Comic History of England

The War of the Roses having destroyed the nobility, times greatly improved, and Industry was declared constitutional.

Edward V. at twelve years of age became king, and his uncle Dick, Duke of Gloucester, became Protector. As such he was a disgrace, for he protected nobody but himself. The young king and his brother, the Duke of York, were placed in the Tower, and their uncle, Lord Hastings, and several other offensive partisans, on the charge of treason, were executed in 1483. He then made arrangements that he should be urged to accept the throne, and with a coy and reluctant grace peculiar to this gifted assassin, he caused himself to be proclaimed Richard III.

[Illustration: DEATH OF BUCKINGHAM.]

Richard then caused the young princes to be smothered in their beds, in what is now called the Bloody Tower. The Duke of Buckingham was at first loaded with honors in return for his gory assistance; but even he became disgusted with the wicked usurper, and headed a Welsh rebellion. He was not successful, and, in 1483, he received a slight testimonial from the king, as portrayed by the gifted artist of this work. The surprise and sorrow shown on the face of the duke, together with his thrift and economy in keeping his cigar from being spattered, and his determination that, although he might be put out, the cigar should not be, prove him to have been a man of great force of character for a duke.

Richard now espoused his niece, daughter of Edward IV., and in order to make the home nest perfectly free from social erosion, he caused his consort, Anne, to be poisoned. Those who believed the climate around the throne to be bracing and healthful had a chance to change their views in a land where pea-soup fog can never enter. Anne was the widow of Edward, whom Richard slew at Tewkesbury.

[Illustration: STONE COFFIN OF RICHARD III.]

Every one felt that Richard was a disgrace to the country, and Henry, Earl of Richmond, succeeded in defeating and slaying the usurper on Bosworth Field, in 1485, when Henry was crowned on the battle-field.

Richard was buried at Leicester; but during the reign of Henry VIII., when the monasteries were destroyed, Richard's body was exhumed and his stone coffin used for many years in that town as a horse-trough.

Shakespeare and the historians give an unpleasant impression regarding Richard's personality; but this was done in the interests of the Tudors, perhaps. He was highly intelligent, and if he had given less attention to usurpation, would have been more popular.

Under the administrations of the houses of Lancaster and York serfdom was abolished, as the slaves who were armed during the War of the Roses would not submit again to slavery after they had fought for their country.

Agriculture suffered, and some of the poor had to subsist upon acorns and wild roots. During those days Whittington was thrice Lord Mayor of London, though at first only a poor boy. Even in the land of lineage this poor lad, with a cat and no other means of subsistence, won his way to fame and fortune.

The manufacture of wool encouraged the growing of sheep, and, in 1455, silk began to attract attention.

During his reign Richard had known what it was to need money, and the rich merchants and pawnbrokers were familiar with his countenance when he came after office hours to negotiate a small loan.

[Illustration: RICHARD HAS A CONFERENCE WITH THE MONEY-LENDER.]

Science spent a great deal of surplus energy experimenting on alchemy, and the Philosopher's Stone, as well as the Elixir of Life, attracted much attention; but, as neither of these commodities are now on the market, it is presumed that they were never successful.

Printing may be regarded as the most valuable discovery during those bloody years, showing that Peace hath her victories no less than War, and from this art came the most powerful and implacable enemy to Ignorance and its attendant crimes that Progress can call its own.

No two authors spelled alike at that time, however, and the literature of the day was characterized by the most startling originality along that line.

The drama began to bud, and the chief rôles were taken by the clergy. They acted Bible scenes interspersed with local witticisms, and often turned away money.

Afterwards followed what were called Moral Plays, in which the bad man always suffered intensely on a small salary.

The feudal castles disappeared, and new and more airy architecture succeeded them. A better class of furniture also followed; but it was very thinly scattered through the rooms, and a person on rising from his bed in the night would have some difficulty in falling over anything. Tidies on the chairs were unknown, and there was only tapestry enough to get along with in a sort of hand-to-mouth way.

CHAPTER XVII.

BIOGRAPHY OF RICHARD III.: BEING AN ALLEGORICAL PANEGYRIC OF THE INCONTROVERTIBLE MACHINATIONS OF AN EGOTISTICAL USURPER

[Illustration: RICHARD III.]

We will now write out a few personal recollections of Richard III. This great monarch, of whom so much has been said pro and con,—but mostly con,—was born at Fotheringhay Castle, October 2, 1452, in the presence of his parents and a physician whose name has at this moment escaped the treacherous memory of the historian.

Richard was the son of Richard, Duke of York, and Cecily Neville, daughter of the Earl of Westmoreland, his father being the legitimate heir to the throne by descent in the female line, so he was the head of the Yorkists in the War of the Roses.

Richard's father, the Duke of York, while struggling one day with Henry VI., the royal jackass that flourished in 1460, prior to the conquest of the Fool-Killer, had the misfortune, while trying to wrest the throne from Henry, to get himself amputated at the second joint. He was brought home in two pieces, and ceased to draw a salary as a duke from that on. This cast a gloom over Richard, and inspired in his breast a strong desire to cut off the heads of a few casual acquaintances.

He was but eight years of age at this time, and was taken prisoner and sent to Utrecht, Holland. He was returned in good order the following year. His elder brother Edward having become king, under the title of Edward IV., Richard was then made Duke of Gloucester, Lord High Admiral, Knight of the Garter, and Earl of Balmoral.

It was at this time that he made the celebrated bon-mot relative to dogs as pets.

Having been out the evening before attending a watermelon recital in the country, and having contributed a portion of his clothing to a barbed-wire fence and the balance to an open-faced Waterbury bull-dog, some one asked him what he thought of the dog as a pet.

Richard drew himself up to his full height, and said that, as a rule, he favored the dog as a pet, but that the man who got too intimate with the common low-browed bull-dog of the fifteenth century would find that it must certainly hurt him in the end.

[Illustration: THE MAN WHO GOT TOO INTIMATE WITH THE COMMON LOW-BROWED BULL-DOG.]

He resided for several years under the tutelage of the Earl of Warwick, who was called the "Kingmaker," and afterwards, in 1470, fled to Flanders, remaining fled for some time. He commanded the van of the Yorkist army at the battle of Barnet, April 14, 1471, and Tewkesbury, May 4, fighting gallantly at both places on both sides, it is said, and admitting it in an article which he wrote for an English magazine.

He has been accused of having murdered Prince Edward after the battle, and also his father, Henry VI., in the Tower a few days later, but it is not known to be a fact.

Richard was attainted and outlawed by Parliament at one time; but he was careful about what he ate, and didn't get his feet wet, so, at last, having a good preamble and constitution, he pulled through.

He married his own cousin, Anne Neville, who made a first-rate queen. She got so that it was no trouble at all for her to reign while Dick was away attending to his large slaughtering interests.

Richard at this time was made Lord High Constable and Keeper of the Pound. He was also Justiciary of North Wales, Seneschal of the Duchy of Lancaster, and Chief of Police on the North Side.

His brother Clarence was successfully executed for treason in February, 1478, and Richard, without a moment's hesitation, came to the front and inherited the estates.

[Illustration: RICHARD HAD A STORMY TIME.]

Richard had a stormy time of it up to 1481, when he was made "protector and defender of the realm" early in May. He then proceeded with a few neglected executions. This list was headed—or rather beheaded—by Lord Chamberlain Hastings, who tendered his resignation in a pail of saw-dust soon after Richard became "protector and defender of the realm." Richard laid claim to the throne in June, on the grounds of the illegitimacy of his nephews, and was crowned July 6. So was his queen. They sat on this throne for some time, and each had a sceptre with which to welt their subjects over the head and keep off the flies in summer. Richard could wield a sceptre longer and harder, it is said, than any other middle-weight monarch known to history. The throne used by Richard is still in existence, and has an aperture in it containing some very old gin.

The reason this gin was left, it is said, was that he was suddenly called away from the throne and never lived to get back. No monarch should ever leave his throne in too much of a hurry.

Richard made himself very unpopular in 1485 by his forced loans, as they were called: a system of assessing a man after dark with a self-cocking writ and what was known as the headache-stick, a small weapon which was worn up the sleeve during the day, and which was worn behind the ear by the loyal subject after nightfall. It was a common sight, so says the historian, to hear the nightfall and the headache-stick fall at the same time.

[Illustration: THEY SAT ON THE THRONE FOR SOME TIME.]

The queen died in 1485, and Richard thought some of marrying again; but it got into the newspapers because he thought of it while a correspondent was going by, who heard it and telegraphed his paper who the lady was and all about it. This scared Richard out, and he changed his mind about marrying, concluding, as a mild substitute, to go into battle at Bosworth and get killed all at once. He did so on the 22d of August.

[Illustration: A MILD SUBSTITUTE FOR SECOND MARRIAGE.]

After his death it was found that he had rolled up his pantaloons above his knees, so that he would not get gore on them. This custom was afterwards generally adopted in England.

He was buried by the nuns of Leicester in their chapel, Richmond then succeeding him as king. He was buried in the usual manner, and a large amount of obloquy heaped on him.

That is one advantage of being great. After one's grave is filled up, one can have a large three-cornered chunk of obloquy put on the top of it to mark the spot and keep medical students away of nights.

Greatness certainly has its drawbacks, as the Duchess of Bloomer once said to the author, after she had been sitting on a dry-goods box with a nail in it, and had, therefore, called forth adverse criticism. An unknown man might have sat on that same dry-goods box and hung on the same nail till he was black in the face without causing remarks, but with the Duchess of Bloomer it was different,—oh, so different!

[Illustration: TOMB OF RICHARD III.]

CHAPTER XVIII.

DISORDER STILL THE POPULAR FAD: GENERAL ADMIXTURE OF PRETENDERS, RELIGION, POLITICS, AND DISGRUNTLED MONARCHS

As a result of the Bosworth victory, Henry Tudor obtained the use of the throne from 1485 to 1509. He saw at once by means of an eagle eye that with the house of York so popular among his people, nothing but a firm hand and eternal vigilance could maintain his sovereignty. He kept the young Earl of Warwick, son of the Duke of Clarence, carefully indoors with massive iron gewgaws attached to his legs, thus teaching him to be backward about mingling in the false joys of society.

Henry Tudor is known to history as Henry VII., and caused some adverse criticism by delaying his nuptials with the Princess Elizabeth, daughter of Edward IV.

A pleasing practical joke at this time came near plunging the country into a bloody war. A rumor having gone forth that the Earl of Warwick had escaped from the Tower, a priest named Simon instructed a good-looking young man-about-town named Lambert Simnel to play the part, landed him in Ireland, and proceeded to call for troops. Strange to say, in those days almost any pretender with courage stood a good chance of winning renown or a hospitable grave in this way. But Lambert was not made of the material generally used in the construction of great men, and, though he secured quite an army, and the aid of the Earl of Lincoln and many veteran troops, the first battle closed the comedy, and the bogus sovereign, too contemptible even to occupy the valuable time of the hangman, became a scullion in the royal kitchen, while Simon was imprisoned.

[Illustration: SIMON, A PRIEST OF OXFORD, TAKES LAMBERT THE PRETENDER TO IRELAND.]

For five years things were again dull, but at the end of that period an understudy for Richard, Duke of York, arose and made pretensions. His name was Perkin Warbeck, and though the son of a Flemish merchant, he was a great favorite at social functions and straw rides. He went to Ireland, where anything in the way of a riot was even then hailed with delight, and soon the York family and others who cursed the reigning dynasty flocked to his standard.

France endorsed him temporarily until Charles became reconciled to Henry, and then he dropped Perkin like a heated potato. Perk, however, had been well entertained in Paris as the coming English king, and while there was not permitted to pay for a thing. He now visited the Duchess of Burgundy, sister of Edward IV., and made a hit at once. She gave him the title of The White Rose of England (1493), and he was pleased to find himself so popular when he might have been measuring molasses in the obscurity of his father's store.

Henry now felt quite mortified that he could not produce the evidence of the murder of the two sons of Edward IV., so as to settle this gay young pretender; but he did not succeed in finding the remains, though they were afterwards discovered under the staircase of the White Tower, and buried in Westminster Abbey, where the floor is now paved with epitaphs, and where economy and grief are better combined, perhaps, than elsewhere in the world, the floor and tombstone being happily united, thus, as it were, killing two birds with one stone.

But how sad it is to-day to contemplate the situation occupied by Henry, forced thus to rummage the kingdom for the dust of two murdered princes, that he might, by unearthing a most wicked crime, prevent the success of a young pretender, and yet fearing to do so lest he might call the attention of the police to the royal record of homicide, regicide, fratricide, and germicide!

Most cruel of all this sad history, perhaps, was the execution of Stanley, the king's best friend in the past, who had saved his life in battle and crowned him at Bosworth. In an unguarded moment he had said that were he sure the young man was as he claimed, King Edward's son, he—Stanley—would not fight against him. For this purely unpartisan remark he yielded up his noble life in 1495.

Warbeck for some time went about trying to organize cheap insurrections, with poor success until he reached Scotland, where James IV. endorsed him, and told him to have his luggage sent up to the castle. James also presented his sister Catherine as a spouse to the giddy young scion of the Flemish calico counter. James also assisted Perkin, his new brother-in-law, in an invasion of England, which failed, after which the pretender gave himself up. He was hanged amid great applause at Tyburn, and the Earl of Warwick, with whom he had planned to escape, was beheaded at Tower Hill. Thus, in 1499, perished the last of the Plantagenets of the male kind.

Henry hated war, not because of its cruelty and horrors, but because it was expensive. He was one of the most parsimonious of kings, and often averted war in order to prevent the wear and tear on the cannon. He managed to acquire two million pounds sterling from the reluctant tax-payer, yet no monarch ever received such a universal consent when he desired to pass away. If any regret was felt anywhere, it was so deftly concealed that his death, to all appearance, gave general and complete satisfaction.

[Illustration: A RELUCTANT TAX-PAYER.]

After a reign of twenty-four years he was succeeded by his second son, Henry, in 1509, the elder son, Arthur, having died previously.

It was during the reign of Henry VII. that John and Sebastian Cabot were fitted out and discovered North America in 1497, which paved the way for the subsequent depopulation of Africa, Italy, and Ireland. South America had been discovered the year before by Columbus. Henry VII. was also the father of the English navy.

The accession of Henry VIII. was now hailed with great rejoicing. He was but eighteen years of age, but handsome and smart. He soon married Catherine of Aragon, the widow of his brother Arthur. She was six years his senior, and he had been betrothed to her under duress at his eleventh year.

A very fine snap-shot reproduction of Henry VIII. and Catherine in holiday attire, from an old daguerreotype in the author's possession, will be found upon the following page.

[Illustration: HENRY VIII. AND CATHERINE.]

Henry VIII. ordered his father's old lawyers, Empson and Dudley, tried and executed for being too diligent in business. He sent an army to recover the lost English possessions in France, but in this was unsuccessful. He then determined to organize a larger force, and so he sent to Calais fifty thousand men, where they were joined by Maximilian. In the battle which soon followed with the French cavalry, they lost their habitual sang-froid and most of their hand-baggage in a wild and impetuous flight. It is still called the Battle of the Spurs. This was in 1513.

In the report of the engagement sent to the king, nothing was said of the German emperor for the reason, as was said by the commander, "that he does not desire notice, and, in fact, Maximilian objections to the use of his name." This remark still furnishes food for thought on rainy days at Balmoral, and makes the leaden hours go gayly by.

During the year 1513 the Scots invaded England under James, but though their numbers were superior, they were sadly defeated at Flodden Field, and when the battle was over their king and the flower of their nobility lay dead upon the scene.

[Illustration: WOLSEY OUTSHINES THE KING.]

Wolsey, who was made cardinal in 1515 by the Pope, held a tremendous influence over the young king, and indirectly ruled the country. He ostensibly presented a humble demeanor, but in his innermost soul he was the haughtiest human being that ever concealed beneath the cloak of humility an inflexible, tough, and durable heart.

On the death of Maximilian, Henry had some notion of preëmpting the vacant throne, but soon discovered that Charles V. of Spain had a prior lien to the same, and thus, in 1520, this new potentate became the greatest power in the civilized world. It is hard to believe in the nineteenth or twentieth century that Spain ever had any influence with anybody of sound mind, but such the veracious historian tells us was once the case.

Francis, the French king, was so grieved and mortified over the success of his Spanish rival that he turned to Henry for comfort, and at Calais the two disgruntled monarchs spent a fortnight jousting, tourneying, in-falling, out-falling, merry-making, swashbuckling, and general acute gastritis.

[Illustration: THE FIELD OF THE CLOTH OF GOLD.]

It was a magnificent meeting, however, Wolsey acting as costumer, and was called "The Field of the Cloth of Gold." Large, portly men with whiskers wore purple velvet opera-cloaks trimmed with fur, and Gainsborough hats with ostrich feathers worth four pounds apiece (sterling). These corpulent warriors, who at Calais shortly before had run till overtaken by nervous prostration and general debility, now wore more millinery and breastpins and slashed velvet and satin facings and tinsel than the most successful and highly painted and decorated courtesans of that period.

The treaty here made with so much pyrotechnical display and éclat and hand-embroidery was soon broken, Charles having caught the ear of Wolsey with a promise of the papal throne upon the death of Leo X., which event he joyfully anticipated.

Henry, in 1521, scored a triumph and earned the title of Defender of the Faith by writing a defence of Catholicism in answer to an article written by Martin Luther attacking it. Leo died soon after, and, much to the chagrin of Wolsey, was succeeded by Adrian VI.

[Illustration: HENRY WRITES A TREATISE IN DEFENCE OF THE CATHOLIC CHURCH.]

War was now waged with France by the new alliance of Spain and England; but success waited not upon the English arms, while, worse than all, the king was greatly embarrassed for want of more scudii. Nothing can be more pitiful, perhaps, than a shabby king waiting till all his retainers have gone away before he dare leave the throne, fearing that his threadbare retreat may not be protected. Henry tried to wring something from Parliament, but without success, even aided by that practical apostle of external piety and internal intrigue, Wolsey. The latter, too, had a second bitter disappointment in the election of Clement VII. to succeed Adrian, and as this was easily traced to the chicanery of the emperor, who had twice promised the portfolio of pontiff to Wolsey, the latter determined to work up another union between Henry and France in 1523.

War, however, continued for some time with Francis, till, in 1525, he was defeated and taken prisoner. This gave Henry a chance to figure with the queen regent, the mother of Francis, and a pleasant treaty was made in 1526. The Pope, too, having been captured by the emperor, Henry and Francis agreed to release and restore him or perish on the spot. Quite a well-written and beguiling account of this alliance, together with the Anne Boleyn affair, will be found in the succeeding chapter.

[Illustration: CHARLES II. CONCEALED IN THE "ROYAL OAK," WHILE HIS PURSUERS PASSED UNDER HIM (1651).]

[Illustration: OLIVER CROMWELL IN DISSOLVING PARLIAMENT SEIZED THE MACE, EXCLAIMING, "TAKE AWAY THIS BAUBLE!" (1653).]

[Illustration: A BOOK ENTITLED "KILLING NO MURDER", BOLDLY ADVISING THE REMOVAL OF THE USURPER, CAUSED CROMWELL CEASELESS ANXIETY (1658).]

[Illustration: HENRY VIII. PLUNDERING THE CHURCHES AND MONASTERIES OF THEIR POSSESSIONS.]

[Illustration: AFTER THE DEATH OF JANE SEYMOUR, HENRY VIII. TURNED HIS ATTENTION TO THE SELECTION OF A NEW QUEEN, DECIDING ON ANNE OF CLEVES, A PROTESTANT PRINCESS WITH WHOSE PORTRAIT HE HAD BEEN HIGHLY PLEASED. THE ORIGINAL SO GREATLY DISAPPOINTED HIM THAT HE SOON DIVORCED HER.]

[Illustration: EDWARD VI., SUCCESSOR TO HENRY VIII., AETAT. TEN YEARS, WHOSE ATTENTION TO HIS STUDIES AND THE GENTLENESS OF HIS DISPOSITION MADE HIM MUCH BELOVED (1547-53).]

[Illustration: THE GREAT INFLUX OF GOLD AND SILVER FROM THE NEW WORLD CAUSED AN INCREASE IN THE PRICE OF COMMODITIES (1549).]

[Illustration: THE CHERISHED OBJECT OF MARY WAS TO RESTORE THE CATHOLIC RELIGION, AND HER CHIEF COUNSELLORS WERE BISHOPS GARDINER AND BONNER (1554).]

[Illustration: QUEEN ELIZABETH (1558-1603).]

[Illustration: SIR WALTER RALEIGH.]

[Illustration: QUEEN ELIZABETH SIGNING THE DEATH-WARRANT OF MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS, 1587.]

[Illustration: DEATH OF QUEEN ELIZABETH, MARCH 24, 1603. FOR TEN DAYS PREVIOUS TO HER DEATH SHE LAY UPON THE FLOOR SUPPORTED BY CUSHIONS.]

[Illustration: DISCOVERY OF THE GUNPOWDER PLOT (1605).]

[Illustration: EFFIGY OF GUY FAWKES.]

[Illustration: THE SCOTCH COULD NOT ENDURE ARCHBISHOP LAUD'S RITUALISTIC PRACTICES, AND JENNY GEDDES THREW A STOOL AT HIS HEAD.]

[Illustration: SIR WALTER RALEIGH, AT HIS EXECUTION, ASKED TO EXAMINE THE AXE. HE POISED IT, AND RUNNING HIS THUMB ALONG THE EDGE, SAID, WITH A SMILE, "THIS IS SHARP MEDICINE," ETC. (1618).]

[Illustration: PRINCE CHARLES AND BUCKINGHAM TRAVEL TO SPAIN IN DISGUISE, SO THAT THE FORMER MIGHT PAY HIS ADDRESSES IN PERSON TO THE INFANTA.]