A Metrical History of England Or, Recollections, in Rhyme, Of some of the most prominent Features in our National Chronology, from the Landing of Julius Caesar to the Commencement of the Regency, in 1812. In Two Volumes ... By Thomas Dibdin |
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7. | PART THE SEVENTH.
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A Metrical History of England | ||
7. PART THE SEVENTH.
From the Accession of the House of York, to the Death of Henry VIII.
CONTENTS.
Eduard IV.—Death of Henry VI. and of his Son.—Edward V. Richard III.—Battle of Bosworth Field.—Union of York and Lancaster, by the Accession of Henry VII.
HOUSE of YORK.
EDWARD THE FOURTH.
Mrs. Brookes.
“With stately triumphs, mirthful comic shews,
“Such as befit the pleasures of the court.”
Shakespeare.
“To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.”
Ibid.
EDWARD THE FOURTH.
His foes found him warlike, abroad in the field;
When he conquer'd the brave, he could vanquish the fair,
And to beauty in turn was too oft known to yield.
Was permitted to revel in safety and peace;
Nor did Margaret's praise-worthy energies cease.
Once more with her boy against York she makes head;
And the banner of Henry is seen to advance
By the Queen, La Varenne and bold Somerset led.
The heroine, true to her sovereign lord;
And spite of it's valour, her army defeats,
When happy the soldier who 'scapes from his sword.
No roof to preserve from a storm-boding sky,
Poor Margaret wanders; and presses her child
To a bosom half bursting with agony's sigh.
“For the son of a father so mild and so good?
“No cottage to shield from the night blast so keen,
“No guard to protect from the bands of the wood?
“And for thee, dearest boy, cou'd each danger despise;
“Now foil'd and defeated, proscribed and disgraced,
“The woman returns and the heroine flies.”
“'Till your wealth I'm possess'd of whate'er your degree;
“The world is my kingdom, this forest my throne,
“None pass it unless they pay tribute to me.
“Despoil'd me of all I had power to give;
“Now just retribution for kindness beguil'd,
“Demands in return, on mankind I should live.
“To plunder their Sov'reign, his child, and his wife;
“Of his crown they King Henry to rob did'n't spare,
“Yet for poor crowns that I seize the law takes my life.
“Their wealth all bear with them in times such as these;
“Yours seems to add weight to the cares of the way,
“And what gives you such pain, I can carry with ease.
Now close and more close, as the savage drew nigh;
And thinking some treasure she clasp'd to her breast,
He seiz'd her, while she, with hysterical cry:
“The offspring of Henry the mild and the good;
“From white-rose assailants who thirst for his blood!
“With rev'rence the ruffian to earth bent his knee;
“And he, who late threaten'd in accents so rude,
“Entreated permission her champion to be.
“To the hut of a peasant whose heart like his own,
“Form'd faithfully loyal, for loyalty's sake,
“Adhered to a Prince tho' bereft of his throne.
In short period after, found means to depart;
And tho' haply too poor to make royal amends,
Her guides met reward, for—they each had a heart.
England he seeks in unpropitious hour:
Where, prisoner made, that want of faith hegrieves,
Which gives him mournful lodging in the Tower.
From Margaret the Gallic court's protection,
The famous Earl of Warwick with dispatch,
Sends to King Louis to propose a match,
Between the Princess Bona and himself.
But by a sudden turn of new affection,
That prudent plan was laid upon the shelf;
And, ere Lord Warwick could have well arrived,
The King was by an English subject wived.
For it fell out one day,
That Widow Grey
So played her part,
The Monarch's heart,
Plump as a partridge, popp'd into her hands.
And yet the widow, tho' they say,
And truly too, that she was grey,
Was well-bred, witty, beautiful and young.
But Kings, 'tis quite as hard as it is true,
Areborn to wed—with love they've nought to do.
Flew in a passion;
Warwick espous'd King Henry's cause, and thus
Louis' best men,
And mighty Margaret, (herself an host
When at her post,)
Upon the sea the red rose flag exalted;
And never halted
To shout “Vive Henry,” and “Down with Neddy.”
Warwick had been the luckiest of his day,
Let him of what he would be undertaker;
And in those revolutionary ups and downs,
He so did settle and unsettle crowns,
They, not unaptly, styled him “the King-maker.”)
And York's Archbishop, Oxford, Somerset,
In Henry's name their banners proud unfurl;
And Montague, who late in anger met
The Queen at Hexham, now her cause espouses.
While Englishmen, by so long feud opprest,
And wishing very much to be at rest,
With reason cry “A plague of both your houses!”
Near Banbury King Edward gets a beating,
Taken by Warwick, they with care convey
His Majesty to Yorkshire; whence, defeating
To join his friends at Stamford.—Victory
Changes again her side; with Warwick fly
Clarence and Co. to France, supplies and aid
She amply lends, and such dispatch is made
That Edward yields in turn, deposed, o'erthrown,
And Warwick sets on Henry's head the crown.
E're ecce it'rum, Edward o'er the sea
Brings men and means, at Ravenspur he lands,
And modestly his dukedom but demands;
'Till fickle Clarence from poor Hal secedes,
Again in civil strife old England bleeds,
'Till Barnet's bloody field closed Warwick's power
And life, —while Edward re-ascends the throne;
The changeling court again his sceptre own,
And Henry, fortune's fool, beholds the tower.
The unsubdued, tho' often conquer'd Queen,
The fields of Tewkesbury imbues with gore.
And, wou'd some kinder duty mine had been,
Than tell how Edward, royal Margaret's son,
Gracing the train of him the day who won,
With words, becoming such a Prince, address'd
Proud “Edward, Clarence, Glos'ter, and the rest,”
Who (gall'd, the glorious filial lad should dare
Speak like his honor'd father's rightful heir),
“Buried their fatal daggers in his breast.”
And, hapless Henry! now thine hour is come,
Relentless Richard has pronounced thy doom;
Destroy'd by him, as most historians tell,
“After life's fitful fever he sleeps well,”
And, kinder hearted monarch never fell!
The Muse should claim an honest tear;
Unyielding matron in thine infants cause!
Great Queen! had Hal possessed but half thy nerve,
Thou had'st not needed gain that sound applause,
Thy princely actions ever will deserve.
Unkingly souls! who cou'd a price demand;
Heroic Margaret, by foreign aid,
Return'd in sorrow to her native land.
Returned to mourn the sad mistaken day,
Ambition taught her tow'ring soul to stray,
And charmed her from her household gods away.
Then hies to France in angry mood,
But, at Pecquigni, quarrels are forgot,
And England, rare to say, has truce from blood;
Save where his arts intriguing Glo'ster tries,
And Clarence, victim of a brother, dies.
'Tis strange in Ned, who loved the fair, we find,
At once a tender and terrific mind,
He own'd a very little sort of soul.
Some fancied prophet cries G shall succeed
The King, and lo! he makes George Clarence bleed.
Edward, in hunting, kills a fav'rite buck,
His hasty owner curst him for his luck,
He dies. —Another elf, who kept the crown,
For mere assertion that his only son
Was heir to it, his forfeit life lays down;
Pity that Edward e'er a crown had won.
With three gay mistresses, and one fair wife,
In love's allurements Edward pass'd his life;
One well he loved, (of whom the story goes,
That Richard's pow'r bade famine end her woes.)
Our page might notice, but what wou'd you more
That matchless Rowe has told of dying Shore;
Whose sad “severe repentance could not save
“From want, from shame, and an untimely grave.”
Their charms, no roses now to strife invite;
Or if they mention make of red or white,
'Tis only when they're speaking of their wine.
(If not by poison), terminates his reign;
Glo'ster attended him, and some suspicion
Attach'd of course to such a kind physician.
This reign; from Germany it found it's way;
And Caxton's press the prototype we own,
Of all that since has gilded learning's way.
The outlaw and his friend conducted the royal wanderers to Bamborough Castle, whence they shortly sailed for Sluys.—This story is from the authority of Monstrelet.
“Sir James Harrington discovered the forlorn monarch while dining at Waddington Hall, Lancashire, and brought him to Town with his legs tied to the stirrups; for this service Edward gave the knight many manors, which Henry VII. took away from him.” Habington—Stow—Nugæ Antiquæ, &c.
“This beautiful widow was the daughter of Jacqueline, Duchess of Bedford, by her second husband, Lord Widville, and had been married to Sir John Grey, of Groby, She told Edward when he add essed her, that “though too humble to be his wife, she was too high to become his concubine.” There are doubts whether Warwick's defection was not less on account of this marriage, than from an unprincipled attempt of Edward's to seduce the daughter or niece of (Warwick) his benefactor.” Hall.
Field Pieces are first mentioned as used at this battle:— “The King sparkled the enemy with his ordnance, slew many of the commons, and thereby gained the victory.” Leland.
The Marquis of Montague fell in striving to rescue his brother Warwick. The Duke of Exeter, who had been the greatest subject under Henry VI. and reduced to begging in his cause, perished in attempting to escape.
Fabian, who lived at this period, says, he was by the King's servants incontinently slain. Hall says, that they who stood about, viz. Clarence, Gloucester, Dorset, and Hastings, suddenly murdered the Prince. Fabian also says, from “common fame,” that Henry was killed by the Duke of Gloucester; while Horace Walpole observes, Mob stories, or Lancasterian forgeries, ought to be rejected from sober history.
Vide B. De Moleviele.Of whom he was wont to say, one was the merriest, one the wittiest, and a third the holiest, man ever boasted. Medulla Historiæ Anglicanæ.
Caxton, who was employed to print a work of Antony Widville, Earl Rivers, thus oddly concludes it in his own words:
“Unto the good grace of my precious Lord
“Th'erle Ryveris; for I have emprinted thee
“At his commandement, following ev'ry worde
“His copye, as his Secretarie can recorde;
“At Westmestre, of Feverer the XX Day,
“And of King Edwarde the XVII. Yere viaye,
“Emprinted by Caxton,
It is observed by Hume and others, that scarcely two historians agree as to the dates of circumstances occuring in this reign.
“That rises like the issue of a King,
“And bears upon his baby brow the round
“And top of Sov'reignty?”
“Fading or e'er he blossom'd.”
“Tell thou the lamentable fall of me,
“And send thy hearers weeping to their beds.”
Shakespeare.
EDWARD THE FIFTH.
“'Twas at the silent midnight hour,”When deeds of murder vainly try
To shun all-seeing Heaven's eye,
And awful darkness wrapt the Tower
Where innocence was doom'd to die;
That crook-soul'd Richard's ruffian crew,
Starting at every hollow gust that blew,
Through vaulted passage stole, and arch-way low,
Where shadows mock'd the flickering taper's glow,
And, e'en the noise their felon steps impart,
Struck nameless terror to each coward heart!
Whose guardian Angels would have wept;
Did Angels weep? not for the fate of those,
They waited soon to waft to God's repose.
But for the poor deluded men who sold
Their everlasting hopes for cursed gold;
And for his deep perdition who could lull
His conscience to commission of such deeds,
For whom some victim daily bleeds,
E're yet the measure of his guilt be full!
Chill silence reign'd, unless some rip'ling wave
Of Thames with placid noise the fortress lave;
Or echo mark the sentry's measured tone,
Or haply of some prison'd wretch the groan,
Pierces the guarded wall with half-distinguish'd moan.
Then with averted look and panting breath,
The wreckless ministers of death
Approach the sleeping pair; unconscious they,
And undisturbed by guilty conscience lay,
'Till by the suffocating pillow prest,
They changed their mortal for immortal rest.
And glee infernal shout the royal knell;
'Till, Heaven corrected, they remain
Cover'd in silence and accustom'd pain.
Then, rising to extatic harmony,
Celestial sounds that direful yell replace;
While loud Hosannas rend the sky,
And welcome virtue to the throne of grace!
How on that night did Richard sleep?
Ah! well for him might angels weep!
Historians have many doubts as to the commission of this alledged murder;—one proof offered to the contrary is from a curious document, said to be the Coronation Roll of Richard III. from which it would appear that Prince Edward walked at his Uncle's coronation. The entry is as follows:
“To Edward, Son of the late King Edward the Fourth, for his apparel and arraye, that is to say,—a shorte gowne, made of two yards and three-fourths crymsyn clothe, of golde, lyned with two yards three-fourths of blac velvet; a long gowne, made of six yards of crymsyn clothe, of golde, lyned with six yards of green damask; a doublet and a stomacher, made of two yards of blac sattin, &c. &c.; besides two foot clothes, a bonnet of purple velvet and nine saddle housings of blue velvet, gilt spurs, with many other rich articles and magnificent apparel, for his henchmen or pages.”—The above is copied, with similar variations of orthography, (occurring in the same words) from the original, by Mr. Walpole, who was gratified with the perusal of it by Mr. Chamberlain, of the Great Wardrobe.
Vide Bertrand de Moleville's Hist. of Gt. Britain.“It has, however, been suggested by Mr. Walpole himself, that these garments might probably have been intended for Edward the Fifth's Coronation, before Richard disclosed his designs.”
Historic Doubts, and Answer.RICHARD III. surnamed CROOKBACK.
“A cut-purse of the empire and the rule,
“Who from a shelf a precious diadem stole,
“And put it in his pocket.”
Shakespeare.
“Rule all England under the Hog.”
Doggerels of the day.
THE VICTIMS,
A PARODY.
While yet on fostering breast he hung,
His mind being, like his body, made ill,
The vices throng'd around his cradle;
Exulting, sneering, grinning, fighting,
They set his early teeth a biting;
To roar and cry for every thing;
Once, while he slept and all were fired,
Fill'd with fury, rapt, inspir'd
From scenes of the succeeding age,
Each fiend prophetic snatch'd a page;
And, as they oft had shewn apart,
Dark lessons of their forceful art,
Each borrow'd from the future hour,
Some victim of the tyrant's power;
And mutually agreed to pry
Into their darlings destiny.
(Near him a Malmsey butt they laid),
Who back recoil'd, he knew not why,
Even at the choice himself had made.
With just reproof the tyrant stings,
One savage blow speaks Richard's ire,
And the youth soars on seraph wings.
King Henry mourns his hopes beguil'd,
'Till Glo'ster's dagger ends his care,
And sends the father to his child.
What was thy delusive measure?
Still it whisper'd royal pleasure
To Edward's son, and promis'd thrones and pow'r.
While their fell uncle in the Tower,
Thought fit to echo the deceitful song,
And where of loyalty the theme she chose,
His hypocritic voice was heard at ev'ry close;
And York and Edward fell into the snare.
The Duke impatient rose,
He threw his artful mask in fury down,
And with a withering look,
Of Hastings, Rivers, Vaughan, and Grey he took
A deed so horrible and dread—
Ne'er were half-stifled shrieks so full of woe,
As when the fell assassins press'd
Against each struggling infant's breast;
And tho' some time each dreary pause between,
Dejected pity at their side,
Her soul subduing voice applied:
Still on the couch of innocence they lean,
'Till each strain'd ball of sight announce the victims dead!
The crown on Richard, mourns his fallen state;
His cup of death ungrateful Gloster mix'd,
And one he cherish'd sells him to his fate.
The Wife of Richard sat retired;
In notes by sorrow render'd sweet,
Pour'd to Prince Edward's shade her plaintive soul;
And deeply grieves that e'er she found,
Like Eve, the soft beguiling sound
Of the keen serpent's voice, which gently stole
Within her heart, her duty to betray;
When after once or twice refusing,
Oh, woman's weakness! past excusing,
She on the Crook-back threw herself away!
When Harry Richmond, arm'd with title true,
His Baldrick 'cross his shoulder flung,
And, with enliv'ning trumpet, blew
A call to arms that thro' the island rung!
His claim announcing to the English throne.
With age so gay, and youth so green,
To join his standard soon were seen;
And Rice ap Thomas seized his Cambrian spear.
Richard for his crown advancing;
First to the soldiery some words address,
But soon he saw brave Henry defy all,
(And fighting, far than talking he lov'd best).
They might have thought, who heard the fray,
That in dark Pandæmonium's shade,
All Milton's dæmon's were array'd;
Such clang of arms, and coursers prancing.
While, as on sounding shield the faulchion rings,
Death, in his ebon car, drove fiercely round;
And Richard's corse among the slain was found!
And Henry on that well fought day,
His worth and valour to repay,
Received a crown upborne on Vict'ry's wings.
And begg'd, not relishing the joke,
His tutors would so civil be,
As alter the catastrophe.
Must surely happen, soon or late;
And what, as fiction has been stated,
All came to pass, as we've related.
George, Duke of Clarence, it is said, having been offered a choice as to the mode of his death, was by such melancholy election drowned in a butt of malmsey wine.
Hastings, beheaded in the Tower for his attachment to the rights of the royal children; and the other three, their near relations, put to death at Pomfret.
The Duke of Buckingham having levied a force against Richard, for evading certain promises made before he obtained the crown, was deserted by his army, and delivered to his enemy by the treachery of Ban ster, a confidential servant, who had been greatly obliged by the Duke.
Ann, the Widow of Edward, Son of Henry VI. who unaccountably married her husband's murderer, by whom, it is supposed, her own death was hastened.
A Welch Chief, of great influence, who was one of the first to join Henry when he landed at Milford.
Richard's body, after being exposed, was buried in the church of the Grey Friars, in Leicester. Henry VII. bestowed a monument on it, which was demolished at the dissolution of Abbies, under Henry VIII; and the monarch's stone coffin actually served for a horse-trough, at the White Horse Inn: Sic transit gloria mundi!
For the composition of which W. Collingbourne, Esq. who had been Sheriff of Wiltshire and Devonshire, was executed.
HOUSE of TUDOR,
AND UNION OF THE FAMILIES OF YORK AND LANCASTER.
Thomson.
“In my most ill-composed affection, such
“A staunchless avarice, that, were I a King,
“I should cut off the nobles for their lands.
Shakespeare.
Welch Ballads.
HENRY THE SEVENTH.
Than which, not the times were ruder,
My muse shall sing,
We gained a King
From the house of Owen Tudor.
Of fighting fifth King Harry;
And she from a crown
Stepp'd kindly down
A simple 'squire to marry.
From John of Gaunt pretended,
But some said nay,
'Till he won the day,
And there the question ended,
And Vict'ry deigned to place it
On Henry's head,
Who smiling said,
Qui Capit ille facit.
For the Queen her mother brought her
The fight to see,
In hopes that he
Who won might take her daughter.
Poor Bess was afraid to look up;
But Dick once dead,
She rais'd her head,
And the Conqueror she took up.
He call'd her best of creatures;
And in gold, red, and blue,
For her guard drest a crew
Of the first enrolled Beef-Eaters,
From Madge of York, and her kin;
Who, it's known very well,
Induced to rebel
Lambert Simnel, and Warbeck Perkin.
To rule the land unable,
The King him took,
To learn from his cook,
How to rule the roast at table.
Of York wou'd him sit well on,
Then lost his life,
For they hang'd him like a felon.
In each finance transaction,
And the people squeez'd,
'Till much displeased,
They call'd for satisfaction.
And the north too, tired of taxes,
Essay'd the field,
But, forced to yield,
Made work for ropes and axes,
Soon after wedlock dying,
By the King's next son,
His spouse was won,
Who had cause to rue complying.
The crown to his son bequeathing;
He left more gold,
In sums untold,
Than any monarch breathing.
Columbus sailed from Cadiz,
And found, they say,
America,
By which Spain's fortune made is.
The sweating sickness also did prevail;
And tho' per bushel wheat but six-pence brought,
Much discontent did thro' the land prevail.
Margaret of York, Duchess Dowager of Burgundy, and Sister of Edward the Fourth, a sworn enemy to the House of Lancaster.
James of Scotland gave him in marriage the Lady Catherine Gordon, Daughter of the Earl of Huntley, and Kins-woman to the King. After the defeat of her husband, to whom she was much attached, King Henry treated her with respect, gave her a pension, and introduced her to his Queen.—Sir James Cradock obtained the Widow's hand.
“Warbeck, that Flemish counterfeit,
“Who on the gibbet paid the cheat.”
Walter Scott.
Poetic Specimens of Henry the Seventh's Reign
[Upon this horse, black and hideous, Death am I who fiercely doth sitte]
There is no fairness, but sight tedious, all gay colours I do hitte;
My horse runneth by dales and hilles,
And many he smiteth dede and killes.
I will not respite an hour of a day, before me they must be present;
I flea all with my mortal knife,
And, of duetye, I take the life.
It followeth me ever, running, with my darte I slea week and starke;
A great number it hath of me
Paradise hath not the fourth part.
[Who pleyethe on the harpe, he sholde pleye trewe]
The following is from a M.S. of this reign, which treats of the method of acquiring the science of Music.
Who syngythe a songe, let hys voyce be tunáble;
Who wrestythe the clavycorde, mystunynge eschewe;
Who blowthe a trompét, let ys winde be measuràble;
For instromentes themselves be firmè and stable,
And of trowthè woldè trowthè, to every man's songe,
Tune them then trewly, for in them is no wronge.
A Metrical History of England | ||