The Strife of the Roses and Days of the Tudors in the West Part 7

We have mentioned Lord Hastings had one daughter also, by his wife Katharine Neville-Bonville, named Anne, and she had to be provided for. The Marquis of Dorset had been allotted to his step-daughter Cicely Bonville, and therefore from a clause in his will we learn that he had yet another "ward and marriage to him granted," in the person of George Talbot, Earl of Shrewsbury, and if George should die, then the contract was to extend to his next brother Thomas. But George lived to marry the young lady. So these family compacts were arranged and went merrily forward. Property, honours, and influence, appear to have been the sole objects of these unnatural arrangements; love and natural predilection not considered at all, and nowhere, being evidently not deemed of the least importance,--marriage being treated in all respects as a "matter of mere attorneys.h.i.+p." And do not these transactions afford a clue to the amours and intrigues that infested the age? The vengeful results of outraged hearts, and the sure outcome.

Shakspeare well describes this 'brokerage' of marriageable maidens, in the fourth act of the third part of _Henry VI_.--

HASTINGS. 'Tis better using France than trusting France: Let us be back'd with G.o.d, and with the seas, Which he hath given for fence impregnable, And with their helps only defend ourselves; In them, and in ourselves, our safety lies.

CLARENCE. For this one speech, Lord Hastings well deserves To have the heir of the Lord Hungerford.

KING EDWARD Ay, what of that? it was my will, and grant; And, for this once, my will shall stand for law.

GLOUCESTER. And yet, methinks, your grace hath not done well, To give the heir and daughter of Lord Scales Unto the brother of your loving bride; She better would have fitted me, or Clarence: But in your bride you bury brotherhood.

CLARENCE. Or else you would not have bestow'd the heir Of the Lord Bonville on your new wife's son, And leave your brothers to go speed elsewhere.

KING EDWARD. Alas, poor Clarence! is it for a wife That thou art malcontent? I will provide thee.

CLARENCE. In choosing for yourself, you show'd your judgment; Which being shallow, you shall give me leave To play the broker in mine own behalf; And, to that end, I shortly mind to leave you.

In 1470 Hastings accompanied Edward IV. in his hasty flight from Lynn, in Norfolk, to Holland, when he also so narrowly escaped capture by the Easterlings, and the king had nothing beyond his "gown lined with martens" to pay the captain of the s.h.i.+p for his voyage. He also returned with that monarch, when he landed at Ravenspur, to reclaim the kingdom,--the place where Henry of Bolingbroke, a century and a half previously, had disembarked to dethrone Richard II. Although his wife's brother was the 'king-maker,' and engaged in the opposite interest, Hastings remained loyal to Edward IV., and at the battle of Barnet, on April 14, which ended so disastrously for Warwick, was one of the king's princ.i.p.al commanders. So also he took active part in the decisive action at Tewkesbury on 4th of May following. Then comes the darkest episode in this n.o.bleman's career. The Queen Margaret and her son, the Prince Edward, were made prisoners, and the royal youth was ushered into Edward's presence, who, flushed with success, ungenerously asked him "How he dared to invade his dominions," to which question, the answer was proudly but perhaps imprudently given, "To claim my father's crown and mine own inheritance." Stung probably by the conscious truth and n.o.bleness of the reply, Edward unmanfully struck the youth on the mouth with his gauntlet, whereon the Dukes of Clarence and Gloucester, the Lords Hastings and Dorset, taking this as a signal for further violence, hurried the prince away from Edward's presence, and despatched him with their swords. Pity evaporates over any misfortunes that may overtake men guilty of such deeds as this. In 1474 he got leave from the king to 'unpark' some seven thousand acres at Ashby-de-la-Zouch, and elsewhere, and to 'fortify' his mansions on his different manors, specially the magnificent castle he erected at Ashby. He was in the retinue of Edward at the inglorious peace of Pecquigny, and got his share of the spoil, "his French Majesty at one time making him a present of plate valued at ten thousand marks." He is said to have refused at first to accept the pension awarded him on this occasion by the king of France, but "after some courteous and friendly correspondence" consented to receive it in a left-handed way, refusing to give any receipt for it, saying, "put it (the gold) here into my sleeve, for other acknowledgment you get none from me, for no man shall say, that king Edward's Lord Chamberlain hath been pensioner to the French king, nor that my acquittances be found in his Chamber of Accounts." So these 'great' men magnanimously salved their qualms of conscience, and satisfied the questions of their pride; and it is further added, his pension was ever after paid without further acquittance.

Then came his amour, or rather pa.s.sion, for the beautiful Jane Wainstead, afterward Jane Sh.o.r.e. It is related he was smitten by her charms while still under her father's roof, and his attentions aroused the suspicions of her father, who thereupon, to save his daughter, got her suitably married to Mr. Matthew Sh.o.r.e, the goldsmith of Lombard Street. Hastings not to be baffled, followed his prey after her marriage, until on an occasion, when he attempted to pa.s.s the boundary of honour, he got indignantly discharged and interdicted all future communication. Thereon he is said, out of revenge, to have sent the royal spoiler on the track, with a success but too well known.

Hastings' old affection however appears to have survived, and at Edward's death he took her,--all sullied in reputation as she was,--under his protection, until the day of his own death, his acquaintances.h.i.+p with her being made a chief accusation against him by the relentless Gloucester.

Although so devoted to the king, Edward IV., he was by no means friendly disposed toward his Queen, Elizabeth Woodville, and at king Edward's death this dislike evidently greatly increased, which was in great measure the Queen's fault, as she manifested considerable antipathy toward the older n.o.bility, being much wrapt up in the welfare of her own family, but recently enn.o.bled. Doubtless Hastings and others saw this, and it had its due influence on them; but he was perfectly loyal to the king's children. Almost immediately after Edward's decease Hastings and Buckingham were sent for to confer with Gloucester at Northampton, the young king being then with his uncle and governor the Earl Rivers at Ludlow Castle, and his brother, the Duke of York, with the Queen-mother in London. At this meeting was urged the danger of the Queen-mother's influence, the necessity of removing the young princes from her control, the advisability of Gloucester's a.s.suming the Protectorate, and the securing and, if necessary, destroying the persons of the Rivers and Grey families as dangerous to the common peace. All this the well-pleased and astute Gloucester cleverly managed, and Hastings was sent on to London to pacify the city, where he had great influence, and when the citizens in alarm at hearing of the apprehension of Rivers and others, the young king's attendants, and that they had been sent northwards toward Pontefract, he deceived them with the a.s.surance that they were simply transported thither for conspiring against Gloucester and Buckingham, and would be duly put on their trial; and Gloucester completed the illusion by bringing the young king with much ceremony to London. Soon after, Hastings "readily gave his a.s.sent" to the execution of the Earl Rivers and others in custody at Pontefract, although still ignorant of Gloucester's final design, and still more so of the grim fate that was hanging over his own head, for it was also agreed on by those in the secret, that he himself,--whose interest for the young king was well known,--should be gained over in harmony with the project, or dispatched out of the way, if necessary.

Although Hastings does not seem to have seen through Gloucester's designs, his companion and friend Lord Stanley, "a man of deep penetration," appears to have comprehended the whole situation, and spoke his mind fully thereon to his colleagues, then a.s.sembling day by day making preparations for the young king's coronation, of which council Hastings was a member with others, the young king's friends, but Hastings, it is related, still doubted Gloucester's plotting, and also that the other council, sitting under Gloucester's presidency at Crosby Place, were engaged in no design against the young king, and that he would "p.a.w.n his life" if anything detrimental to the youthful monarch were transacted there, he should be instantly informed of it by a trusty member thereof, devoted to the king's interests; moreover he was still prepossessed of Gloucester, and believed his council were only desirous of humbling the Queen's party, whom he, Hastings, so greatly disliked.

This 'trusty member' was none other than Richard Catesby, "a lawyer, who had, through Lord Hastings' means, been placed in a position of considerable trust, in the counties of Northampton and Leicester, where Hastings' property lay," and this man, his friend and confidant as he supposed he was, eventually betrayed him. Stanley's fears, it seems, were greatly modified or allayed by Hastings' a.s.sertions, and they quietly proceeded with their arrangements for the coronation, while Gloucester was carefully doing all he could to prevent it, and secretly and busily laying his dark plans for a very different issue.

Catesby, who had become the creature of Gloucester, unknown to Hastings, was despatched by Gloucester to sound Hastings, "with all the caution imaginable," most carefully guarding the grand secret. The part was well played, and Hastings, not distrusting Catesby, told him of Stanley's suspicions, and that for himself, rather than the late king's children should be deprived of their rights, he would see ruin and destruction overtake Gloucester and Buckingham, and that he would employ every means in his power, even to his very life, to prevent its succeeding.

All this intelligence Catesby carefully transmitted to Gloucester. Its receipt appears to have greatly embarra.s.sed him, as Gloucester greatly desired to secure Hastings' adherence, knowing the importance his a.s.sistance would afford. Wis.h.i.+ng therefore to be perfectly a.s.sured of the att.i.tude Hastings was likely to a.s.sume, and to a considerable extent fearing his influence if exerted for the king, Gloucester sent Catesby to him a second time, with instructions to get as complete an answer as possible. Catesby appears to have spoken plainly in this second interview of Gloucester's designs, and to have received similar answer to that given at their first parlance, and he left Hastings with the knowledge that he had discovered Gloucester's intentions, and also revealed to him his own treachery. Gloucester in due time was made acquainted with the fact that in Hastings he had, under the circ.u.mstances, now only an adversary to deal with. The Protector's mind was soon made up, and Hastings' death resolved on; no one was to stand between him and the throne, and live.

On June 15, 1483, Gloucester called a council at the Tower, ostensibly to finish the preparations for the king's coronation. Rapin, from information condensed from the various old chroniclers, thus circ.u.mstantially describes the final scene,--

"The Protector came himself at nine o'clock in the morning with a cheerful countenance, courteously saluting the lords, as if he had nothing in his mind that gave him the least uneasiness. After that he went out and desired the council to continue their deliberations in his absence.

"About an hour after, he returned with an angry countenance, knitting his brows, and biting his lips, and shewing all possible signs of perturbation of mind. Remaining some time without speaking, he broke silence with these words,--_My Lords, what punishment do they deserve who have plotted against my life?_'

The Lords not immediately answering, Lord Hastings replied, '_Whoever is guilty of that crime ought to be punished as a traitor_.' The Duke answered, '_It is that sorceress my sister-in-law, with her accomplices_.' These words astonished many of the council who favoured the Queen, being afraid this accusation concerned them. But the Lord Hastings was far from any such fear. All knew he was a sworn enemy to the Queen, and consequently there was no likelihood of his joining her in such a design. Besides, he had lately approved of the order sent to Pontefract to behead the lords prisoners, who were to be executed that very day.

"After a short pause the Protector, unb.u.t.toning his left sleeve, shewed the Council his arm, dried and withered, saying with extreme emotion, '_See what that sorceress, and Sh.o.r.e's wife have done by their witchcrafts. They have reduced my arm as you see, and my whole body would fain have been the same, if by G.o.d's mercy their infamous plot had not been discovered._' These words caused a greater surprise than the former, the whole Council knowing the Duke's arm had long been in that condition; besides, if the Queen had framed such a project, Jane Sh.o.r.e would have been the last person she would have imparted it to, since of all women she most hated her.

"The Lord Hastings who, since Edward's death, had kept Jane Sh.o.r.e, perceiving she was involved in the accusation, could not forbear to shew how much he doubted her being guilty by saying, '_If they had committed such a crime they deserved to be punished_.'

"Then the Protector raising his voice said, '_What, dost thou answer me with 'Ifs' and 'Ands,' as if I forged this accusation?

I tell thee they have conspired my death, and thou thyself art accessory to the crime._' As he ended these words he struck the table twice with his fist, and immediately the room was filled with armed men.

"As soon as they were in, the Protector turning to Lord Hastings said to him, '_I arrest thee for High Treason.' 'Who, me, my Lord_,' answered Hastings. '_Yes, thee traitor_,' replied the Protector. At the same time he delivered him to the custody of the soldiers.

"During the bustle one of the soldiers would have cleft the Lord Stanley's skull, with a battle-axe. But he avoided part of the blow by sinking under the table, however he was dangerously wounded. Probably the soldier had orders to kill him as it were by chance, under pretence that he would have defended the Lord Hastings. It is not hard to guess why the Protector desired to be rid of him. Having missed his aim, Stanley was arrested with the Archbishop of York, and the Bishop of Ely, it being the Protector's interest to put it out of their power to hurt him, whom he knew to be zealously affected for the young king.

"As for the Lord Hastings, he would scarce give him time to make confession to the next priest that came, swearing '_By St.

Paul,--he would not dine until his head was struck off_.'

Accordingly he was beheaded upon a log that was found on the green before the Tower Chapel, the time fixed by the Protector being too short to erect a scaffold."

So miserably and brutally perished the Lady Katharine Bonville's _second_ husband, one of the chief friends and favourites of Edward IV., through the remorseless malice aforethought of that king's brother, the Duke of Gloucester. Lord Hastings was a prominent, it may be said, representative character of that age of intrigue and unscrupulous ambition. Although loyal to Edward and his sons, he was a "sworn enemy" to Queen Elizabeth Woodville, notwithstanding his wife's daughter, Cicely Bonville, was married to her eldest son, and he is said to have "greatly contributed" to the execution of the prisoners at Pontefract, Anthony, Earl Rivers, and Richard, Lord Grey, the Queen's brothers, and near relatives of his step-daughter Cicely Bonville's husband, the Marquis of Dorset; by a most remarkable retribution he was awarded a similar fate to theirs, said to have occurred on the same day, and at the same hour. His hands too are reputed to have been imbrued with the blood of Margaret of Anjou's unfortunate youthful son. His amour with Jane Sh.o.r.e was made the handle of Gloucester's accusation, and sudden and cruel as his fate was, it was perhaps merciful as compared with the suffering that was reserved for her. While Hastings, her protector, lived, her position was one of comparative safety, but at his death none dared befriend her, and true to the hideous completeness of the part Gloucester was acting, she was to be the next victim. Then the poor, frail, beautiful and withal amiable creature,--Edward used to call her the 'holiest' of his three mistresses, the other two being respectively the 'wittiest'

and the 'merriest'--one to whom a king, and 'the handsomest man in Europe' to boot, had paid court, amid unstinted opulence and luxury, was dragged forth and exposed to the gibes, jeers, and insults of a vulgar mob, with studied opprobrium publicly disgraced, and finally with contumely driven away to eke out the remainder of her days in the most abject poverty, misery, and distress. The purist,--forgetful his mother was a woman,--may say the degradation was deserved; but there is no human shortcoming that gives justification for unmanliness, the most detestable of all crimes.

By his wife Katharine, widow of William Bonville, and daughter of Richard Nevill, Earl of Salisbury, Lord Hastings had issue four sons:--1. Edward, eldest son and heir; he married Mary, grand-daughter and heiress of Robert, Baron Hungerford, Bottreaux, Molyns, and Moels, and in right of his wife was summoned to Parliament, though still a minor, in 1483, by the t.i.tle of Baron Hastings of Hungerford; he died in 1507.--2. Sir Richard.--3. Sir William.--4. Sir George; and one daughter, Anne, married to George Talbot, fourth Earl of Shrewsbury.

Lord Hastings made his will 27 June, 1481, bequeaths his body to be buried in the "_Chapel of Seynt George at Wyndesore_," and "_that there be ordeigned a tumbe convenient for me by myne executors, and for the costs of the same I bequeath c marks_." After many religious bequests,--"_also when George, Erle of Shrewsbury, whose warde and marriage to be, me is granted, &c.,--hath married Anne my daughter, I woll that if the same Erle should die, which G.o.d defend, &c., that then Thomas brother of the said Erle take to wife, her the same Anne, &c._,"--gives to "_Kateryn myn entirely beloved wyff_," sundry manors and const.i.tutes her one of his executors, and "_ordaynes John, Lord Dynham_," a contemporary of west-country fame, as one of the surveyors.

Katharine, Lady Hastings, made her will 22 Nov., 1503, and orders her body "_to be buried in our Lady Chapell, within the parish church of Ashby-de-la-Zouch_," gives numerous religious bequests, and "_where I owe unto Cecilie, Marquesse Dorset, certain summes of money which I borrowed of her at diverse times, I woll that the said Cecilie in full contentation of all summes of money as I owe unto her, have my bed of arres, t.i.ttor, tester, and counterpane, which she late borrowed of me; and over that I woll that she have my tabulet of_ _gold that she now hath in her hands for a pledge, and three curtains of blew sarcionet, and three quishons of counterfeit arres with imagery of women, a long quishon, and two short of blew velvet, also two carpets_;" and "_makes and ordaines Cercell, Marquis Dorset, widow_," one of her executors.

She died in 1504.

Lord Hastings was buried in the Chantry erected by his widow, and dedicated to St. Stephen, in the north arcade of the choir of St.

George's Chapel at Windsor Castle. The screen that separates it from the aisle, is of three stories, the two upper of open work with tracery. Above is a cornice with Tudor flower cresting, and in the centre, an open-vizored helmet with mantling, supporting the Hastings'

crest, _from out a ducal coronet, a bull's head affrontee, couped at the shoulders_. Below are the arms of Hastings, _a maunch sable_, and this device with the Garter appears in a series below. The screen was originally richly painted and gilded. There is no monument within it, and probably there never was such. In general design the Hastings'

Chantry has much in common with Canon Oxenbridge's, on the opposite side of the choir.

To return to Lord Bonville. We have thus traced as clearly and succinctly as may be, this somewhat tangled genealogy of their descents, and its bloodstained surroundings, to clear the ground, and get a more comprehensive view of the circ.u.mstances that may have had their influence on the last years of Lord Bonville's life, and also to afford some reason as to when, and why, he finally transferred his influence and allegiance from the Red to the White Rose.

Our last glimpse of him was in 1455, when he was said to have "valiantly performed" the duel on Clyst-Heath, with Thomas Courtenay, Earl of Devon, the real basis of which quarrel it is inferred, but not authenticated, was his presumed sympathy then with the cause of the White Rose, and so raised the anger of his antagonist, who was warmly interested on the side of the Red.

Apart from this rather apochryphal incident, there does not appear to be any direct evidence of his identification, at least actively, with the cause of York for the next five years. There were reasons why perhaps this might not be so. He was then married to his second wife, a Courtenay, the member of a family strongly identified with the fortunes of the Red Rose. She was the widow of a wealthy peer, and her present husband's son was married to the heiress of her first husband's house, in the person of her niece, the only daughter of his brother; and there does not appear to be any evidence as to which way the Haringtons leant toward the impending struggle, that may have influenced him. Lord Bonville may from conviction have pa.s.sively inclined toward the interest of York, but no mention is made of his being at the first battle of St. Albans (which took place the same year as the duel on Clyst-Heath) 22 May, 1455, nor as to his being in any way concerned with the fluctuating aspects of the strife during the next four years, up to and including the battle of Bloreheath, which occurred 23 Sep., 1459.

But about 1458-9 a new and very powerful factor found admission into Lord Bonville's family, in the marriage of his grandson with Katharine Nevill, the sister of the king-maker, Richard, Earl of Warwick, the central point around which the hopes of the White Rose concentrated, while her other brother George Nevill presided over the diocese of Exeter. It is difficult to estimate the important influence this relations.h.i.+p would naturally exercise on the Bonvilles, especially if already inclined that way, and doubtless it did add considerable weight to turn the scale promptly, and as it turned out irremediably, on the side of York, as immediate events shew.

Taking the foregoing speculations and surmises, however, only for what they are worth, by the middle of the year 1460, there could be no doubt as to the side Lord Bonville had taken, whether by the "subtile insinuations" of his grandson's wife's family or otherwise. The battle of Northampton took place 10 July, 1460, and the unfortunate half-demented Henry VI. being taken prisoner, we are told by Prince, with probable correctness, the king was, "among others, committed to the care and custody of the Lord Bonvil."

Doubtless afterward, Lord Bonville, accompanied by his son and grandson, found distinguished places in the retinue of the king-maker, in their triumphal march back to London, escorting the captive monarch in the train.

Short spell of success and victory, soon to be followed by a terrible nemesis! The scared but determined Margaret of Anjou, and her son Edward had escaped into Scotland, and presently the dark war-clouds were again gathering north and south for another sanguinary conflict.

Six months of preparation brought the combatants together, and on the 31 Dec., in the same year, the frightful and merciless battle of Wakefield shattered, for the time, the hopes of York to the centre.

Among the n.o.bles fighting on the side of Queen Margaret, was Lord Bonville's neighbour and old antagonist, Thomas Courtenay, Earl of Devon; and on the other, arrayed in the cause of York, were the three generations of the Bonvilles, two of whom were destined never to come out of that fearful conflict alive. Whether in the thick of the battle, or in the pursuit that followed, may not be related, but both son and grandson perished, and Prince intensifies its horror by relating "that both were slain before his (the grandfather--Lord Bonville's) face."

In the carnage fell also Richard, Duke of York, whose head Margaret, in womanish revenge, then caused to be struck off and displayed over one of the gates of York, decorated with a paper crown; while immediately after, his second son, the Earl of Rutland, a beautiful boy of thirteen was stabbed to the heart by the savage Clifford.

Eleven years intervened of ceaseless anxiety, and then at Tewkesbury, Margaret's own son Edward shared a similar dreadful fate at the hands of his captors.

In the pursuit that followed the battle of Wakefield, during the night, the Earl of Salisbury--the Lady Katharine Bonville's father--was captured, taken to Pontefract Castle, and the next day beheaded. The brother also, Sir Thomas Nevill, was killed in the engagement,--so that she lost husband, father, and brother in the fight; misfortunes almost greater than Lord Bonville's.

Thus died in the prime of life William Bonville (Lord Harington), the father,--and also before he had scarcely emerged from his teens, William Bonville the son. Probably both found common sepulture on the battle-field, or unrecorded graves in some sanctuary near. The Earl of Salisbury's body, and that of his son Thomas, were subsequently conveyed to Bisham Abbey in Berks.h.i.+re, and there interred, with others of their ancestors and kindred.

It would be supposed that the aged Lord Bonville, satiated and stunned with these acc.u.mulated horrors, would have quietly withdrawn from the desperate dangers of further partic.i.p.ation in these conflicts, and devoted the remainder of his declining days to a more peaceful life, and the preservation and guardians.h.i.+p of his baby great-grand-daughter, the last green branch of his antient stock, the infant Cecily. But no, his very name was now practically extinguished, his son and grandson were not, and the iron of misfortune had probably entered and seared his soul. Determined and perhaps reckless of the future on thus seeing all his hope and ambition blasted, he still followed on, for good or for evil, to the bitter end, regardless of consequence, the fortune of the cause he had espoused, and for which he had sacrificed so much. Who may enter into, or estimate fully the feelings that convulsed the stricken heart of this old man, under such an avalanche of misery?

But this misery, sharp as it was, was mercifully of short duration.

Six weeks only intervened, in which interval it is probable Lord Bonville retreated from Wakefield, with such of the discomfited army that remained unslain, back to join the Earl of Warwick, then waiting on the outskirts of London to effect a junction with the forces of Edward, Duke of York, who had just fought and won a decisive victory over Jasper and Owen Tudor, with a Lancastrian army at Mortimer's Cross, near Hereford.

Before however this could be accomplished, the energetic Margaret, flushed with success, and hurrying southward in hope to secure the metropolis, was upon him; and the furious battle of St. Albans on the 18 Feb., 1460-1, was the result. There she at first received a check, but by turning the position she fell on Warwick's army, and the combat was carried on over the undulating country, between St. Albans and Barnet, in which two thousand Yorkists are said to have perished. At nightfall, Warwick found himself beaten at all points, and made precipitate retreat, leaving the King, who was accompanying the army as a prisoner, behind.