The Strife of the Roses and Days of the Tudors in the West Part 14

Morton, who is described as being "a very wise, politic person, a man of learning, and of a winning behaviour," did not allow his host to remain long inactive and unattacked with regard to the great scheme he had in view. Within the influence of such a mind, Buckingham, weak, vacillating, ambitious, and unscrupulous, would literally be nowhere, and so it turned out.

On his arrival at the Castle, Buckingham, it is said, was still full of the praises of Richard. In a qualified sense this was probably so; Morton comprehended the situation at once; he had probably antic.i.p.ated it, and was prepared with his plans. The argument the astute ecclesiastic used was double-edged. He knew it would not be safe to depreciate Richard's character alone without some compensating, alluring set-off; and so he coupled with it the inevitably unsettling--the prelude to convincing--one to minds const.i.tuted as Buckingham's,--that of flattering his vanity with the vision of rivals.h.i.+p, by setting forth the equal if not superior claim to the highest dignity, he possessed, both in disposition, wisdom, and birth; supplemented by a contrasted view of Richard's atrocious wickedness, and unprincipled usurpation. Not that Morton really wished or desired such a thing, as the sequel proved, because a s.h.i.+ft of this nature would be only exchanging the bad for as bad; but if he could alienate Buckingham from Richard half the battle would be won, the ultimate design would take care of itself, and may be unfolded in due time. So the fly played with the spider; and, said the Bishop to his gaoler-host,--

"As for the late Protector, since he is now King, I do not intend to dispute his t.i.tle; however for the good of the realm he governs (of which I am a poor member) I was about to wish, that to the good qualities he possesses, it had pleased G.o.d to have added some of those excellent virtues, requisite for the governing a kingdom, which are so conspicuous in the person of your Grace."[23]

[23] _More._

So Morton is said to have whetted Buckingham's appet.i.te and appealed to his pride, and the Duke, as a matter of course, wished to hear further of the mind of his adroit and agreeable prisoner, promising the utmost secrecy in all things concerned, on a subject evidently congenial to him. Morton soon discovered this, and growing bolder, placed in striking and flattering contrast the superior qualities of his host, compared with the evil and cruel characteristics of Richard, under whom "if he at any time is suspicious of his fidelity to him, no man is sure of his own life," and continued he,--

"to conclude this discourse, I conjure you by your love to G.o.d, your ill.u.s.trious line, and your native country, to take the imperial crown of this realm upon you, to restore this kingdom to its antient splendor, and deliver it from the violence of the oppressor. I dare affirm if the Turk stood in compet.i.tion with this b.l.o.o.d.y tyrant, this killer of infants, the people of England would prefer him to Richard who now sits upon the throne. How much more then would they rejoice to live under the government of so excellent a prince as your Grace? Despise not neither lose so fair an occasion of saving yourself and your country."[24]

[24] "_Continuation_," from Hall and Hollinshead's Chronicles.

Thus much for the preliminary portion of the prelate's speech, to enlist the ear of his auditor, and then he added, what he intended the foregoing adulation should lead up to,--

"But if you will not yourself accept the sovereignty of this kingdom, if the toils and hazards of a crown, prevail over you more than the charms of power, I entreat you by the faith you owe to G.o.d, by your affection to the place that gave you birth, and to the English nation; that you will in your high and princely wisdom think of some means of advancing such a good governor, as you shall appoint to rule and govern them. All the hopes of the people of England are in you, and to you only can they fly for succour. If you could set up the house of Lancaster once more, or marry the eldest daughter of king Edward to some great and potent prince, the new King would not long enjoy his usurped empire, all civil war would cease, domestic discord would sleep, and universal peace and profit be the blessings of this n.o.ble land."[25]

[25] "_Continuation_," from Hall and Hollinshead's Chronicles.

This candid statement appears to have been a _poser_ for Buckingham, who, it is added, "continued silent some time," at which the Bishop in his turn "changed colour, and was very much confused," expecting the Duke to have warmly coincided; who, "perceiving the Bishop's affright, bade him fear nothing, and they would have further talk on the morrow, but now 'let us go to supper.'"

The Duke sent for Morton the next day, and not being quite easy and sure within himself, bade the Bishop rehea.r.s.e the whole matter over again. This done, Buckingham "pulled off his hat, and made a sort of prayer," which being ended, "he then put on his hat, and applied himself to the Bishop."

Buckingham's reply to Morton was a kind of declaration and confession combined. He began with a similar strain of profession of regard toward the Bishop, having always found him "a sure friend, a trusty counsellor, and a vigilant statesman," and as the Bishop had so unreservedly opened his mind to him, he would reciprocate the confidence. And so he began by declaring,--

"that when King Edward died, to whom I thought I was very little obliged (though he and I had married two sisters), because he neither promoted or preferred me, as I thought I deserved by my birth, and the relation I had to him; I did not much value his children's interest, having their father's ill usage still in my mind."

and also that it would be of "ill consequence" to the nation, for the young King to govern, with his mother for Regent, and all her family, who were persons of "no high descent" occupying the most important positions, and have more share in the government than the King's relations and the other persons who were of the "very highest quality"

in the kingdom, and so,--

"for these reasons I thought it to be for the public welfare, and my private advantage to side with the Duke of Gloucester, whom I took to be as sincere and merciful, as I now find him to be false and cruel. By my means, as you know well, he was made Protector of the King, and Kingdom."

That after this Gloucester produced to him and others "instruments witnessed by doctors, proctors, and notaries," shewing that Edward's children were b.a.s.t.a.r.ds, and himself the rightful heir to the throne, which they believed to be true, and so took him for their "rightful prince and sovereign," and it was by his a.s.sistance he was made King, at which time

"he promised me at Baynards-Castle, laying his hand on mine, that the two young Princes should live and be provided for, to mine and everyone's satisfaction. When he was in possession of the throne he forgot his friends, and the a.s.surances he had given them, and denied to grant my pet.i.tion for part of the Earl of Hereford's lands, which his brother wrongfully detained from me.

And when I was certainly informed of the death of the two innocent Princes, to which (G.o.d be my judge) I never consented, my blood curdled at his treason and barbarity, I abhorred the sight of him, and his company much more."

This statement as to the refusal of Richard to give him the portion of the Earl of Hereford's lands, does not accord with Dugdale's account to which we shall refer, nor with Richard's bitter exclamation of reproach when he heard of Buckingham's defection.

The Duke then continues to narrate how on his way homeward to Brecknock, he "meditated" how he might dethrone Richard, and that "had I a.s.sumed the supreme power, I thought there was n.o.body so likely to carry it as myself," that he sojourned two days at Tewkesbury brooding over the matter, but considered altogether "that to pretend to seat myself on the throne would not do," as in that case both the houses of York and Lancaster would join themselves against him, although he remembered,--

"that Edmund, Duke of Somerset, my grandfather, was with king Henry VI. in two or three degrees from John, Duke of Lancaster, lawfully begotten, my mother being Duke Edmund's eldest daughter, I looked on myself as next heir to Henry VI. of the house of Lancaster. But as I further journied between Worcester and Bridgenorth, I met the Lady Margaret, Countess of Richmond, at present wife to the Lord Stanley, who is the rightful and sole heir of John, Duke of Somerset, my grandfather's elder brother, whose t.i.tle I had forgot until I saw her in my way, and then I remembered that both her claim, and her son the Earl of Richmond's, were bars to mine, and forbad my pretending to the crown of England."

At this interview it was proposed by the Countess that her son should marry one of king Edward's daughters, and "conjured" Buckingham, "by the memory of Duke Humphrey, his grandfather," to do his utmost to forward the match, to be eventually a solution to the present troubles, and he came to a resolution to "spend his life and fortune"

in forwarding such a "glorious design," by which, if effected, he doubted not "the proud boar, whose tusks have gored so many innocent persons, shall soon be brought to confusion, the rightful and indubitate heir enjoy the crown, and peace be restored to this distracted kingdom."

This was exactly the kind of confession Morton required, and all being agreed on, the next thing was to get some trusty envoy to send to the Countess of Richmond to concert measures. He was soon found in the person of Sir Reginald Braye, who was despatched to her with the announcement of Buckingham and Morton's design, and to get her to communicate with the Queen-Mother and acquire her a.s.sent and adherence to the project. This the Countess effected through the medium of Dr.

Lewis, her physician, and the Queen-Mother readily a.s.sented, on the stipulated condition that the Earl of Richmond married her daughter Elizabeth, and failing her, the next eldest, Cecilia.

Morton having taken captive the mind, if not the person of his gaoler, now wished the Duke to set him at liberty, and let him go to his diocese in Ely, where his friends would preserve him from any violence of Richard's,--"once I find myself at Ely," said he to Buckingham, "with four days start of Richard, I am ready to defy all his malice."

The Duke however had no mind to lose so good an adviser, and did not wish him to leave, but Morton was determined to be gone if he could, and so stole away from Brecknock Castle in disguise, and doubtless without the Duke's knowledge.

It is rather difficult to estimate Morton's action on this occasion.

The secret was out, the measures were concerted, and would soon get wind; was he afraid of Richard's vengeance? By his leaving Buckingham thus, he greatly compromised the Duke if their plans failed, and left him to certain destruction, while he would be in safety. With great rapidity he crossed from Brecknock to Ely, a hundred and seventy miles, and thence to Wisbech, and with money and men he had collected from his great works in the Fens, took s.h.i.+pping and got safely over to Flanders, and the first intelligence Richard had of his flight, was that he was in Brittany with the Earl of Richmond. Richard doubtless was fully alive to the threatened danger, and Shakspeare well imagines his apprehension in the words,--

"Ely with Richmond troubles me more near Than Buckingham with all his rash-levied strength."

Matters now proceeded apace toward the development of the movement.

Sir Reginald Braye, as the trusty amba.s.sador, had won over Sir Giles Daubeney, Sir John Cheney, Sir Richard Guilford, and others, and with these were the Courtenays, Sir Edward, afterward Earl of Devon, and Bishop Peter Courtenay, Sir Robert Willoughby, afterward Lord Broke, Sir Thomas Arundell, and Sir Thomas Brandon, these were to _rendez-vous_ at or near Salisbury: the Marquis of Dorset had left his sanctuary, and with his uncle Sir Richard Widville had gone to the north. Dr. Christopher Urswick, Chaplain to the Countess, and Thomas Rame, had been despatched by her by different routes to Brittany to apprise her son of the complexion of the movement, and he was to appear off the western coast with a fleet and men to land in aid.

Richard, of course, soon found out the character of the insurrection and those implicated in it. To Buckingham he first sent a "very kind obliging letter," inviting him to come to London, but the Duke "pretended indisposition," and so excused himself. The King thereon being enraged, sent him "a letter in a rougher stile, commanding him on his allegiance to attend him." But the die was cast, matters had gone too far to recede, and the message was returned by the Duke, "that he would not expose himself to his mortal enemy, whom he neither loved nor would serve."

Buckingham gathered together as soon as possible his "rash-levied"

strength. These consisted of a number of his tenants and a host of ill-disciplined Welshmen, and he endeavoured by long marches, pa.s.sing through the Forest of Dean, to get to Gloucester, and thence onward to join the western contingent. The Earl of Richmond set sail from Brittany, the twelfth of October, with a fleet of forty s.h.i.+ps and five thousand Bretons on board. They appear to have at once encountered a storm, which dispersed the fleet, but

"the s.h.i.+p in which was the Earl in person, was driven on the coast of England, to the mouth of the haven of Poole, in Dorsets.h.i.+re; where, finding the sh.o.r.e was crowded with troops to oppose his descent, he forbad any of his men to land until the whole navy came up. However he sent out his boat with some officers to demand of the men who stood on the sh.o.r.e, whether they were friends or enemies? These traitors instructed by king Richard, answered, 'They were friends posted there by the Duke of Bucks to receive the Earl of Richmond.' The Earl suspecting the deceit, and perceiving he was alone, the rest of his fleet not appearing, weighed anchor, returned to France, and landed in Normandy."

But how fared Buckingham and his motley host? Not only circ.u.mstances, but Nature fought against him. The river Severn, swollen by ten days continuous rain, overflowed all the adjoining country, doing immense damage, and the inundation was so large, and of such remarkable character, that for a hundred years afterward it was named and recollected as _The Great Water_, or _Buckingham's Water_, and tradition delivers it was so severe "that men, women, and children were carried away in their beds with the violence of it."

This inundation totally prevented the Duke and his army crossing the river, and his allies on the other side coming to his support. The Welshmen "tried with being exposed to hunger, rain, and numberless hards.h.i.+ps, returned to their homes,"--they appear to have deserted by degrees, "until at last the Duke had none left about him but his domestic servants, nor could prayers nor threats keep them together, so he was obliged to fly with the rest."

Thus prematurely ended this unfortunate movement, and Buckingham fled for refuge and secrecy to the house of his old servant, Ralph Banister, to whom himself, and his father before him, had shewn many acts of kindness.

Richard had gone down north to organize an army to meet the insurrection, and on the twelfth of October was at Lincoln, to see the Bishop, who however was absent and sick. Here the King sent him a letter to the following intent,--

By the KING.

"Right Reverend Fadre in G.o.d, and Right trusty and wellbeloved; We grete you wele, and in our hertiest wyse thank you for the manyfold Presentes that your Servantes in your behalve have presented unto Us at this oure being here: which we a.s.sure you we toke and accepted with good hert; and so we have cawse. And whereas We by G.o.ddes Grace intend briefly to avaunce us towards our Rebel and Traitor the Duc of Buckingham, to resiste and withstand his malicious purpose, as lately by our other Letters We certifyed you oure mynd more at large; For which Cause it behoveth us to have our grete Sele here, We being enfourmed, that for such Infirmities and Deseases as ye susteyne ne may in your person to your ease conveniently come unto us with the same: Wherefore we will, and natheless charge you that forthwith upon the sight of thies, yee saufly do the same our grete Sele to be sent unto us; and such of th'office of oure Chauncery as by your Wisedome shall be thought necessary, receiving these oure Letters for youre sufficient Discharge in that behalve. Yeven under oure Signet at oure Cite of Lincolne the xii day of Octobre."

To which Richard with his own hand, added this remarkable and significant postscript,--

"We wolde most gladly ye came your selff, yf that ye may, and yf ye may not, we pray you not to fayle, but to accomplyshe in al dyllygence oure sayd commaundement, to send oure Seale incontinent apon the syght hereof, as we truste you with such as ye truste, and the Officers parteyning, to attend with hyt; praying you to ascerteyn us of your Newes ther. Here loved be G.o.d, is al wel, and trewly determyned, and for to resiste the Malyse of him, that had best Cawse to be trew, the Duc of Bokyngham the most untrew Creature lyvynge. Whom with G.o.ds Grace we shall not be long til that we wyll be in that parties, and subdew his Malys. Wee a.s.sure you there was never falsre Traitor purvayde for, as this Berrer Gloucester shal shew you."

What Richard was in such hurry to get his Great Seal for, was manifest at Leicester. Here, on the twenty-third of the month, he issued a proclamation against the rebels, and offering rewards for their apprehension. For Buckingham it was a thousand pounds in money, or a hundred pounds yearly in land, for the Marquis of Dorset and the Bishops of Ely and Salisbury a thousand marks in money each, or one hundred marks in land, and smaller sums for knights and gentlemen of lesser degree. His reprobation appears to have been specially directed against the Marquis of Dorset, "who, at the perill of his soule, hath many and sundry maids, widows, and wives, d.a.m.nably, and without shame, deflowered and defiled." The next day at Coventry,--

"In order to make short work, and avoid the usual formalities of the courts of justice, he commissioned Sir Ralph Ashton to exercise the office of Vice-Constable, with so extensive a power, that he could condemn and execute on the spot, all persons whatever, guilty or suspected of the crime of high-treason, without having regard to any appeal."

Ashton, who was probably a man after his master's heart, took summary vengeance on the dispersed insurrectionists, and coming into the western counties signalized his zeal by numerous executions of those adjudged by him guilty, or only of favouring the conspirators; antic.i.p.ating in spirit and action the b.l.o.o.d.y campaign of the detestable Jeffreys, on a similar errand two centuries afterward.

"It is better to trust in the Lord, than to put confidence in man, than to put confidence in princes;"--had ever the royal Psalmist's words truer interpretation than in the fate of Buckingham, whom we left hiding with his servant near Shrewsbury? Alas for the fidelity of servants when exposed to temptation; but is not falseness ever the attribute of servitude? Instead of the n.o.ble self-denial of sheltering and befriending his old master and friend, the glittering prize of a thousand pounds was within his grasp, the position of being a petty squire with a "manor of land" was before his eyes, and the temptation proved to be too much for "Maister Rauf Banistre," who, casting the eternal odium that would inseparably be attached to such conduct to the winds, went and betrayed the whereabouts of his master to John Milton, Esq., then Sheriff of Shrops.h.i.+re, who with a party of soldiery surrounded and searched the locality, apprehended him in a little grove near Banister's house, and conveyed him to Shrewsbury.

After a short confinement there, the Duke by royal order was delivered over to the custody of Sir James Tyler and another knight; and, "appareled in a piled black cloak," was escorted to Salisbury.

Richard who was pursuing his journey southward, had probably reached Salisbury before his prisoner had arrived.

No time was lost in dealing with the n.o.ble captive. His fate had already been foreshadowed in Richard's postscript to the Bishop,--

"When this arm of mine hath chastised The petty rebel, dull-brained Buckingham."