The Strife of the Roses and Days of the Tudors in the West Part 12

Here we conclude this desultory outline of the history of Bonville, and as our feet make homeward, many thoughts haunt us over the marvels--for they are nothing less--that fill its phases of human relation. In the middle of its recital, which concluded with the untimely death of Lord Bonville, we said it was a relief to turn aside from the atrocities mingled with the strife of the Roses. In its continuation, for a while, under the more settled rule of Tudor, there were comparatively fewer horrors to chronicle, but the union of the royal houses, emblemed by the rival flowers, was cemented with blood, its ghastly trail followed into the spirit of the new dynasty, and gathering strength as the three generations of Grey pa.s.sed, culminated at length in a tragedy for size and importance unsurpa.s.sed in the annals of our national history. Its last representative, although a subject only, had wedded the grand-daughter of one, and cousin of another of the reigning Kings, and who had herself also been a Queen in her own right. Here the topmost pinnacle of alliance with the highest worldly station had been reached, but only to experience the fate of that often-witnessed terrific downfall, which follows the promptings engendered by the unsatisfied ambition of attaining to such dangerous alt.i.tude. Within three short years, three headless dukes--of foremost station in their native land, and allied to each other by ties of relations.h.i.+p--pa.s.sed from the scaffold on Tower Hill to obscure and unmarked graves in the little Chapel of that fortress; and with them went also, after experiencing the same terrible ordeal, following her youthful husband, a young and guileless victim, almost the sole representative of the new stock, into which the last tender branch of the extinct house of Bonville had been engraffed.

Enough, sayest thou, friend of mine, of this harrowing relation;--quite so,--our story is ended. Life was indeed intended for happier results than these, and how much better the simple delights, enjoyments and pleasures of unenvied station, that in their possession are ever

"Forbade to wade through slaughter to a throne;"

and unsmote by the glamour of the basilisk Ambition, whose fascination lives on the ever unsatisfied desire for fame or station, until often, when too late and past recall, the illusion vanishes as the victim disappears over the verge of the unseen, treacherous precipice of irretrievable ruin.

The shadows grow deeper between the hedgerows as we saunter homeward, a dewy mist is settling down the valley, and a cheery glint salutes us here and there from the cottage windows as we pa.s.s along. Listen! What melody do we hear, with greeting so soft and soothing? Aye, artless as it is, that, which in this world, for sweetness knows no rival, even

A MOTHER'S SONG.

'Tis eve, and dusky twilight falls; Here is a home that men call poor, A glimmer lights its humble walls, A strain comes through its half-closed door; Sweet as from Sappho's soul might spring, Song, none but mother's voice may sing.

Look through the cas.e.m.e.nt dim and old, A shadow fronts the ingle's glow, Whose arms a tiny form enfold, Sits gently rocking to and fro; With cadence measured to its swing, Comes song that mothers only sing.

Her tears fall on the baby's brow, Too full her heart with very joy, Hark! with her voice is blending now, The sleepy murmurs of her boy; Faint--fainter--hushed and slumbering, By song but mother's lips may sing.

Why bends, O friend, thy brow with thought, At glimpse of Paradise so fair?

Doth memory fill thy heart unsought With echo, whose 'divine despair'

Brings sadness past imagining?

Song that thy mother used to sing!

O soft sweet voice, O simple strain, Where love ne'er bids the measure cease, Until the charm of its refrain, Lulls the complaining soul to peace; Come back again on angel wing, O song my mother used to sing!

It may not be, earth hath one heaven, Our childhood's days, a mother's care, When life is o'er, will other given Restore to us these joys so rare?

Yes, and its pure delight shall bring, The songs our mothers used to sing.

[Ill.u.s.tration: MONUMENT TO HENRY STAFFORD, DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM, K G. BRITFORD CHURCH, NEAR SALISBURY.]

UNDER THE HOOF OF THE WHITE BOAR.

The fair, busy, if not large city of New Sarum or Salisbury, has since its foundation, occupied an important place in our national history, resulting from the heritage of its natural position, which may be described as forming the Gate or Key to the peninsula of the West.

Besides this, it is the inheritor of, and is a.s.sociated with, some of the oldest traditions of the land before the pen of history has left record, the venerable fame of previous ages having descended and added distinguished interest to its surroundings, while the marvellous circle of Stonehenge finds its place close by, as also its own antient progenitor, the equally remarkable hill-fortressed city of Old Sarum,--circ.u.mstances that attest the importance in which the locality was regarded, wherein its city of to-day is situate.

Succeeding events have also added their witness to this distinction.

The foundation and building of its beautiful and unique Cathedral, begun, completed, and finished in one harmonious design, without let or hindrance, and the afterward crowning it with the magnificent spire, the finest in the kingdom, and with very doubtful rivalry elsewhere,--its notable succession of bishops,--and the number of distinguished personages, who through the following centuries down to these present days, have held high rule as statesmen and administrators in our land, who have sought the privilege of having its name as an affix to their t.i.tles of honour, Longspee, Montacute, Nevill, and Cecil,--have interwoven and sustained the claim of its reputation into almost every period of our national annals.

Yet, notwithstanding the importance of its position, it is singular, no very important or striking incident connected with the national government, such as has made famous many other localities, has occurred within, or immediately near it. The reasons for this may not be far to seek. The sea coasts on either side of it offered facilities for martial transit or commercial enterprise, which Salisbury could not possess, and so the tide of action, as a rule, pa.s.sed at a distance, but its great advantages as a central position for the purposes of _rendez-vous_, warlike or otherwise, have always been used and made available.

Lying on the high road between London and the Land's End, it has naturally received many royal visits, from that of the young king Henry III., at the consecration of the cathedral in 1225, downward, at divers times and on various errands, civil, military, or with darker and sanguinary intent to take vengeance on their enemies; and it is the result of one of these vindictive errands that brought a king to Salisbury, and the circ.u.mstances preceding and following it, that form the basis of our homely narrative.

Of the very antient and ill.u.s.trious family of Stafford, whose origin is contemporary with the Conqueror, for the purposes of our little history the first we need mention is Thomas Stafford, fourth Baron and third Earl of that name, who lived in the reign of Richard II. He allied himself with a lady of direct royal descent, Anne Plantagenet, eldest daughter of Thomas of Woodstock, Duke of Gloucester, sixth son of king Edward III., by his wife Eleanor, eldest daughter and coheir of Humphrey de Bohun, the last Earl of Hereford, Ess.e.x, and Northampton, who died in 1372.

Mary, the other daughter and coheir of Humphrey de Bohun, Earl of Ess.e.x, &c., as aforesaid, was married to Henry Plantagenet, Earl of Derby, eldest son of John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, fourth son of king Edward III., who was successively created Earl and Duke of Hereford, and ultimately ascended the throne as Henry IV., surnamed 'of Bolingbroke.'

In 1397 Richard II. caused his uncle Thomas of Woodstock, Duke of Gloucester, to be kidnapped by a company of armed men near Stratford, and conveyed to Calais, where he is said to have been privately strangled. To cover this crime it was given out the Duke had died from natural causes, and that before his death he had confessed himself guilty of treason toward the king, upon which all his estates were confiscated by the Parliament. Richard gave them to his cousin Henry, Earl of Derby (afterward Henry IV.), who had married the younger daughter Mary, and he thus became possessed of the whole of the Hereford estate, and of course most unjustly to the prejudice of the heirs of Thomas of Woodstock, whose daughter Anne was married to Thomas, Earl of Stafford.

These genealogical particulars, although somewhat dry, intricate, and well known, are very necessary, nevertheless, to keep in mind, as they are said to have exercised material influence on the ultimate issue of our story.

Thomas, Earl of Stafford, husband of Anne Plantagenet, died young, and without issue. He was succeeded in the Earldom by his brother William, who also died when a youth.

Both these brothers were succeeded by their next brother, Edmund Stafford, sixth Baron, and fifth Earl of Stafford. In the 22 Richard II., 1399, he had the king's special license to marry his eldest brother's widow, Anne Plantagenet, "which marriage of the said Thomas and Anne had never been consummated owing to the tender years of the Earl." He was also K.G., and was killed at the battle of Shrewsbury, fighting on the side of king Henry IV., in 1403.

He was succeeded by his son Humphrey, who was created Duke of Buckingham 14 Sept., 1444, with precedence before all dukes whatsoever, next to those of the blood royal. In 1450 Henry VI. made him Constable of Dover Castle, and Warden of the Cinque Ports, he was also a Knight of the Garter. He married the Lady Anne Nevill, daughter of Ralph, first Earl of Westmoreland, K.G., who died in 1425. He was faithfully attached to the Lancastrian interest, and was killed at the battle of Northampton on the 27 July, 1460, fighting under the banner of Henry VI. and the Red Rose.

Humphrey Stafford, his eldest son, Earl of Stafford, married Margaret, daughter of Edmund Beaufort, first Duke of Somerset, grandson of John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, by Katharine Swynford, and who was killed on the side of the Red Rose at the first battle of St. Albans on 23 May, 1455. The Earl Humphrey was also slain in the same battle with his father-in-law.

He thus died before his father, leaving a son Henry, who succeeded his grandfather, the first Duke, who died in 1460, and this Henry, who was the second Duke of Buckingham, is the subject of our history.

It would be difficult to find among the antient n.o.bility of England a man with a more ill.u.s.trious ancestry, derived by two direct sources from the blood royal, and allied with Bohun, Nevill, Beauchamp, and Audley, all families of the first consequence and influence. It would be equally difficult to find a family more unfortunate.

The restless, troubled life of Henry Stafford, second Duke of Buckingham, and its importance, as bearing on one of the most noted epochs of English history, is a subject much too large to receive anything beyond a very imperfect outline here; and it has been necessarily more or less comprehensively treated, by all our national historians. The province of this little narrative will be rather in a local sense to gather together, and describe from such records and observation as may be available, the circ.u.mstances of the defection, betrayal, arrest, trial, death, probable burial-place, and presumed monument set up to the memory of this unfortunate man, the major portion of which appears to have occurred almost within reach of the shadow of the glorious spire before us.

His wards.h.i.+p was vested in the king Edward IV., and his tuition entrusted to the king's sister Anne, wife of the unfortunate Henry Holland, second Duke of Exeter, and five hundred marks per annum, out of the revenue of the lords.h.i.+ps of Brecknock, Newport, &c., in Wales, set aside for his maintenance. Humphrey, his father, as we have seen, was slain at St. Albans in 1455, and at the death of his grandfather Humphrey, the first Duke, who fell at the battle of Northampton in 1460, he succeeded to the t.i.tle. But very little is heard further of him during the reign of Edward IV.

At the death of Edward, however, he appears to have at once come to the front, as one of the most important personages in the kingdom. The widowed Queen-Mother Elizabeth Widville, during the king's lifetime, naturally had done the best that lay in her power for the advancement of her family; and it seems at the same time, not very discreetly, treated with contempt and indifference the older n.o.bility of the kingdom. This treatment was naturally resented on their part, and Edward appears to have been fully cognizant of this antagonism, and was anxious, for the weal of his son, to dispel it. So, shortly before his death, he did his best to effect a reconciliation between them; this to a considerable extent was done, and the king believed it was sincere.

Immediately after Edward's decease, however, the Queen-Mother seems to have revived and accentuated this undesirable feeling, and also sought to exercise a controlling influence over the government of the kingdom in her son the young king's name. To this end she contrived, if not exactly to expel, at least to keep from the Court and presence of her son, among others, three of the most important of the antient n.o.bility, who had been highly in favour with her late husband, and who were fully aware of her schemes and antipathy to them, while at the same time they were also thoroughly loyal to the interests of her son, or presumably so. These were Henry, Duke of Buckingham, William, Lord Hastings, and Thomas, Lord Stanley. This antipathy was the more strange also as regarded two of them, as they were almost members of the Queen-Mother's family, for Buckingham was her brother-in-law, being married to her sister Katharine; and Hastings was father-in-law to her son's--Thomas Grey, the Marquis of Dorset's--wife, he having married the widow of the last Bonville, the mother of Cicely. But family relations.h.i.+ps, however near, do not appear to have carried much weight in those days, where restless, thirsty ambition intervened.

At the juncture of Edward's death, the Duke of Gloucester was at York on the king's business, and young Edward V. was at Ludlow Castle under the guardians.h.i.+p of his uncle, the Earl Rivers. The king's younger brother, the Duke of York, was with the Queen-Mother in the Tower, that fortress being under the command of the Marquis of Dorset, her son. She had already got into hot water with the Council, and affronted both Hastings and Buckingham, and she had sent a despatch to her brother in Wales, to bring the young King to London with a large armed escort of at least two thousand men. Gloucester, it is related, being aware of this state of affairs, and the disaffection of Hastings and Buckingham, sent privately for them to meet him and discuss the situation; but Dugdale says, that Buckingham, on hearing of the death of Edward,--

"speedily despatched one Pershall, his trusty servant in all haste unto Richard Duke of Gloucester, then in the north, and that Pershall being privately admitted to speak to him, in the dead of night, told him that his master had sent him to offer him his service, and that he would wait on him with a thousand good fellows if need were,"

at any rate the three met, and were all well in agreement as to their hatred of the Queen-Mother, and desired to remove both herself and family from the position of influence they had acquired. Gloucester made due note of this, carefully veiling his own ultimate purpose. But the advance of the young King and an armed host under the command of Rivers, was to be baulked if possible, and for this purpose Hastings was despatched to London, to convey the a.s.surance of his and his companion's loyalty, and to represent that it would be most impolitic to have a large military escort accompanying the young King. The Queen-Mother believing this counsel to be all genuine and well-meant, desired her brother to bring the King with only a comparatively small guard, or such a retinue as befitted him.

Gloucester and Buckingham, with a force of nine hundred armed men, arrived at Northampton from York a few days before the King and his uncle Rivers reached that town. They went out to meet the King, and saluted him very respectfully, at the same time saying that as Northampton was very full of strangers just then, it would be advisable for the King's comfort, if himself and his retinue proceeded to Stony-Stratford, twelve miles further on, and nearer London. This being agreed on, it was proposed to the Earl, "in a free and easy manner," that he should return with Gloucester and pa.s.s the night at Northampton, which "kind invitation" Rivers unsuspectingly complied with.

The evening appears to have been spent in conviviality and mutual protestations of good faith toward each other, and subsequently the Earl retired to his lodgings at an Inn. Guards were at once placed over him, and every precaution taken to prevent any communication between Northampton and Stony-Stratford. The victim was securely caged.

At day-break the next morning Gloucester and Buckingham were on horseback, ready to depart. Rivers was still in bed, and being wakened by his servant was told of this circ.u.mstance, but that no one was suffered to go out of the Inn. The Earl thereon hastily dressed himself, and desired to know the reason of this proceeding; and meeting with the Dukes, asked why they kept the keys of the Inn, and thus sought to make him a prisoner there. He found them in a very different frame of mind from the previous evening, they immediately began to upbraid and quarrel with him, told him he sought to alienate the King's affections from his uncle Gloucester, and others the King's faithful subjects, and that they should take care to prevent the like practices in future. The Earl returned a calm answer to this accusation, but they refused to hear him, gave him into custody, and mounting their horses, rode off to Stony-Stratford.

Here they found the young King ready to pursue his journey, and after paying him their respects, remounted to escort him. But before they had left the town, they quarrelled with Lord Richard Grey, charging him and the Marquis of Dorset (who was in London) with allegations similar to those they had preferred against Earl Rivers. The poor young King was greatly distressed at this position of affairs, and said he could say nothing as to the Marquis of Dorset, but as for the others he could answer for their conduct, as they had been continually with him. To this Buckingham replied, that they had carefully concealed their designs from him, which however were not the less certain. Lord Grey, with Sir Thomas Vaughan and Sir Richard Hawke, who were in attendance on the King, were at once arrested, and together with Earl Rivers, either on the same day or the next, were sent northward in custody of several persons, and finally incarcerated in Pontefract Castle, whose Governor was Sir Richard Ratcliffe, a partisan of Gloucester. The young King himself was re-conducted back to Northampton, practically as much a prisoner as his uncle and half-brother, and reserved ultimately for a similarly cruel fate. Thus the first act of this atrocious tragedy was completed.

The news of this _coup-de-main_ having reached the Queen-Mother, she was greatly terrified, for she saw at a glance its full significance, and she immediately with her son the Duke of York, her other children, the Marquis of Dorset, and the rest of her family, took sanctuary at Westminster, as their only available refuge.

Lord Hastings, who was in London, had intelligence of these proceedings the same night. Although he excessively disliked the Queen-Mother, yet he was thoroughly loyal to the young King and the other children of Edward IV., his former friend and patron, and although he was privy to the plot for the seizing of Rivers and Grey, yet he appears to have had no further wish than to prevent the Queen-Mother directing the government. On receipt of the news, he at once proceeded to acquaint Rotherham, the Archbishop, and quieted his alarm by a.s.suring him the King was in no danger, and all these steps were devised for the welfare of the kingdom. Rotherham repaired immediately to the Queen-Mother, whom he found at Westminster, "in a disconsolate condition, sitting upon the ground, lamenting her own and her children's fate, while her domestics were busy in carrying such goods as were necessary into the Sanctuary." The Archbishop conveyed Hastings' intelligence to her as to the safety of the King, and did his best to comfort her, and gave her every possible a.s.surance of his own fidelity, telling her, among other things, that, even supposing it possible they might put the King to death, he would at once crown the Duke of York. But the Queen-Mother was slow to believe in anything but of the worst import. The good prelate, in company with many others, had failed to gauge the ultimate depths of Gloucester's design.

In the meanwhile the citizens of London, like the Queen-Mother, greatly alarmed at this sudden turn of affairs, were beginning to arm themselves, in view of possible contingencies. Hastings, who had great influence with the citizens, contrived to keep them quiet, while plausible stories as to the hostile designs of the imprisoned Rivers and his companions were circulated, and all suspicion and distrust being allayed, immediately thereupon the King, attended by the Dukes of Gloucester and Buckingham, arrived; and escorted by a large concourse of n.o.bility and others, Gloucester riding before him bare-headed, made a triumphal entry into the city, and was lodged in the Bishop's palace. These rejoicings over, Gloucester called a Council together of his own friends and partisans, and thereat he was const.i.tuted "Protector of the King, and kingdom." So the second act of the tragedy reached its conclusion.

Gloucester's first step was to take the Great Seal from Archbishop Rotherham, and give it to John Russell, Bishop of Lincoln, the Duke of Buckingham and Lord Hastings were confirmed in their places, and the other positions of influence filled up by his own partisans. The next step was to get possession of the Duke of York, the young King's brother, then in Sanctuary with his mother.

Gloucester proposed this course at a Council, and suggested that a proper representative should be sent to the Queen-Mother, requesting her to deliver up the young prince to their custody, and suggesting that Cardinal Bourchier, Archbishop of Canterbury (who was related both to him and Buckingham), was the fittest person to be entrusted with the errand, and added, that if the Queen-Mother refused to listen to the message of the Cardinal, he saw no reason why they should not obtain him by force, if necessary. The Cardinal readily undertook the negociation, but he would not hear for an instant of daring to violate the Sanctuary,--"such an attempt would certainly draw down the just vengeance of G.o.d on the whole kingdom." To this objection Buckingham vehemently replied, backing up the views of Gloucester, that if the Queen-Mother refused to give up her son freely, they should take him by force out of Sanctuary; and this course was agreed to at the Council, notwithstanding the remonstrances of the ecclesiastics present.

The Cardinal-Archbishop waited on the Queen-Mother and did his best by entreaties and a.s.surances to induce her to part with her son, but she could not be persuaded to place her child in the hands of the man she so greatly feared, and believed to be her mortal enemy. At last Bourchier told her the dread truth, that if she did not deliver him up otherwise, they would take him from her by force, notwithstanding the privilege of Sanctuary, but that he could not believe they would have made him the instrument of deceiving her, and bringing harm to her son. Alas, the good Cardinal was thoroughly deceived with the rest, and so, finding he could not persuade her, prepared to depart. The distracted mother thereon chose what appeared the least evil of the two, "caught the boy in her arms, tenderly took leave of him, and in a flood of tears delivered him to the Cardinal."