

MURDER   OF   EDWARD   V.    AND   THE   DUKE   OF   YORK. 

(See  p.  219.) 

The  details  of  the  murder  of  the  young  princes,  as  recounted  in  the 
text,  are  derived  almost  entirely  from  the  narrative  of  Sir  Thomas 
More,  whose  account  has  been  followed  by  every  subsequent  historian. 
That  there  may  be  discovered  occasional  inconsistencies  and  improba- 
bilities in  his  narrative,  can  scarcely  be  denied.  It  must  be  remem- 
bered, however,  that  More  himself  claims  no  greater  weight  for  the 
truth  of  his  statements,  than  that  he  learned  them  from  well-informed 
and  trustworthy  persons  who  had  no  motive  to  falsify  or  mislead.  For 
instance,  in  the  account  which  he  gives  of  the  confessions  said  to  have 
been  made  by  Sir  James  Tyrrell  and  Dighton  in  the  reign  of  Henry 
VII.,  we  find  Sir  Thomas  cautiously  introducing  such  expressions  as 
"  they  say,"  and  "  I  have  heard."  But,  though  even  More  himself  hesi- 
tates to  vouch  for  the  entire  truth  of  all  he  relates,  his  narrative  is 
nevertheless  entitled  to  the  highest  respect.  It  should  be  borne  in  mind 
how  near  he  lived  to  the  times  of  which  he  wrote ;  that  his  position  in 
society  enabled  him  to  converse  with  and  interrogate  many  persons 
who  had  excellent  means  of  knowing  the  truth  ;  that,  as  a  man  learned 
in  the  law,  he  was  eminently  well  qualified  to  weigh,  and  decide  on  the 
value  of  the  evidence  which  he  had  collected ;  and,  lastly,  how  great  is 
the  improbability  that  a  man  of  high  honour  and  integrity,  such  as  was 
Sir  Thomas  More,  should  have  deliberately  falsified  or  garbled  facts. 

That  there  were  current,  in  the  days  of  Sir  Thomas  More,  many  and 
contradictory  versions  of  the  tragical  story  of  the  young  princes,  we  can 
readily  understand.  "Of  the  manner  of  the  death^of  this  young  king 
and  of  his  brother,"  writes  the  chronicler  Rastell,  "  there  were  diverse 
opinions;  but  the  most  common  opinion  was,  that  they  were  smothered 
between  two  feather-beds,  and  that,  in  the  doing,  the  younger  brother 
escaped  from  under  the  feather-beds,  and  crept  under  the  bedstead,  and 
there  lay  naked  awhile,  till  they  had  smothered  the  young  king  so  that 
he  was  surely  dead  ;  and,  after  that,  one  of  them  took  his  brother  from 
under  the  bedstead,  and  held  his  face  down  to  the  ground  with  his  one 
hand,  and  with  the  other  hand  cut  his  throat  asunder  with  a  dagger. 
It  is  a  marvel  that  any  man  could  have  so  hard  a  heart  to  do  so  cruel  a 
deed,  save  only  that  necessity  compelled  them ;  for  they  were  so  charged 


APPENDIX.  331 

by  the  duke,  the  protector,  that  if  they  showed  not  to  him  the  bodies  of 
both  those  children  dead,  on  the  morrow  after  they  were  so  commanded, 
that  then  they  themselves  should  be  put  to  death.  Wherefore  they  that 
were  so  commanded  to  do  it,  were  compelled  to  fulfil  the  protector's 
will. 

"  And  after  that,  the  bodies  of  these  two  children,  as  the  opinion  ran, 
were  both  closed  in  a  great  heavy  chest,  and,  by  the  means  of  one  that 
was  secret  with  the  protector,  they  were  put  in  a  ship  going  to  Flan- 
ders ;  and,  when  the  ship  was  in  the  black  deeps,  this  man  threw  both 
those  dead  bodies  so  closed  in  the  chest,  over  the  hatches  into  the  sea ; 
and  yet  none  of  the  mariners,  nor  none  in  the  ship  save  only  the  said 
man,  wist  what  things  it  was  that  were  there  so  enclosed.  Which  say- 
ing diverse  men  conjectured  to  be  true,  because  that  the  bones  of  the 
said  children  could  never  be  found  buried,  neither  in  the  Tower  nor  in 
any  other  place. 

"  Another  opinion  there  is,  that  they  which  had  the  charge  to  put 
them  to  death,  caused  one  to  cry  suddenly, '  Treason,  treason  ! '  Where- 
with the  children,  being  afraid,  desired  to  know  what  was  best  for  them 
to  do.  And  then  they  bade  them  hide  themselves  in  a  great  chest,  that 
no  man  should  find  them,  and  if  anybody  came  into  tht  chamber  they 
would  say  they  were  not  there.  And,  according  as  they  counselled 
them,  they  crept  both  into  the  chest,  which,  anon  after,  they  locked. 
And  then  anon  they  buried  that  chest  in  a  great  pit  under  a  stair,  which 
they  before  had  made  therefor,  and  anon  cast  earth  thereon,  and  BO 
buried  them  quick  [alive].  WThich  chest  was  after  cast  into  the  black 
deeps,  as  is  before  said."— Ease's  Chronicles  (A.D.  1529),  pp.  '292,  293. 


C. 

JANE  SHORE. 

(See  p.  251.) 

It  may  be  argued,  that  the  cruel  treatment,  which  the  too-celebrated 
Jane  Shore  encountered  during  the  protectorate  of  Richard,  tends  to 
weaken  the  evidence  which  has  been  adduced  in  support  of  his  sympathy 
with  female  suffering.  But  Walpole  has  suggested,  and  his  conjecture 
is  probably  correct,  that  it  was  at  the  instigation  of  the  priesthood,  and 
not  of  Richard,  that  this  frail  but  tender-hearted  woman  suffered  her 
celebrated  persecution.  Certain  it  is,  that  the  punishment  to  which  she 
was  subjected  was  not  on  account  of  the  crime  of  treason  with  which 


332  APPENDIX. 

she  was  charged,  but  for  her  notorious  adultery.*  Moreover,  when, 
some  time  afterwards,  Richard  was  afforded  the  opportunity  of  increas- 
ing the  severity  of  her  punishment,  so  far  was  he  from  playing  the 
tyrant,  that  he  behaved  towards  her  with  the  most  considerate  kindness. 
The  facts  of  the  case  are  curious.  While  a  prisoner  in  Ludgate,  to 
which  stronghold  she  had  been  committed  after  having  performed  her 
penance,  Jane  Shore  had  the  good  fortune  to  fascinate  the  king's 
solicitor-general,  Sir  Thomas  Lynom,  who  had  been  employed  to  inter- 
rogate her  while  under  restraint,  and  who  became  so  enamoured  of  her 
as  to  make  her  an  offer  of  his  hand.  Richard  naturally  regardad  the 
conduct  of  his  solicitor  as  indecent  and  reprehensible ;  nor  probably,  in 
those  days,  would  the  conduct  of  the  sovereign  have  been  considered 
over-harsh,  had  he  dismissed  Sir  Thomas  from  his  post,  or  even  com- 
mitted him  to  prison.  But,  so  far  from  acting  with  severity,  his  be- 
haviour, on  being  apprized  of  the  unseemly  courtship,  was  alike  that 
of  a  lenient  prince  and  a  kind-hearted  man.  To  Russell,  Bishop  of 
Lincoln,  then  lord-chancellor,  he  writes : — "  We,  for  many  causes, 
should  be  sorry  that  he  (the  solicitor-general)  so  should  be  disposed. 
Pray  you  therefore  to  send  for  him,  and  in  that  ye  goodly  may  exhort 
and  stir  him  to  the  contrary.  And  if  ye  find  him  utterly  set  for  to 
marry  her,  and  none  otherwise  will  be  advised,  then  (if  it  may  stand 
with  the  law  of  the  church)  we  be  content,  (the  time  of  marriage  de- 
ferred to  our  coming  next  to  London)  that,  upon  sufficient  surety  found 
of  her  good  abering,  ye  do  send  for  her  keeper,  and  discharge  him  of 
our  said  commandment  by  warrant  of  these,  committing  her  to  the  rule 
and  guidance  of  her  father,  or  any  other  by  your  discretion,  in  the 
mean  season. 

"  To  the  right  reverend  father  in  God,  &c.,  the  Bishop  of  Lincoln." 'f 

The  popular  story  of  Richard  forbidding  the  citizens  of  London  to 
relieve  the  unfortunate  woman  during  her  penance,  and  of  her  dying, 
in  consequence  of  hunger  and  fatigue,  in  Shoreditch,  is  manifestly 
apocryphal. 

"  I  could  not  get  one  bit  of  bread, 
Whereby  my  hunger  might  be  fed ; 
Nor  drink,  but  such  as  channels  yield, 
Or  stinking  ditches  in  the  field. 

*Hist.  Doubts,  Lord  Orford's  Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  174;  S.  Turner's  Middle  Ages, 
Tol.  iii.  p.  449,  ed.  1825. 

t  Harl.  MS.  433,  fol.  340,  quoted  in  Lord  Orford's  Works,  vol.  ii.  p.  174 ;  Camp- 
bell's Chancellors,  vol.  i.  p.  409,  where  Lord  Orford's  inaccurate  reference  to  the 
Ilarl.  MS.  is  corrected. 


APPENDIX.  333 

"  Thus,  weary  of  my  life,  at  length 
I  yielded  up  my  vital  strength 
Within  a  ditch  of  loathsome  scent, 
Where  carrion  dogs  did  much  frequent. 

"  The  which  now,  since  my  dying  day, 
Is  Shoreditch  called,  as  writers  say, 
Which  is  a  witness  of  my  sin, 
For  being  concubine  to  a  king."  * 

To  Sir  Thomas  More  we  are  indebted  for  the  following  quaint  and 
graphic  description  of  Jane  Shore  undergoing  her  penance  at  Paul's 
Cross: — "He"  [Richard]  "caused  the  Bishop  of  London  to  put  her  to 
open  penance,  going  before  the  cross  in  procession  upon  a  Sunday  with 
a  taper  in  her  hand.  In  which  she  went  in  countenance,  and  pace 
demure,  so  womanly,  and  albeit  she  was  out  of  all  array  save  her  kirtle 
[petticoat]  only ;  yet  went  she  so  fair  and  lovely,  namely,  while  the 
wondering  of  the  people  cast  a  comely  red  in  her  cheeks, — of  which  she 
before  had  most  miss, — that  her  great  shame  won  her  much  praise 
among  those  that  were  more  amorous  of  her  body,  than  curious  of  her 
soul.  And  many  good  folk  also,  that  hated  her  living,  and  glad  were 
to  see  sin  corrected,  yet  pitied  they  more  her  penance  than  rejoiced 
therein."f 

How  charming  is  Michael  Drayton's  portrait  of  the  once  adored  and 
envied  mistress  of  the  mighty  Edward ! — "  Her  hair  was  of  a  dark  yel- 
low ;  her  face  round  and  full ;  her  eye  grey,  delicate  harmony  being 
betwixt  each  part's  proportion,  and  each  proportion's  colour ;  her  body 
fat,  white,  and  smooth ;  her  countenance  cheerful  and  like  to  her  condi- 
tion. That  picture  which  I  have  seen  of  her  J  was  such  as  she  rose  out  of 
her  bed  in  the  morning,  having  nothing  on  but  a  rich  mantle  cast  under 
one  arm  over  her  shoulder,  and  sitting  on  a  chair,  on  which  her  naked 
arm  did  lie.  What  her  father's  name  was,  or  where  she  was  born,  is- 

*"  The  woefull  Lamentation  of  Jane  Shore,  a  goldsmith's  wife  ii»  London,"  Ac.. 
Percy's  Reliques,  vol.  ii.  p.  279,  ed.  1847.  That  Shoreditch  derived  Its  name  from 
Jane  Shore  is,  of  course,  a  popular  error.  Stow  informs  us  that  the  name  existed, 
at  least  as  early  as  1440.  Survey,  Book  v.  p.  53. 

fMore's  Richard  III.  p.  82. 

t  There  is  an  original  picture  of  Jane  Shore  in  the  provost's  lodgings  at  Eton,, 
and  another  in  the  provost's  lodge  at  King's  College,  Cambridge,  to  both  of  which 
foundations  she  is  presumed  to  have  been  a  benefactress.  Granger  mentions  an- 
other original  picture  of  her,  which,  in  his  day,  was  "  at  Dr.  Peckard's  of  Magdalen 
College,  Cambridge,"  and  was  formerly  in  the  posession  of  Dean  Colet.  Granger 
also  informs  us  that  a  lock  of  her  hair,  "  which  looked  as  if  it  had  been  powdered 
with  gold  dust,"  was  in  the  possession  of  the  Duchess  of  Montagu.  Biog.  Hist, 
vol.  i.  p.  87. 


334  APPENDIX. 

not  certainly  known.  Eut  Shore,  a  young  man  of  right  goodly  person, 
wealth,  and  behaviour,  abandoned  her  bed  after  the  king  had  made  her 
his  concubine."  *  Drayton  and  Sir  Thomas  More  agree  that  a  want 
of  stature  was  a  drawback  to  her  otherwise  singular  loveliness. 
"  Proper  she  was,"  says  the  latter,  "  and  fair ;  nothing  in  her  body  that 
you  would  have  changed,  but  if  you  would  have  wished  her  somewhat 
higher.  Thus  they  say  that  knew  her  in  her  youth.'' — "  Yet,"  con- 
tinues the  future  lord-chancellor,  "  delighted  not  men  so  much  in  her 
beauty  as  in  her  pleasant  behaviour.  For  a  proper  wit  had  she,  and 
could  both  read  well  and  write ;  merry  in  company,  ready  and  quick  of 
answer,  neither  mute  nor  full  of  babble,  somewhat  taunting,  without 
displeasure  and  not  without  disport.  The  king  would  say  that  he  had 
three  concubines,  which  in  three  diverse  properties  diversely  excelled. 
One  the  merriest,  another  the  wiliest,  the  third  the  holiest  harlot  in  his 
realm,  as  one  whom  no  man  could  get  out  of  the  church  lightly  to  any 
place,  but  it  were  to  his  bed.  The  other  two  were  somewhat  greater 
personages,  and  natheless  of  their  humility  content  to  be  nameless,  and 
to  forbear  the  praise  of  those  properties.  But  the  merriest  was  this 
Shore's  wife,  in  whom  the  king  therefore  took  special  pleasure.  For 
many  he  had  but  her  he  loved,  whose  favours,  to  say  the  truth  (for  sin 
it  were  to  belie  the  devil),  she  never  abused  to  any  man's  hurt,  but  to 
many  a  man's  comfort  and  relief.  Where  the  king  took  displeasure,  she 
would  mitigate  and  appease  his  mind.  Where  men  were  out  of  favour, 
she  would  bring  them  in  his  grace.  For  many  that  had  highly  offended, 
she  obtained  pardon.  Of  great  forfeitures  she  got  men  remission.  And 
finally,  in  many  weighty  suits,  she  stood  many  men  in  great  stead,  either 
for  none  or  very  small  rewards,  and  those  rather  gay  than  rich  ;  either 
for  that  she  was  content  with  the  deed  itself  well  done,  or  for  that  she 
delighted  to  be  sued  unto,  and  show  what  she  was  able  to  do  with  the 
king,  or  for  that  wanton  women  and  wealthy  be  not  always  covetous. 

"  I  doubt  not  some  shall  think  this  woman  so  slight  a  thing,  to  be 
written  of  and  set  among  the  remembrances  of  great  matters ;  which 
they  shall  specially  think,  that  haply  shall  esteem  her  only  by  that  they 
now  see  her.  But  meseemeth  the  chance  so  much  the  more  worthy  to 
.be  remembered,  in  how  much  she  is  now  in  the  more  beggarly  condi- 
.tion,  unfriended  and  worn  out  of  acquaintance,  after  good  substance, 
•.after  as  great  favour  with  the  prince,  after  as  great  suit  and  seeking 
to  with  all  those  that  those  days  had  business  to  speed."  | 

Jane  Shore  survived  to  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.,  dying,  apparently, 

*  Drayton's  Works,  p.  121.    Ed.  1748.  f  More's  Richard  III.  pp.  83—86. 


APPENDIX.  335 

in  great  distress  and  at  an  advanced  age.  "  At  this  day,"  writes  Sir 
Thomas  More,  "  she  beggeth  of  many,  at  this  day  living,  that  at  this  day 
had  begged  if  she  had  not  been."*  Of  the  beauty  which  had  captivated 
the  voluptuous  Edward,  not  a  vestige  remained.  "Albeit,"  writes  Sir 
Thomas, "  some  that  now  see  her  deem  her  never  to  have  been  well- 
visaged.  Whose  judgment  seemeth  me  somewhat  like  as  though 
men  should  guess  the  beauty  of  one  long  before  departed,  by  her  scalp, 
taken  out  of  the  charnel  house  ;  for  now  she  is  old,  lean,  withered  and 
dried  up,  nothing  left  but  shrivelled  skin  and  hard  bone.  And  yet, 
being  even  such,  whoso  will  advise  her  visage,  might  guess  and  devise 
which  parts  how  filled,  would  make  it  a  fair  face."  f 


The  author  takes  this  opportunity  of  pointing  out  an  error  into 
which  not  only  he  himself  has  fallen,  but  which  has  long  been  univer- 
sally prevalent.  He  refers  to  an  allusion  which  he  has  madej  to  a 
painting,  said  to  be  by  Mabuse,  at  Hampton  Court,  which  is  still  de- 
scribed in  the  catalogue  of  royal  pictures  as  representing  "  The  Children 
of  Henry  VII."  The  charm,  however,  which  so  long  attached  itself  to 
that  venerable  picture,  has  been  recently  dispelled.  It  has  been  shown, 
on  high  authority,  that  it  represents,  not  the  children  of  Henry  VII., 
but  of  Christian  II.  King  of  Denmark.  As  such  the  picture  is  described 
in  a  catalogue  contemporary  with  the  reign  of  Henry  VIII.,  and  as  such, 
we  presume,  it  will  be  transmitted  to  posterity. 

*  More's  Richard  III.  p.  86.  f  Ibid.  p.  84.  I  Ante,  p.  E06. 


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DA  Jesse,  John  Heneage 

260  Memoirs  of  King  Richard 

J48          the  Third 
1894 
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