As Richard said this, he pulled up the sleeve of his doublet to the elbow, to let the company look at his arm. This arm had always been weak, and smaller than the other.
"See," said he, "what they are doing to me."
He meant that by the power of necromancy they had made an image of wax as an effigy of him, according to the mode explained in a previous chapter, and were now melting it away by slow degrees in order to destroy his life, and that his arm was beginning to pine and wither away in consequence.
[Ill.u.s.tration: THE COUNCIL IN THE TOWER.]
The lords knew very well that the state in which they saw Richard"s arm was its natural condition, and that, consequently, his charge against the queen and Jane Sh.o.r.e was only a pretense, which was to be the prelude and excuse for some violent measures that he was about to take. They scarcely knew what to say. At last Lord Hastings replied,
"Certainly, my lord, if they have committed so heinous an offense as this, they deserve a very heinous punishment."
"If!" repeated the Protector, in a voice of thunder. "And thou servest me, then, it seems, with _ifs_ and _ands_. I tell thee that they _have_ so done--and I will make what I say good upon thy body, traitor!"
He emphasized and confirmed this threat by bringing down his fist with a furious blow upon the table.
This was one of the signals which he had agreed upon with the people that he had stationed without at the door of the council hall. A voice was immediately heard in the ante-chamber calling out Treason. This was again another signal. It was a call to a band of armed men whom Richard had stationed in a convenient place near by, and who were to rush in at this call. Accordingly, a sudden noise was heard of the rushing of men and the clanking of iron, and before the councilors could recover from their consternation the table was surrounded with soldiery, all "in harness," that is, completely armed, and as fast as the foremost came in and gathered around the table, others pressed in after them, until the room was completely full.
Richard, designating Hastings with a gesture, said suddenly, "I arrest thee, traitor."
"What! _me_, my lord?" exclaimed Hastings, in terror.
"Yes, thee, traitor."
Two or three of the soldiers immediately seized Hastings and prepared to lead him away. Other soldiers laid hands upon several of the other n.o.bles, such as Richard had designated to them beforehand. These, of course, were the leading and prominent men of the party opposed to Richard"s permanent ascendency. Most of these men were taken away and secured as prisoners in various parts of the Tower. As for Hastings, Richard, in a stern and angry manner, advised him to lose no time in saying his prayers, "for, by the Lord," said he, "I will not to dinner to-day till I see thy head off."
Then, after a brief delay, to allow the wretched man a few minutes to say his prayers, Richard nodded to the soldiers to signify to them that they were to proceed to their work. They immediately took their victim out to a green by the side of the Tower, and, laying him down with his neck across a log which they found there, they cut off his head with a broad-axe.
[Ill.u.s.tration: POMFRET CASTLE.]
The same day Richard sent off a dispatch to the north, directed to the men who had in charge the Earl Rivers, and the other friends of the king who had been made prisoners when the king was seized at Stony Stratford, ordering them all to be beheaded. The order was immediately obeyed.
The person who had charge of the execution of this order was a stern and ruffian-like officer named Sir Richard Ratcliffe. This man is quite noted in the history of the times as one of the most unscrupulous of Richard"s adherents. He was a merciless man, short and rude in speech, and reckless in action, dest.i.tute alike of all pity for man and of all fear of G.o.d.
The place where the prisoners had been confined was Pomfret Castle.[M]
On receiving the orders from Richard, Ratcliffe led them out to an open place without the castle wall to be beheaded. The executioners brought a log and an axe, and the victims were slaughtered one after another, without any ceremony, and without being allowed to say a word in self-defense.
[Footnote M: Called sometimes Pontefract.]
The whole country was shocked at hearing of these sudden and terrible executions; but the power was in Richard"s hands, and there was no one capable of resisting him. The death of the leaders of what would have been the young king"s party struck terror into the rest, and Richard now had every thing in his own hands, or, rather, _almost_ every thing; for the queen and her family, being still in the sanctuary, were beyond his reach. He, however, had nothing to fear from her personally, and there were none of the children that gave him any concern except the Duke of York, the king"s younger brother. He, you will recollect, was with his mother at Westminster when the king was seized, and she had taken him with the other children to the Abbey.
Richard was now extremely desirous of getting possession of this boy.
The reason why he deemed it so essential to get possession of him was this. The child was, it is true, of little consequence while his brother the king lived; but if the king were put out of the way, then the thoughts and the hearts of all the loyal people of England, Richard knew very well, would be turned toward York as the rightful successor. But if they could both be put out of the way, and if the people of England could be induced to consider Clarence"s children as set aside by the attainder of their father, then he himself would come forward as the true and rightful heir to the crown. It is true that it was a part of his plan, as has already been said, to declare the marriage of Elizabeth Woodville with the king null, and thus cut off both these children of Edward from their right of inheritance; but he knew very well that even if a majority of the people of England were to a.s.sent to this, there would certainly be a minority that would refuse their a.s.sent, and would adhere to the cause of the children, and they, if the children should fall into their hands, might, at some future time, make themselves very formidable to him, and threaten very seriously the permanence of his dominion. It was quite necessary, therefore, he thought, that he should get both children into his own power.
"I must," said he to himself, therefore, "I must, in some way or other, and at all hazards, get possession of little Richard."
It is always the policy of usurpers, and of all ambitious and aspiring men who wish to seize and hold power which does not properly belong to them, to carry the various measures necessary to the attainment of their ends, especially those likely to be unpopular, not by their own personal action, but by the agency of others, whom they put forward to act for them. Richard proceeded in this way in the present instance.
He called a grand council of the peers of the realm and great officers of state, and caused the question to be brought up there of removing the young Duke of York from the custody of his mother to that of the Protector, in order that he might be with his brother. The peers who were in Richard"s interest advocated this plan; but all the bishops and archbishops, who, of course, as ecclesiastics, had very high ideas of the sacredness and inviolability of a sanctuary, opposed the plan of taking the duke away except by the consent of his mother.
The other side argued in reply to them that a sanctuary was a place where persons could seek refuge to escape punishment in case of crime, and that where no crime could have been committed, and no charges of crime were made, the principle did not apply. In other words, that the sanctuary was for men and women who had been guilty, or were supposed to have been guilty, of violations of law; but as children could commit no crime for which an asylum was necessary, the privileges of sanctuary did not extend to them.
This view of the subject prevailed. The bishops and archbishops were outvoted, and an order in council was pa.s.sed authorizing the Lord Protector to possess himself of his nephew, the Duke of York, and for this purpose to take him, if necessary, out of sanctuary by force.
Still, the bishops and archbishops were very unwilling that force should be used, if it could possibly be avoided; and finally the Archbishop of Canterbury, who was the highest prelate in the realm, proposed that a deputation from the council should be sent to the Abbey, and that he should go with them, in order to see the queen, and make the attempt to persuade her to give up her son of her own accord.
After giving notice to the abbot of their intended visit, and making an arrangement with him and with the queen in respect to the time when they could be received, the delegation proceeded in state to the Abbey on the appointed day, and were received by the abbot and by Elizabeth with due ceremony in the Jerusalem chamber, the great audience hall of the Abbey, which has already been described.
The Archbishop of Canterbury, who was at the head of the delegation, explained the case to the queen. They wished her, he said, to allow her son, the Duke of York, to leave the sanctuary, and to join his brother the king at his royal residence in the Tower. He would be perfectly safe there, he said, under the care of his uncle, the Lord Protector.
"The Protector thinks it very necessary that the duke should go,"
added the archbishop, "to be company for his brother. The king is very melancholy, he says, for want of a playfellow."
"And so the Protector," replied the queen--"G.o.d grant that he may really prove a protector--thinks that the king needs a playfellow! And can no playfellow be found for him except his brother?
"Besides," she added, "he is not in a mood to play. He is not well.
They must find some other playmate for his brother. Just as if princes, while they are so young, could not as well have some one to play with them not of their own rank, or as if a boy must have his brother, and n.o.body else for his mate, when every body knows that boys are more likely to disagree with their brothers than they are with other children."
The archbishop, in reply, proceeded to argue the case with the queen, and to represent the necessity, arising from reasons of state, why the young duke should be committed to the charge of his uncle. He explained to her, too, that the Lord Protector had been fully authorized, by a decree of the council, to come and take his nephew from the Abbey, and to employ force, if necessary, to effect the purpose, but that it would be much better, both for the queen herself and the young duke, as well as for all concerned, that the affair should be settled in a peaceable and amicable manner.
The unhappy queen saw at last that there was no alternative but for her to submit to her fate and give up her boy. Slowly and reluctantly she came to this conclusion, and finally gave her consent. Richard was brought in. His mother took him by the hand, and again addressed the archbishop and the delegation, speaking substantially as follows:
"My lord," said she, "and all my lords now present, I will not be so suspicious as to mistrust the promises you make me, or to believe that you are dealing otherwise than fairly and honorably by me. Here is my son. I give him up to your charge. I have no doubt that he would be safe here under my protection, if I could be allowed to keep him with me, although I have enemies that so hate me and all my blood, that I believe, if they thought they had any of it in their own veins, they would open them to let it flow out.
"I give him up, at your demand, to the protection of his brother and his uncle. And yet I know well that the desire of a kingdom knows no kindred. Brothers have been their brothers" bane, and can these nephews be sure of their uncle? The boys would be safe if kept asunder; together--I do not know. Nevertheless, I here deliver my son, and with him his brother"s life, into your hands, and of you shall I require them both, before G.o.d and man. I know that you are faithful and true in what you intend, and you have power, moreover, to keep the children safe, if you will. If you think that I am over-anxious and fear too much, take care that you yourselves do not fear too little."
Then drawing Richard to her, she kissed him very lovingly, the tears coming to her eyes as she did so.
"Farewell," she said, "farewell, mine own sweet son. G.o.d send you good keeping. I must kiss you before you go, for G.o.d knows when we shall kiss together again."
She kissed him again and blessed him, and then turned to go away, weeping bitterly.
The child began to weep too, from sympathy with his mother"s distress.
The archbishop, however, took him by the hand and led him away, followed by the rest of the delegation.
They conveyed the young duke first to the hall of the council, which was very near, and thence to the Lord Protector"s residence in the city. Here he was received with every mark of consideration and honor, and a handsome escort was provided to conduct him in state to the Tower, where he joined his brother.
Richard had now every thing under his own control. The delivery of the Duke of York into his hands took place on the sixteenth of June.
The time which had been set for the coronation was the twenty-second.
CHAPTER XIII.
PROCLAIMED KING.
A.D. 1483
The Duke of Buckingham.--Historical doubts.--Richard at Baynard"s Castle.--The expense-book.--Items from the expense-book.--Richard"s plans.--Richard"s determination in respect to Jane Sh.o.r.e.--Jane"s character.--Her jewelry confiscated.--The punishment of Jane Sh.o.r.e.--Alleged marriage of Edward IV. to Elinor Talbot.--Particulars of the story.--Plan for publishing it.--Sermon preached by Dr. Shaw near St. Paul"s.--Ingenious contrivance.--Coolness of the people.--Meeting at the Guildhall.--The people do not respond.--The appeals to the people fail.--Grand council convened.--Arrangements made by Buckingham.--The pet.i.tion.--Substance of the pet.i.tion.--Real object of it.--Richard receives the pet.i.tion at Baynard"s Castle.--Richard concludes to accept the crown.--Ceremonies connected with the invest.i.ture of the king.--Richard marches through London.--Is every where proclaimed king.--Extraordinary character of the reign of Edward V.