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- "This Edition of JESSE'S " MEMOIRS OF
KING RICHARD III.," is published at %2.'-^o net
per set, of two volumes. It is supplied to the
Trade upon terms which do not admit of any dis
count from this price. FRANCIS P. HARPER.

Memoirs of Iking IRicbarD tbe tlbirb.

VOLUME I.

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MEMOIRS

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KING RICHARD THE THIRD

AND SOME OF HIS CONTEMPORARIES

SSiitl) an |)t6tntical ©rama nn tl)e battle nf -ffinBtonrtl)

BY
.lOHN HENEAGE JESSE

3C Jftew KEbition

IN TWO VOLUMES — VOLUME I.

NEW YOEK
FRANCIS P. HARPER
1894

PREFACE.
The character of this work seems to demand
some explanation from the author. Had lie 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 foi'ms a portion of its pages. The necessity
of acquiring a knowledge of the characters and
motives of action of the different historical person
ages, whom the author proposed to introduce
among his dramatis personce, 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-

Vl PEEFACE.
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. Nichols,
he would indeed be ungrateful if he omitted to
acknowledge. To Mr. T. Duffus 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 Jc--<t<e.
London .
September 1861.

CONTENTS OF
THE FIRST VOLUME.

PAGE
Preface, ...... v

MEMOIRS OF KING RICHARD THE THIRD.
CHAPTER I.
The War of the Roses, .... 3
CHAPTER II.
Birth, Parentage, and Early Life of Richard
OP Gloucester, . . . .39
CHAPTER III.
The Rise to Greatness op Richard of
Gloucester, . . . . .115
CHAPTER IV.
The Usurpation of Richard of Gloucester, . 151
CHAPTER V.
The Greatness and the Sin op Richard op
Gloucester, ..... 193

Vlll CCIXTEKTS.
CHAPTER VI. PAGE
The Good Deeds and Remorse of Richard op
Gloucester, . . . . 221
CHAPTER VII.
The Desolation and Death of Richard of
Gloucester, ..... 277
CHAPTER VIII.
Additional Information, .... 315
Appendix, ...... 329

IRing IRicbarD tbe XCbirJ)

MEMOIRS OF KmG RICHARD III.

CHAPTER I.
THE WAES OP THE EOSES.
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 EICHAED THE THIED.
the royal house of Plantagenet, Richard Duke of
York, and his son the Earl of Rutland, were slain
at the battle of Wakefield ; 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
IIL, was killed at Bosworth. Of the house of
Lancaster, King Henry VI. 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 atthe
battle of Northampton ; Henry, the second Duke,

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 5
was beheaded at Salisbury ; and, of another branch
of the Staffords, Humphrey Earl of Devon perished
on the scaffold at Bridgewater. 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 EICHAED THE THIED.
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 l)attle 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 Hexham ; 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 WiUoughby, 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, WilUam Bonville, Lord Har
rington; at Tewkesbury, John Lord Wenlock; at
Towton, Ranulph Lord Dacre of Gillesland ; and at
Bosworth, John Howard, Duke of NorfoUv, and
Walter Devereux, Lord Ferrers of Chartley.
Lastly, on the scaffold perished Williani Herbert,

KING EICHARD THE THIED. 7
Earl of Pembroke; John Tiptoft, Earl of Wor
cester ; James Butler, Earl of Wiltshire ; William
Bonville, Lord Bonville; W^illiam Lord Hastings;
and Sir Owen Tudor, grandfather of King Henry
VII. Although the tender years of Richard of Glou
cester had prevented his bearing a part -in the ear
Uer 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 fiight
when capture would probably have been death.
He had worn the garb of woe for many a near and
iUustrious 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 EICHAED TIIE THIED.
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 third son, Lionel Duke
of Clarence, which descendants, on the eve of the
Wars of the Roses, were represented l^y the house
of York. Thus tlie 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 pei-sons subsequently mentioned in these

Edward III.= Philippa of Hainault.
I 

Edward William Lionel
the Black Prince, of Hatfield : Duke of Clarence.
D.S.P.

Bichard II. Philippa = Edmund Mortimer, Earl of March.

Eoger Earl of March.

Philippa = Sir Henry Percy
I (Hotspur).
Anne Mortimer — Richard Elizabeth = John Lord CUfford.
I Earl of Cambriage. I
Richard Duke of York. Thomas Lord Clifford.
 \  I
Edward IV.= Elizabeth K«chard III. John Lord Clifford.
1 Woodville. I

Elizabeth = Henry VII.

Henry Lord Clifford.

pS'ntagenet=John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster = Catherine Swyneor
Henry IV John Earl of Somerset.
 I ¦ ' 
Henry V. = Catherine, daughter of Charles VI.,
I JS ing of France = Sir Owen TUDOH.

Henry VI.

= Margaret
1 of Anjou.

Edward Prince
of Wales :
D.S.P.

Edmund Earl
of Kichmond = Margaret, daughter of
John Duke
of Somerset.
Henry VII.

John Duke
of Somerset.
Margaret = Edmund
Earl of Eichmond.
Henry VII.

Edmund Duke
of Somerset.

Margaret = Humphrey
Earl of Stafford.

Henry Duke of
Buckingham = Cathe
rine Woodville.

10 KING EICHAED THE THIED.
especially in fierce and turbulent times, are re
quired in those who are called upon to govem
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 Avell as
the scandalous immoralities and negligence of the
clergy in general, entailed gi'eater 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 EICHARD THE THIED. 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 IIL, that he
founded his title to the throne. Brave, discreet,
and gifted with abilities considerably above the
ordinary standard, — possessed, moreover, of vast
wealth and of princely territories, — beloved by the
people, and allied, by blood or by marriage, to the
most powerful barons of Englatid, — 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 EICHAED 'JHE THIED.
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 year.-; of
age he had been preferred before the Duke of Som
erset to be Regent of France.
The Duke of York was apparent!}' 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 wdth 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 j)artisans 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 EICHAED .THE THIED. 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 especiaUy 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 EICHAED 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, wdiere his retainers were
numerous, and his infiuenee paramount.
For two years from this period the pubUc 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 duiing
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 councUs ; York
was deprived of his important post of govemor of
Calais, and once more flew indignantly to Wia;-
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 EICHAED THE THIED. 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 parUament was appealed to by him, and, to
his disappointment, was appealed to in vain. The

16 KING EICHAED THE THIED.
barons, instead of inviting him to ascend the
throne, solemnly renewed tlieir 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 relajjsed into his
former state of mental incapacity. Again the
Duke of York was invested by parliament with the
protectorshij). 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
loveUness. 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 EICHAED THE THIED. 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 giv'en 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, were
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 EICHAED THE THIED.
with inexhaustible gold. Lastly, music was found
to soothe his distemper, and forthwith tlie 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 beUeved that the realm no longer re
quired a protector. His improved appearance, as
well as the dignified composure vdth 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 tjie reins of empire.
But though the device of the young queen had
proved a mastei'-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
wdth 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 EICHAED THE THIED.
his government at Calais, where he was the idol of
the fonnidablH garrison.
Still both iiai'ties shrank from reviving the hor
rors of civil war, and subsequently, through the
good offices of Bourchier, Archl)ishop 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
waUs 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 cougress of the barons.
Each baron, apprehensive of treacheiv, had

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 91
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 off 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 oame this time to London with 400 men, and
was lodged at his plaoe 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, Colled, vol. ii. p. 496.

22 KING EICHAED TIIE 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 aims ; 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 Avas wounded. The king's servants natu
raUy 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 aflected to beUeve, 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 Avhicli was fought after the
renewal of hostilities, was at Bloreheath in Staf
fordshire, on the 23rd of September 14.")i), 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, was 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 flercely fought, the
intrepid Margaret of Anjou stood with her beloved
child, the heir of England, upon a commanding
spot, from whence 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 EICHARD THE THIED.
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
fixetl upon him, York advanced to the throne upon

KING RICHARD 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
deUberations subsequently took place in the House
of Lords ; the most eminent meh 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 probabilitj^ 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 hn
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 AWth
becoming scorn, but, having obtained a loan of
money from the Scottish court, she boldly crossed

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 27
the borders, and entered England at the 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 Wakefield, which was fought on the
80th of December 1460. So energetic and expe
ditious had been the proceedings of Margaret, so
unlooked for the success she had met with iu 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 triulnph or to die. Considering the odds against
wdiich 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 whom 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 wdth 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 chUd. 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, ClerkenweU, 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 foUowing 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 EICHAED THE THIED.
of March 1461, he 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 con.sisted 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 liy
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 Avith 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 fiight, he
would oppose himself alone to the swords of the
Lancastrians. Of all the battles between the rival Roses, none

KING EICHARD TIIE THIED. 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 cUscovered 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 EICHAED 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.
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 wdth 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 difliculty 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. AVithout food, and

KING RICHARD THE THIED. 35
without sufficient raiment to protect them from the
chiUs 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 EICHAED THE THIED.
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 Lancashii-e.
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 EICHAED THE THIED. 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 ujion 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 hollowness. 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 KING EICHARD TIIE THIRD.
Cathedral, where, amidst the empty shouts of the
fickle populace, he returned thanks to Heaven for
a deliverance which was destined to l^e foUowed 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, PAEENTAtiE, AND EARLY LIFE OP EICHAED
OF GLOUCESTER.
T) ICHARD Duke of Gloucester, afterwards King
-*-*^ Richard HI., 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 Wyrcester's Annals, Liber Niger Scaccarii, vol. ii. p.
477.

40 KING EICHARD TIIE THIED.
fallen to the lot of woman, and never perhaps were
sorrows borne with greater magnanimity. Her be
loved husband perished at the ))att]e 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 contemporarj^ 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 fuUy
into the ambitious projects of the powerful lord
with whom her fate was united. From the day t)n
* 30th December 1460.
t Arclia'ologia, vol. xiii. p. 10.

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 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 qf 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 fainily, — the magnifi
cence of her mode of living was surpassed only by
the decorum which ever prevailed in her household.
" She useth," writes a contemporary, " to arise at
seven of the clock, and hath ready her chaplain to

42 KING EICHAED THE THIED.
say with her matins of the day and matins of oui
Lady ; and when she is full ready she hath a low
mass iu 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 au 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 houi' 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 lier prayers for that day,
and by eight of the clock is in bed." * Such is the >
curious picture which Ave possess of the manner in
which an illustrious lady passed her hours in the
fifteenth century. Such was the household which
* Ordinances for the tJovernment of the Eoyal Household, p. 37.

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 43
shelteried 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 tiiumph, 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 Avas now
* Leland's Collect, vol. ii. p. 497 ; Hearne's Fragment, pp. 283-4.

44 KING EICHAED THE THIED.
in the hands of the Earl of WaiAvick and of her
victorious son the Earl of March, there seem to
have been reasons why London Avas 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, Ave find her concealed
with her children in an obscure i-etreat in the Tem
ple. The chambers AAdiich sheltered the illustrious
party were those of Sir John Pa.ston, a devoted ¦
partisan of the house of York, AA-ho Avas at this time
absent at NorAvich. 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 the Right Worshipful Sir and Master John
Paston, Esqitire, at Korwich, he this letter delir-
ered i)i- haste.
' ' Right worshipful Sir and Master. I recommend
me unto you. Please you, to Aveet, the Monday
after our Lady-day, there come hither to my mas
ter's place my Master BoAvser, Sir Harry Ratford,
John Clay, aud the harbinger of my Lord of March,
desiring that my Lady of York inight be here until
the coming of my Lord of York, and her Iaa-o sons,
my Lord George and my Lord Richard, and my
Lady Margaret, her daughter, Avliich I granted
them in your name, to lie here till ^licliaelmas.

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 45
And she had not lain here two days, but she had
tidings of the landing of my Lorcl 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
Wakefield, 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 KING RICHARD TIIE 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 Uterature and the fine arts, than for the .
due maintenance and exercise of the ancient laAvs
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 Avith una
bating vigour and fury. The young Earl of March
had succeeded tohis father's title of Duke of York,
and with it to his father's claims to the throne.
Those claims, though only in his tAventieth year.
he proceeded to assert and uphold with an abiUty.
enterprise, and fearlessness, Avhich Avould have re
fiected credit on the Avisest 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 uuder the Earl of Warwick
were repulsed at St. Albans, he nevertheless pushed
* Buck's Life and Reign of Eichard III. in Kennet's Complete
History, vol. i. p. 516; Sandford, Gen. Hist, book v. p. 43u.

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 LoAv Countries. On George, now in his twelfth
year, he conferred the title of Duke of Clarence ;
Richard, who Avas only in his ninth year, he created
Duke of Gloucester.* It may be mentioned that,
in the days of chivalry of Avhich Ave 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 aa^s 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 rend.er it extremely
probable. Edward himself would seem to have
been indebted for his military education to W^ar-
wick t ; 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 EICHAED 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 Du-ke 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.:}: Under these circumstances, to Avhat
other conclusion can we arrive than that Middleham
was once the home of Gloucester? And, if such
was the case, with AAdiat 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 mUitary ,
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 NeviUe, the
youngest and fairest daughter of the ' ' King- .
maker, ' ' an attachment which would of itself have
been a subject of no mean interest, even had Shak
speare not invested it Avith immortaUty. Anne was
his junior only by two years. May it not, then,
* Halsted's Richard III. vol. i. p. 113.
t 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 Avas first inspired by that
memorable passion which Avas 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 Avhich 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 Wakefield, 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
* Hutton's Battle of Bosworth Field, Introd. p. xvii.

50 KING RICHARD TIIE 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 reniains of Richard of York
niight without impropriety have been awarded a
grave in the memorable burial-pkice 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 uuAvorthy 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 Avas rein-
terred, on the 29th of July 1466, AAith a magnifi
cence befitting the obsequies of kings. Followed
by an array of nobles and pursuivants, Richard
Duke of Gloucester rode next after the coi'pse of
his father, in its melancholy journey from Ponte
fract to Fotheringay. AAA-aiting 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 haA'e
presented a striking and deeply interesting scene.
On the verge of the vault Avere to be seen the lofty
form of King EdAvard, the haiulsomest prince of

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 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, who, like the
illustrious dead upon whose coffin she was gazing,
AA-as 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 ToAvton.:]: The same
* Memoires de Commines, vol. i. p. 239.
t 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 al.so 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
Eome, which, penned in a fine Eoman 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. 391-1'.
I Cal. Rot. Pat. p. 304, m. xiii.

52 KING EICHAED 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 ^'"ere. 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 l)elieaded
after the battle of Hexham. f Again, Avhen the
part which the Nevilles took at the battle of Barnet
deprived them of their magnificent estates, EdAvard
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 ]\lar-
quis of Montagu.:}: 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 Avealth and honours
on his favourite brother, EdAvard also selected him
to fill appointments, the responsible duties of AA'hich
prove how entire was the confidence Avhich he
placed in his judgment and abilities. In 1461 he
appointed him high admiral of England. § Onthe
* Eotuli Parliamentorum, vol. vi. p. 228. ; Cal. Rot. Pat p. 304, m. v.
t Cal. Rot. Pat. m. i. p. 314.
t Rot. Pari. vol. vi. pp. 124-5 ; Cal. Eot. Pat. p. 316, ra. xviii.
J Dugd. Bar. vol. ii. p. 165.

KING RICHARD THE THIRD. 53
27th of October 1469, he made him constable of
England, and justice of North and South Wales.*
The foUowing year he nominated him to be warden
of the Western Marches, bordeiing on Scotland, f
On the 18th of May 1471, he Avas made lord-cham
berlain.:}: In 1472 he was apjjointed to the lucra
tive situation of keeper of the king's forests beyond
Trent § ; and, lastly, in 1474, he Avas re-appointed •
to the office of lord-chambeiiain . ||
Such Avere the high offices and appointments
which King EdAvard 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 which
rendered him the most x'o^srful 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.
t 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. Eot. Pat. m. x. p. 317.
II Dugd. Bar. vol. ii. pp. 166.

.54 KING RICHARD THE THIRD.
evinces not only how high Avas the ojjinion he had
formed of Richard's talents, but also how great
was the confidence which he jilacc-d 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 nephcAv
Edward V.
A conjecture has already been hazarded in these
pages, that it was as long since as Avhen Richard
was learning the use of arms and the accompUsh
ments of chivalry in the halls of the renoAvned
Warwick, that he first became enamoured of the
youngest and gentlest of the tAvo 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 NeAille. Born to
a more splendid lot, and to greater Aicissitudes of
fortune, than commonly fall to the lot of women,
the career of both was destined to be a brief and a
melancholy one. At the period of Avliich 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 this time, was on
the eve of being betrothed to Edward Prince of
AVales, the ill-fated son of Henry VI.
When, in the month of April 1470, Warwick
and Clarence, flying 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 Avas 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. t 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 piesence of
her father the Earl of V^^arwick, then governor of Calais, her mother,
and her sister the Lady Anne.
t De Commines, tome i. p. 235.

56 KING EICHAED THE THIED.
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, t
Warwick, incensed against the piince AA'hom he
had formerly so loved, and AA'hom 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 EdAvard, on the
one hand, die without leaving a male heir, the
children of Isabel would fill the throne ; AA'hile, on
the other hand, should the house of Lancaster suc
ceed in triumphing over the house of York, the
hopes of the Kingmaker Avould 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 harboui-s ; and after a short time, the
ladies, with their trains, departed, and went to Valognes, where lodg
ings had been provided for them." — .l/on^'/rc/c/'s Chronicles, vol. iv. p.
304. The Hearne Fragment also mentions Honfleur as .the port at
which Warwick and his family landed (pp. 302-3).
t Hearne Fr.igmont, p. 303.

KING IHCHARD THE THIRD. 57
It was apparently in pursuance of this ambitious
project that WarAvick 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
AA'as under greater obligations to the English earl
than to any man living. f Thus, "nb less en
amoured and delighted with the presence of his
fiiend 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.
t Sharon Turner's Hist, of the Middle Ages, vol. iii. pp. 261-3.
t Polydore Virgil, lib. xxiv. p. 660 (ed. 1651), and Camden Soc.
Transl. p. 131.

58 KING EICHAED THE THIED.
of Margaret, and in the great improbaljility, 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. A^"ar-
wick had to forgive the remorseless woman who
had sent his father Salisbury to the block ; whUe
Margaret was called upon to forgive still deeper
wrongs. Warwick had not only giA'en 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 throAAOi her royal consort into
a dungeon. More than once she herseU had been
driven by him into exile ; more than once, a fugi
tive Avith her beloved child, they had been com
pelled to owe their daily bread to the charity of the
stranger. Warwick, she said, had inflicted Avounds
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 aiipeasing
the haughty Margaret, it Avas cheerfully under-
* Chastellain, Chroniques des Dues de Bourgogne, par Buchon, tome
ii. p. 242.

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 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 AVarwick, 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
seU, 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 WarAvick face to
face, and to confer Avith him on the means of re-
estabUshing her husband on his throne. When 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 KINft EICHAED THE THIED.
' ' 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, compeUing the
proud earl to remain in this humiliating posture
for a quarter of an hour, l)efore she could be pre
vailed upon to pronounce his pardon.* At length
a treaty was concluded, Avhich Avas sAvorn 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 Avar ' ' till they should
have restored the kingdom of England to the house
of Lancaster. On the other hand. Queen Margaret
and the Prince of AA^ales solemnly swore to appoint
the great earl and his son-in-laAv protectors of the
realm, till such time as the youthful prince should
be ' ' meet and fit by himself to undertake that
charge. " ' t Lastly, the French king guaranteed to
furnish AA^arwick 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. 24.3.
t Polydore ^'irgil, lib. xxiv. p. 680, and Camd. Soc, Trans, p. 131.
X Louis kept his word. Monstrelet tells us that the manning and
victualling of AVarwick's fleet was extremely expensive to him.
Chronicles, vol. iv. pp. 306-7. For an account of this remarkable
conference, see a very curious docuraent 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 aiso De Commines, tome i. p. 238.

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 61
The article in the treaty which Margaret natu
rally regarded Avith the greatest dissatisfaction was
that which gave the hand of Anne Neville to her
son. "AVhat!" said the haughty queen, "will
AA'arwick indeed give his daughter to my son,
AA'hom he has so often branded as the offspring of
adultery and fraud ? ' ' AA'hen 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 AA'ales 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 EICHAED TIIE 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 modem
historian that no contemporary AA-riter 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 XL, King Rene,
Queen Margaret, the Duke and Duchess of Clar
ence, and the Earl of AA'arwick. 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 Hisi.. of the Middle Ages, vol. iii. p. 323, note.
Ed. 1830. This would seem to be almost too sweeping an assertion.
The continuator of thc 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, Eichard Duke of Gloucester
sought the said Anne in marriage," i.V:c. (p. 469).
t Edward Prince of Wales was born at the palace of Westminster on
the 13th of October 14.13 ; Anne Neville was born in A\'arwick C.istlc
in 1456. The young prince is said to have been eminently accom
plished and handsome ; " the composition of his body," accoi-ding to

KING EICHAED 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 herseU, in the garb of a waiting-maid, in
an obscure quarter of London.
Faithfully and energetically Warwick loroceeded
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
tiU after a delay of ' some weeks that AA^arwick 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.
*Hlst. de Marguerite d'Anjou, par I'Abbe Provost, p. 344.
t De Commines, tome i. p. 23ti.

64 KING RICHARD THE THIED.
under his command at Plymouth and Dartmouth.
His return to his native country was hailed by the
great mass of the petjple Avitli 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 toAvn or in village, so long as the virtues and
valour of AA^arwick Avere his theme ; no baUad of
the day, we are told, Avas popular, but such as re
dounded to the glory of the " Kingmaker."*
In the mean time, sunning himself in the smUes
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, EdAvard
pertinaciously persisted in pursuing his course of
sensual inactivity. Let AA'arwick, he said, land on
English soil ; there Avas nothing he Avished better.
Dearly as Edward prized the smiles of AA'oman
* Lingard's Hist, of Engl. vol. iv. p. 178. Ed. 1849.
t De Commines, tome i. pp. 239, 242.

KING EICHAED TIIE THIED. 65
and the pleasui'es 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 alloAved to glide unprofitably away.
The wrongs and exile of AA'arwick had excited an
enthusiasm in his favour which, for a season,
proved irresistible. Treason was rife, moreover,
among those AA'hom Edward had most trusted and
loved. AA^hen, 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 Aveeks, 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

bb KING EICHARD THE THIRD.
friend and favourite, with other influential barons
in whom he had blindly confided, were tampering
Avitli his forces. NotAA'ithstanding he had long
been accustomed to encounter treachery and in
gratitude, he at first refused to credit such shame
less apostasy. NeA'ertheless 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 Avas 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 Avhich Edward
had taken the precaution to guard Avith a few of
his most devoted followers. Accordingly, Avithout
a moment's delay, he leaped into the saddle, and,
dashing along the bridge Avith a feAv followers,
made the best of his Avay to the neighbouring sea
port of Lynn. Hastings, alone, remained behind
for a fcAv minutes, in order to urge his friends to
consult their safety by pretending submission to
AVarwick, and then, putting spurs to his horse,
galloped off in the direction of Lyun, AA'here he had
the satisfaction of rejoining his royal master.*
At Lynn, EdAA-aid had the good fortune to find
shipping for himself and his followers in an Eng-
*De Commines, tome i. pp. 244, Ac; Croyland Chronicle Continu
ation, p. 462, ed. 1854.

KING RICHARD THE THIRD. 67
lish brig of Avar and two Dutch merchant vessels,
which were on the point of putting to sea. On the
waters, hoAvever, 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 Toavus, then at war Avith England ; and
only by running his ship on shore near Alkmaar,
on the coast of Holland, with the risk of being
drowned, Avas EdAvard 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, Avas the only guerdon with which it
was in his power to remunerate the captain of the
vessel AA'ho 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 worshipfuUy arrayed and not so cleanly kept
as should seem such a prince":}: — Avas taken from
his ' ' keepers ' ' by AA'arwick, and once more sat,
with the crown on his head, on the marble seat of
the Confessor at Westminster. AVarwick and
* De Commines, tome i. p. 248.
t Ibid. p. 248. t 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 AA'ithout issue,
the croAvn was entailed upon Clarence. The exiled
Edward, lately so envied and so feaied, Avas de
nounced by parliament as an usurper ; Richard of
Gloucester Avas attainted and outhnved. But the
daring and indomitable spirit of King EdAvard 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
flfty thousand florins,* Edward, early in the month
of March 1471, set sail from the port of A'ere. 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 haA'ing any design upon the
crown. His object in returning to England, he
said, was merely to recover the inheritance to Avhich
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 Heury," in the tliff erent
towns and villages through Avliich they passed.
He himself wore in his helmet an ostrich-plume,
the device of his rival, EdAA'ard Piince of AA'ales.:]:
* De Commines, tome i. p. 257.
t Fleetwood Chron. p. 1. J Leland's Collect, vol. ii. pp. 503-4.

KING RICHARD THE THlIiD. • 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 EdAvard's progress
Avas 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.
AA'ithin four miles of his line of march stood Pom
fret Castle : but though AA'arwick'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 AA'illiam Stanley and
Sir William Norres, the former bringing with him
four hundred men. t Three thousand more flocked
to him at Leicester, and at AA^arwick 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 geflius 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 aAvare that sooner or later his
enemies would be enabled to concentrate their
forces, and accordingly, though AVarAvick lay at
Coventry with an army much superior to his OAA-n,
he determined not only to risk an engagement, but,
if possible, to force it upon the Kingmaker. AA'ar-
wick, however, whatever may have been his reasons,
declined the combat. The young king therefore
resumed his march towards London, of AA'hich city
he confidently hoped to obtain possession. So
rapid had been his march, and so skilfuUy 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 metropoUs.
Had London refused to receive Edward Avithin 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 Avere probably ready
to follow their example. Their Avealthy husbands,
moreover, had their reasons for AAishing well to the
invader. They Avere grateful to him for the en-

KING EICHAED THE THIRD. 71
couragenient he had extended to commerce ; nor
Avas it a trifling circumstance in his favour that he
Avas indebted to many of them for large sums of
money, Avliich 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 AA'hen, in the green
glades of Hainault and AA^indsor 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.
t 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
kiug 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 sirailar
scene at Windsor: — "In the summer, the last that ever he saw, his
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, whioh oftentimes more
esteem, and take for greater kindness, u, little courtesy than a great
benefit."— 5w- T. More, Hist, nf Richard III. p. 5. Ed. 1821.

72 KING RICHARD THE THIRD.
George Neville, Ai'chbishop of York, who Avas 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 iieople,
and took up his abode in the bishop's j)alace.
Never, perhaps, had so hazardous, and apparently
desperate, an enterprise been crowned Avith 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 beUeve,
Richard of Gloucester Avas really enamoured of
Anne Neville, greatly must his exile havebeen 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 delayeil its perfecting till such time
as Warwick should have completed the lecovei'v of
the sovereignty of England for the Red Rose. If
* Fleetwood Chron. p. 16 ; Paston Letters, by Fenn, vol. ii. p. 65.

KING RICHARD 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 nnconsummated. Looking forAvard to the
inevitable time when the banner of York must be
again confronted with that of Lancaster, he prob
ably panted for the occasion when haply his sword
or his lance might leave Anne Neville a widow, yet
still a maid. AA'hen 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 ann.
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 fonned 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
AA^'arwick 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 TIIE THIRD.
before Margaret could come to his assistance. AVar
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 Avas only in his
nineteenth year, the confidence Edward placed in
his brother's discretion and courage was so great,
that he intrusted him Avith the command of the
right wing of his anny.* The post was rendered
the more important in consequence of Glouce.ster's
forces being immediately opposed to the veteran
forces of AA'^arAvick, headed by the mighty baron in
person. And valiantly, on that memorable day,
did the young piince fulfil his brother's expecta
tions. Bearing doAvn 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 Mihvater, Avere slain by his side.f
For six hours the battle was furiously and obsti
nately contested. In order to inspire confidence
in his men, AA'arAvick 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. t Buck's Life and Reign of Richard III. in Kennet, vol. i. p. 517.
t 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, AA'hen the great earl, remember
ing an aflecting promise which he had made to his
fiiend the late Duke of York, spared the life of
his son. The field of Barnet was the death-scene
of AA'arwick. A thick fog obscured the part of the
field in Avhich he fought ; his f oUoAvers 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 Aveeks afterwards, he was carried
to his grave. EdAvard and Gloucester, in the mean
* The old chroniclers differ in their accounts of V^arwick'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 TIIE THIED.
time, passed through admiring masses of peojile to
the great cathedral of St. Paul's, AA'here, in grati
tude for the victory Avhich had l)een vouchsafed to
him, Edward offered up, " at even-song," his oavu
standard and that of the great baron AA'ho had
formerly raised him to a throne. Thither also Avere
brought the bodies of A^'arAvick and Montagu,
which for three days ' ' layid nakid in St Paul is
Chirch to be seene." *
In the mean time. Queen Margaret had for Aveeks
been prevented by contraiy Avinds and tempestuous
Aveather from quitting the shores of France. At
length, on the 13th of April, she Avas enal^led to set
sail from Harfieur, and, on the following day, — the
very day on Avhich the great battle Avas raging at
Barnet, — she landed Avitli a few but intrepid fol
lowers at AA'eymouth. Relying on the resources
and the military genius of AA'anvick, as weU 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 Avhich
she had so long and so heroically struggled, AA'as
about to be triumphant. AA'hen, therefore, a few
hours after her landing, she Avas infonned of the
defeat and death of tlie mightiest of her champions,
and of the re-committal of King Henry to the
Tower, her grief and disappointment Avere over-
* Leland's Collect, vol. ii. p. 505 ; Fleetwood Chron. p. 21.

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 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 hygena
Aveep." 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 AA'arwick 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
retumed. 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, was 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 EICHAED 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 EdAvard 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 tlie latter
taken up a position, surrounded by dykes and
hedges, that, had it not been for his oAvn 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 Avas therefore clearly
the policy of his antagonist. Accordingly, after
maintaining a confiict for a short time Avith brisk
discharges of arrows, Gloucester made a movement
as if he had been worsted, and commenced a feigned
retreat.* The manoeuvre Avas completely success
ful. Somerset eagerly led his men from their in
trenchments, for the purpose, as he thought, of
pursuing the Yorkists, Avhen Gloucester suddenly
faced about and attacked the Lancastrians in his
* Habington in Kennet, vol. i. p. 452.

KING RICHARD THE THIED. 79
turn Avith 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 AA'enlock, 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 coAvard.
The probability is that AA^enlock 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 Avas followed by
the promiscuous slaughter of the flying Lancas
trians by their victorious foes. The carnage, more
especially on a narroAv bridge which spanned a mill-
stream, is desfcribed 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 EICHAED THE THIED.
Thus, by his valour and generalshixj, was the
young Duke of Gloucester main! y instrumental in
winning for his brother EdAvard the great victory
AA'hich 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 aa'ls-
dom, and admired for his chivalry on the field of
battle. AA''e might search in vain, perhaps, in the an
nals even of the wisest and the best, for a more Ulus
trious boyhood ! And yet, even at this early period
of his life, — a period AA'hen youth is usually actuated
by the purest and most generous motives, — avc find
him charged by the prejudiced chroniclers, who
wrote under the dynasty of the Tudors, Avith 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 conti'ol,
tempted him to become an usurper and a murderer.
As yet, however, not only, Ave think, can no offence
be with justice laid to his charge, biTt on the other
hand, his conduct appears to haAe 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 EICHARD 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 Piince of AA'ales 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 laAv
ful sovereign. If Edward, as is probable, antici
pated a submissive answer, he must have been dis
appointed as well as astonished. AA'ith 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."
Kinij Henry VI. Part HI. 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 KING RICHARD THE THIED.
The (^arliest writer, Ave beUev(-, Avho has chroni
cled this affecting story is Polydore Adrgil, Avhose
authority, inasmuch as he had conversed Avith, 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 Avas not only notori
ously infected Avith Lancastrian prejudices, l3ut it
must be borne in mind that he Avrote 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 A'irgil, not one of whom charges Richard of
Gloucester Avith being an actor in this detestable
crime. Buck, on the authoiity 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 sav ord."* 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, beneath 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 ofhis heroic consort." — Bennett's Hist, of Teiclesbury, p. 176.
In the same venerable edifice lie buried the false and perjured Clarence,
as also those two devoted adlierents ofthe Eed Rose, Edraund 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.

KING 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
AA'hich stroke, so by him received, he was hy the
king'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 Avas 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 ;t another observes, — ' ' and there was slain
in the field Prince Edward, whicli cried for succour
to his brother-in-law, the Duke of Clarence;":):
while the third positively states that the prince
' ' was taken fleeing to the townwards, and slain in
the fleld. "§ Lastly, Bernard Andreas, who wrote
in 1501, and whose prejudices were all arrayed
* Fabyan's Chronicle, p. 662.
t Memoires de Commines, vol. i. p. 262. " Et fut le prince de Galles
tue sur le champ et plusieurs auitres grans seigneurs,'' &c. — Ed. 1841.
X Warkworth Chronicle, p. IS. 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 impUes that the prince was
slain in flght.*
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, Ave 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 couAict 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 world; 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 AA'hether 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 Avhich might
have been delegated to the common headsman. -f-
* " Is enim ante Bernardi campum in Theoxberye prselio belligerens
ceciderat." — Fi(. Hen. Sept. pp. 21-2.
t 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. Hurae, 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 AA'as doubtless with a moth
er's pride, not unmlngled with a mother's fears,
that, on the morning of the battle of Tewkesbury,
she had beheld her gallant son arraying himself for
his flrst and last fight. When the mother and son
parted on • that fatal morning it was for the last
time. Having Avitnessed the total defeat of her
army, Margaret fled with the ladies of her suite to
a churcli near Tewkesbury, in which edifice, two
days afterwards, she was arrested by Sir AA^ilUam
Stanley, who conducted her to King Edward at
Coventry. Here she first received the afflicting in
telUgence 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 Avas committed to the Tower.
AA'ithin 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, of Eng. vol. iv. p. 189. Lastly, Sharon Turner, who had access to
better sources of information, differs altogetherfrom his predecessors;
his opinion agreeing with the contemporary account which we have
already quoted, that the prince " was taken as flying tovvards 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 AAdiether King Henry died a
natural death, or whether he fell by the hand of
an assassin, Ave shall presently have to consider. Of
Margaret of Anjou it remains to be said, that, after
having been detained a prisoner in different fortresses
in England for nearly five years, she Avas 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 Ufe had long
since ceased to possess any channs for her. Old
age seems to have crept prematurely over her.
Disease ravaged the beauty AA'hich had formerly
dazzled kings. Her days Avere 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 EdAvard returned to Lon
don, and seventeen days only after the battle
which lost him his croAvu, perished, in durance and
misery, the last king of the house of Lancaster, —
the pious, the gentle, and most unfortunate king,
Henry A'' I. The following day, Ave are told,+ 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 EICHARD THE THIED. 87
"more glaves and staves than torches," was
carried from the Tower to St. Paul's, AA^here it re
mained for some time exposed to the public view,
the "face open that every man niight see him." *
"To satisfy the credulous," Avrites 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 Avriters 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 EICHAED TIIE THIED.
And, if the rest be true which I have heard,
Thou cam'st 
Gloucester. I'll hear uo raore: — Die, prophet, in thy speech.
\_Slabs 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 IUe or death
unquestionably involved consequences of consider
able importance. So long as he Uved, 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 Ave have evidence that he
projected, if he did not actually contrive, the death
of Henry. "It was resolved in King EdAvard's
cabinet council, ' ' says Habington, ' ' that, to take
away all title from future insurrections. King
Henry should be sacrificed, "f This assertion, if
true, certainly gives a peculiar importance to cer
tain instructions given by EdAvard to the Arch
bishop of York, "to keep King Henry out of sanc
tuary. ' 'X Yet more indicative of EdAvard's anxiety
to rid himseU 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 THIED. 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 EdAvard of having rid himself of his
unhappy prisoner by foul means, Ave have next to
inquire into the nature of the evidence which
charges Richard of Gloucester Avith 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, "t These pas
sages are doubtless remarkable. Let us tum, 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 oraniura Anglicorum, imrao
omnium nationum ad quorum notitiam perveilit, detestabilissimum erat,
ipsum sanctissimum 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 loent that he was stykked with a
dagger by the hands of the Duke of Gloucester."*
Even Polydore A^irgil confines himself to the re
mark that common report attributed the crime to
Gloucester. "Henry VL," 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, ' ' sa ys
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, "Utfama constans est," lib. xxiv. p. 674; and
Camd. Soc. Trans, p. 156.
X Sir T. More's Richard III. p. 9.
I Xhe 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 raartyr." — OrmjL Chrmu
Cont- p. 468.

KING RICHARD THE THIRD. 91
Fleetwood and Warkworth chronicles are equally
silent. Some weight indeed has been attached to
the foUowing 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 OAd-
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 HI. it seems to have been a favor
ite place of abode, andhere, 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 VIL, afterwards lay-in there of her last
* Warkworth Chronicle, p. 21.
t Bayley's Tower of London, p. 22.
t Ibid. p. 26.
§ Ibid. p. 35.

92 KINCt EICHAED THE THIED.
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, imder
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 Avas
the cold-blooded assassin such as he is desciibed
by Shakspeare and the later chroniclers? He Avas
only in the nineteenth year of his age. No man
living shrank from incurring the censure of man- '
kind with greater sensitiveness. No man UAing
took greater pleasure in listening to the shouts and
applause of his felloAv-men. As Habington ob
serves, — " I cannot believe that a man so cunning
in declining envy, and Avinning honour to his name,
would have undertaken such a business. "f More-
* Fleetwood Chronicle, pp. 34, 37.
t Habington in Kennet, vol i, p. 455.

KING EICHAED 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. t Hewas 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 Avould 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." — Fleetwood Chronicle, p. 38.
t S. Tumer'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 crim.es 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 Avas not only in the
prime of youth, but was already the father of
several children. His brother Clarence had re
cently married a beautUul girl, Avho, 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. AA'e
have evidence that two esquires, Robert Ratcliffe
and WiUiam 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 AvaUs of the
Tower; and, lastly, Anthony Earl RiA'ers. who at
this period was Ueutenant of this palatial fortress,
was not only on bad terms Avith Richard, but was
also one of the most unlikely men living to lend
himself to the commission of a cold-blooded
* Rymer's Fa?dera, vol. xi. p. 712.

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 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 would be no less interesting than curious were
we 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, "t 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 RICHARD 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 .\nne.
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 ohild, 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 hira
Than I am made by my young lord and thee I —
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
stiiking scene, in AA'hich Richard of Gloucester
woos, fiatters, and Avins the Lady Anne.
" Your beauty, that did haunt me in ray sleep.
To undertake the death of all the world.
So I niight live one hour in your sweet bosora."t
*King Eichard III. Act i. Scene 2. tlbid.

KING EICHAED THE THIRD. 97
That such a scene of intemperate recrimination
should have taken place betAveen a royal youth of
eighteen and a high-bom 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 KING 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
probabiUty 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 Avould 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 doAvn 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 RICHARD THE THIED. 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's-le-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. AVhen 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, AA'ith
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 laAvyers
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.:}: 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.
t Croy. Chron. Cont. p. 470.
X S. Turner's Middle Ages, vol. iii. p. 324.
I Surtees' Hist, of Durham, vol. iv. p. 66.

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 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 ancl 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 Avorld ' ' 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 Eichard III. p. 8.
X HaU's Chronicle, p. 342 ; Speed, p. 694.
§ Holinshed's Chronicle, vol. iii. p. 447.
II Rossi Hist. Reg. Ang. p. 215 ; More, ut supra, p. 8.

102 KING EICHAED THE THIED.
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 1 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 bhih 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 ' ' Avith 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 birtli dry and Avithered ; born a monster in
nature, Avith all his teeth, Avith 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-
* Eossi Hist. p. 215.
t King Henry VI. Part HI. Act v. Sc. 6.
X Camden's Eemains, p. 353.
§ Sir T. More's Eichard III. p. 8.
II Baker's Chronicles of the Kings of England, p. 234.

KING EICHARD THE THIED. 103
tribute to Richard of Gloucester. Let us turn,
however, to the pages of contemporary writers,
more than one of Avhom Avere not only familiar with
the person of Richard, but had actually conversed
Avith 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 AVilliam 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.
Rous, 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 shoulders, 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 bome 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
* Eous's expression is, " ut scorpio vultu blandiens, cauda pungens,
sicet ipse cunctis se ostendit." — Hist. Reg. Ang. p. 215.

104 KING EICHAED THE TIIIED.
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 hehad 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 thathe Avas " of bodily shape comely enough,
only of low stature. ' ' X 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.
X Survey of London Life prefixed to vol. i. p. xviii. ; and Buck in
Kennet, vol. i. p. 548. " This prince," s.ays Hume, " was of a sraall
stature, hurap-backed, and had a harsh, disagreeable countenance." —
Hist, of Engl. vol. iii. p. 288. .\ccording to a raore diligent inquirer
than Hume, " his face was handsome."— -S'/iio-ott Tarncr's Middle A (/cs,
vol. iii. p. 443.

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 105
brother Edward, and very well made.* Our own
impression is, that though his staiture was low he
was not misshapen ; that though his flgure was
slight it Avas 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 mariiage
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 magniflcent abode of the
great Earl of WarAdck, 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 ToAvton.
Of these Middleham appears to have been his
* See Appendix A.
fLord 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 araplification of tradition, easily
swelled into shocking deformity." — Historic Doubts, Lord Orford's
Works, vol. ii. p. 166.

106 KING RICHARD THE THIED.
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 bome him, Ed
ward, afterwards Prince of AA'ales. It Avas, 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 Avith almost regal powers, and liAing
in almost regal splendour, he continued for the
next few years to discharge with justice and vigour
the high duties intrusted 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 tAventy-two.
It was in the month of June 1475 that EdAvard
IV., carrying Avith him, besides a large force of
infantry, fifteen thousand mounted archers, and
attended by the fioAver of his nobility, sailed from
Sandwich for the purpose of claiming the croAvn 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 foUoAved
the banner of his chivalrous brotlier, and landed at
* M(?moires, tome i. p. 336.

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 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, AA'hich Edward sent to Louis XI. to
resign the crown of France, was answered by civil
ities ; his threats Avere responded to by bribes.
Eventually the Iavo 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, who had dressed them
selves and their horses in their richest habiUments,
in honour to King Edward."* The conference
terminated by the EngUsh 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 EICHAED THE THIED.
plate, and a pension of 2000 croAvns 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 ires
noble et puissant roi de France! Largesse, lar
gesse!'' "* In the time of PhiUp 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.:): 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 draAving a sAvord?" § Even Lord
* Monstrelet's Chronicles, pp. 352, 353.
t De Coraraines, torae ii. pp. 167, 169.
I Ibid, tome i. p. 377.
I Habington in Kennet, vol. i. p. 465.

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 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, "t 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.
t Ibid.

110 KING EICHAED THE THIRD.
conveyed, lacked not in helping forth his brother
of Clarence to his death; which he resisted
openly."* "After Clarence," AA'rites 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 oavu- proper hands, "f Lastly,
Shakspeare not only charges him with fratricide,
but represents him as carrying the death-wamant
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 him."t
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 croAVn ; and, lastly, that, as Clarence's
only son, the infant Earl of AA'arAvick, Avas included
in the attainder of his father, Richard, by one
* Sir T. More's Richard III. p. 10.
t Sandford's Geneal. Hist, book v. p. 438.
X King Eichard III. Act i. Sc. 3.

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 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 Avhat 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 sucb 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 EICHAED 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 haAong 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 Avith much un
willingness that Edward signed the death-warrant
of Clarence ; and, chiefiy 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 especiaUy, envied him his princely estates.
the greater portion of Avhicli Avere 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, t
But, of all men, the king himself Avas the most
* Halsted's Life of Eichard III. vol. i. p. 331.
t Polydore Virgil, lib. xxiv. p. 681 ; Speed, p. 689 ; Hall, p. 326 ;
Eymer's Foedera, vol. xii. p. 95.

KING EICHAED THE TIIIED. 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
stiU 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 EdAvard 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.:):
* Croyl. Chron. Cont. p. 479.
fEot. Pari. vol. vi. p. 194.
X It raay be mentioned that one of the first steps taken by Edward

114 KING EICHAED THE TIIIED.
after his brother's execution was to obtain a repeal of the obnoxious
acts of parliament which had been piisKod during AVarwick's usurpa
tion ; viz. " the pretensed 49th 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. Eot. Pari.
vol. vi. p. 191.

CHAPTER III.
THE RISE TO GREATNESS OF EICHAED OF GLOUCESTEE.
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, tiU 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 AAith
a force of 4000 men, Richard pushed forward into
the heart of Scotland with thfj remainder of his

116 KING EICHAED THE TIIIED.
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 warUke barons, who, disgusted
with the conduct of their unworthy sovereign, Avith
drew their aid from him in his hour of need.
Gloucester was thus enabled to enter Edinburgh in
triumph. At the eamest 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 waste the whole kingdom with fire and
sword. This threat produced the desUed effect.
Trembling at the prospect of the disasters Avhich
threatened their country, the Scottish nobles sent
to him to entreat a suspension of arms. Subse
quently a treaty Avas executed, by one of the arti
cles of which Berwick Castle Avas deUvered 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 Avith 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 thoughts," 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, "t 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 raan, whora he had ever seen.
Memoires de Coraraines, vol. i. pp. 239, 374.
t De Coraraines, tome i. p. 246, tome ii. p. 281.

118 KING ItlCHARD THE THIRD.
difficulties compelled him to exact money from his
subjects under the name of beneA'olence, 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 haA'e
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 knoAvn kind of
malady, "t 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 AA^ales, 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, Avhen 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 RICHARD TIIE 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 God occa
sionaUy 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 wheri 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. Tlie 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 attemjjts to

120 KING RICHARD TIIE THIRD.
render himself less unworthy of appearing in the
presence of his Creator.
The death of his brother Edward naturaUy
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 Avell-informed person in England, a cIa'U
war at this period must have appeared almost inevi
table. One indiA'idual only there Avas who, from
his exalted rank, — his high reputation as a states
man and a soldier, — his independence of faction, —
the friendly terms on wliich he had ever associated
with men of all parties, — his profound knoAvledge
of human character and of the motives of human
action, as well as his singular power of concealing
his O'wn thoughts and feelings from the scrutiny of
others, — was capable of grappling Avith every emer
gency, and of thus preserving his country from the
horrors of civil Avar. That man Avas Richard Duke
of Gloucester.
At the time Avhen King Edward breathed his last,
the two great opposing parties in the State con
sisted, on the one hand, of the AVoodviUe faction,
supported by the authority and infiuenee of the
queen, and, on the other, of the ancient nobility,
at the head of whom Avas 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
herseU 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 poAver, 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 chUdren, 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 shoAATi
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 RICHARD 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 tranquiUity
and well-being of the State. ' ' And there AAithal, ' '
writes Sir Thomas More, "the king, no longer
enduring to sit up, laid him doAAm 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 famiUes
of England had far too much cause to be offended
and disgusted with the upstart WoodviUes 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 esquu-es 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 afibrding a curious picture of the habits and customs of the age.
Hist, of the Middle Ages, vol. iii. p. 342.
t Sir T. More's Eichard III. p. 17.

KING IHCHARD THE THIED. 123
of the proudest honours of the peerage, as Avell 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 infiuenee with
her husband, her brother, Anthony AA'oodville, 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 severaUy 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 Eobin of Redesdale, in 1469. The
substance of the grievances of which the insurgents complained, was,
" that the king had been too lavish of gifts tcf 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 RICHARD THE THIRD.
from the past, they persisted in provoking an hostil
ity whicli 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
accompUshed brother, Anthony AVoodA'iUe, Earl
Rivers. For many reasons the latter AAas 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 AA'ood villes. 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 poUcy 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 WoodvUle 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
AA'illiam Lord Hastings, and Thomas Lord Stanley.
The former, uniting the brilliant qualities of the
warrior with the Avisdom 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 fleld 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 were 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 SAvorn to him
to maintain the rights and interests of his heir ;
and, accordingly, not only Avere 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 aU mod
erate men, should turn with anxiety to Richard of
Gloucester. His character for Avisdom and valour
was estabUshed beyond aU question. No man liv
ing was more interested in averting the horrors of
civil war. As govemor 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 identUying himseU Avith
either party ; both sides, therefore, Avere sanguine
of obtaining his countenance and support. As for
Richard individuaUy, all his prejudices Avere natur
ally on the side of the barons. ^VAvare doubtless
of this fact, Buckingham, shortly after the death
of the king, secretly despatched an express to him,

KING RICHARD THE THIRD. 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 THIED.
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 and keen-sighted obser
vers of human character? Is it likely that so shreAvd
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 Avay 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 heljied to invest him Avitli
an authority Avhich subsequently enabled him to
shed their blood on the scaffold, and to seize a croAvn
which Hastings, at least, aa'ouM have died to pre
serve for another?
That Richard Avas deeply impregnated Avith that

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 129
inordinate ambition which was the ruling passion
and vice of the Plantagenets, — that he yielded to
temptation so soon as the aUurement 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 govemment 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 dazzUng temptation of a crown, —

130 KING EICHAED THE THIED.
had each their share in inducing him to consult nis
own safety by the destruction of others, and to
grasp the glittering prize which Avas 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, Ave 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 IUe,
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 and upright piince Avho
dispensed even justice at Pontefract and spurned
the gold of King Louis at Picquigny, and the Rich
ard Avho subsequently became the murderer of his
nephews and the guilty possesser of a crown.*
*Had Eichard'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 immediatelv
after his decease, for the purpose of counteracting the raeasures 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,
wherc:is Eichard remained in the north till the end of the month, and
did not reach London till the 4th of May.

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 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 was 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' Arraag
nac ; and, again, Henry 111. 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 mori ! "

132 KING EICHAED 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 flying from
the fleld 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. AA'e must
remember that the throne of England Avas A'irtuaUy
elective ; that the accession of the young in years,
or the feeble in mind, Avas 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 Avas amazing.
That he should have been able to overcome the
powerful Woodville faction, strengthened as it Avas
by the authoiity 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 Avhich 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 AVestminster 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 EICHAED THE TIIIED.
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 4tli of May Avtis fixed
upon for his coronation. But at this point their
good understanding ceased. Rivers, having the
government of South AA'ales, had under his com
mand a considerable military force, at the head
of which it was 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 hostUity. Rivers hated Hastings
because the late king had preferred him to be gov
ernor of Calais and Guines; AA'hUe Hastings had
every reason to attribute to Rivers an imprisonment
which he had formerly undergone in the ToAver,
and his narrow escape from the block. The queen,
too, seems to have conceiA'ed an invincible aversion
to Hastings; believing him to have been too
' ' secretly familiar with her late husband in Avanton
company." Under these circumstances, the arrival
of Rivers in the metropolis at the head of an armj-
would probably have been the signal for sending
Hastings to the scaffold. But Hastings had also
ample public, as Avell as private motives, for his
opposition. The anxiety of the AA'oodvilles to fill
London Avith armed men Avas sufficiently indicative
of their intention to maintain their poAver by force.

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 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 tis unnecessary, but as a signal for again
lighting up civil Avar. He even threatened to
depart for his government at Calais. AA'ho, he
inquired, were the king's foes, against whom it was
considered necessary to defend him? Was it his
Grace of Gloucester, — Avas 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 Iavo thousand followers.*
In the mean time, though still absent at his gov
emment 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, we 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 AVoodvilles, 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 clue 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 govemment
was only temporary, and had no other object than
to enable him to do homage to his young nephew
at his coronation. AVhen at length it suited him to
take his departure from the north, he was attended
only by a smaU though chosen cavalcade, consist
ing of six hundred knights and esquires. During
his progress towards the south, he manUested, 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," aac are told, "being the
first to take that oath, which soon after he was the
first to violate, "t In the large towns through
* Croyl. Chron. Cont. p. 486.
t Sir T. More's Eichard III. p. 23.
X Polydore Virgil, lib. xxv. p. 685, and Camd. Soc. Trans, p. 173 ;
Croyl. CHiron. 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 especiaUy, "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 oi
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, Uttle 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 Eichard III. p. 134.

138 KING RICHARD TIIE THIRD.
the metropolis, while he himself remained behind
with Grey at Northampton, Avith the ostensible
object of paying their respects to Richard as first
prince of the blood, and submitting to his "aaIU
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 Avith 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 aU
men most detested the AA'oodvilles. 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 neA\s Avas in all probability far from
* Croyl. Chron. Cont. p. 486.

KING RICHARD THE THIED. 139
being unpalatable to Richard. It was clear that
the WoodviUes 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 WoodviUes, he would
have fonnd it difficult to justify to the world the
act of violence which, on that memorable night, he
projected with Buckingham.
But AA'hatever 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 Aiolent
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 EICHAED THE TIIIED.
the WoodviUes, — 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 betAveen Rivers and the
king Avas of course their first object. Accordingly,
horsemen Avere sent out to patrol the roads betAveen
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 Avas not till
that town appeared in sight that Gloucester thrcAv
ofl 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 EICHAED THE THIED. 141
ter and Buckingham then rushed forward to the
king's quarters. AA'ith 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 fiiends, Gloucester and Buckingham,
Avith every 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 Bichard III. p. 27.

142 KING EICHARD 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 A'iolent
seizure of the hateful AA^oodvilles 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 FoUowed
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 Avas 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 AA'estminster, where
she was subsequently joined by her son, the Mar
quis of Dorset. AVhen, shortly before daybreak,
the Lord Chancellor Rotheram, Archbishop of
York, repaired to her with the great seal, he Avit
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 Kennet, 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."
AA'hen at length the day dawned, and the arch
bishop looked forth upon the Thames, he beheld the
river coA^ered Avith boats, full of the Duke of Glou
cester's servants, "AA'atching that no one should go
to sanctuary, "-t- Some intention there seems to have
been, on the part of the queen's fiiends, 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, Avithin the space of a few days, had Rich
ard of Gloucester raised himseU 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 AA'oodvilles, flocked to him with
offers of service and enthusiastic expressions of
applause. "He was suddenly fallen into so great
trust," Avrites 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.
t Sir T. More's Eichard IIL pp. 30, 31 ; Hall, p. 350.
X Croyl. Chron. Cont. p. 487.

144 KING RICHARD 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 AAisely had he
pursued his object, that his secret designs, AA'hat
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, Avere crowded by the
noblest and wisest of the land. The young king
was left "in a manner desolate. "f The sphitual
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. FoUoAving a precedent in the case of Humph
rey Duke of Gloucester, who had been appointed
protector during the minority of Henry A'l. , the
council of state, ' ' with the consent and good AviU
of all the lords,":]: invested Richard Avith 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 parUament seems to have
been considered not only as unessential, but, for the
time, to haA'e beeu 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.
X Croyl. Chron. Cont. p. 488.

KING RICHARD THE THIRD. 146
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 Avhether Richard entertained any serious
thoughts of deposing his brother's son, much less
of procuring his assassination.
On the 19th of May we flnd 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 purveyors. t
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.
fSir T. More's Eichard III. pp. 69, 70; Harl. MS. (No. 433, Art.
1651), quoted in Halsted's Eich. III. vol. ii. p. 68.

146 KING EICHAED THE THIED.
cease so soon as that ceremony had beeu performed ;
young EdAvard would then, as anointed king, as
sume the sovereign power. No option therefore
remained to Gloucester, but either to descend AA'ith
a good grace into his former station as a subject, or
else to stifle every compunction of con,science, and
seize the croWn which he had solemnly swom 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 entaU imminent per
sonal danger both on himself and his friends. Not
only had he offended the AA'oodvilles beyond aU
hope of reconciliation, but his recent seizure of
Edward's person at Stony Stratford, and the airest
and. imprisonment of the king's dearest fiiends and
nearest relatives, Avere acts AA'hich no sovereign
was likely to forget or forgive. Let the crown
once descend upon the broAv of young Edward, and
who could doubt but that the queen-mother and
her kindred would bring all their infiuenee 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 Avas the interest, as aa'cU

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 147
as the duty of the protector, to estabUsh 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
would 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 WoodviUes, and in aU
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 ciAil 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 EICHAED THE THIED.
dred. Buckingham, a man of great ambition and
avarice, the protector seems to have found little
difficulty in corrupting. The duke, moreover, Avas
too much detested by the AA'oodvilles, 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 shaU 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 Avas the discovery of plots
for the release of these unhappy 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 oAvn.
Hastings, as we have seen, AA'as resolved at aU
hazards to stand by the son of his dead master. He
was, at this time, apparently reconcUed to the
queen and the WoodviUes, 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 liAing man ;
and certainly, of all living men, he Avould seem to
have been the last Avhom Richard Avould AA'antonly

KING EICHARD 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 Avas 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 AA'ho 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 croAvn 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 Avith 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 RICHARD 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 Eichard HI. p. 69 ; More's Life of Edward V. in
Kennet, vol. i. p. 493.

CHAPTER IV.
THE USURPATION OP EICHAED OF GLOUCESTEE.
r\N 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
graphicaUy 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 Avith the Bishop of Ely on the exceUence of
his strawberries, for which the garden of his epis-

152 KING EICHAED THE TIIIED.
coi»al residence, Ely House in Holbom, AA'as
famous. "My lord of Ely, when I was last in Holbom,
1 saw good strawberries in your garden there ;
I do beseech you send for some of them."
King Richard HI 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 council, the pro
tector retired awhile from the apartment, desiring
the lords to proceed Avith 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 fiiendship, and
the affection which the protector Avas believed to
entertain for him, ventured to reidy to the infuri
ated prince. "Surely, my lord, " he said, " thej-
deserve to be pimished as heinous traitors, Avhoever
they be." At these Avords the rage of the pro-

KING EICHAED THE THIRD. 153
tector seemed to increase. "Those traitors," he
exclaimed, boldly accusing the queen, ' ' are the
sorceress, my brother's Avife, and his mistress, Jane
Shore : see how by their sorcery and witchcraft
theyhave miserably destroyed my body! " And
therewith, writes Sir Thomas More, ' ' he plucked
up his doublet-sleeve to his elbow upon his left
arm ; where he showed a weiish withered arm and
small."* The lords of the council looked at each
other in terror and amazement. Again Hastings was
the flrst 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 wid- ands? I tell thee,
traitor, they have done it, and thou hast joined
with them in this villany ; I swear by St. Paul I
AviU not dine before your head be brought to
me! "t
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 maligjiancy formerly delighted to
attribute to Eichard 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.
t Sir. T. More's Eichard IIL pp. 70— 73; More's Lifeof Edward
V. in Kennet, vol. i. pp. 493-4.

154 KING EICHAED THE THIED.
followed. Lord Stanley, the Archbishop of York,
the Bishop of Ely, and other lords of the councU,
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 doAvn 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 Avas
seized and dragged to the green in front of the
Tower chapel ; a priest was hurriedly obtauied to
receive his confession ; a log of wood, provided for
the repair of the chapel, served as a block. Tims
perished the Avise, the brilliant and fascinating
Hastings ! A more honourable late aAvaited his re
mains. His head and body were conveyed to
Windsor, where, inthe royal chapel of St. George,
they were placed by the side of the great king
whom he had formerly so loyaUy and affectionately
served, and the rights of AA'hose son he had died in
his endeavours to defend.*
*Sir T. More's Eichard 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 IA'., had forraerly 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 rae 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 EICHARD THE TPIIED. 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 AA^estminster. 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; Avhereas, on the other hand, Richard
had not only excellent state reasons for wishing to
Avithdraw 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 AA^oodvilles 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 Velusla, 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 ray said lord and
raine, 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 soleran
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 EICHAED THE THIRD.
charge of the person and education of the heir pre- ¦
sumptive to the throne. It Avas 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 Avhich
he encountered from the Archbishops oi Canterbury
and York, would have taken his nephoAv 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 Avhich AA'ere
built the church and sanctuary of AA'estminster. f
* 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 AVestmmster 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 Avas 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 aU 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, tumed 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 Kennet, vol. i. p. 491.
t More's Hist, of Eichard 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 Avith open arms,
kissed him with great apparent affection. "Now
welcome," he said, "my lord, Avith all my heart."
And thereupon, writes Sir Thomas More, "forth-
Avith 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 authoiity, 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 Avere the blood
thirsty and unscrupulous monster Avhich history
usually represents him to have been, it Avas mani
festly not his policy, at this time, to call to his aid
* Sir T. More's Rich. 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 THIED. 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,
Avho, 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 KING EICHAED THE TIIIED.
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 was
now evidently pursuing.
It was in this, his hour of difficulty and need,
that there arrayed himseU on the side of the pro
tector, a man whose high position in the church,
whose long experience in state affairs, and Avhose
profound knowledge of the laAv, rendered him a
most valuable auxiliary. This person Avas Robert
Stillington, Bishop of Bath and AA'ells, Avhose
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 with a high rei)uta-
tion for leaming. The applause Avith Avhich he
took his degree of Doctor of LaAvs has been
especially recorded. To King Edward IA'. 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, Avhen ill health is said to have com-

KING 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 EdAvard selecting him, Iavo
years afterAvards, to preside over a secret and not
very dignified mission to the court of Biittany.
When, in pursuance of his ruthless purpose of ex
tirpating the house of Lancaster, Echvard sought to
entrap the young Earl of Richmond, afterAvards
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 iU-success, which the ex-chancellor encountered
on this occasion, prejudiced him in the eyes of his
sovereign, or AA'hether, as seems not impossible, he
had imijlicated 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 suse." — Rymer's Fcedera, vol.
xii. p. 66.
t 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 Stillington' s disgrace, tiU
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 AA'as, 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 estabUshed, 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 Avhich rests
entirely upon the testimony of the bishop, the late
king, previously to his romantic maniage Avith
Elizabeth Woodville, had fallen in love Avith the
Lady Eleanor Boteler,t 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 AVorIvS, 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 flnd researches
assisted by referring to Dugdale's Baronage, vol. i. pp. 331-2 & 596, and
vol. ii. p. 235 ; Eot. Pari. vol. vi. p. 441 ; Croyl. Chron. p. 4S9 ; and
Sir E. Brydges' Peerage, vol. iii. p. 19. There is one great difficulty

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 163
Shrewsbury. Failing in his attempt to corrupt her
virtue, EdAvard, it AAas said, secretly made her his
wUe. According to the bishop, he himself per
formed the ceremony, and was the sole witness
present on the occasion.*
AA'hether such a marriage was ever really solemn
ized, it is now impossible to determine. Certainly
there are many circumstances Avhicli 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 itseU 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 chU
dren in marriage with those of Edward ; neither
can we doubt but that Clarence and AA'arwick,
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 lhe
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 EICHAED THE THIED.
evidence produced, as well as the suspicious fact of
the alleged marriage having been kept a secret tUl *
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 Avas founded,
is known to have been drawn up by the unfriendly
Stillington ; f and, moreover, the attestation Avhich
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-
* Eot. Pari. vol. vi. p. 241. The reader raust on no account confound,
as Sir Thomas More would seem to have done, the Lady Eleanor
Boteler with a once faraous mistress of Edward IV., Elizabeth Lucy,
by whora he is said to have had an illegitimate son, Arthur Plantag
enet, Viscount I'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. Pari, 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 EICHAED THE THIED. 165
umny, and, by the adoption of an unprecedented
departure from parUamentary 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.*
AVhether Stillington, presuming him to have
been guilty, Avas 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 Avas 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 EICHAED THE THIED.
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. AA'hatever may have been the
offence Avith which he was charged, he was ex
amined before the parliament at Paris, and throAvn
into the prison of the Petit Chatelet. Here, it is
said, he died of want and neglect. Not impossibly,
however, some zealous EngUsh exUe, 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 StiUington, 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-chanceUor,
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 EICHARD THE THIRD. 167
be spared. He died in durance in AVindsor Castle,
in the month of June 1491.*
In the mean time, the execution of Hastings, and
the imprisonment of Lord Stanley and the tAvo
prelates, instead of creating alarm, would seem to
have increased the confidence of the public in the
govemment 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 as 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.:): As regards the conduct of the pro-
*Lord Campbell's Lives ofthe Chancellors, vol. i p. 391.
t Sir T. More's Eichard III. pp. 96-97, 99.
X Eot. Pari. vol. vi. p. 194

168 KING 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 Avere 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 Avas anticipated
with the greatest apprehension. Richard, on the
contrary, was in the prime of IUe ; he had shoAvn
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
WoodviUes to power; while the clergy Avere 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 moraUty and virtue. It Avas 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 Avho
sincerely believed in the asserted illegitimacy of the
young king and his brother, as well as in the valid- "
ity of the attainder Avliich excluded the Earl of
AA''arwick from the successiou. Lastlv, the selfish

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 169
interests of mankind were ranged on the side of the
protector. The rule of a wise, an experienced, and
a vigorous piince 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
probabiUty 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 RICHARD THE THIRD.
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 daUy
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 haAdng 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 Avith danger, would
have coupled it with some expression of apprehen
sion or alarm. But even the Avell-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 AA'iites, "there shall
* Drake's Eboracum, p. HI.

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 171
be 20,000 of my lord protector and my ±ord 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 Pomfret.:}: 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.
t Sir Thomas Vaughan was nearly related to the WoodviUes, a sig
nificant circumstance which Miss Halsted has pointed out in her Life
of Eichard III. vol. ii. p. 55, note.
JEous, Hist. Eeg. Ang. pp. 213-4; Croyl. Chron. Cont. p. 489.
Eivers' 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 Northuraberland 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 Eivers met with was

172 KING EICHAED 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 Richard'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 Avith 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 poUcy. But, tn
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" (Hurae, vol. iii. p. 287), may be presumed to have had in
sending Eivers 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 Avith which Eivers 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 ple.isure 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 hira to a cruel death.

KING EICPIARD TIIE 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
Avhich Ave 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 of Hastings had actually entered the
service of the protector's chief ally and abettor, the
Duke of Buckingham. t
That, by this time, Richard had secretly sounded
the views of many of the most infiuential 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
suff'rages, 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 weU as the evils which
the rule of a minor was certain to entail on the
* Excerp. Hist. p. 17. f Ibid.

174 KING RICHARD THE THIRD.
commonwealth, — 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 aldennan of the present
day has no more in common Avith the alderman of
the middle ages, than the easy peer Avho, in the
nineteenth century, wears the garter at a draAving-
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 Avere 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 AA'iUiam AA'alworth,
who felled Wat Tyler to the earth at Smithfield ; in
Sir John Crosby, who, as a Avarrior, grasped the
hand of the fourth EdAA-ard 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, Avliom
* Stow's Survey ofLondon, book v. p. 81.

KING RICHARD THE THIED. 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 Avhich 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 A'ery 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 betAveen 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. t 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 mUitary 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. AA'hen 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 Aictory 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 Avas by any con
siderable armed force, Avould never have contem
plated the bold step AA'hich he Avas about to take,*
unless he had previously satisfied himseU 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, Avhicli it Avas
clearly his policy not to augment, but to aUay;

KING RICHARD THE THIED. 177
and, lastly, his 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 infiuential
citizens had looked up to him as, in every sense of
the word, their protector.
Tlie 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,"t he not only insisted onthe ille-
* Excerp. Hist. p. 1 6.
t " But the multiplying brood of the ungodly shall not thrive, nor
take deep rooting from bastard slips, nor lay any fast foundation." —
Booh of Wisdom, iv. 3.

178 KING EICHAED TIIE THIED.
gitimacy of the young king and his brother, but is
said to have had the boldness to descant uj)on 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 A'ery
face ' ' of the noble duke his father ; he was ¦ ¦ the
same undoubted image, the express Ukeness, of
that noble duke." According to Sir Thomas More,
it had been preconcerted between the protector and
the preacher, that, at this moment, the fonner
should present himself, as if by accident, to the
people, when it Avas hoped that "the multitude,
taking the doctor's words as proceeding from divine ¦
inspiration, would have been induced to cry out
Qod save King mcJiard!"'* 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 oaa'u conviction,
howevei', is that the story is altogether apocrj^ahal.
Not only was so paltry an artifice incompatible with
the protector's admitted saga(ity and strong sense.
* Sir T. lAIort's Edward \". in Kennet, vol. i. p. 497 : More's Hist, of
Richard III. p. 101.

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 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 unUkely 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 aUusion 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 giA'^en
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 Adth ' ' 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 EICHARD 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 Avith
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- '
pacifies. 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 exiDerience of his own '
deservings and the strength of his alliance."*
Accordingly, on the very day after the meeting
at GuUdhall, 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 Eichard HI. in Kennet, vol. i. p. 523.
t The fact of Eichard 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, Eichard, to
those of her grandsons ; and, in the next place, it goes far to give the
lie to the cruel charge, whioh has been brqpght 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 Eichard 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 EICHAED TIIE 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 nephcAvs would be charged against him
as a crime. AA'liat could be more natural, then,
than that he should have shrunk from being the
only traitor? In the day when he might be caUed
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 AA'hen he accepted
a legitiraate child to her husband but the protector, and, I suppose, the
Duchess of Suflolk ? " — Hist. Doubts, Lord Orford's Works, vol. ii. pp.
131, 200.
* This raunificent and respectable citizen was a member of the
Goldsmiths' Company. Besides rebuilding "the old gate called
Cripplegate, at his own expense" [Stou; book i. p. 18), he founded and
endowed a free school at Stockport, in Cheshire (Ibid, book v. p 60).
Six months after Eichard's elevation to the throne, we find him selling
to Shaw, whom he calls his merchant, a considerable portion of his
plate, viz. 275 lbs. 4 oz. of troy weight. The amount received bv
Eichard was 6501. 13s. 4d., which was paid, on the 23rd December 1483,
to Mr. Edraund Cliatterton, trensurer of the king's chamber. A list of
the articles sold may be found in Stow's " Survey." Ibid, book v.
p. 124.

KING EICHARD THE THIRD. 183
a ci'OAvn, it Avas contrary to his oavu wishes and
better judgment, and solely in deference to the
solicitations of the ' ' lords spiritual and temporal, ' '
and ' ' for the public Aveal 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 rae
From all the impure blots and stains thereof :
For God doth know, and you raay partly see.
How far I am frora 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 hira 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. Pari, 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 raarriage with one Lady Eleanor Boteler
before his raarriage to Queen Elizabeth ; added to which, the blood of
his other brother, George Duke of Clarence, had been attainted ; so
that, at the present tirae, no certain and uncorrupted lineal blood could
be found of Eichard Duke of York, except in the person of the said
Eichard Duke of Gloucester. For which reason he was entreated, at the
end of the said roll, on part qf ihe lords and commons qf ihe realm, to
assurae his lawful rights." — Croyl. Chron. Cont. p. 489.

184 KING EICHAED THE THIED.
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 Richard ! 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 Eichard IIL p. 123.

KING EICHAED 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 Avhich — 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, atthe 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 Eichard III. p. 125.

186 KING EICHAED 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 WoodviUes 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 " ca'U apparelled and worse
harnessed, ' ' that, when they assembled at muster «
in Finsbury Fields, f the citizens of London used to
laugh them to scom. Thus, not only on the part
of the lay and spiritual lords, but on the part of
the commonalty, we search in A'ain 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 Avho
flocked to do honour to him at his coronation.
Never had a more splendid or more solenm pageant
been witnessed on a similar occasion. AA'hen, on
the day preAious 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 foUowed 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 manUested 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 tiiumph
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, — himseU a Plantagenet
on the mother's side, and great-grandson of Edward
IIL* — 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 foUoAved 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 Avalked the Earl
Marshal of England, the Duke of Norfolk, bearing
the crown, and immediately after him foUowed
Richard himself, gorgeously arrayed in robes of
purple velvet, furred with ermine, with a coat and'
surcoat of crimson satin. Over his head Avas borne
a rich canopy supported by the barons of the Cinque
Ports. On one side of him walked StUUngton,
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 foUoAved that of
his queen, Anne Neville. The Earl of Huntingdon
bore her sceptre ; the Viscount Lisle the rod and
dove ; and the Earl of AA'iltshire her croAvn. 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 RICHARD 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
VIL, 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, foUowed 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 communi©n to the king and

* MS. in the Harleian collection, quoted in Brayley and Britton's
History of the Palace of W^estminster, pp. 332-3 ; Excerpta Historica,
p. 380, &c. ; Buck's Eichard 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.
t The lord-raayor, according to ancient usage, served the king and
queen with wine at the banquet, as chief butler of England. " .\nd the
sarae raayor, after dinner ended, ofiered to the said lord the king, wine
in a gold cup, with a golden vial [cum fiola aurea] full of water to
teraper the wine. And after the wine was taken by the loi-d 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 custoras of the city of London, in
such cases used." — Slow' s Surrey of London, book v. pp. 153-4.

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 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 Avas done, anon one of the
lords brought unto the chamiDion 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,
tumed 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 iUuminated
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 KING RICHARD THE THIRD.
been previously served, Richard and his consort
rose up and departed to theU 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.
rriHE 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 govemment in their several
counties, and to see that none of his subjects Avere
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 Rous, Hist. Ang. Reg. p. 216 ; Sandford, Gen. Hist, book v. p.
434. X Eous, ut supra, p. 216 Camden's Eemains, p. 353.
193

194 KING EICHARD TIIE 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, Avhom he engaged to protect and de
fend as her good and gracious sovereign lord, and
" to sufler none to do her wrong." * He listened
complacently to a petition from the university of
Cambridge, in favour of their chanceUor, the Arch
bishop of York, whom, at their soUcitation, 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 fiiends, and of those Avho
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 HoAAard, AAas created
Earl of Surrey and invested Avith the Garter. The
Duke of Buckingham, AA'ho of all men had been
chiefly instrumental in elevating Richard to the
throne, was awarded the princely lordships and
*Harh MSB. 433, p. 108, quoted in S.Turner's Middle Ages, vol.
iv. p. 27.

KING RICHARD THE THIRD. 195
lands of the De Bohuns, Earls of Hereford, and the
lucrative stcAvardship of many of the crown manors. ¦
He was also appointed constable of England and
governor of the royal castles in AA'ales. William
Viscount Berkeley was created Earl of Notting
ham, and Francis Lord Lovel appointed chamber
lain of the household, constable of the castle of
AA'allingford, and chief butler of England.
On the 28rd 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 hia authority in the event of
danger. In the north, his former good govemment had
been fuUy 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 ' ' AA'hich
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, AA'orcester,
St. Asaph, and St. David's, the Earls of Lincoln
and Surrey, Lord Lovel, Lord Stanley, Lord Aud
ley, Lord Beauchamp, and other nobles, sweUed
his train. Waynflete, Bishop of AA' inchester, con
ducted him to the royal apartments in Magdalen
College, of which that eminent prelate was the
founder, t At Gloucester, the city from which he
had derived his ducal title, he was received Adth
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 Avas 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.
X 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
weU 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 w^e 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 croAAming tiiumph. 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 fiiends, — whether from a
yearning for popularity, or perhaps from some
sounder motive of policy, — he caused himseU 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 alderraen of that important city : " This I advise
you, as laudably as your wisdom can imagine, to receive hira and the
queen at his coming, as well with pageants and with such good speeches
as can goodly, this short warning 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 raany 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, Avith scarcely less pomp and mag
nificence, than when Cardinal Bourchier had placed
the crown on his head in the abbey of AA^'estmin-
ster.* Richard may possibly have been not only
the unprincipled usui-per, 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 beUeve
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 Avas him
self. Not the least interesting figure that walked in
procession at the second coronation of Richard IIL,
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 bro avs 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 EICHAED THE THIED. 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 Avould 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 which 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 AA''ales 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 EICHAED THE THIED.
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 Avorship-
fuUy received with pageants and other, &c., &c. ;
and his lords and judges, in every place, sitting
determining the complaints of poor folks, Adth due
punition of offenders against his laws." *
Hitherto also his progress, like his reign, had
been prosperous and tranquil. On his arrival at
Lincoln, howevei', rumours appear to haA-e 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 necessarUy have
been many among them who Avere indebted either
for their coronets or their mitres to the great king
whom they had so recently foUowed to the tomb,
and to whom therefore the Avelfare of his unoffend
ing offspring must have been a matter of interest.
Men, in that turbulent age, may have set Uttle
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 were not, necessarily, either ungener--
ous or ungrateful. Fallen greatness, more especi
ally when associated Avith innocence and youth,
* Drake's Ebor. p. 116.

KING EICHAED THE TIIIED. 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 tothe day of his deposition EdAA-ard 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 AA'ho, 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 ol Richard's coronation, the young
princes had been beheld by no human eye but those

202 KING EICHAED THE THIED.
of their keepers and attendants. Accordingly, in
many places, and especially in the southem and
western counties, secret ineetings 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 AA^estminster, and transported
into foreign parts. Thus should any "fatal mis
hap ' ' have befallen the young princes, the croAvn
might yet be transmitted in the direct Une 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 stomi Avhich was
gathering than he prepared to encounter it with the
energy and resolution Avliich 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 AA'estmin
ster, we are inclined to think either that the male
heirs of King EdAvard'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 EICHAED THE THIED. 203
porary writer, — "The noble church of the monks at
AA'estminster, 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
seU, 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, "t appears to have wounded and disturbed
the usurper more than any other event of his Ufe.
Hollow, indeed, did it prove the ground to be on
* Croyl. Chron. Cont. p. 491.
t Letter from the king to the Lord Chancellor Eussell, Bishop of
Lincoln, dated Lincoln, 12th October. — Kenneths Complete Hist. vol. i. p.
532, note.

204 KING RICHARD THE THIRD.
which he stood. If Buckingham could desert him,
who, of all the others AA'ho had swom fidelity to him
on his coronation day, were likely to prove more
grateful or more true? Henceforth it Avas eAident
that safety ancl 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 himseU. Little more than three
months had elapsed since he had cheerfuUy carried
the white staff at the coronation of Richard ; little
more than two months since, apparently on the
most loving terms, they had bidden fareweU 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 Ave consider
to be — ancl 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, Avas that AA'hich
he himself assigned to Morton, Bishop of Ely, at
Brecknock. "AA'hen," he said, "I AA'as credibly
informed of the death of the tAvo young innocents,
his (Richard's) oavu natural nephcAvs, contrary to

KING RICHARD THE THIED. 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.

206 KING EICHAED THE TIIIED.
still living and in safe and honourable keeping.
For instance, when, only a few years later, the
world whispered that Henry VIL had secretly put
to death the last male heir of the Plantagenets,
Edward Earl of AVarwick, Henry at once sUenced
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 acknoAvledging that
his unhappy nephews had passed away from the
earth. t 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 poUcy 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 Avere 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 EICHAED THE THIED. 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 Grafton, "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.
AVhen 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 EICHARD 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 sui)erstitious age, naturally
traced his great affliction to the execrations of that
agonized mother.
The earliest Aviiter, who i^rofesses 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 AA'hich foreigners
give of events which have occurred in England
must be received Adth caution, if not AA'ith 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 infonnation 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, Avhich the young king Avas still alloAved
to wear, the child, duiing 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 Ave 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.-j-
Both wiiters agree in their accounts of the state of
dejection into which the elder piince 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, tom.
xliv. p. 402. In a contemporary letter, dated 2Ist June 1483, the
younger prince is described as being, " blessed be Jesu, merry." Ex
cerp. Hist. p. 17.
t That Sir Thomas More's History of King Eichard III. is highly -
tinged by parly 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 iraportance, not only from
the circumstance of Sir Thomas haviug 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 frora 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 raore 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 RICHARD 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 IUe, 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, AViUiam Slaughter, or
' ' Black AA'ill, " 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 Avhich 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 Avitnessed 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 rae 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 Eichard III. p. 130.

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 211
P. Edward. He went rn 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. Bichard. Oh, lord ! methinks this going to our bed.
How like it is going to our grave.
P. Edward, i 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 StUl should think we went unto our grave ?
* Sir T. More, Hist, of Eichard III. p. 130.

212 KING EICHAED THE THIED.
P. Edvjard. 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 Avas 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 AAith written
orders to the constable to put the tAvo princes to
death; the which John Green, Ave 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 AA'arAdck, where he was
subsequently rejoined by his emissary Green.* The
* Sir T. More, Hist, of Eichard III. pp. 127-8. There seems to be
no difficulty in fixing the date of Green's raission as the beginning of
August. The king reached Eeading shortly after the 23rd of July ;
made a short stay at Oxford ; proceeded from thence to t^loucester, and
eventually reached Tewkesbury on the 4th of August. Before the Sth
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 EICHAED 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 AA'arwick, he was unable to con
ceal the perturbation of his mind from the favourite
page Avho 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 hira,'' &c. — Royal Household
Ordinances, p. 36. Again, in the reign of Henry VIL : " The esquires
ofthe 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 Avith
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
farailiar 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 paUet in the
outer chamber, who at all hazards Avould execute
his grace's pleasure. The individual to AA'hom 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, Avas 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 oAvn
share ; and, accordingly, jealousy of the success of
others, as well as an innate craving for Avealth and
distinction, predisposed him to become a ready tool
in the hands of his sovereign.* AA'ell pleased with
his attendant's suggestion, Richard forthwith pro
ceeded to the outer apartment, where lay Sir James
and his brother Sir Thomas. "AA'hat, 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 Avithout the slightest
hesitation. Accordingly, on the foUoAving day
Tyrrell set out for London, carrying Avith him a
written order from the king to Sir Robert Braken-
* SirT. More's Eichard III. pp. 128-9.

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 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, TymeU had con
trived to secure the services of two ferocious adepts
in villany, one John Dighton, his OAvn horsekeeper,
a ' ' big, broad, square, and strong knave, ' ' and one
Miles Forrest, a ' ' fellow beforetime 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, —
' ' AVhy do you not kill me ? " said the child : ' ' kill
me, and let him live !"t The appeal was made in
vain. In an instant, the innocent heirs of the
proudest house which ever held sway in England
were Avrapped and entangled in the bedclothes.
* Sir T. More's Eichard III. pp. 129-30.
t Chroniques de Molinet, ut supra, p. 402.

216 KING EICHAED THE TIIIED.
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 stifled 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 himseU that the Avork of death Avas 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 sumraer beauty, kissed each other.
* Sir T. More's Eichard HI. pp. 130-1.
t Frora the stateraent of Sir Thomas More, as well as from a compari
son of dates, the crirae would seera to have been committed about the
middle of August. Eous (Hist. Eeg. Ang. p. 215) intiraates tbat it took
place somewhat more than three months afler Eichard had waited on
the young king at Stony Stratford (viz. the SOth of April), and Molinet
at five weeks frora the time that the j'oung princes were treated as
prisoners. Chroniques, p. 402. The dales, therefore, assigned by these
three writers, very nearly tigreo.

KING RICHARD THE THIRD. 217
A book of prayers on their pillow lay ;
Which once,' quoth Forrest, ' alraost changed my mind ;
But, O, the devil ! ' — there the villain stopped ;
When Dighton thus told on : ' We sraothered
The most replenished sweet work of nature.
That, frora the prirae creation, e'er she fraraed.'
Hence both are gone with conscience and reraorse
They could not speak ; and so I left thera 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 Eichard III. p. 131.
t Ibid. p. 132.

218 KING RICHARD THE THIRD.
the stairs which led from the royal lodgings to the
chapel of the White Tower,'''' * there Avere discov
ered, about ten feet in the ground, on the south
side of the AA'hite Tower, the remains of Iavo human
beings, corresponding in sex and age Adth what
might be presumed to be those of the murdered
princes. t Either, then, the king's orders were for
some reason disobeyed, and consequently the spot
in which the remains Avere found Avas the original
' ' stair-foot ' ' in which Dighton and Forrest depos
ited them ; or else, which is more probable, the
persons, who Avere intrusted Avith 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 A\ith-
out its significance. Tradition, as Ave have aUeady
mentioned, points out the Bloody Tower as having
witnessed the death-scene of the innocent princes.
* Wren's Parentalia, p. 283.
t Sandford's Geneal. Plist. book v. pp. 427-9. Sandford received his
account of the disinterraent 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 warr.int frora 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, hoAvever, 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
raurdered. 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 TIIE 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, Avere 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 AA'estminster.

CHAPTER VI.
THE GOOD DEEDS AND THE REMORSE OF RICHARD
OF GLOUCESTEE.
"jV/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

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 AA'illiam Stanley, the
wealthiest subject in England and connected by
marriage with Henry VIL, 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 AA'arbeck Avith aU
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 oAvn 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 THIED. 223
But curious as these arguments undoubtedly are,
they may be met by others equally weighty. If
Charles of France acknowledged AA'arbeck 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 seeras 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 tirae 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 conflrm the supposition that
James, at one period at least, believed Warbeck to be the genuine Duke
of York. " Eex errore deceptus, ut plerique alii, etiam prudentissimi."
—B. Andreas, Vita Hen. VII p. 70.
t 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 hirn 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.

224 KING EICHAED THE THIED.
bert Simnel in Christchurch Cathedral, Dublin,
with a diadem taken from an image of the A'irgin,
were doubtless predisposed to hail with enthusiasm
a far more plausible and fascinating pretender.
Again, the fact of the Duchess of Burgundy haAdng
acknowledged AA'arbeck as her nephcAv, 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
emment of Henry VII. The duchess, as Ave find
Henry himself complaining in a letter to Sir GUbert
Talbot, had formerly shown her malice ' ' by sending
hither one feigned boy, ' ' and noAv, ' ' eftsoons, ' '
she must needs send over ' ' another feigned lad,
called Perkin Warbeck. "¦}-
AA'arbeck, 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 Avell-organized faction in England called into
political existence, for the purpose of crippUng and,
if possible, uprooting the Tudor dj'nasty. The
individual, in aa'Iioiu their hopes and fears Avere
really centred, and Avhom they would AvilUngiy
have placed on the throne in lieu of Henry, appears
to have been the Earl of AA'arwick, avIio, after the
death of his uncle. King Richard, had become the
*Lord Bacon's Henry VII. in Kennet, vol. i. pp. .'i8.'i-6.
t Ellis's Orig. Letters, Fii-st Series, vol. i. pp. 19, 20.

KING EICHARD THE THIRD. 225
last male heir of the great house of Plantagenet.*
If the pretensions of AA'arwick had formei'ly been
regarded in so formidable a light, both by EdAvard
IV. and Richard IIL, 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 Avho owed his crown
neither to blood nor to election, but to the hateful
pretext of conquest, and to a marriage which he
had offensively 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 stiU 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 AA'oodvilles 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 VIL 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 AA'arwick could boast an irreproachable
descent in the male line, from a long and illus
trious race of kings. In him Avere centred the
pure blood of the Plantagenets, the Beauchamps,
and the Nevilles. But AA^'arAA'ick was unhappily a
prisoner in the hands of Henry, and, consequently,
any public declaration of his rights, or any insur
rection in his favour, Avould doubtless have been the
signal for sending him to the scaffold. AA'ith the
double object, then, of harassing the govemment
of Henry, and, at the same time, screening War
wick, were called into political existence, such con
venient scapegoats as Lambert Simnel, Perkin
AA'arbeck, and Ralph AA'iUord. Should they faU,
their miscarriage would in no Avay have jeopardized
the life of AA'arAvick, whereas, had any one of them
succeeded in his enterprise, it Avould 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 AA'arbeck personallj', many arguments
might be adduced tending to the conviction that
he was an impostor. No evidence of his having
been the son of Edward IA' Avas ever produced by
* "This at least is certain,'' writes Lingard, "that as long as War
wick lived, pretenders to the crown laiiidly succeeded each other :
after his execution, Ilcnry was permitled lo reign without molestation.'
— Hist, of Engl. vol. iv. p. 584, .\pp.

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 227
him. Of those persons, who, according to his own
romantic account, either assisted him to escape from
the ToAver, or afterAvards supported him in a foreign
land, not one came forward either to substantiate
his tale, or to claim the roAvard AA'hich they had
earned by having rendered so important a service to
the heir of England. There is reason, moreover,
for believing that AVarbeck 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, — AA'arbeck himself unhesitatingly ad
mitted that he was an impostor, t 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 wilh the age of the individual whom he was
personifying, as to represent hiraself 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 iraportant fact
we are indebted to the valuable researches of Sir Frederick Madden.
See Archaeologia, 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.
t The genuineness of Perkin Warbeck's confession has occasionally
been disputed. The remarkable fact, however, pointed out by Sir Fred
erick Madden in the Archaeologia, on the authority of Bernard Andreas,
that the confession was actually printed at the time, of course by the
authority and license of Henry, proves it to be a state docuraent of the
highest iraportance. " Eex 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 EICHAED THE THIED.
lishing proofs of Warbeck's imposition, furnishes
presumptive evidence either that the English mon
arch had no case at all, or else that it Avas 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 AA'arbeck Avas 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 AA'iUiam
Stanley, to the block for abetting the pretensions of
Warbeck, is it likely that he Avould have shoAvn
greater mercy to Warbeck himself? If he beUeved
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 tAvice 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 alloAved him to
wander about for months AAithin 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 AVarbeck had been the
important personage which he represented himseU
to be, is it possible to believe that so stern and
jealous a monarch as Henry would have suflered

KING EICHAED THE THIRD. 229
him to be so insufficiently guarded, or so carelessly
watched, that the pretender was enabled to slip into
a sanctuary when it suited his purpose?
The real fact appears to have been that, however
threatening at its outset was AVarbeck'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 gargon, 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
* Archaeologia, vol. xxvii. pp. 165, 167.

230 KING EICHAED THE THIED.
government,^ — that the sternest of the Tudors
handed over his rival to the executioner. Then,
indeed, he sent WarAvick to suffer an honourable
death by the axe on Tower Hill, leaving AA'ar
beck to perish on the common gibbet at
Tyburn. But even allowing Perkin AA'arbeck 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, Ave 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 Aindicate the honour of the.
illustrious line of which he claimed to be the repre
sentative. But what was the story Avhich 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 AA'ar
beck, employed an assassin to murder them in the
Tower. But the projected crime was only half
completed. The young king, he said, Avas " criielly
slain ;" but the assassin, either stited Avith blood, or
actuated by some more amiable motive, not only
spared the life of the younger brother, but assisted

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 231
him to escape beyond the sea.* The genuineness
of this I'eputed conversation appears to be borne
out by tAVO very remarkable documents, which
emanated directly from Warbeck himself.
' ' AA'hereas, ' ' says AA'arbeck in his proclamation
to the EngUsh 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
IsabeUa 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 death, and I myself,
then nearly nine years of age, was also delivered to
a certain lord to be kiUed : [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 Life of Henry VII. in Kennet, vol. i. p. 614 ; Hall,
p. 473 ; Archspologia, vol. xxvii. p. 154.
t 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.
X Archaeologia, vol. xxvii. p. 156.

232 KING EICHAED THE THIED.
crime was not the less heinous because by accident
it was only partially completed.
The remaining arguments, Avhich 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 ready innocent,
what was the actual fate of the tAvo 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 U
required ; or, at all events, satisfactorily to account
for tlieir disappearance from the eye of man and
from the light of heaven. No living being, except
by his express injunctions, would have dared to lUt
a finger against them. No living being, apparently,
had any interest in destroying them but himseU.
Moreover, the tongues of men, not only at home,
but at foreign courts, charged him Avitli the crime
of murder, yet he took no steps to prove his inno
cence. Had his nepheAvs died a natural death,
surely he would have been only too eager to dem
onstrate so important a fact to the AA'orld. Again,
there were periods in his career Avlieu it Avas his in
terest to prove that they Avere still iu the land of the

KING EICHAED 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 Avas 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 Avas enriched by a variety of appointments
and royal grants. John Dighton, one of the actual
assassins, was awarded the bailiffship of Alton, in
Staffordshire; and lastly, the other ruffian. Miles
Forrest, ' ' the fellow fleshed in murder, ' ' was not
only appointed keeper of the wardrobe in 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 RICHARD THE THIED.
of the young Duke of York, unless he intended
to sacrifice him to his ambition? AA'hy did the
sanctuary at AVestminster remain unwatched so
long as the young princes Avere known to be aUve ;
and, why, at the very time Avhen it was publicly
rumoured that the young princes AA'ere 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 Avith the Earl of Richmond,
might have proved fatal to Richard's power; and
consequently that it Avas of the utmost importance
to him to secure her person, or, at all events, to
prevent her fiight.
Moreover, unlike the majority of the fearful
crimes which have been attributed to Richard IIL,
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 Avriters record how
general Avas the suspicion that they had met Adth
an untimely end, but, as Ave have already seen,
dangerous conspiracies Avere the consequence. ' ' A
rumour AA-as spread," .says the Croyland Chronicle,
" that the sons of King Edward before named had
died a violent death, but it Avas uncertain hoAv."t
According to another contemporary, Rous, "it
*See ante, p. 203. f Croyl. Chron. Cont. p. 491.

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 235
was afterwards known to very few by what death
they suffered martyrdom."* Philip de Commines
informs us, that so convinced Avas 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, "t Fabyan, who flourished
as an alderman of London Avhen London aldermen
Avere 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. "i 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. I It may be argued and objected that these
* Hist. Angl. Eeg. p. 214. f De Commines, tome ii. pp. 243-4.
X Fabyan's Chronicles, p. 670. | Polydore Virgil, lib. xxv. p. 694.
II " Clam ferro feriri jussit." — Vita Hem: Sept. p. -24.

236 KING EICHAED THE THIED.
two writers were courtiers, and that Polydore
Virgil wrote his history expressly at the desire of
Henry VIL , 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 faciUty 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 Avork AA'hich Avas likely to perpetu
ate her brothers' melancholy story. H 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 A^irgU 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, U false, could
scarcely fail to be most offensive to her? Is it
likely that the Duke of Buckingham, and the other
noble persons aaIio Avere associated Adth bim in re
bellion, would have risked their Uves and estates
in the cause of the Princess Elizabeth, imless 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
Elizabetii had become the true and indubitable
heiress to the throne, is it likely that so astute a

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 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 EICHAED THE THIED.
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 EdAvard, 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 Ave 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 duiing the time that the bishop
was residing under Buckingham's hospitable roof
at Brecknock, that he contrived, by his arguments
and persuasions, to Avean his powerful host from
his allegiance to King Richard. No sooner Avas
Buckingham preA'ailed 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 AA^oodvilles, rendered it improb-
*Sir T. More's Eichai-d III. p. 140.

KING EICHARD 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, ' AA^oe to that
kingdom Avhere chUdren rule and women govern ! ' "*
The conspirators, therefore, turned their attention
to Henry Earl of Richmond, who, 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 KIN(; 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 AA'as of a
good Norman family, Avhich had long attached
itself to the house of Lancaster. His father had
been of the privy coimcil to Henry AI. ; he himself
had been fonnerly 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 Avas 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
fortliAvith 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 aU
parties. Sir Giles Daulieuy, afterAvards Lord Dau
beny, Sir John Cheney, Sir Richard GuUdford, and
other persons of influence, Avere induced to join the
conspiracy against Richard. f The queen-dowager
eagerly agreed to the proposals Avhich Avere made to
her; while the Countess of Richmond naturaUy
embraced Avith enthusiasm a project Avhich promised
*Gr.afton'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 Avas 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 clay 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 RICHARD THE THIRD.
Elizabeth, proclaimed the earl at Exeter ; her uncle,
the Bishop of Salisbury, declared for him in AA^ilt-
shire ; the gentlemen of Kent assembled, Adth their
retainers, to proclaim him at ]\laidstone ; and the
gentlemen of Berkshire met for a simUar 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 Avas 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 Avas impeded by rains so heavy
and incessant, that no living man remembered so
terrible an inundation. The Severn and other riv
ers Avere rendered impassable ; men, Avomen, and '
children were drowned in their beds ; cradles, with
infants in them, Avere seen floating in the valleys.
For a century afterwards it was spoken of as the
Great AA^ater, and sometimes as Buckingham's
Great AVater.* Thus AAas the duke prevented from
keeping his appointment Avith his friends. His
AA'elsh 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 his 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,
Avho forthAvith 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 Avas off
his shoulders, Richard commenced a hurried march
to the west 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 RICHARD THE THIED.
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 EdAvard Courtenay, and other persons
of rank and infiuenee, 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 anny,
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 parUament, which
accordingly assembled at Westminster on the 23rd
of January. Overawed, probably, by his masterly
poUcy, and by his recent signal success, the two
houses anticipated his wishes Avith 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 EICHAED THE THIED. 245
summer, he had been invited to Avear 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
inthe 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 hira, 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, forasrauch 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 reraoval therefore of such doubts and arabiguities, it
was enacted by " the said three estates assembled in this present parlia
ment," that all things affirmed and specified inthe 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." — Rot.
Pari. vol. vi. p. 240.

246 KING EICHAED THE THIED.
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 tumed his thoughts
towards the gloomy sanctuary at AA'estminster, in
which, for nearly twelve months, the AvidoAv 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 Avhat pressure of cir
cumstances, Elizabeth was at length induced to
surrender herself and her daughters into the hands
of her arch-enemy, avUI probably never be ascer
tained. Fortunately there is extant the copy of
the oath, by which, on the Avord of a king, anil by
the Holy Evangelists, Richard solemnly SAvore, that,
on condition of their quitting the sanctuary, he
would not only secure to them their Uves and lib
erty, but would provide for their future mainten
ance. The document is a very curious and inter-

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 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
EUzabeth 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 AVestminster, 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 jjersons, 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 them as their
wives and his kinswomen, as they would avoid and
eschew his displeasure." To Dame Elizabeth Grey

248 KING EICHARD THE THIRD.
he promises to pay annually 700 marks (266Z. 135.
4d.), forthe term of her natural life; and, lastly,
he swears to discredit any reports that may be
spread to their disadvantage, till they shaU have
had opportunities for "their lawful defence and
answer."* The date of this remarkable document
being the 1st of March 1484, the probabUity 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 iU-
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 Avas more than sus
pected of having committed, they had, onthe other
hand, every reason to be grateful to him for hav
ing arrested the horrors of civil Avar, 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 piince ; a prince
sensitively jealous of the honour of the English
nation, and an anxious Avell-Avisher for its prosper
ity. They beheld in him a piince, avIio sought to
win their suffrages and their affections ; not by the
* Ellis's Orig. Lettere, Second Series, vol. i. p. 149.

KING RICHARD THE THIRD. 249
low arts Avith 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, Adth five hundred marks a year. He en
couraged the newly-discovered art of printing, and,
in order to extend leaming in the Universities,
caused an act to be passed, which was afterwards
repealed by Henry VIIL, 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 EngUshmen, and enjoyed
those tastes which throw a grace over human
* Wood's Hist, of Oxford, by Gutch, vol. i. pp. 639-40; Eous, p.
216 ; Sandf. Gen. Hist, book v. p. 434.

250 KING EICHAED 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 warrior 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 weU as by
the annuities which he settled on musicians bom on
English soil.*
That Richard's nature was originally a compas
sionate one, there seems to be every reason for
beUeving. 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 Addow an annuity of tAvo 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.
X 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
Climes 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 Ave 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
scaflold, or were in exile. Their attainder had en-
* MSS. quoted in S. Turner's Middle Ages, vol. iv. p. 24.

252 KING EICHAED THE THIED.
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 Avith 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 Ufe Avas ' ' spent in
much pain and trouble outward ; in much fear,
anguish, and sorrow within ; for 1 have heard, by
credible report, of such as Avere secret with his
chamberers, that, after this abominable deed done,
he never had quiet in his mind ; he never thought
himself sure. AA'hen he Avent abroad, his eyes
whirled about ; his body Avas privily fenced ; his
hand ever on his dagger ; his countenance and man
ner like one ahvays ready to strike again. He took
ill rest at night, lay long Avaking 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.
t M(5raoires de Coraraines, tome ii. p. 158.

KING EICHAED THE THIRD. 253
and run about the chamber. So Avas 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 will
not be long;" and accordingly he hastily quitted
Exeter, and retumed to London. •}¦
Other pecuUarities, 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 TIIIED.
building and repair of churches, afford sufficient
evidence to the contrary. Among other devo
tional acts, he subscrilied liberal sums to the monks
of Cowsham, and to the parish of Skipton, forthe
repair of their several churches.* He rebuilt
the chapel of the Holy Virgin, in the church of
AUhallows, Barking, near the Tower of London,
and founded there a coUege 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.:}:
He converted the rectory church of Middleham into
a college ;§ and founded, within Barnard Castle
in the county of Durham, a coUege consisting of a
dean, twelve secular priests, ten chaplains, and six
choristers.! 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 HaU,
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.
t Stow's Survey of London, book ii. p. 32 ; Eossi Hist. Reg. Ang.
p. 216.
J Drake's Eboracum, p. III.
^ Eossi Hist. Eeg. Ang. p. 215.
II Surtees' Hist, of Durham, vol. iv. p. 67.
fiiist. of Cambridge, vol. i. p. 197. .Vckerman, London, 1815.
** Dyer's Hist, of the Uuiveraity of Cambridge, vol. ii. p. 39.

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 255
feited 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 ofhis soul, which is not without its significance.
For instance, on the 16th of December 1483, we
find him granting an annuity of lOZ. 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 9tli
and IOth of the same month, we find the king a
* Fuller's Hist, of the University of Cambridge, pp. 122, 123.
t Eymer's Fcedera, vol. xii. p. 215.

256 KING RICHARD 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 renoAvned prince, and
his dearest consort Anne."*
One or two other instances may be cursorily
mentioned. At Sheriff-Hutton, Avhere 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 Ave find him issuing an order for
the annual payment of ten marks to a chaplain,
whose duty it Avas " 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 IA'."§
And lastly, apparently about the same time, he
founded a college at York for the support of one
* Dyer's Privileges of the Univei-sity of Carabridge, vol. i. p. 41.
t Harl. MSS. quoted in S. Turner's Middle .Aces, vol. iv. p. 10.
X Ibid.
I Ibid. Whitaker's Eichmond, vol. i. p. 99.

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 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. AVe must recollect that the usurper
lived in an age in which men hesitated not to
commit evU, 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
obUgations 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 IIL, 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 oaati.
But the days were fast approaching when real
* Eossi Hist. Eeg. Ang. p. 215.

258 KING EICHAED THE THIED.
misfortunes, in addition to the compunctions of
conscience, were destined to bow the usurper to the
earth. AA^e have already recorded how tenderly
and entirely his ambitious hopes, as weU as his
parental feelings, were centred in his only legiti
mate child, the young Prince of AA'ales. AA'e have
already stated, that to transmit the croAA-n of Eng
land to his child and to his child's posterity, was
apparently the mainspring of aU his actions, the
occasion of all his crimes. AA^e 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 Avhom hopes
so high were centred, and Avho 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 Avhich hurried him to the grave. The
chronicler Rous tells us that "he died an unhappy
death."* He Avas 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 NeviUe, which had witnessed his bridal
happiness, and under the roof of which his beloved
chUd first saw the light. At the time Avhen 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 inhis last moments.
Their grief at his loss is desciibed 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."— Ifisi. Angl. Reg. p. 217.
t Croyl. Chron. Cont. p. 497.
X Hutton's Bosworth, p. 40.

260 KING RICHARD 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 oavu, 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, '¦'-whom Ood par don.""*
The remainder of the year passed away Adthout
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 Avith 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, Avearing
a croAvn on his head.-j- On these occasions, the
presence of the Princess EUzabeth, now a beautiful
girl verging on her nineteenth year, appears to
have attracted extraordinary attention. It Avas 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 Eichard III. vol. i. p.
325 ; Buck in Kennet, vol. i. p. 525, note.
t Croyl. Chron. Cont. p. 498.

KING RICHARD 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 aword, 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 ; Eous,
Hist. Eeg. Ang. p. 215 ; Memoires de Coraraines, torae ii. p. 160.

262 KING EICHAED THE THIED.
A few days after Christmas, while the world was
still discussing this delicate topic, it AA'as 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
tAventy-eight.* Her husband honoured her l)y a
magnificent funeral in the neighbouring abbey, and
is said to have been so affected as to shed tears. +
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, AA'hich 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 knoAvn, she
was the sharer of his anxious and solitary hours ;
while history proves that, so far from his haA'ing
neglected her, she constantly sat Avith him at the
banquet, or Avalked side In' side Avitli 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. Eous EoU. Art. 62, Duke
of Manchester's copy.
t Baker's Chronicle, p. 232.

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 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 Avould 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 THIED.
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
wheu 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, inight prove fatal to his popularity.
It seems to have been during the queen's last iU
ness, and probably after the physicians had ex
pressed their opinion that her case Avas a hopeless
one, that Richard first confided to his fiiends 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 "itAvas enter
tained and well-liked by the king and his fiiends
a good while. ^''-\ Ithas been argued, indeed, that
it was directly opposed to Richard's interests to
marry Elizabeth ; since by so doing he Avould have
shown himself capable of inconsistency so great,
and of a change of tactics so fiagrant, as to have en-
* Croyl. Cont. p. 499 ; Grafton's Chronicle, vol. ii. p. 144 ; Poly
dore Virgil, lib. xxv. p. 707.
t Buck in Kennet, vol. i. p. 567.

KING EICHAED THE TIIIED. 265
dangered his political existence. His only 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.
t Eichard subsequently altered the succession in favour of another
nephew, .lohn 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 VIL, and fell, in the lifetime of
his father, at the battle of Stoke, 16th of June 1487.

266 KING EICHAED THE THIED.
and tacitly acknowledged the superior claims of
his nephew to the sovereign power. Moreover,
there occur to us more than one Aveighty 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 Avhose union
with her, should it take place, must necessarUy
combine against Richard the two houses of York
and Lancaster. AA'hat could be more natural, then,
than that Richard, by marrying Elizabeth himself,
should have sought to Avrest from Henry the only
weapon which rendered him formidable ? The parti
sans ofthe house of York might at any time rise in
revolt to raise Elizabetii to the throne. But let
Elizabeth once ascend the throne of England as the
consort of Richard, and the croAAU he secured to her
children, and the motives for rebelUon would cease
to exist, the peril Avhich threatened him be at an
end. So convinced does Heury appear to have been
that it was Richard's intention to marry his niece,
and that their union Avas inevitable, that Ave find
him seeking in marriage the Lady Catherine Her
bert, daughter of the late AA'illiam Earl of Pem
broke. Surely he must have been fully satisfied
* Croyl. Chron. Cont. p. 499.

KING EICHARD 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 soselemnly pledged, nor have ceased to prose
cute an alliance by meams of which he had fondly
hoped to raise himself to a throne.*
Historians, hostile to the memory and character
of Richard IIL, 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 Eichard paid his addresses to his niece is not denied by
Lord Orford, though he is of opinion thaf it was not with any in-
' tention to make her his wife. " I should suppose," writes the noble
historian, " that Eichard, leaming the projected marriage of Elizabeth
and the Earl of Richmond, amused the young princess with the hopes
of raaking her his queen. " — Historic Doubts, Lord Orford's Works,
vol. ii. p. 151.

268 KING RICHARD TIIE THIRD.
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 AA'il-
Uam 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
every 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 authoiity. They even went so
far, we are told, as to produce before him certaiu
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 raarried to his brother Don Aide Mendoza ; and
raore 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 Kennet, vol. i. p. 568.
t 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 Avith his niece would unquestionably
endue them Avith 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 AA'arwick, and who 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,
ClerkenweU, in the presence of the lord-mayor 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.

270 KING RICHARD THE THIRD.
contemplation.* At the same time he addressed a
letter to the citizens of York, in AA'hich he not only
exhorted them to give no credit to the ' ' false and
abominable language and lies ' ' Avhich were pre
sumptuously circulated to his disadvantage, but
enjoined them to bring to condign punishment the
' ' authors and makers ' ' of such unwarrantable
slanders, t
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 AA'oodviUes in
awe at the time of his usurpation.:}: It was on his
* Croyl. Chron. Cont. p. 500.
t Drake's Ebor. p. 119.
X " 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. 510. According to
Sir Thomas More, these northern levies presented but a sorry appear
ance : " To be sure of his eneraies, he sent for 5000 men out of the
north, who carae 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.'' — &> 7'. Morc in Kennet,
vol. i. p. 500. AVhen Eichard subsequently visited York, in the month
of September 1483, we find him hanging some of the.se 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 EICHAED THE THIED. 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 Ave 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, t
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 AA'estminster Adth
' ' 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 KIXG RICHARD THE THIRD.
dom, he is said to have looked forward with posi
tive satisfaction to the day which Avas 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, Avith the exception of three brief
residences at AVindsor, Ave find him continuing to
hold his court at AA'^estminster till the month of
May. In the mean time he energeticaUy 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 toAvn in England
or AA'ales rose in insurrection. To prevent the
Princess Elizabeth faUing into the hands of his ene
mies, he sent her to Sheriff-Hutton, a ' ' stately man
sion ' ' of his oAvn in Yorkshire, Avhere his northem
friends were all-powerful, and where her cousin,
the young Earl of AA^arwick, was already detained
in safe though honourable durance. An oak, caUed
the "AA'arwick oak," AA-as formerly, aud perhaps
may still be, pointed out in the park, as the bound
ary tree which limited the Avalks of the heir of
the ill-fated Clarence during his imprisonment
at Sheriff-Hutton. AVhen, subsequently, the
two cousins Avere conducted from their prison-
house, very different Avas 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 aimed
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 faraous 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 2Ist 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 !
t Croyl. Chron. Cont. p. 500.

274 KING EICHAED THE THIED.
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 Avere stationed
at distances of twenty mUes 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, t
Richard had recourse also to the pen as weU as
to the sword. In a proclamation, dated AA'est
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 aud his mother's side, and
possessing no title Avhatever to the royal dignity.
The Earl is further charged Avith having entered
into a covenant AA'ith the French king to give up, on
the part of England, all title and idaim to the crown
and realm of France, together Avith the duchies of
Normandy, Anjou, and Maine ; to surrender Gas-
* Croyl. Chron. Cont. p. 501. -f- Ibid. p. 497.

KING EICHAED THE TIIIED. 275
cony, Guienne, and Calais, and to remove for ever
the arms of France from those of England. ' And, ' '
the p?:"oclamation 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,
esquUes, 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 purpose 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, infonnation 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 KING EICHAED THE THIED.
the mouth of the Seine. On the 6th of August
they reached Milford Haven. ' ' On hearing of their
arrival," says the Croyland chronicler, "the king
rejoiced, or at least seemed to rejoice ; Avriting 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 aU events, U 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 RICHARD OF
GLOUCESTER.
r\N 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 magnifl
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 fleld
of Bosworth. Here he pitched his camp upon some
* Hutton's Bosworth, Nichols' ed. p. 82.
277

278 KING RICHARD THE THIRD.
ground called the Bradshaws, and here he remained
during the Iavo 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 soU.* The
same evening, Richard pushed forAvard his army to
a spot called Ambeame, or Anbein HiU, 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 AVilliam Stanley, took up independent
and menacing positions. On the south, ' ' mydde-
way betwixt the two battaylles,"t 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 ]\Iargaret Countess of Rich
mond, was consequently stepfather to the invader.
This, and apparently other circumstances, having
* Hutton's Bosworth, Nichols' ed. p. 68.
t Polydore Virgil, p. 222, Camd. Soc. Trans

KING RICHARD THE THIRD. 279
aroused suspicions of Stanley's fldelity 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 behaA'iour. 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 was Sunday,
however, and a feeUng 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 magniflcent army, there was probably
not one of his subjects whose heart was so comfort
less ; not one who was more entirely alienated from
the sympathies of his feUow-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 foUowed him. Treason was
* Paston Letters, vol. ii. p. 156.

280 KING RICHARD 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 aflections 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, andAvill 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 dealh ; 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. AA'e
learn, from high authority, that of late he had
been an habitually restless sleeper ; ' ' that he took
ill rest a-nights; lay long Avakening and musing,
sore wearied with care and Avatch, rather slumbered
than slept."* He AAas CA'idently constitutionally
nervous and irritable. Fits of abstraction, in Avliich
* Sir T. More's Hist, of Eichard III. p. 134.

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 281
it was his habit to bite his under Up, and to draw
his dagger hurriedly up and down in its scabbard,
were not unfrequent Avith 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 Avhom it was assumed that
he had cruelly murdered, rests on no sounder
foundation than the poetic flights of Drayton and
Shakspeare. The old chroniclers, though they
dweU 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."t
Again, according to the most faithful chronicler of
the period, " As it is generally stated, in the morn-
* Kennet, vol. i. p. 513.
t Grafton, vol. ii. p. 150. "It is reported," writes Polydore Virgil,
" that King Eichard 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 EICHAED TIIE THIED.
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 raore terror to the soul of Eichard,
Than can the substance of ten thousand soldiers,
Armed in proof, and led by shallow Eichmond."
King Richard III. Act. v. Sc. 3.
It was in the grey dawn of the moming that
Richard started from his troubled slumbers.
So early was the hour, that his chaplains were stiU
asleep in their tents. His attendants Avere unpre
pared Avith his breakfast. t Attended by Lord
Lovel, his lord-chamberlain ; by Sir AA'iUiam Cat
esby, his attorney -general ; and by another privy
councillor. Sir Richard RatcUffe, 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 Ihave left him as I
found him.":): The depression ofhis spirits, occa
sioned by the horrors of the precedmg 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 Avonderful vision
* Croyl. Chron. Cont. p. 503. t Ibid. J Hutton's Bosworth, p. 79.

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 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
alann 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 signiflcant 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 gaUant 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.
t 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.
X Grafton, vol. i. p. 154. ,

284 KING EICHAED THE THIED.
than 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 jjarks in AA'eUs."*
There can be no stronger evidence hoAv Avidely
treason had spread among Richard's followers,
than the fact that during the preceding night Sir
Simon Digby had been alloAved to penetrate as a
spy into the heart of his camp, and to retum, 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 Avas in secret com
munication with the Earl of Richmond, was 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 AAishes were with
his stepson ; all his fears Avere Avith his son. A
single imprudent move might have sent the latter
to the block. AA-^hen, therefore, on the morn
ing of the battle of BosAvorth, the king and
the Earl of Richmond severally sent messen
gers to exhort him to join them forthwith, he
returned an equivocal ansAver to each. To the lat
ter he replied that he Avas engaged in putting his
*Hari. MSS. quoted in Turner's Middle Ages, vol. iii. p. 522.

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 285
OAvn 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 fljX an indelible stain

* Buck's Eichard III. in Kennet, vol. i. p. 510 ; Grafton, vol. ii. p.
151. t Polydore Virgil, p. 223, Camd. Soo. Ed.
X Grafton, vol. ii. p. 156.

286 KING EICHAED THE THIED.
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 Adth him
if possible ; whereas the execution of his son would
impel him to make common cause Avith 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.* AVhen, on the inorning 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 main. His military
arrangements were completed Avitli 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,
voh i. p. 512 ; Hall, pp. 412, 420; Holinshed, vol. iii. pp. 431, 435.

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 287
celebrated milk-white charger, he addressed his
chieftains in an animated speech, the purport of
Avhich 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
Aving 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 EICHAED THE THIED.
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 vdnning 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 graijhic. "Lord!" says Grafton,
' ' how hastily the soldiers buckled theU helms !
How quickly the archers bent their bows, and
f rushed their feathers ! How readily the bUhnen
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 I ' " And
anon, after that terrible pause, " the trumpets blew,
and the soldiers shouted, and the king's archers
courageously let fly their arrows. The earPs 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. | Ibid. vol. ii. p. 154.

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 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,
Avhich 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 te fought, his own
position soon became a critical one. A generous
effort to rescue him was made by Sir Richard Clar
endon and Sir William Conyers. Those gaUant
knights, however, were in their turn surrounded by

290 KING EICHAED THE THIED.
Sir John Savage and his retainers, and cut to pieces.
In the mean time, Surrey Avas singly opposed by the
veteran Sir Gilbert Talbot, who would AviUingly
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 Avho approached
him. One last endeavor to capture him was made
by a private soldier. Surrey, however, tuming
furiously on him, collected his remaining strength,
and severed the man's arm from his body.
" Young Howard single with an array fights ;
When, raoved 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,
AVhich made a coraraon soldier grow so bold.
To lay rude hands upon that noble fiower.
Which he disdaining, — anger gives hira power, —
Erects his weapon with a nirable 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 Avould tight for it, though
* Bosworth Field, by Sir John Beaumont, Bart., in AVeever's Funeral
Monuments, p. 554.

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 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 jirobability,
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
throAv 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-

* Hutton'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
9lh 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 liave been so much
affected as to shed tears. The duke died at Framlingham Castle, May
21, 1524.

292 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 tix my crown of
gold on my head; for, by Him that shaped both
sea and land, king of England this day wUl I
die!"t 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 AA'UUam
Stanley might at any moment foUow the example
set him by his brother. One chance only remained
to the undaunted monarch. Descrying Richmond
on a neighbouring eminence, with only a foAv 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 wiU try the
* Polydore Virgil, p. 225, Camd. Soc. Trans. ; Grafton, vol. ii. p. 155.
t Harl. MSS. 642, fol. 34. quoted in Hutton's Bosworth, by Nichols,
p. 217 ; Grafton, vol. ii. p. 155 ; Polydore Mrgil, p. 225.
X Grafton, vol. ii. p. 154; Polydore Virgil, lib. xxv. p. 714.

KING EICHAED THE TIIIED. 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, howoA'er, Francis Vis
count Lovel, AA'alter 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 AA^illiam Catesby, ' ' leamed 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, a^d calling on his
knights to foUow 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 his 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 l)rother AA-arriors. Four of
them were knights of the Garter.* Flinging them
selves into the thickest of tlie battle, ouAvard and
furiously they fought their Avay. At their head, —
"making open passage by dint of sAvord," — rode
the last king who was destined to Avear 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 Uon
ran with spear in rest towards him."t In the
course of that terrible onslaught, more than one
aflecting incident occurred. Sir Robert Braken
bury happened to cross Sir AA'alter Hungerford,
who, only a few hours previously, had deserted the
cause of Richard for that of Henry. The word
traitor escaped the lips of Brakenbui'v, on AA'hich
Hungerford dealt a bloAv at him Avhich shivered his
shield. Stroke after stroke was then exchanged
between them ; but Brakenbuiy had survived the
vigour of youth, and AA'as ill matched against a
younger adversary. At length a bloAv from Huu
gerford's sword crushed the helmet of the veteran
*King Eichard, Lord Ferrers of Chai-tley, Lord Lovel, and Sir
Eichard Eatclifle.
t Grafton, p. 154.

KING EICHAED THE THIED. 295
knight, and exposed his silvery hairs to the light.
"Spare his life, braA'e 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, fiiend 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. ClUton 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 whoever 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 faU. Deeply aflected 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 was 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 engageni<-nt, and then ex
pired.* The interesting fact that, after the lapse
of nearly four centuries, the descendants of SU
Gervoise Clifton still enjoy the lands i^ossessed
by their ancestor, attest that the injunctions of
the djing hero were not disregarded by his
friend. In the mean time. King Richard and the sur
vivors of his Avairior 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 Avay to the standard of his
adversary. Richmond Avas uoav almost within his
grasp. AA^ith one stroke he slew Sir AA'UUam
Brandon, who Avas Avaving the banner over the head
of his master, and, seizing it from the grasp of the
falling warrior, fiung it contemptuously on the
ground. The inoment Avas unquestionably a critical one
for Richmond. His foUoAvers are said to have been
* Hutton'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
AA'illiam Stanley, following the example of his
brother, came to Richmond's assistance with
"three thousand tall men."t "He came time
enough," afterAvards observed Henry, " to save my
IUe; but he stayed long enough to endanger it.":}:
The object of Sir AVilliam 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 fora
moment deserted him. When Catesby urged him
to fiy, 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 Avave the
royal banner over the head of his sovereign to the
last. Resolved to sell his IUe as dearly as possible,
the warrior king stiU stood at bay, ' ' manfully

* Grafton, vol ii. p. 154.
t Ibid.
X Lord Bacon's Henry VII. in Kennet, vol. i. p. 611.
§ Rous's Hist. Eeg. Ang. p. 218.

298 KING EICHAED THE THIED.
fighting in the middle of his enemies,"* till, covered
with wounds and exhausted V)y loss of blood and
fatigue, he either staggered or Avas 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 Avas pierced Avith numerous
deadly wounds, and fell in the field like a brave
and most A'aliant 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 iUght.:):
The first act of the Earl of Richmond, on find
ing himself master of the field, Avas to faU upon his
knees and retum thanks to the Almighty for the
great victory AA'hich 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.
t Croyland Chron. Cont. p. 304.
X " The blood of the slain tinged the liltie 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 il. Possessed with this opinion, they refuse to drink
it." — Hutton's Bosworth, p. 127. According to Hutton's calculation.
King Eichard lost no more thau nine hundred men at the battle of
Bosworth, and Eichmond only one hundred. This estiraate 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, 165.
5 Grafton, vol. ii. p. 155 ; Polydore Virgil, lib. xxv. p. 715.

KING EICHARD THE THIRD. 299
Pembroke and Oxford to a neighboring eminence,
on which the Te Deum AA'as 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 VIL*
At each end and side of the njagnificent tomb of
Henry VII. in Westminster Abbey, may be seen the
device of a crown in a haAvthorn bush, an interest -
* Hutton's Bosworth, pp. 132, 133 ; Grafton, vol. ii. p. 155 ; Polydore
Virgil, lib. xxv. p. 715.

300 KING RICHARD THE THIRD.
ing memento of his military coronation on the field
of Bosworth. 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-tAvo.
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 liA'ing. "It was shoAvn by divers
persons, ' ' proceeds the register, ' ' especiaUy 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 tumed 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 " avo-
f uU season, ' ' to apply to the Earl of Northumber
land for advice. •}•
* 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. Slany of his followera.

KING RICHARD THE THIED. 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-arms, "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 fortifled gates of Leicester, so that ' ' every man
might see and look upon him." Eventually his
remains met Adth decent, if not honourable sepul
ture. His body, w^e 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." — Orafton, vol. ii. p. 154.
* Croyl. Chron. Cont. p. 504 ; Grrfton, vol. ii. p. 156 ; Fabyan, p.
673; Hutton, pp. 141, 142.

302 KING EICHARD 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 VIL, 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
* Hutton, p. 142.
t The following lines were engraved on Eichard's tomb : —
" Hie ego, quem vario tellus sub marraore claudil,
Tertius a multa voce Eicardus eram ;
Nam patria; tutor, patruus pro jure nepotis,
Dirupta tenui Eegna Britanna fide ;
Sexaginta dies, binis duntaxat aderaptis,
jEstatesque tuli non mea sceptra duas.
Fortiter in bello, merito desertus ab Anglis,
Eex Henrice, tibi, septime, succubul :
At sumptu, pius ipse, tuo, sic ossa decoras,
Eegem olimque facis Eegis honore coli.
Quatuor exceptis jara tantum, quinque bis annis
Acta tricenta quidem, lustra salutis erant,
Anteque Septembris unden.l luce kalendas,
Eeddideram rubrfe debita jura ros£e.
.Vt mea, quisquis eris, propter commissa precare
Sit minor ut precibus poena fienda tuis."
Frora a MS. in the College of Arms. Sandford, Gen. Hist, book v. p.
435. Sandford justly remarks that these lines " difler not rauch " from
those inserted by Buck in his " Life and Eeign of Richard III."
Those differences, however, trifling as they at first appear to be, seera
to the author not a little curious, as raanifesting Buck's unscrupulous
partiality for Richard's memory. For instance, in the second line,
juslii is substituted for mulld ; in tho seventh line, ccrtan.'' for merito ;
and in the fourteenth line, jura jxiita for debita jura. See Buck, in
Kennet, vol. i. p. 577.

KIXG RICHARD TIIE THIRD. 303
in the reign of Henry AIII. occasioned the demo
lition of St. Mary's Church and the defacement of
its most interesting memorial. AA^hen, in the reign
of James I., the spot was visited by Dr. Christo
pher AA'ren, afterwards Dean of Windsor, the
ancient tomb had ceased to exist. The ground on
which the monastery of Grey Friars hacl 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. AA'ren, "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 clays of Charles I., his grave, "over-
groAvn with nettles and weeds," was not to be
traced, t
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. X Nichols, vol. ii. p. 298.

304 KING KK'HARD THK IIIIUI).
ago, a stone coffin, said to have l>een that of King
Richard, was used as a diinking-trough for horses
at the AA'hite Horse Inn at Leicester.* But eA'en
this apocryjihal memorial of the usurper no longer
exists. AAdien, in 1722, it AA'as seen by the Rev.
Samuel Carte, the father of the historian, — although
there Avas still disceinible ' ' 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 BosAvorth. 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.
t " 1 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 nol 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 1., and some of tho pieces placed as
steps in a cellar, in the same inn where il had served as a trough." —
Hutton's Bosworth, p. 143. AA'ith 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 si\ircely 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
ihat monarch.

KING EICHAED THE THIRD. 305
of King Richard it Avas styled, in compliment to
him, the "AA'hite Boar." To have retained the
name, hoAvever, 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" Avas
substituted forthe '-AA'hite." This name theold
hostelry retained so late as the year 1836, when,
notwithstanding it Avas uninjured by the lapse of
ages, and imaltered by the hand of man, it Avas
sacrilegiously razed to the ground. "Blue Boar
Lane" still denotes the site from which Richard
III. marched to his death upon BosAvorth Field.
Another, and no less interesting relic, — the camp-
bedstead Avhich 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 Avood, two of which are carved
AAith designs representing apparently the Holy
Sepulchre. For nearly Iavo centuries after the bat
tle of Bosworth, the old bedstead was allowed to
remain, an object of interest and curiosity, at the
old hostelry. AA'hen Hutton,^ however, visited
Leicester in 1758, it had come into the possession
* " The proud bragging Avhite boar, which was his badge, was vio
lently razed and plucked down from every sign and place where it
might be espied." — Graft-on, vol. ii. p. 166.

306 • KING EICHARD THE THIRD.
of Alderman Drake, of that city, from Avhom 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 AA'ith fieurs-
de-lis, a favourite emblem of the house of Planta
genet, seems to afford almost incontestable cA'idence
of the authenticity of this remarkable relic*
King Richard HI. 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 Edward IV., he hadbeen a watch-
r * See Hutton's Bosworth, p. 48 ; Halsted's Richard III. vol. ii. pp.
491 — 494; Notes and Queries, vol. iv. pp. 102, 153, 1.54, 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 lo 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 ofthe name of Clark happened to bethe 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 frora il on the floor. The probability that raore 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 il — a large amount of gold,
the coinage either of the reign of Richard III. or ofhis predecessors.
Clark carefully kept his good fortune a secret. To the surprise of his
neighbours, he suddenly becarae transformed from a poor to a rich raan,
and eventually rose to be mayor of Leicester. After the deaUi of
C!lark, his widow became possessed of what remained of the royal treas-

KING RICHARD THE THIED. 307
ful 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. •}• The fate of a
youth Avhose 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 forraer, 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 penally 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 Eoger Twysden, writing in 1653, inforras 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 conteraporaneously 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 Fcedera, vol. xii. p. 265.

308 KING RICHARD THE THIRD.
living in obscurity, or that he obtained military
service in a foreign land.
Richard's only daughter, "Dame Katherine
Plantagenet," Avas married, apparently almost in
childhood, to AYilliam Herl)eit, Earl of Hunting
don. In the deed of settlement, AA'hich still exists,
the king guarantees to defray the expenses of their
nuptials, and to endow her Avith 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 2i)0l.
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 Avhether 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 AA'hose chequered
fortunes some romantic particulars have been re
corded. About the latter part of the reign of
Henry VIIL, AA'hen Sir Thomas Moyle, the maternal
ancestor of the Earls of AA'inchilsea , AA'as erecting
his noble mansion, EastAvell Place, in Kent, his
curiosity AA'as e.xcited by observing the recluse
and studious habits of the principal stonemason
* Sandford, (ion. Hist, book v. p. 43.5.

KING RICHARD THE THIRD. 309
employed on the Avorks. 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 — drcAv a book
from his pocket, and retired to peruse it in private.
One of his peculiarities Avas a disinclination to
disclose the nature of his studies. AA^'henever 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 Avhich he Avas reading was
in Latin. Some remarks, which Sir Thomas ven
tured to make, induced the old man to ojjen his
heart, and to narrate to him the story of his life.
He had received, he said, much kindness from Sir
Tliomas, and would therefore reveal to him a secret
which he hacl 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 was 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 Avelfare, and regularly defrayed the
expense of his board and instruction, took care to
impress on his mind that no relationship existed
betAveen them. Once only, there seemed to be a

310 KING RICHARD 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. Avhere 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 Adth
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, Avas King Richard. "Then
the forementioned gentleman returned, and car
ried him back to school."
Once more, and for the last time, he Avas visited
by his fiiend, who, furnishing him Avith a horse
and a proper equipment, intimated that he must
take a journey with him into the country. Their
destination was the field of Bosworth, where they
arrived on the eve of the memorable battle. On
reaching the royal camp, the boy Avas conducted to
the tent of King Richard, aa'Iio embraced him and
bade him Avelcome. He then disclosed to him the
startling fact of his being his father, promising, at
the same time, that, in the event of his Avinning the
approaching battle, he Avould openly acknoAvledge
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,
AA'here 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 flne 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 Adth 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 RICHARD THE THIED.
That it was belicAed 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 EastAvell Place
for the old man, in which he comfortably passed the
remainder of his days. Moreover, haviug 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 stiU pointed out by the inhabitants of
Eastwell and of the neighbourhood ; nor Avas it tUl
the middle of the seventeenth century that the cot
tage itself was razed to the ground, in the time of
Thomas third Earl of AA'inchilsea. His son. Earl
Heneage, told Dr. Brett that he would almost as
soon have pulled down EastAvell Place itself.
When, in 1720, Dr. Brett called upoh the Earl at
Eastwell, " I found him," he Aviites, " sitting Adth
the register of the parish of Eastwell lying open
before him. He told me that he had been looking
there to see who of his oavu 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 aU,'
said Lord AA'inchilsea, 'that aa'c can alean of his

KING EICHARD 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 Avhich the lord of EastAvell pointed, ap
pears ^^ snh anno Domini 1550," and runs as
follows : —
"Eychard Plantagenet was buried the xxii day of Decembre.
Anno di supra."
Anciently, when any person of noble family was
interred at EastAvell, it Avas 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 EastAvell 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 Eev. T. Parsons, Eector 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.
ADDITIONAL INFOEMATION.
rriHIS 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
IIL," 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 EICHAED THE THIED.
" present exigencies."* But the A'alidity of these
arguments has since been impugned by Mr.
Nichols ;t and thus the question stood Avhen ]\lr.
Gairdner, with whose views on the subject the
author ventures to express his humble concurrence,
thus steps forward as arbiter IjetAveen the two.
"Mr. Nichol's Historical Introduction," he says,
" contains some important remarks in correction
of Lingard and Sharon Turner, Avhich show hoAv
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 Avhich 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 Avrits 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 AA'iit of suf>ersedeas
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 AA'hich he says
is further declared in the Act of Settlement of the
first year of Richard III. Now the Avords of that
act do indeed declare that there Avas 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.
t Grants, &c. from the Crown during the Eeign of Edward A'. Hist.
Introduction by John G. Nichols, Esq., pp. 387 — 396.

KING RICHARD TIIE THIED. 317
to show that there was the semblance of such a
thing. In plain ordinary language, the parliament
really did meet, but the meeting Avas an informal
one, and AA'hat Avas 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, Avhatever may have been the constitution of
the assembly which invited Richard to assume the
sovereign dignity, certain it is that the legal parlia
ment, Avhich met seven months afterAvards, 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 AA'iites, — "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 l."t And
yet, accordingto Hume, " never was there in any
country a usurpation more flagrant than that of
* Letters and Papers illustrative of the Reigns of Eichard III. and
Henry VIL, Preface, pp. xvii and xviii.
t Lord Campbell's Lives ofthe Chancellors, vol. i. p. 407.

318 KIXG EICHARD THE THIRD.
Richard, or more repugnant to every principle of
justice and public interest." Again, AAiites 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 Avas the conduct of the majority of
them when Richard set forth his claims to the
sovereign poAver. Thomas Bourchier, Archbishop
of Canterbury, and formerly Lord ChanceUor.
placed the croAvn on his head in AA'estminster
Abbey. A few Aveeks afterwards, Thomas Roth
eram, Archbishop of York, also formerly Lord
Chancellor and " considered to be the greatest
equity lawyer of the age,"* croAvned him at York.
John Russell, Bishop of Lincoln, — "a wise man
and good, "t and one ofthe executors of Edward
IV., — not only consented to retain the Great Seal.
but held it till within about three Aveeks of Rich
ard's death. At Richard's first coronation there
walked in procession Peter Courtenay. Bishop of
Exeter; James GoldAvell, Bishop of Norwich;
William Dudley, Bishop of Durham ; Robert StiU-
* Lord Campbell's Lives of Iho Chancellors, vol. i. p. 397.
t Lord Bacon's Kiohard III. Lord Campbell also speaks of Bishop
Eussell as distinguished for " uncommon learning, piety, and wisdom.'
— Lires of the Chroniclers, p. 404.

KING EICHAED THE THIRD. 319
ington, Bishop of Bath and AVells ; and Edmund
Audley, Bishop of Rochester. Again, when, seven
teen days after his coronation, Richard visited the
University of Cambridge, he Avas met in procession
and congratulated, by AA'illiam AA'aynfiete, 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, Jolm Alcock, Bishop of AVorcester, —
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, Ave 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 moraent to the author. Among the remaining ten,
a curious inquirer would probably discover several others who sent in
their allegiance to Eichard III. Their names are : — Lionel Woodville,
Bishop of Salisbury, brother to the Queen Dowager ; John Morton,
Bishop of Ely, in custody ; Thomas Miling 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 ofLondon ; Richard Bell,
Bishop of Carlisle ; and Richard Oldham, Bishop of Man. The sees of
Bristol, Chester, Gloucester, Oxford, Peterborough, Manchester, and
Eipon, were not then in existence.

320 KING EICHAED THE THIRD.
ard of Gloucester was so utterly unauthorized, so
flagrant, so abhorrent to the feelings of his feUow-
countrymen, as it is usually represented by the
historian. Let it not be forgotten, moreover, that
the learned and venerable Bishop of AA'inchester,
had previously invited Richard to be his guest at
his new foundation, Magdalen CoUege; that he
honourably entertained him there, and, that, at
his departure, he caused to be entered on the col
lege register, —
" ViA'AT Rex in jeternum."
AVe will now A-enture to say a fcAv Avords in refer
ence to the favourable manner in. Avhich Ave find
Richard occasionally spoken of liy his contem
poraries, compared Avitli the virulent abuse too
often heaped upon him l5y the succeeding Tudor
chroniclers. Thus, in a very interesting contem
porary poem, entitled "On the Recovery of the
Throne l)y EdAvard IA'.,"* for AAhich we are in
debted to Mr. AA' right, occurs the foUowing
stanza : — " The Duke of Gloucester, that noble prince.
Young of age and victorious in battle.
To the honour of Hector lhal he might come.
Grace him followeth, fortune and good speed.
I suppose he is the samo that clerks read of.
Fortune hath him chosen, and forth with him will go,
Her husband lo be ; the will of God is so."
* Political Poems and Songs, p. 380.

KING RICHARD TIIE THIRD. 321
But, doubtless, among the most remarkable en
comiums AA'hich Avere lavished on Richard in his
lifetime, Avere those Avhich 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 actuaUy con-
A'ersed with him. Rous, who was born about the
year 1411, Avas one of the chaplains of a chantiy at
Guy's Cliff, about a mile and a half from AA'arAvick •
Castle. His principal duties Avere to pray for the
good estate of the Earls of AA'arAvick : his principal
occupation was studying and writing about an
tiquities. Of the many years which he spent at
Guy's Cliff, twenty Avere 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 Avhich 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 IIL,
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
VIL, 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 Avoik, in AA'hich
he accused Richard of the most frightful crimes,
and heaped on him the most virulent abuse.* He
went even further. Unfortunately, one of the tAvo
rolls which he had executed was, at the time of the
accession of Henry VIL, either in his own pos
session or within his reach, and accordingly he pro
ceeded to mutilate and extract from it aU 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 AA^ales, instead of the croAvn
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 Avas 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 EICHAED 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 piince. King Richard
III. ; " and, lastly, he is desciibed, 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 cliaracter 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 Avriters 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, obAiously the object of Henry and his
fiiends to depreciate and revile, as much as pos
sible, the character of Richard,j,lor the purpose of
preventing commiseration attaching itseU to his
* See Eous's biographical notices, Nos. 17, 62, 63, in the Duke of
Manchester's copy of the Eous Roll, edited, with an interesting intro
duction, by William Courthope, Esq., Somerset Herald.

324 KING RICHARD THE THIRD.
memory, and also to bring his line into disfavour
and contempt. Had Richard proA-ed victorious on
the field of BosAvorth ; had he quietly tran.smitted
his crown to one of the princes of his race, Ave
should probably find, in the chronicles and records
of the past, little to his discredit, and possibly ¦
much fulsome panegyric in his favour.
AVe may mention that in ]\Ir. Gairdner's recent
work, to which Ave 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 A'll. 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 AA'arAvick, 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 Avas not greater than that of the
first sovereign of the house of Tudor. From AA'hat
we know of the character of Richard III. in his
public capacity, Ave may fairly presume that, if he
murdered his nephews, he Avas at least patriotic
enough to have had in vieAV the prosperity of his
subjects and the tranquillity of his kingdom, as
well as the selfish object of perstmal aggrandize
ment. Henry, on the contrary, Avould seem to
* Page 113. Letter from De Puebla, the Spanish ambassador in
Eno-land lo King Ferdinand and l^Juoou Isabella.

KING EICHAED 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.

Hppenbty

APPENDIX. A.
KING RICHARD'S PERSONAL APPEARANCE.
(See p. 105.)
" The old Countess of Desmond, who had danced with Richard,"
writes AValpole, " 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
menti'oned on this subject, 1 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 hira that
when she was a girl she had known farailiarly, and frequently seen, an
old lady who had been brought up by the forraer Countess of Desmond,
who became noted for her remarkable longevity, as she lived lo be one
hundred and twenty years of age. This lady mentioned that this aged
Countess of Desraond had declared that she had been at a court banquet
where Eichard was present, and that he was in no way personally de
formed or crooked. Edward IV. was deeraed, in his day, the hand
somest man of his court." — Sharon Turner's Richard the Third, u Poem,
p. 277, note. ,
The reader, who may be interested in the story of the " old Countess
of Desmond " and her remarkable recollections of Eichard IIL, 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 Eeview, vol. ii. p. 329 ;
and Notes and Queries, vols. ii. iii. iv. and v. patsim.
329

330 APPENDIX.

B.

MURDER or 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
VIL, 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 raany 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 ou 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 cau
readily understand. " Of the manner of the death]^of this young king
and of his brother," writes the chronicler Eastell, " 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 brolher from
under the bedstead, and held his face down to the ground wilh his one
hand, and with the other hand cut his throat asunder with a dagger.
It is a marvel that any raan could have so hard a heart to do so cruel a
deed, save only that necessity compelled them ; for ihey 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. AVherefore 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 raeans of one that
was secret with the protector, they were put in a ship going to Flan
ders ; and, when tht 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. AVhich 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 thera
to do. And then they bade thera hide themselves in a great chest, that
no mail should find them, and if anybody carae into the 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 so
buried thera quick [alive]. Which chest was after cast into the black
deeps, as is before said." — Rastell'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 Eichard, tends to
weaken the evidence which has been adduced in support of his sympathy
with feraale suffering. But Walpole has suggested, and his conjecture
is probably correct, that it was at the instigation of the priesthood, and
not of Eichard, 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, Eichard was afforded the opportunity of increas-*
ing the severity of her punishmgnt, 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 coramitted 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. Eichard 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-har.sh, had he dismissed Sir Thoraas frora his post, or even com
mitted hira 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 Eussell, Bishop of
Lincoln, then lord-chancellor, he writes : — " AVe, for many causes,
should be sorry that he (tho 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. j\nd if ye find hira 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, iu the
raean season.
" To the right reverend father in God, etc., the Bishop of Li)icoln."X
The popular story of Richard forbidding thfe citizens of London to
relieve the unfortunate woman during her penapce, and of her dying,
in consequence of hunger and fatigue, in Shoreditch, is manifestly
apocryphal. " I could not get one bit oi bread.
Whereby my hunger might be fed ;
Nor drink, but sucb as channels yield,
Or stinking ditches in the field.
* Hist. Doubts, Lord Orford's AVorks, vol. ii. p. 174 ; S. Turner's Middle Ages,
vol. iii. p. 449, cd. 1825.
t Harl. MS. 433, fol. 340, quoted iu Lord ( Irford's Works, vol. ii. p. 174 ; Camp
bell's Chancellors, vol. i. p. 409, where Lord Orford's inaccurate reference to the
llarl. M.S. is corrected.

APPENDIX. 333
" Thus, weary of my life, at length
I yielded up my vital strength
AVitbin a ditch of loathsome scent,
AVhere carrion dofs did mucb frequent.
" Tbe wbich now, since my dying day.
Is Shoreditch called, as writers say,
AVhicb 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."t 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 harraony 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 X 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
'f" The woefuU Lamentation of Jane Shore, a goldsmith's wife in London," &c.
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.
t More's Eichard III. p. 82.
I 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 bave 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, " wbicb 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. But 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 lo 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." — " Yel," con
tinues the future lord-chancellor, " delighted not men so rauch in her
beauty as in her pleasant behaviour. For a proper wit had she, and
could both read well and write ; raerry in corapany, 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
realra, 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 soraewhat 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 belle the devil), she never abused to any man's hurt, but to
many a man's corafort 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 sraall 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 remerabrances of great raatters ; which
they shall specially think, that haply shall esteera her only by lhal 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 thos'3 that those days had business to speed." t
Jane Shore survived to the reign of Henry VIIL, dying, apparently,
* Drayton's AVorks, p. 121. lid. U-IS. 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 deera 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, raight 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 made t 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 VIL,
tut of Christian II. King of Denmark. As such the picture is described
in a catalogue contemporary with the reign of Henry VIIL, and as such,
"we presume, it will be transraitted to posterity.
* More's Eichard III. p. 86. tltid. p. 84. t Ante, p. 80G.

END or VOL. I. i

YALE UNIVERSITY