France, while their enemies at home were sitting in their fine houses, eating their bread and spending their money. Amongst others there was one John Grey, of whom we read that " King Henry made him knight at the last Battle of St. Alban's, but little while he enjoyed his knighthood, for in the same field he was slain." His property had been confiscated, and his children were left destitute. His widow, who was young and beautiful, appeared before Edward to implore his compassion. The king was also young, and always ready to fall in love. The lady behaved very modestly and very cleverly; she quite won his heart; and, casting away all thought of prudence or worldly wisdom, Edward determined to marry her.

1464.

His

marriage.

Warwick is

offended.

16. The English had been very angry at Henry VI.'s marrying a princess who brought no dowry, and no high alliances; but assuredly this match would seem worse still, as Margaret had at least been a princess of royal blood. Moreover, Edward had half promised to marry a French princess himself, a sister of the Queen of France; and Warwick, who, besides being king-maker, would have wished to be queen-maker also, was very keen in promoting that alliance. He likewise wished Edward to give his sister in marriage to a French prince, but he chose to marry her to the Duke of Burgundy instead. It was also believed that Warwick would have desired Edward, if he married an English woman at all, to have married one of his own daughters.

17. Thus he was quite alienated from Edward, though he did not as yet take part with Henry. He first made friends with Edward's brother George, the Duke of Clarence, and gave him the daughter Isabel whom he had perhaps intended for the king. Through all these wars the nobles were constantly changing sides and betraying one another. Even the royal family itself was not faithful, and Clarence now conspired to betray his brother. Afterwards he changed again, and betrayed his father-in-law. He himself was finally betrayed and murdered.

For the present he and Warwick gave no sign of their intentions, and perhaps the king thought all went smoothly as a marriage bell. It would certainly seem as if no King of England ever read English history, for one foolish king after another did the same foolish things, which led to ruin and misery again and again. We all remember the trouble that came of making favourites; we remember Henry III.'s favourites, Edward II.'s,

Richard II.'s, and the ill fortunes that came on them all. But Edward IV. does not seem to have remembered it. He began just the same thing over again.

The queen's relations.

18. Perhaps he thought, as he had married greatly beneath his dignity, and his wife and her relations were looked down upon by all the aristocracy of the land, that it would set things right to make them noble now. Accordingly, all the greatest honours and riches were poured out upon them. Her father and her brothers received great titles and estates; her son was married to the heiress of the Duke of Exeter, whom Warwick wanted for his own nephew; her sisters were married to the richest young men who could be found, heirs of earls and dukes, whom the lords would have liked to marry their own daughters. All this, therefore, instead of setting things right, angered the Earl of Warwick and the rest of the old nobility beyond bearing.

1470.

19. Except for their being "upstarts," however, there was nothing to be said against these relations of the queen. One of them in particular, her brother, Lord Rivers, was good, accomplished, and faithful. But their glory was short-lived, and they paid very dear for it. At last things came to an open rupture, and Warwick, forsaking Edward, allied himself with his most bitter enemy, Margaret of Anjou, who had never ceased stirring and striving to reinstate her husband and He now married his other daughter to her son Edward, so that he had, we may say, two strings to his bow-two daughters who might, in the changes of that changing time, come to be queens of England. This second daughter, Anne, was indeed queen for a short time, though not at all by the means her father expected.

son.

20. As soon as Warwick appeared in England the people, who loved and admired him, flocked around him in crowds. Edward had to flee out of the country, and to flee in such haste that he took nothing with him, and had no means of paying the captain of the ship which carried him across, but by giving him a cloak lined with sable. As to his poor wife, whom he left behind him, as well as his luggage, she took refuge with her young daughters in the sanctuary at Westminster.

21. Here we may see once again the good influence which, with all its faults, the Church was able to exercise in those troubled times. In our days, when the law is supreme, when every one gets justice done, and no one can injure another without being punished for it, we

Sanctu

aries.

66

have no need of these sanctuaries. Indeed, even in those days the good they did was mixed with evil; for it appears that a rabble of thieves, murderers, and malicious heinous traitors were sometimes harboured there. But notwithstanding that, when people were so bitter, and so fierce and bloodthirsty, and when the country was divided into two parties, always longing to murder one another, this right of sanctuary, the protection of a sacred place, saved many innocent lives. The priests were very brave in defence of the fugitives who took refuge in the churches, for sometimes the savage soldiers would pursue them even there. Once King Edward himself did so with his followers; but the priest, taking the sacrament in his hands, threw himself between him and his victims, and would not move till the king promised to pardon them all. Sometimes, treacherous as men were in those days, people would be tempted out with false promises of pardon; but on the whole it is believed that 2000 lives were saved in London alone by the protection of the sanctuaries.

1471.

22. Here the poor queen took shelter, and here her unhappy little son Edward V. was born. Shakespeare makes her say, "Small joy have I in being England's queen." Katherine of France, who was so despised for descending to marry a private gentleman, was, perhaps, a good deal wiser and happier than Elizabeth Woodville, who rose from being a private lady to marry a king. However, it was not very long before Edward returned. His brother Clarence was treacherous again, and deserted Warwick. Two great battles were fought, in both of which Edward was victorious. The first was at Barnet, and there Warwick, the king-maker, was slain; the second was at Tewkesbury, and it utterly ruined the Lancastrian house. The young Prince Edward, son of Henry and Margaret, was brutally murdered; it is said by Edward's two brothers, Clarence and Gloucester. Margaret was made prisoner, and Henry was taken back to the Tower, where he very soon after died. The Yorkists gave out that he died of a broken heart, but everybody believed that he was murdered, and Richard, the Duke of Gloucester, had all the credit of it, whether he really deserved it or not. The people soon began to look on King Henry as a saint, and said that wonderful miracles were worked at his tomb.

Death of

Henry.

23. Margaret of Anjou, whose brave struggle had ended so fatally, and who had now nothing left to struggle for, was kept a prisoner for five years. At last the King of France paid 50,000

crowns for her ransom, and she was allowed to go back to France, where she lived for the few remaining years of her desolate life. But though the royal family of Lancaster was thus broken up and extinguished, the end was not come yet. There still lived young Richmond, descended from John of Gaunt, who was to make himself heard in due time.

24. Not very long after these battles and murders, Richard, Duke of Gloucester, married Anne, that daughter of the Earl of Warwick who had been the wife of poor Edward Plantagenet, son of Henry. By and bye, as the wife of Richard, she did really become Queen of England, and still more than Elizabeth Woodville might she say, "Small joy have I in being England's queen." As to her courting by Gloucester, it must be read in the play of Richard III. (Act I. scene ii.).

LECTURE XXXVIII.-THE END OF THE WAR.

Caxton and the printing-press. Richard III. His victims. Murder of the young princes. Henry Tudor. Battle of Bosworth Field.

1. WHILE all these events were taking place among the illustrious heads of the nation, there was going on in the precincts of Westminster Abbey a work far more important and interesting than the battles, victories, defeats, or marriages of all the kings and queens in the world. That beautiful abbey, round which so much of English history clusters, had seen many splendid sights-gorgeous coronations, stately funerals; but the work that was doing there now was so quiet, so humble, in the midst of all the clash of arms and dynasties, that comparatively few people knew or cared much about it; and yet it made a greater change and a happier change than almost any other work we know of; it was the first introduction into England of the art of printing.

2. To realize how great that work was we have only to try and think how we should feel without it now; how we should do without our Bibles and prayer-books, our histories and poems, our tales and newspapers. Four hundred years ago perhaps none of us should ever have seen such a thing. It was noticed a few pages back how coming events were casting their shadows before. The higher classes were beginning to care more and more for books, and not to leave them any longer to priests and monks. The richer ones had collected fine libraries, and others, who were not so rich, still had some books of their own, and could read and enjoy them.

3. When we go into a strange house, not knowing much of the people who live in it, one of the first things we do, if we can, is to cast an eye over their bookshelves, and by seeing the books they read, we judge a little what sort of people they are. So if we could know the sort of books which our forefathers read we should feel a little more intimate and acquainted with them. We are fortunate enough to have got a catalogue of a private gentleman's library (preserved almost by chance) just before printing was invented. There

An old library.