Part 4

For fourteen years Henry was obliged to remain in Brittany, separated from his mother. The Yorkist king, Edward IV., was on the throne, and Margaret, separated from her son, lived as quietly as possible on her estates in the country, anxious to save what she could of her money and her lands for Henry. She seems to have stayed in different parts of the country. Wherever she lived, she devoted herself to the care of the poor and the good of the Church. Staying at one of her houses in Devonshire, she found that the priest’s house was at some distance from the church so that he had some way to walk to and fro. She therefore presented to the church for ever her own manor-house, with the land around it, for the priest’s use, as it was close to the church. She lived chiefly at Collyweston in Northamptonshire, where she built herself a fine house. She was deeply religious, and during these long years she spent much of her time in prayer. She used to get up at five o’clock and spend the hours till ten, which was in those days the hour for dinner, in meditation and prayer. The rest of the day she spent partly in ministering to the wants of the poor and sick, partly in study. Books in those days, just before the introduction of printing, were scarce and precious. Margaret busied herself with translating into English some books of devotion from the French. Amongst other things she was the first to translate into English part of that famous book, “The Imitation,” by Thomas à Kempis, which has helped and comforted so many people. We know little of her second husband, and do not know how much he was with her. He died after they had been married twenty-two years, and in his will he spoke of Margaret with warm love and trust. Shortly after his death, Margaret married for a third time, Lord Stanley, himself a widower with a large family, and one of the most powerful nobles at the court of Edward IV. In those days great people married more from policy than from love. Margaret probably felt that, now that it seemed as if the power of the Yorkists was established, it would be well for her to gain the protection of a powerful noble at court, who might in time help to make it possible for her son to return to England. She now left her quiet life and came to live in a great house in London belonging to her husband. Very shortly afterwards everything was changed by the unexpected death of Edward IV. When his brother, the Duke of Gloucester, made himself king as Richard III., and caused his little nephews to be murdered in the Tower, there was such discontent in England that it seemed to the friends of the house of Lancaster a good opportunity to destroy the Yorkist power.

Margaret’s son Henry, as the descendant of John of Gaunt, was the chief representative of the house of Lancaster. A plan was made to make him king and marry him to Elizabeth, the beautiful young daughter of Edward IV. The Duke of Buckingham, one of the chief nobles of the time and till now a friend and supporter of Richard III., was one of the chief movers in this plot. Margaret was travelling one day on the road between Bridgnorth and Worcester, on her way to visit a special shrine at Worcester, when she chanced to meet the Duke of Buckingham, journeying from Tewkesbury. He told her of the proposed plot, and she was naturally eager to help in anything which might bring back her son to her. Reginald Bray, a discreet man, who was in Margaret’s service and helped in looking after her estates, was employed in communicating with Henry. The young prince found many friends, and a fleet was got together to bring him to England. But after he had started, a mighty storm arose, scattered his ships, and drove him back to the coast of France with such fury that he narrowly escaped with his life. For the moment all seemed lost. Richard III.’s suspicions were thoroughly aroused. He knew that Margaret had been communicating with her son, and he was very angry with her. But he did not dare to anger her powerful husband, Lord Stanley, by treating her too severely. He bade Stanley keep her safely in some secret place at home, without any servant or company, so that she might have no means of communicating with her son. Stanley himself was really in Henry’s favour, and Richard beginning to suspect him seized his eldest son and kept him as a hostage for his father.

Somehow communications with Henry still went on, and in 1485 he landed in Wales, and all men flocked to join him. Stanley, who pretended to keep true to Richard to the last, deserted him just before the battle of Bosworth, where Richard was utterly defeated and killed. His crown was found hanging in a bush by Reginald Bray and brought to Stanley, who placed it on the head of Henry crying, “Long live King Henry VII.” It seems likely that Henry first met his mother at Leicester after the battle. She had parted from him fifteen years before, when he was a boy of fourteen, she met him again as King of England. The right that Henry had to the throne came to him through his mother. She might have claimed to be queen herself, but she never thought of doing this, nor did she try to take any part in public affairs. Of course all her lands were restored to her, and she was called at court “the full noble Princess Margaret, Countess of Richmond, Mother of our Sovereign Lord the King.” She now for the most part lived at her manor of Woking in Surrey, coming to court only on important occasions. Henry married Elizabeth, the tall golden-haired daughter of Edward IV., a few months after he became king, and Margaret seems to have been with her on all important occasions. Perhaps she may have domineered over her a little too much, for the Spanish envoy reported to his court that Elizabeth “was a very noble woman and much beloved, but that she was kept in subjection by her mother-in-law, the Countess of Richmond.” At any rate, Margaret was by her side on all great occasions. Together they watched from behind a lattice the coronation of Henry in Westminster Abbey, and the banquet afterwards in Westminster Hall. Together they went in state in a barge to Greenwich to see a water fête arranged by the Lord Mayor in honour of the king’s coronation, where, among other shows, they watched a dragon which was carried along in a barge and spouted fire into the Thames.

Henry VII. always treated his mother with great consideration. Margaret seems to have been an authority on matters of etiquette, for before the birth of his first child, Henry asked her to draw up a set of rules about the ceremonies to be observed on the occasion. In these rules it is stated that there were to be two cradles of tree, meaning of wood, one large for state occasions, to be adorned with paintings and furnished with cloth of gold and ermine fur and crimson velvet. At its christening, the child was to carry a little taper in its hand, and 200 torches were to be borne before it to the altar. After the baptism, the torches and the little taper were to be lit and the child was to present the taper at the altar. It looks as if the love for grand ceremonies which distinguished the Tudors had been started by Margaret. Her own household was beautifully ordered. She had drawn up a set of rules for the guidance of all the servants and the ladies and gentlemen, who made up her household, and these rules were read aloud four times a year that all might know and observe them. She visited in turn all her different estates, spending some time at each so that she might see that each was well ordered, and hear the complaints of all those who had any grievances. She herself would constantly speak loving words of encouragement to her servants, bidding them all to do well and to live in peace with one another. She employed a band of minstrels of her own, who would sometimes wander round the country and perform before the king and the court. As was the custom in those days, many young gentlemen were educated in her household. Her care of the sick and suffering never failed. She would minister to them with her own hands, and twelve poor folk to whom she gave food and raiment lodged constantly in her house.

Neither did Margaret forget her interest in study. We are told by Bishop Fisher, who knew her well, that she was of singular wisdom far surpassing the common rate of women. She collected a great number of books both English and French, and she was a warm friend to William Caxton, who first introduced printing into England, and who dedicated a book to her which he said had been translated from the French at her request. After Caxton’s death in 1496, his assistant, Wynkyn de Worde, became the chief printer in London: he was much favoured by Margaret, and allowed to call himself, “Printer unto the most excellent princess, my lady the king’s mother.” He published books for Margaret, and amongst others one which she had herself translated from the French.

Margaret had always been a deeply religious woman, but with growing years she gave ever more time to her religious observances. Many hours were spent in prayer and in services in her chapel. She observed strictly all the fasts ordained by the Church, which were very severe in those days, and she wore on certain days in each week a hair shirt, or a hair girdle, next her skin in order to mortify her flesh. In 1497 Margaret appointed a learned Cambridge scholar, John Fisher, whom she had noticed with favour at court, where he had come on business connected with his university, to be her confessor. Fisher gained great influence over her, and he used it for the good of his university, which was then by no means in a prosperous condition. Margaret was always generous with her money; Fisher says of her that she hated avarice and covetousness, and she was glad to use her wealth to promote the cause of learning. Under Fisher’s guidance she founded professorships at Cambridge and Oxford, which are still called after her. The college where Fisher had himself studied, called God’s House, was very poor, and Margaret refounded it under the name of Christ’s College, and herself made the statutes under which it was to be governed. She took great interest in it, and kept some rooms in it for herself, where she might stay when she came to Cambridge. Once when she was staying there, before the building of the College was finished, she was looking out of the window when she saw the dean beating a scholar who had misbehaved. She did not interfere to stop the punishment, but only called out in Latin, “Lente, Lente” (gently, gently), wishing that the beating might be less severe. It was in Cambridge that the famous scholar Erasmus met her on one of his visits to England, when she was an old lady, and admired her good memory and her ready wit.

Before the buildings of Christ’s College were finished, Fisher won Margaret’s interest in the foundation of another college, St. John’s. At that time, the time which is known as the Renaissance, because art and learning seemed to be born again, men were eager to improve the teaching at the universities, and to make it possible for all who wished to gain knowledge. Fisher was friends with Erasmus and other learned men, and Margaret was willing to help with her money his plans for the advancement of learning, just as she had helped Caxton and Wynkyn de Worde in printing and publishing books. But though, for those days, she was a learned woman herself, she does not seem to have thought that other women should be helped to study, and it was only the learning of men that she aided by her gifts.

Henry VII. was interested in his mother’s plans and himself visited Cambridge to see her college. He also thought highly of Fisher, and named him Bishop of Rochester. There seems to have been a deep affection between Henry and his mother. Once in writing to her, towards the end of his life, he says that he “is bounden to her for the great and singular motherly love and affection” she has always had for him. In writing to the king, Margaret called him “My own sweet and most dear king and all my worldly joy,” and often addressed him as “my dear heart.” She had the sorrow of seeing him die before her, but she did not live many months after him. She suffered greatly from rheumatic pains in what Bishop Fisher calls “her merciful and loving hands,” so that her ladies and servants wept to see her agony. She died at Westminster and was buried in Henry VII.’s chapel in Westminster Abbey, where a black marble tomb commemorates her memory. Bishop Fisher preached her funeral sermon, and said in it “all England for her death had cause of weeping; the poor creatures that were wont to receive her alms, to whom she was always piteous and merciful, the students of both universities to whom she was a mother, all the learned men of England to whom she was a very patroness, all the good religious men and women, whom she so often was wont to visit and comfort.” Margaret’s plans for the foundation of St. John’s College were not finished at her death, and Wolsey, the favourite of her grandson Henry VIII., tried to get her lands for other purposes. Fisher’s efforts succeeded in keeping a great deal for St. John’s, though not so much as Margaret had meant to give. She left all her jewels, books, vestments, plate, and altar cloths to her two colleges. She had been specially fond of fine goldsmith’s work, and many beautiful things had been made for her, adorned with her own emblem, a daisy, or with the rose and the portcullis, which through her descent from the Lancaster and Beaufort families became the Tudor emblems. Besides her colleges, she founded several almshouses, and a school at Wimborne, where her parents were buried. She used her great possessions as a trust which she held for the good of the country, and for herself sought no luxury or display, being, as Bishop Fisher says in his sermon, “temperate in meats and drinks, eschewing banquets and keeping fast days.”

V

RACHEL, LADY RUSSELL

RACHEL WRIOTHESLEY was the daughter of the Earl of Southampton and a French Huguenot lady whom he had married when travelling in France, and who was renowned for her beauty and virtue. Rachel was born in 1636. She never knew her mother, who died when she was an infant. Her father married again, and we know nothing about her relations with her stepmother, but we know that she dearly loved her sisters, and was very good friends with her stepsister. England was passing through troublous times during her childhood on account of the disputes between Charles I. and his Parliament. Lord Southampton was a sensible, moderate man, and he could not approve of the king’s doings, but he remained true to him and took his side when the civil war broke out. When the terrible end came and Charles I. was beheaded in 1649, Southampton got permission to watch by the king’s body during the night after the execution. He is reported to have told a friend that, whilst he was watching, at about two o’clock in the morning, he heard a step on the stair and a man entered, muffled in a cloak, and stood by the body. He heard him sigh, “Cruel necessity,” and knew by the voice that it was Cromwell.

Southampton’s moderation was so well known that, though he had been the king’s friend, the Parliament did not seize his lands, and he was suffered to live quietly on one of his estates in Hampshire. Rachel was then about thirteen years old and must have benefited from the companionship of her father during these quiet years. We know nothing of her education, and she does not seem in after life to have possessed any learning; but no doubt it was from her father she gained the good sense and the deep religious faith which distinguished her through life. She was an heiress since her father had no son, and only two of his other daughters survived him. As was the custom in those days, a suitable marriage was soon arranged for her. She was only seventeen when she married Lord Vaughan, who died four years afterwards. All that is known of their married life is that Lady Rachel behaved so as to win the love of her husband’s family, who always remained her friends. When her husband died, she went to live in Hampshire with her sister Elizabeth, to whom she was deeply attached. Each of the sisters possessed a fine place in Hampshire, and when Elizabeth died both these places, Tichfield and Stratton, belonged to Rachel. Her father had lived to see the restoration of Charles II. and to be one of his first ministers, but he was now dead and Rachel was completely her own mistress. There was no one to arrange a marriage for her, and she was able to choose for herself a man whom she deeply loved. She had known William Russell, the younger son of the Duke of Bedford, for two years before they were married. He had shown his devotion to her for some time, but perhaps because he was a younger son and she was an heiress, he hesitated at first to ask her to be his wife. They were married at last in 1669, and fourteen years of perfect happiness began for Rachel. The only real sorrow that came to her was the death of her sister, whom she described as “a delicious friend.” Her other sorrows were her brief separations from her husband when he had to visit his father at Woburn.

William Russell’s elder brother had died, and he was now heir to the dukedom of Bedford. He was not a brilliant man, but he was a very good man, devotedly attached to his family and his friends, and very anxious to do his duty. When they were separated, Lady Russell wrote constantly to him, telling him all she heard that might interest him. When he had only been gone a few hours she wrote that she could not “let this first post night pass, without giving my dear man a little talk.” Once, when she had gone over to Tunbridge Wells to drink the waters, she wrote: “After a toilsome day, there is some refreshment to be telling our story to our best friends. I have seen your girl well laid in bed, and ourselves have made our suppers upon biscuits, a bottle of white wine, and another of beer mingled my uncle’s way, with nutmeg and sugar. Beds and things are all very well here: our want is yourself and good weather.” They had three children, two girls and a boy, and her letters are full of allusions to the eldest: “Our little girl is very well, and extremely merry and often calls Papa. She gets new pretty tricks every day.” And another time: “Your girls are very well; Miss Rachel has prattled a long story, but I must omit it. She says Papa has sent for her to Woburn, and then she gallops and says she has been there, and a great deal more.”

Lord Russell was in Parliament, but at first he did not take much part in public affairs; he had no ambition and liked his quiet home life better than the bustle of public life. For many years he sat silent in Parliament but his strong love of liberty and of the Protestant religion at last drove him to be more active. There was much discontent with the government of Charles II. and with the favour which he showed to the Roman Catholics. Lord Russell joined himself with a number of others, to whom the nickname of Whigs was given, who were anxious to maintain the rights of Parliament, and to prevent the king’s brother James, Duke of York, who was a Roman Catholic, from being considered the heir to the throne. Lady Russell was very anxious lest her husband should do or say anything rash, and even once sent him a little note to the House of Parliament begging him to be silent. People were then very excited and very bitter against those who thought differently from them. An impostor, named Titus Oates, pretended to have discovered a popish plot to destroy the king, and by his false accusations caused many innocent men to be put to death. A few years afterwards, others pretended to have discovered a Whig plot to kill Charles II. and his brother. Lord Russell had not joined in any of the violent accusations made against those opposed to him, nor had he been aware of any plot, but he was a man of great influence, one of the leaders amongst the Whigs, and he too was anxious to keep James from succeeding to the throne. When people were angry and alarmed at the supposed Whig plot, the king and his friends thought it a good opportunity to get rid of some of the Whig leaders. There was one amongst them, Lord Howard, who was ready to secure his own safety by betraying the others. Lord Russell knew that he was in danger, and one day a man was set at his front gate to watch and prevent his going out. But there was no one at his back gate so that he could easily have escaped had he wished. This was perhaps what his enemies wanted. But he felt that to escape would be the same thing as confession of his guilt. He sent his wife out to ask the opinion of his friends, and they agreed with him. So he stayed quietly at home, and the next day he was fetched to appear before the King’s Council, and was afterwards sent as a close prisoner to the Tower. He knew the fury of his enemies, and said to his servant that “they would have his life;” and when the servant answered that he hoped they would not have the power, he said, “Yes, the devil is loose.”

From that moment, Lord Russell allowed himself no hope. He looked upon himself as a dying man, and turned his thoughts away from this world to another world. But his friends, of course, were eager to do everything to save him. We can imagine what the suffering of his wife must have been; she who had found it hard to bear a separation of a few days, had now to face the terrible probability that he would be condemned to death for high treason. Her first letter to him in the Tower was sent concealed in a cold chicken. Afterwards she seems to have been able to communicate with him more easily. Her courage was equal to her love, and she set to work at once to try to collect evidence in his favour. Her efforts never ceased during the fortnight which passed before he was brought to trial, and she got hold of every possible fact that could be urged in his defence. Moreover, she was brave and self-controlled enough to determine to be present at his trial. She wrote to ask his leave saying: “Your friends believing I can do you some service at your trial, I am extremely willing to try; my resolution will hold out—pray let yours. But it may be the court will not let me; however, do you let me try.” When Lord Russell was brought before the Bar at the Old Bailey, he asked for pen, ink, and paper, and the use of the papers that he had, and said, “May I have somebody to write to help my memory?” He was told that he might have one of his servants to write for him, and he answered, “My wife is here, my lord, to do it.” The Lord Chief Justice said, “If my lady please to give herself the trouble.” So Lady Russell was allowed to be at his side to help him. He was accused of conspiring against the king’s life, and of plotting to raise a rebellion in England. Both these accusations he firmly denied. The witnesses against him were men of despicable character and there is no doubt that their evidence was false; but the jury found him guilty, and he was condemned to death as a traitor.