Читать книгу The Queens of England (Vol. 1-3) - Strickland Agnes - Страница 33

Margaret was the last of the Provençal Queens of England, and she filled a most important position for more than a quarter of a century. Through her mother she was a direct descendant of the great Emperor Charlemagne, and her father, René of Anjou, was the son of the King of Sicily and Jerusalem.

A.D. 1431. When she was about two years old her father fought a battle against Anthony of Vaudemonte, and was taken prisoner. This battle was to decide who was to rule over Lorraine, and as René was captured he was handed over to the Duke of Burgundy, who locked him up in the top of a high tower at Dijon. While there the royal captive amused himself with painting on glass; some of the beautiful specimens of his art were preserved, and are still to be seen in the chapel of the Castle of Dijon.

During the imprisonment of her husband, which lasted a long time, Margaret's mother was left with the entire care of their four young children, two boys and two girls, all of whom were remarkably pretty and interesting. Many months passed, and at last René was granted permission to leave the prison on condition that he would consent to the marriage of his elder daughter, Yolante, then in her ninth year, with Frederic of Vaudemonte, the son of the man by whom he had been made a captive. She was to have for her dowry part of the disputed lands

of Lorraine. Besides, René had to pledge himself to pay a heavy ransom to the Duke of Burgundy, to give his two sons as hostages, and to allow Yolante to go and live with her new mother-in-law. At the same time, the baby Margaret was promised in marriage to Pierre, Count of St. Pol, but in consideration of her youth she was permitted to stay at home. So out of their four children these unhappy parents took back only one to Nancy, where they were living.

All René's efforts to raise the ransom failed, and there was nothing left for him to do but to deliver himself up at last and go back to prison. His son John went with him, while Louis, the younger one, was restored to his distressed mother.

Two years passed away, and Louis, King of Naples, died. René was his rightful successor, and his faithful wife immediately took steps to claim the throne for him. She was a woman of superior talent, courage, and energy, and as she lived at the time when the renowned Joan of Arc was flourishing, it did not appear in any way odd or strange that she should fight for her rights. She at once assumed the title of Queen of the Two Sicilies, and went to live in the Castle of Tarascon, on the banks of the river Rhone.

Her two children became such pets among the Provençals, who loved their captive prince, that they were almost worshipped. Every time they went out the people would follow them in crowds, sing and strew flowers in their path, and present them with offerings of wreaths. At night they would light bonfires in front of the castle, because there was a superstition among them that it was the way to keep off pestilence. Once when a band of people, calling themselves witches and fairies, came with the crowd to see the pretty children, they were all burned alive, the ignorant of those times believing that pestilence was brought by the magic of such creatures. Notwithstanding this precaution a plague really did break out, and the queen was obliged to hurry away with her little ones. They embarked at Marseilles and went to Naples, where there was an ancient palace belonging to the family of Anjou.

The queen then had her husband proclaimed King of the Two Sicilies. At this ceremony she was seated with her children in the chair of state, which was covered with velvet embroidered with gold, and borne through the streets of Naples. She never ceased working until she obtained her husband's freedom, and witnessed his grand entry into Naples on a stately white charger, followed by a Provençal army.

A.D. 1435. In the treaty for his liberation the following very remarkable article, proposed by the Duke of Burgundy, appears:—"And to cement the peace between the two powers, Margaret of Anjou, second daughter of King René, shall espouse the young King of England." Margaret was then only six years of age. Her parents removed to a magnificent palace, where she and her brother Louis pursued their studies together for several years. Then Louis died and Margaret experienced in this loss her first real sorrow.

King René's territories fell into the hands of the English, and he was reduced to such poverty that he retired with his family to Lorraine, where he spent his time writing verses and composing music that was the delight of all Europe. It was he who invented the opera ballet, and while thus pleasantly engaged he bore his trials with perfect indifference.

In the meantime, Margaret's engagement with St. Pol was broken off on account of the prospect of an alliance with the King of England. She had become a beautiful girl, and had created quite a sensation at the court of her aunt, the Queen of France, by her wit and accomplishments. When Henry VI. heard of her charms he sent a gentleman to find out if they had not been exaggerated, and at the same time to bring him a correct portrait of the Lady Margaret. The messenger returned with an eloquent description of her, partly because it was really deserved, and partly because he, as well as many persons of both the English and the French nations, hoped that this alliance would bring about a lasting peace between their countries. Henry was then in his four-and-twentieth year, good-looking, with a cultivated, refined mind, and excellent morals.

A.D. 1444. In 1444, commissioners met to arrange a treaty of peace, which was to be strengthened by the marriage of Henry and Margaret. When King René's consent was asked he gave it on condition that the dominions of Anjou and Maine were returned to him. This was granted by Henry and his council, and neither money nor lands were required for a dowry with the bride, her beauty and talents being considered sufficient "to outweigh all the riches in the world."

There was some opposition made to this marriage by the Duke of Gloucester and his party, who did not want peace with France, nor a daughter of the house of Anjou on their throne; but it was all arranged in spite of them, and the Duke of Suffolk sailed from England with a splendid train of nobility to conduct Margaret to her future home.

The marriage ceremony was performed at Nancy in presence of the bride's parents, the royal family of France, and a large number of nobles and ladies. King Henry was not present, but Suffolk stood in his place, and married the Lady Margaret in the name of the Sovereign of England.

King René gave a grand tournament in honor of the marriage, and all the princely knights and gallant warriors wore garlands of daisies out of compliment to the bride, who had chosen this flower for her emblem. The festivities lasted eight days, and were attended by most of the nobles of France, England, and Burgundy. Margaret's sister, Yolante, was married at the same time, and this is how it was managed: she had been engaged to Frederic of Vaudemonte for more than nine years, but as her father had been forced to agree to this engagement when he was a prisoner he never intended to fulfil it. But the lover was not to be put off any longer, so he made a plan with some of his daring young friends to carry off his lady-love while the tournament was going on. King René was very angry at first, but soon forgave the young couple, and the festivities continued with fresh spirit.

At the end of the week Margaret took a mournful farewell of her weeping family and friends, by whom she was deeply loved. Her uncle, Charles VII. of France, went part of the way with her. At parting, he pressed her in his arms tenderly, and said, with his eyes full of tears: "I seem to have done nothing for you, my dear niece, in placing you on one of the greatest thrones in Europe, for it is scarcely worthy of possessing you." The young queen was sobbing so that she could not reply, and they parted never to meet again. Her father went with her still further, and when they embraced in farewell they could not speak, but turned away from each other with hearts too full to permit of their uttering a single word.

The wars with France that had lasted so long had made Henry so poor that he was obliged to call a meeting of parliament, when his bride was coming, to get money to defray the expenses of his wedding and Margaret's coronation, and for the same purpose he pawned some of the crown jewels.

The young queen had been so ill on the voyage that she had to be carried from the boat to the shore. A terrible storm was raging when she landed, but in spite of the thunder and lightning, people flocked in crowds to look at her. It was many days before she could proceed on her journey, because her illness proved to be something that looked very like small-pox. However, it could not have been a very severe case, because her beauty was not impaired in the least.

A.D. 1445. She was able to join her husband at last, and their nuptials were solemnized at Tichfield Abbey, in April, 1445. The bridal ring contained a ruby of great value, and had been a present to the king from his uncle, Cardinal Beaufort.

Poor Margaret's wardrobe was so scanty that Henry was obliged to buy her some clothing before she could appear in public. This to a girl of fifteen, who probably expected a fine trousseau when she married at least, must have been distressing. Although the English were dissatisfied because their new queen brought no dower, and because of her relation to the royal family of France, her beauty won its way to their hearts, and secured for her a hearty welcome where ever she appeared. All the knights and nobles wore her emblem flower, the daisy, in their caps, when they came in a body to receive her in state. This must have been a very flattering compliment, and the king carried it still further by having "Marguerites" engraved on his silver. Grand preparations had been made in London for the young queen's reception; there were triumphal arches across the principal streets bearing mottoes and beautiful designs in flowers, besides banners and evergreens. At every corner there were pictures or dressed-up figures having some political meaning, or offering some mark of welcome and loyalty to the new sovereign.

A large procession of men on horseback conducted her into the city.' These consisted of, first, the Duke of Gloucester with five hundred attendants, all wearing his badge and livery; then the mayor, aldermen, and sheriffs in blue gowns with embroidered sleeves and red hoods. Next came the queen's carriage, surrounded by her suite, and a long train of followers brought up the rear.

The coronation took place at Westminster two days later with great splendor, though the king's treasury was almost empty. No doubt all this display was very gratifying to King René's faithful steward, squire, and minstrels, who came to England to witness the reception of their princess, then went back home to tell all about it.

A few weeks after the coronation an embassy arrived with congratulations to Henry VI. from the King of France, and René, Margaret's father. Henry received them seated in a large chair of state covered with blue tapestry. His long robe of scarlet velvet with gold embroidery swept the floor. When the ambassadors made their speech, wishing him the blessings of peace and prosperity, he raised his hat and said, several times: "St. John, thanks; great thanks to St. John!" They then inquired after the health of the young queen, and expressed a hope that the peace then existing between France and England would last forever. Henry replied: "That he desired the continuance of peace beyond anything on earth;" to which all who were present answered, "Amen!"

For the first two years after Margaret's marriage, Cardinal Beaufort was her chief adviser, and she became so fond of him that she would often make visits at his house in Waltham Forest, where there was a room magnificently fitted up for her special use with hangings of spun gold from Damascus. Henry was attached to the good cardinal also, and was always glad to be guided by his advice. He was of the greatest assistance to the young couple on several occasions, for his immense wealth enabled him to help them out of many a debt that they could not otherwise have paid.

At this time Margaret was a woman of unusual intellect and grace of manners. One of the chroniclers of her reign says of her: "England had never seen a queen more worthy of a throne than Margaret of Anjou. No woman surpassed her in beauty, and few men equalled her in courage. It seemed as if she had been formed by Heaven to supply to her royal husband the qualities which he required in order to become a great king."

It was a pity that she was called to share the throne of England when she was so young, for her judgment was not formed, and she had a nature that was more likely to create enemies than friends. She was very foolish in her treatment of the Duke of Gloucester, Henry's uncle, who, she knew, had been one of those most strongly opposed to her marriage. For this she could not forgive him, and, like a spoiled child, took every opportunity of showing him what influence she had over the king, and how much she loved Cardinal Beaufort and the Duke of Suffolk, both of whom were his sworn enemies. But there was a great change in her life by the time she had been two years on the throne, for Henry's ministers met in parliament, and decided on the destruction of the Duke of Gloucester. He had shown a disposition to join the Duke of York for the purpose of opposing the queen and her influence in every possible way. Although the king had no particular evidence to offer against his uncle, he was convinced that he was his enemy, and had him arrested for high treason. The whole country was astonished at this charge, but the astonishment was changed to horror, when, seventeen days later, the Duke of Gloucester was found dead in his bed. Murder was suspected, but there was no proof of it. Some people even accused the queen of having had a hand in it, but it is not at all probable that so young a girl, and one of Margaret's open, candid nature, could have been guilty of so foul a deed.

Eight weeks later the venerable Cardinal Beaufort died, and the young queen was thus deprived of a friend and adviser, whose large experience and profound wisdom had made his counsel so valuable to her. This was, indeed, a most serious loss, for Henry had not the qualities requisite for the government of a kingdom, and this duty, therefore, fell upon the shoulders of Margaret, who was so young that she had scarcely learned to govern herself. The king was absorbed in his studies and in the regulation of the college at Eton, that he had just founded. Affairs of state interested him but little, so his wife naturally turned for advice to the nearest friend of the departed cardinal. This was the Duke of Suffolk, a gray-haired statesman and soldier, who had served in the English army for thirty-four years. He was also a member of the king's cabinet, and his wife was Margaret's favorite maid of honor.

During the interval of peace that the English nation enjoyed before they were again forced into war, Margaret laid the foundation for Queen's College. She also tried to get the people interested in the manufacture of woollen and silk goods that had been commenced there many years before, but the desire for fighting had grown so that it was impossible to make those men or their sons who had fought in France, till the soil or weave cloth. The silk manufacture was chiefly carried on by women, while the men thirsted for the excitement of war in spite of its miseries.

A.D. 1449. In 1449 Charles VII. renewed hostilities, and in the course of two years had got back most of the towns in Normandy. The Duke of York and his party blamed "that French woman," as they contemptuously called Margaret, for all their losses, and declared that the king was fit for a cloister rather than a throne, since he left all the affairs of his kingdom in the hands of a woman.

The Duke of York made himself so offensive to Margaret that she resolved to get rid of him at any cost; she therefore appointed him governor of Ireland. This was a serious mistake, for it only increased his power. He left a strong party in England who were opposed to the queen, though not openly, and did everything to make her and her favorite minister unpopular. They never ceased their efforts until they saw the Duke of Suffolk first imprisoned, then banished, and finally put to death by his enemies in defiance of the crown.

This tragedy was the first of many scenes of blood and horror that were in store for England. The misery of the lower classes caused by famine and disease was so great that they rose in rebellion, headed by Jack Cade, who gathered his rough motley forces about him at Blackheath. They numbered fifteen thousand, but when they heard that King Henry was coming in person to fight them, they got frightened, and fled to a place called Seven Oaks.

It was a pity that Queen Margaret went with her husband, for although she became warlike later in life, she was so little disposed to fight at that time that no sooner had Henry gained a victory than she persuaded him to go back with her to London. She could scarcely have committed a greater error, for the rebels mistook the king's departure for cowardice, and marched straight to the metropolis, where there is no telling what they would have done had not the churchmen interfered and calmed the storm. At their approach the king and queen fled to Kenilworth Castle, and the archbishop took it upon himself to pardon the rebels if they would return in peace to their homes.

A.D. 1450. Cade was not pardoned, but when he found himself deserted by his followers he made his escape. A thousand pounds were offered for his head, and the sheriff of Kent, who caught him, obtained the reward. It was afterwards proved that the Duke of York was at the bottom of this revolt.

The royal couple had now taken the Duke of Somerset into their favor, and though he was exceedingly unpopular in England he succeeded to Suffolk's high office. He belonged to the house of Lancaster, and it is said that his violent temper caused the beginning of those dreadful "wars of the roses" that lasted for twenty years. He had a dispute with Warwick in the Temple Gardens, and plucked a red rose, calling on all the bystanders who sided with him to do likewise. Warwick chose a white rose, and did the same, and forever after the two parties of York and Lancaster were distinguished by this sign. Instead of endeavoring to settle the dispute, Queen Margaret wore the red rose, and very imprudently declared herself an opponent of the other party.

In time the Duke of York became so powerful that the queen advised her husband to make an attack on him. He consented, and marched toward the Welsh border, but he was too weak to take a firm stand as he ought to have done to crush his enemy, and consented to an interview with York, who demanded that Somerset should first be put under arrest. Henry consented. York then disbanded his army and entered the king's tent quite alone. In the meantime the queen had contrived to get Somerset out of the Tower without Henry's knowledge. She then concealed him behind a curtain of the royal tent, so that he might be present at the interview. When York assured the king that he had taken up arms for the sole purpose of bringing Somerset to punishment, the concealed duke rushed from

his hiding-place and accused his enemy of treason. A fierce quarrel ensued, during which the king stood speechless with astonishment. As York left the tent he was put under arrest, probably by the queen's order; but later, when he swore fealty to the king at St. Paul's Cathedral, he was released.

A.D. 1452. About this time Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury, one of Margaret's most devoted friends, was killed in battle. A magnificent volume of sketches that he presented to her shows that he must have had great taste for the fine arts. The colored title-page represents the king and queen seated side by side on a low divan. Margaret wears a royal crown; her hair is of a pale golden color, and falls gracefully over her shoulders. Her mantle is of royal purple, fastened with gems and bands of gold. She is beautiful and majestic in this picture, and does not appear more than twenty years old. Talbot kneels before her presenting the volume, with his dog by his side. Daisies are painted in clusters on the title-page, and the queen's initial (M) is surrounded by the garter and its motto. The ladies in attendance who stand behind the divan wear heart-shaped caps, formed of a stuffed roll ornamented with gold and jewels, and fastened in a fanciful turban shape over a close cap of gold cloth or net-work brought to a point in front and rising at the back of the head. At the end of the volume is an allegorical picture representing Margaret and the ladies of her court as the Virtues. Margaret is Faith and King Henry appears as Honor. The old earl was mourned by all classes of people, for he was the greatest captain of the age.

A.D. 1453. It was in this year that the queen's dearly loved mother died, and a still heavier calamity fell upon the royal household in the fearful malady that began to show itself in the king. He had inherited the brain disease of his grandfather, Charles VI. of France, and the trouble in his court had so affected him that his reason gave way under it. Margaret was therefore compelled to govern alone, whether she desired it or no, and, like a good wife, she made every effort to keep her poor ailing husband in ignorance of all political disturbance. She had him removed to his palace at Westminster, where he could be quiet and kept free from all excitement, and it was there that his only child, the unfortunate Edward of Lancaster, called "The child of sorrow," was born. This boy was named Edward, and was York's only rival to the throne. He was therefore not welcome to the nation, who felt that his existence would be the cause of much bloodshed between the two parties of York and Lancaster.

At this period Queen Margaret was ruling, with the assistance of Cardinal Kemp, Archbishop of Canterbury, but he died a few months after the prince was born, and the House of Lords sent a committee to the king to request him to name a successor. But poor Henry stared at them without understanding a word they said, and of course could make no reply. The Duke of York was then appointed defender and protector of the king as long as his illness lasted, or until Prince Edward should be old enough to ascend the throne. Five physicians and surgeons were appointed to attend the royal sufferer and watch over his health.

Margaret was so wrapped up in her baby, and so worried on account of her husband's condition, that she took no part in these political changes, but her party insisted on her having absolute power as queen regent. York objected, and had the Duke of Somerset put under arrest.

A few months later the king's consciousness suddenly returned, and he seemed as though awakening from a deep sleep. His child was then shown to him, and he noticed

the boy for the first time, although he was more than a year old. the news of the cardinal's death brought tears to his eyes, and he said 'that he never knew of it till this time,' and 'that one of the wisest lords in the land was dead.'

There was great rejoicing over the king's recovery, and Margaret immediately took measures to have him restored to power. Though still weak, he attended parliament and replaced Somerset in office. But this triumph of the queen's party did not last long, for the Duke of York raised an army and marched towards London, intending to take the king by surprise.

Henry had courage, but he could not bear to shed the blood of his subjects; however, there was no help for it now, so he made his headquarters at St. Albans, with not more than two thousand men. The Earl of Warwick commenced the attack, and the battle, which lasted only one hour, was a desperate one, large numbers being slain on both sides. The king was wounded in the neck, but continued to fight until left alone under the royal banner. He then walked coolly to a baker's shop close by to have the wound attended to. The Duke of York followed him, and falling on his knees before the sovereign, said: "Rejoice! for the traitor, Somerset, is slain." Henry replied: "For God's sake stop the slaughter of my subjects." York then took the wounded king by the hand and led him to his apartments in the abbey of St. Albans. On the following day they went together to London.

At the approach of the Duke of York's army Margaret had retired to Greenwich with her ladies and the little prince, where she awaited the result of the battle of St. Albans with great anxiety; and when the news came of the defeat of her party, and the death of so many of her brave friends, she fainted and remained in a stupor for several hours. The king's wound was so serious that, added to the excitement of the battle, it brought a return of his disease. He was not in a condition to attend the next parliament, so the Duke of York appeared in his name.

This was a parliament made up of the queen's enemies, who naturally found great fault with her management of public affairs. They petitioned the king to appoint the Duke of York protector of the realm, and urged him so often and strongly to this step that at last he consented. No sooner was this done than the queen was advised to withdraw to some quiet spot with her husband and child. She was glad to comply, for her mind was so filled with these objects of her care that she did not feel capable of any other duties. She removed to Greenwich Palace, where she devoted herself to the nursing of the king and the education of her boy. But while there she received frequent visits from the princes of the Lancaster family and the young Tudors, Henry's half brothers. Besides these, a band of brave young nobles and gentlemen gathered around her, panting to avenge the blood of their fathers who had fallen at St. Albans. These so strengthened the Red Rose party that as soon as the king's health improved Margaret felt it her duty to present him again at parliament. She therefore held a meeting of her friends and made all the arrangements for this step.

A.D. 1456. When King Henry entered the House of Lords, and addressed them in a calm, dignified speech, telling them that since by the blessing of God his health was so far restored that the kingdom no longer needed a protector, they were so taken by surprise that they immediately consented to his resuming the reins of government. The Duke of York had not heard of this new move of Queen Margaret's, and happened to be absent. When an order reached him next day, signed by the king, requesting him to resign his office, he was so chagrined that he retired to the country. Henry Beaufort, heir to the late Duke of Somerset, was then appointed prime minister.

The poor queen had her hands full, for not only was she obliged to keep constantly prompting her husband how to act, but she took great pains to amuse him and to preserve in him a calm, peaceful state of mind. Minstrels were gathered from all parts of the country, and well paid for reciting and playing to him, and daily requests came from nobles and other subjects for leave to go on pilgrimages to the different shrines to pray for his health. This had a very soothing influence and filled King Henry's mind with hope.

Margaret showed a great deal of wisdom and prudence in the way she exercised her power at this time, and feeling a desire to know whether she was popular with her subjects, she resolved to travel with the king and the little prince through some of the midland counties and spend a short time at Coventry. Everywhere the royal party were received with great enthusiasm, and processions were got up in their honor. Margaret won her way to all hearts that were not prejudiced against her, and during her stay at Coventry the citizens became so devoted to her that the name of their town was changed to "Margaret's Safe Harbor."

Now the French and Scotch thought that as there were two parties in England it was a good time to attack them, but they made a great mistake, for although the nation were divided among themselves, they became one as soon as a foreign power dared to attack them. A general congress of the two parties was called, and presided over by the lord-mayor, who was appointed guardian of the public peace. A treaty was formed after two months of debate and quarrel, when the king and queen made a public entry into London. The feast of the Annunciation was kept as a day of public thanksgiving for the peace that reigned between the houses of York and Lancaster, and when the procession was formed to march to St. Paul's Cathedral, the earls who had been the deadliest foes headed it, walking arm in arm. The king followed alone, and just behind him came the Duke of York, leading Margaret by the hand. All appeared to be on the most loving terms, and the happiness of the citizens of London manifested itself in their cheering, bonfires and other signs of rejoicing. This patched-up, make-believe peace lasted only a short time, for the Duke of York was at that time lord admiral of the whole English navy, and with so much power he was not likely to remain long inactive.

A.D. 1459. The following year the queen made a tour through some of the counties of England with her husband, for the benefit of his health, as she said, though her real object was to gain favor for her son, then a most engaging child of six years. So well did she succeed that at the battle of Bloreheath, which was fought shortly after, ten thousand men wore the Prince of Wales' livery. King Henry was dangerously ill when this battle was fought. The Yorkists were victorious, and their leader boldly asserted his right to the crown.

But Margaret was not crushed by defeat; on the contrary, her energies were aroused, and she determined to take up arms herself to fight the cause of her husband and son. The warlike blood of Charlemagne was thrilling in her veins, and she was the countrywoman of Joan of Arc, who had proved herself such a successful warrior. She went to Coventry, where she succeeded in getting together another army. By this time the king's health had so far improved that she persuaded him to march to Ludlow and meet the Duke of York on the battle-field.

In the meantime Margaret had so increased her popularity that many of the Yorkist soldiers refused to fight against her husband. The duke was taken aback at this, and circulated a report of the king's death, and caused a mass to be sung in camp for the repose of his soul. Hearing of this, the queen caused a pardon to be proclaimed in the king's name for all who would return to their allegiance. The Yorkist leaders did not believe in this offer of pardon until Henry, urged on by his courageous wife, advanced to the very gates of Ludlow Castle and proclaimed it again. Then so many soldiers of the other side deserted that the duke made his escape and went to Calais, leaving his wife and her two younger sons to defend the castle. They were taken prisoners, and the whole town was destroyed.

Margaret was delighted with the success of her first campaign, but she did not enjoy her triumph very long, for the Earl of Warwick, who was a more determined enemy than York, brought a band of experienced soldiers from Calais, and gathering all his forces, made a tremendous charge on the Lancaster troops, killing ten thousand of them in two short hours, and capturing King Henry. The queen was stationed near enough to receive the dreadful news within an hour, and made her escape with her son to a fortress in the north of Wales, where she was honorably received and protected by a courageous chieftain of that country. Nobody knew where she was hidden, not even the king, who was taken to London and carefully guarded.

As soon as York heard of the victory of his party he entered the city of London at the head of five hundred horsemen, with a sword of state borne before him. He rode straight to Westminster, and, entering the House of Lords, walked to the throne, and laid his right hand on it with a look around among the peers that implied he awaited an invitation to take his seat there. Not a word was spoken. At length the Archbishop of Canterbury broke the dead silence, and asked him, "if he would be pleased to visit the king."

"I know of no one in the realm who ought not rather to visit me," he replied, haughtily, and left the house.

The peers then referred it to Henry to decide whether he or the Duke of York had the legal claim to the throne. He replied: "My father was king; his father was also king; I have worn the crown forty years from my cradle; you have all sworn fealty to me as your sovereign, and your fathers have done the like to my father and grandfather. How, then, can my right be disputed?" Nevertheless, the king agreed that if he were permitted to wear the crown during his life, he would resign it, at his death, to the Duke of York or his heirs. He was next compelled to order the return of his wife and son.

All the fire in Margaret's nature was aroused at hearing how the rights of her boy had been surrendered, but she was without an army, and what could she do? Suddenly it occurred to her to seek assistance from the King of Scotland. He was the son of a Lancaster princess, and his wife was a friend and relation of Margaret. She caused a report to be circulated that she was raising an army in France, then went secretly to Scotland, and within eight days after her husband's order for return had been received she crossed the Scottish border at the head of the forces she had gathered there, and unfurled the banner of the Red Rose. Her numbers were increased by knights from all the northern counties of England, and before the leaders of the White Rose party were aware of her being in the country at all, she presented herself at the gates of York.

The duke was so taken by surprise at this bold movement on the part of the queen that he shut himself up in his strong Castle of Sandal to await the arrival of his son. But Margaret followed him up, and defied him day after day to meet her in the field, calling him a coward for being afraid of a woman, until he arranged his forces for battle, hoping to

frighten her away. He soon saw his mistake though, for Margaret was not in the least daunted at the sight of his warriors. She did not play the Amazon herself by fighting, but she directed her own forces, under the command of Somerset, in such a way as to enclose the Yorkists from all sides in a net, as it were, and in less than half an hour two thousand of them lay dead on the field, the duke himself among the number. Lord Clifford cut off the dead leader's head, crowned it with paper, and presented it on the point of his lance to Queen Margaret, saying: "Madam, your war is done; here is your king's ransom."

She shuddered at first and turned away, then suddenly remembering all the trouble this man had given her, she looked again and smiled in satisfaction. She then ordered the head to be placed over the gates of York, and that of the Earl of Salisbury, who was her prisoner, to be placed beside it, adding, that room must be left for those of the Earls of March, York's son, and Warwick, which she intended should keep them company. This was a grave mistake, and added much to the fury of her enemies, who stopped at no deed of cruelty and horror after that.

Her next step was to try to rescue her husband, for which purpose she hurried on to London. But she was met at St. Alban's by Warwick's forces leading the king in their train. A furious battle ensued, but Margaret's stout northern soldiers were too much for the Londoners, and when night came all the Yorkists fled, leaving the king behind. One of his attendants hastened to the queen's quarters to inform her that her lord was near, whereupon she flew to embrace him. Accompanied by the Prince of Wales and some of the northern lords, they went to the Abbey church of St. Albans to return thanks to God for the king's deliverance. They were received by the abbot and monks, who prepared apartments for them in the abbey, where they remained for a while. But Margaret's better feelings were all changed by the hard experience she had had, and in her desire for further vengeance she made so many mistakes that she turned the good-will of the Londoners towards her into hatred, and they refused to let her enter the city. So she removed with her troops towards the northern counties, her husband and son accompanying her. Then Edward of York entered London in triumph. He was received by the citizens as their deliverer, and proclaimed king by the voice of the people under the title of Edward IV.

This was considered the death-blow to the house of Lancaster, but not by the persistent Margaret, who in the course of a few days rallied an army of sixty thousand men. Her generals, Somerset and Clifford, persuaded her to stay with her husband and son, while they engaged Edward and the Earl of Warwick, first at Ferrybridge and then at Towton. A heavy snow-storm that fell in the faces of the Lancastrians so blinded them that their arrows did not take effect, while those of their enemy covered the field with forty thousand of their dead.

Margaret fled to Scotland, and Edward IV. forbade all his subjects under pain of death to hold any sort of communication with her or her husband; yet there were many faithful hearts ready to sacrifice life and fortune to the heroine of the Red Rose. She and Louis XI., then on the throne of France, were first cousins, and had been brought up together. To him she now turned for aid, but he received her coldly when she threw herself at his feet, merely offering her a sum of money providing she would give him Calais if she could not return it within a year. The people of England objected to this, and thought that as Calais was not hers to give she had committed treason in making the promise.

After five months' absence she returned to England with two thousand volunteers, obtained more assistance from the Scotch, and got possession of several important fortresses.

In the spring the battle of Hexham was fought, the Yorkists being victorious. Margaret fled with her son to the nearest forest, where, after wandering about for awhile, she fell in with a gang of robbers, who stole everything of value that she had about her. While they were quarrelling over the division of the spoils, she snatched up her boy and ran away to the nearest thicket. When evening came on she crept out of her hiding-place, dreading above all things lest she might fall in with a band of Edward's troops, when by the light of the moon she beheld a robber of gigantic size advancing towards her with a drawn sword. Taking her son by the hand she bravely advanced towards the man with all her natural dignity of bearing and said: "Here, my friend, save the son of your king." The robber was struck with astonishment, and dropping his sword, offered to conduct them to a place of safety, telling the queen that he was a Lancastrian gentleman who had been ruined in King Henry's service. Taking the prince in his arms he led Queen Margaret to a cave in the forest, where his wife received them and provided refreshments. There the fugitives remained for two days. On the third their hiding-place was discovered by the devoted followers who were determined to stand by Margaret to the very end. These were Pierre de Brezé, one of her own countrymen, his squire, Barville, and an English gentleman.

A.D. 1463. From them Margaret heard of the escape of her husband and of the dreadful fate of her faithful friends, Somerset, Hungerford, and Roos, who had been captured and beheaded in the public market-place of Hexham without trial.

On leaving the hut of the generous outlaw, the queen thanked him and his wife with tears in her eyes. Her friends had offered them money, which they had refused, and Margaret had nothing left to give them. "Of all I have lost," she said, "I regret nothing so much as the power to recompense such virtue." She then proceeded to Scotland, reaching there only after a great deal of hardship and danger, to find that her presence caused great uneasiness to the king, who feared that it might be the means of bringing him into trouble with England.

She embarked for Flanders, where some of the ladies of the court had taken refuge, accompanied by the prince, the faithful de Brezé, and about two hundred of those ruined Lancastrians who still had faith in her.

When she arrived at St. Pol, the Duke of Burgundy not only received her with honors and gave a festival to welcome her, but he also assisted her with money. To each of her ladies he presented a hundred crowns, to de Brezé, who had spent the whole of his fortune in Margaret's service, a thousand, and to the queen herself an order for twelve thousand crowns. This princely behavior on the part of the duke was like heaping coals of fire on Margaret's head, for she had always despised him, and had been heard to say more than once, "that if by any chance he were to fall into her hands she would make the axe pass between his head and his shoulders." He sympathized with her misfortunes, and entertained her in a way becoming her station, but he would give her no political aid nor allow any of his subjects to take part in her quarrel. As his guest she was welcome so long as she chose to stay, and when she left he provided her with an escort.

Margaret next visited her sister Yolante, Countess of Vaudemonte, and then her father offered one of his ancient castles in Verdun for her residence, where, with a few of her ruined friends, she devoted herself to the education of the last tender bud of the Red Rose of Lancaster.

After King Henry's escape at the battle of Hexham, he wandered about, hiding himself in the house of one friend or another, but most of the time in a cave, until he was betrayed by a monk, and taken to London under arrest. There he was treated most brutally by a mob, and after being led through the streets by the Earl of Warwick, who kept shouting "Treason, treason, and behold the traitor!" he was locked up in the Tower.

It seems that Edward IV. still feared Margaret's power in England, for he had the coasts guarded to prevent her return, and put to the torture several persons who were only suspected of having assisted her with money.

Two years later there was a great change in the politics of England, and the Earl of Warwick took up arms to drive the king from his throne. But he failed and was obliged to fly to France, where Louis received him. Now Margaret's relations saw a chance for regaining for her the throne she had lost, so they all united in trying to bring about an interview between her and her bitter enemy. At first she shuddered at the thought of ever seeing him, but when he became very humble, offered the most plausible excuses for his conduct, and swore to defend her and her son with all the power he had once used in opposing them, she consented to pardon him and influenced her son to do the same. The Earl of Oxford also obtained her pardon.

Prince Edward was then eighteen years of age, and had fallen in love with Anne, the Earl of Warwick's second daughter. Margaret did all she could to oppose this match, but she was at last won over, and the marriage was solemnized the following August, 1470.

In the meantime Warwick had raised an army to take to England, whither he went as soon as the wedding ceremonies were over. His wife, Queen Margaret, Prince Edward and his bride then went to Paris by invitation from

Louis XI. The streets of the city were magnificently decorated and hung with rich tapestry, and all the officers turned out in grand procession to conduct the royal party to the palace of St. Paul, that had been fitted up for their reception. It was there that news came of the landing of the Earl of Warwick in England, and of his success in liberating King Henry and placing him on the throne once more.

A.D. 1471. Then Margaret with all her party resolved to return. In February the preparations were completed, and the fleet set sail from Harfleur. But wind and weather were against them, and after three times being driven back to the coast of Normandy, with great damage to the ships, they resolved to wait.

When at last they were able to sail again, they were sixteen days and nights making a voyage that usually took twelve hours. After landing, they repaired to an abbey, where they were celebrating Easter when the dreadful news came of the death of Warwick and the recapture of King Henry.

For the first time in her life the poor queen was completely crushed, and wished she might die rather than live for the misery that was yet in store for her. Some of the Lancastrian nobles sought her out, and expressed their intention of continuing the fight against Edward IV., and at last so aroused her from the despondent state into which she had fallen that she consented to aid them. Placing herself at the head of an army that they had raised, she marched thirty-seven miles in one day, and met her enemy within a mile of Tewksbury.

When all arrangements were made for the battle, Margaret rode about the field from rank to rank, encouraging the soldiers with promises of large rewards if they won the victory. It proved a sorry day for the Lancaster cause, and when Queen Margaret saw her troops wofully defeated she fell down in a swoon. She was carried from the battlefield to a small convent near by, where her daughter-in-law and some of her ladies awaited her. She was thus spared witnessing the fall of her son, who was killed near the close of the battle; but when the dreadful truth was brought to her, she cursed King Edward and all his posterity in her agony of grief.

When this was repeated to the king, he thought of putting her to death, but with a refinement of cruelty that was even worse, he forced her and the unfortunate Princess of Wales to take part in his triumphal entry to London. Margaret was then shut up in the dismal prison where her husband had been for five years, but she beheld him never again, for he was murdered the very night of her arrival in the gloomy fortress of the Tower.

King René sacrificed his inheritance of Provence to Louis XI. for the liberation of his daughter Margaret. Then an agreement having been made between the Kings of France and England for her ransom, in August, 1475, she landed in France, with three ladies and seven gentlemen sent by her father to escort her. Thirty years before she had left the shores of her native land a monarch's bride in all the pride and flush of youthful beauty; she returned a broken-hearted, childless widow, for whose afflictions it was treason to shed a tear.

"Ambition, pride, the rival names

Of York and Lancaster,

With all their long-contested claims,

What were they then to her?"

A.D. 1479. She died in the fifty-first year of her age, and was buried in the Cathedral of Angers, in the same tomb with her royal parents.