A Triumph. himself to the claims, of the wretched Margaret. Their beloved leader slain, his followers thought of her no more; they recollected their beloved prince, who, in the midst of all his indiscretions 'and faults, was generous, brave, and kind, to the meanest of his soldiery. 66 When his fine form appeared in the plains of Tewkesbury, he seemed like a bright star dropped from the firmament, to guide them to a safe and tranquil port. Long live," said they, "the noble Edward! and firm for ever stand the illustrious pillars of the house of York!". The cry soon became universal; Queen Margaret's followers quitted the field in dismay; and Edward was crowned, with the unanimous consent of the people. Henry VI. was now safely lodged in those apartments of the Tower, which A Triumph. were destined to prisoners of state; a captive in his own kingdom, near the palace of his successful opponent. Margaret, who detested his pusillanimity, was by no means the kind and gentle soother of his sorrows. But, much as we may dislike this woman's want of feminine amiability, yet sour misfortune, whenever she triumphs, pains the feeling heart; and whosoever feels the arrow from her sure-strung bow, deserves com'miseration. So the sad fall of Margaret cannot fail of exciting pity, even in those who condemn her masculine conduct. Harassed, as she was, by her late desperate defeat, she still hoped to procure some force from France to enable her again to enter the field against Edward; and at last she effected her escape, in the disguise of a country gentleman, attended the Duke of Somerset, who had fol A Triumph. lowed her faithfully in all her misfortunes and who habited himself now in the disguise of a menial servant. Their plans appeared to promise success; and the noble fugitives began their intended enterprize. The sad Chance of War. CHAP. XV. THE SAD CHANCE OF WAR. I've touch'd the highest point, And from that full meridian of my glory Like a bright exhalation in the evening, SHAKESPEARE. LEAVING Margaret, and her faithful companion in misfortune, to pursue their hazardous journey, the memorable day of Tewkesbury must be again reverted to; where, though a complete victory was gained by the Yorkists, they lost the pride of all their heroes, the matchless Lord Fauconberg, whose unexampled deeds of valour have been before The sad Chance of War. spoken of. He was son to that Lord Fauconberg who was killed at the battle of Ravenspur. Our navy, then, did not approach, in any degree, to that zenith of glory it at present boasts; for though Lord Fauconberg frequently protected the sea, against the intrusions of our gallic neighbours, he was also often called into the field, during the combats of civil war. This undaunted and successful hero, whom no danger could intimidate, or numbers overawe, seemed, on the morning of this decisive battle, to have a presentiment of his approaching fate. He penned his last testament, and bequeathed to a female friend he highly valued, and whom, after his wife, he made mention of with the tenderest regard, a castle he possessed in one of the pleasantest counties in England, with a part of his 3 |