light showed that some daring hand had placed a placard on the duke of Norfolk's tent, containing these lines:— "Jockey of Norfolk, be not too bold, For Dickon thy master is bought and sold." Notwithstanding his ill-rest, Richard was the next morning energetically active, reckoning on overwhelming Richmond at once by a tremendous charge of cavalry. Richmond must have possessed great moral courage to risk a battle, for his stepfather was, till the moment of onset, dubious in his indications. At last lord Stanley and his brother Sir William wheeled round and joined Richmond's forces; thus the odds were turned against the usurper; yet the battle raged on Redmore-heath for more than two hours. King Richard made in person three furious charges, the last being the most desperate, after his friend the duke of Norfolk was slain, when, overthrowing all opposers, he cut his way to where Richmond's standard flew, in hopes of a personal encounter with his rival. After killing the standard-bearer, Brandon, "he was borne down by numbers at the foot of the hill near Amyon-lays." His blood tinged the pretty brooklet which issues from the hill: it literally ran red that day, and to this hour the common people refuse to drink of its waters. The body of Richard was in a few minutes plundered of its arinour and ornaments. The crown was hidden by a soldier in a hawthorn-bush, but was soon found and carried to lord Stanley, who placed it on the head of his stepson, saluting him by the title of Henry VII., who thus stood crowned, while the victorious army sang Te Deum on the blood-stained heath. "Oh, Redmore! then it seemed thy name was not in vain." It was in memory of the picturesque fact of the red-berried hawthorn once sheltering the crown of England, that the house of Tudor assumed the device of a crown in a bush of the fruited hawthorn. To the same circumstance may be referred the loyal proverb "Cleave to the crown, though it hang on a bush.” The local traditions of Leicestershire affirm, that when Richard's body was brought into Leicester, the town he had lately quitted with the utmost military pomp, it was stripped and gashed, and hanging, with the head downwards, across a horse ridden by one of his heralds, Blanch Sanglier. As the body was carried across Leicester-bridge, the head hanging like a thrum-mop, it (as was very likely) struck against the piece of wood projecting from the bridge, and thus the gossips found the blind wheelwright's saying fulfilled. The nuns of the Grey Friars begged the poor maltreated corpse of their benefactor, and interred it humbly, but decently, in their church. While these events were transacting, the royal maiden who was to 1485.] Elizabeth's triumphant release. 71 prove the prize of the victor remained in the lonely halls of the Yorkshire castle of Sheriff-Hutton, with no companion but its young and imbecile owner, her cousin Warwick. A sudden outburst of joy throughout the country, and the thronging of the population of the district about the gates of her prison, told Elizabeth that her cause had prospered, and that Richard was overthrown. Soon after came Sir Robert Willoughby, sent by the new king, Henry VII., from Bosworth, with orders to bring the princess Elizabeth and her cousin to London with all convenient speed. The princess commenced her journey directly, and was attended by a voluntary guard of the nobility and gentry of the counties through which she passed; many ladies likewise came to wait upon her in this state she was escorted to London, and consigned to the care of her mother, queen Elizabeth, at Westminster-palace. 1 Henry VII., in the mean time, set out from Leicester, and by easy journeys arrived in the metropolis. The lord mayor and citizens met him at Shoreditch, and recognised him as king of England. He came, not invested with military terrors like a conqueror-not even as an arined and mounted cavalier, but made his entry, to the surprise of every one, in a covered chariot, a mode of travelling never before used, excepting by females, “without,” adds Bacon, “it was considered necessary so to convey a traitor or enemy of the state, dangerous for the people to recognise." His own poet, Bernard Andreas, who had accompanied him from Bretagne, welcomed him to London at Shoreditch, with Latin verses written in his praise. The king went direct to St. Paul's, where Te Deum was sung, and he offered his banners, not those taken at Bosworth, but three, on which were figured his devices of the fiery dragon of Cadwallader, a dun cow, and the effigy of St. George. He then retired to his lodging prepared at the palace of the bishop of London, close to St. Paul's churchyard. While he remained the guest of the bishop, he assembled his privy council, and renewed to them his promise of espousing the princess Elizabeth of York. The discontents of the Yorkist party commenced from this era; they found with indignation that Henry chose to be recognised by parliament as the independent sovereign of England, without the least acknowledgment of the title he derived from his betrothment with their princess. His coronation took place soon after, without the association of the princess in its honours. Elizabeth, it is said, suffered great anxiety from the reports of his intended marriage, either with the heiress of Bretagne or lady Katherine Herbert. In the course of her meditations she recalled to memory that her father had, in her infancy, offered her in marriage to "this comely prince;" perhaps she did not know the evil intentions of that treaty, at all events, she deemed herself Henry's betrothed wife, not only from motives of political expediency, but according to the sanction of her 1 Continuation of Hardyng. deceased parent. Yet it was near Christmas, and no preparations had been made for the marriage of the royal pair, when the house of commons, on their grant to the king of tonnage and poundage for life, added to it a petition "that he would take to wife and consort the princess Elizabeth, which marriage they hoped God would bless with a progeny of the race of kings." The members of the assembled houses of parliament then rose up and bowed to the king, as a sign of their earnest co-operation in this wish :2 the king replied "that he was very willing so to do." He might have added, for the further satisfaction of all malcontent at the delay, that the prevalence of the two great plagues of poverty and pestilence were reasonable impediments to gorgeous and crowded ceremonials; for the private records of the exchequer prove that there was not a doit in the royal purse, and the public annals show how severely the new disease called "the sweating sickness," or sudor Anglicus, was devastating the metropolis. The parliament was prorogued from the 10th of December till the 27th of January by the lord chancellor, who announced "that, before its re-assembling, the marriage of the king and the princess Elizabeth would take place;" from which time she was treated as queen. A great tournament was proclaimed, and magnificent preparations made for the royal nuptials. Elizabeth and Henry were within the prohibited degrees to obtain a special dispensation was a work of time, but in order to indulge the wishes of the nation for their immediate union, an ordinary dispensation was procured from the pope's resident legate, by which licence the royal pair were united at Westminster, January 18, 1485-6. Their wedding-day was, in the words of Bernard Andreas, "celebrated with all religious and glorious magnificence at court, and by their people with bonfires, dancing, songs, and banquets, throughout all London." Cardinal Bourchier, who was at the same time a descendant of the royal house of Plantagenet and a prince of the church, was the officiating prelate at the marriage. "His hand held the sweet posie, wherein the white and red roses were first tied together." CHAPTER II. A LATIN epithalamium was written on the marriage of Elizabeth of York by a learned prebendary of St. Paul's, John de Gigli. "Hail! ever honoured and auspicious day, 1 Bernard Andreas' Memoir, Speed. 2 Parliamentary History. 3 Bibl. Harl. 1486.] Her Epithalamium. 73 Then, the poet tells Henry that the fruit of war is won, the ermine has descended upon him, the crown is on his head, the sceptre in his hand, peace smiles for England, and he only requires a spouse to complete his happiness, and thus calls his attention to Elizabeth :— "So here the most illustrious maid of York, Most beautiful in form, whose matchless face And she, their first-born, should of right succeed If you unite this princess to yourself Alluding to Henry's tardiness in celebrating his nuptials, the royal Henry is then reminded that her youthful affections had been given to him, and that she had patiently cherished this idea for years: And keep them ever pure. Oh ! royal maid, A thousand fair attendants around you wait, Of various ranks, with different offices, To deck your beauteous form. Lo! this delights And that to curl and braid each shining tress, About your snowy neck, while that unfolds And fits the ornaments, with patient skill, To your unrivalled limbs; and here shall shine The sapphire, azure gem, that emulates Heaven's lofty arch, shall gleam, and softly there And fiery carbuncle flash forth rosy rays He predicts that a child shall shortly gambol in the royal halls, and grow up a worthy son of Richmond, emulating the noble qualities of his august parents, and perpetuating their name in his illustrious descendants for ever. Nor was the Latin composition of the learned De Gigli the only poetical tribute to these nuptials. An anthem was written for the occasion in the following words, in which a strong resemblance will be immediately traced to “God save the king:" the similarity of the music is still stronger. "God save king Henrie whereso'er he be, God save the church of Christ from any follie, Three successive dispensations were granted by pope Innocent, all dated subsequently to the royal mariage. He addresses the king and queen as "thou king Henry of Lancaster, and thou Elizabeth of York;" and proceeds to state, "that as their progenitors had vexed the kingdom of England with wars and clamours, to prevent further effusion of blood it was desirable for them to unite in marriage." He calls Elizabeth "the undoubted heir of that famous king of immortal memory, Edward IV.," thus effacing the brand her unnatural uncle had cast on her birth. Three bulls were obtained, one after the other, before Henry could find one to please him; at last a clause was introduced, declaring that if Elizabeth died without issue, the succession of the crown was to be continued in Henry's progeny by another wife—a great injustice to her sisters. Elizabeth, very soon after the marriage, gave hopes that this injurious clause would prove of none effect. She retired to the city of Winchester to pass the summer, holding her court there, surrounded by her sisters, her mother, and her mother-in-law, Margaret Beaufort, for whom she appears to have cherished the greatest esteem. The king left his bride at Lent, for the purpose of making a long and dangerous progress through the northern counties, which had been so entirely devoted to Richard III. as to have upheld him on the throne by military force. It was impossible for Elizabeth, in her delicate and hopeful situation, to accompany her husband on this progress; for he had to suppress two dangerous insurrections on the road, and one notable plot prepared for his destruction. At last Henry got safely to the late usurper's favourite city of York, where the good people discreetly tried the effect of a little personal flattery. At his magnificent entry they made the air ring with shouts of "king Harry! king Harry! our Lord preserve that sweet and well-favoured face!" And so well was this compliment taken, that Henry reduced their crown-rents. The queen had fixed her residence at Winchester by her husband's |