The Ottawa free trader. [volume] (Ottawa, Ill.) 1843-1916, 1881-08-13

81
cts faithful and true defender so long as hi
should live, and he appealed TO the king o
France to become his security.
Thinking only Of his bond, Louis readily
gave his assurance. Crucifying her pride 4
cr.wn her ambition, Margaret entered into 4
solemn covenant Of friendship and defenc,
with Warwick.
One last bitter sacrifice was wrung slowly
and with reluctant pain from her naughty
heart II was the promise that the hour which
saw the crown rest upon Henry's brow should
also give the hand of her idoized son to War
wicks daughter.
And now, from the ambitious plans Of War
wick, Margaret turned TO thoughts of her
English home. Beyond all this Margare,
looked with joyous anticipation to the hour
when, under her own roof:tree 10y the side of
her husband Henry, she should minister to
him with gracious kindness, while their beau.
tiful boy held the real reins of government as
the years went brightly onward.
Alas! her star was to 80 out IN night tina,
had no morning. An unseen hand was pre-.
lparing for her lie cup Of unutterable woe.
Through all that winter she was detained in
France; first by the necessity of raisiug an ar
my, and secondly by the ,rammels of etiquette,
ltrammels which she would have fling to the
winds had it not been for the clamor of her
courtiers. Even when her fleet had set out it
was driven back again and again by adverse
Winds and IN spite of her ieverlsh impotence
she did not reach England until March "a.
On the very night of her arrival tldings
were brought to her that Warwick had been
utterly defeated, and had sealed his fidelity
with his life Through the long hours OF dark.
ness Margaret remained insens;ble, and at last
awoke IN storm OF frantic, agonlzng grief.
Soothed at last by the tones of her child, she
reganed her lost calmness and with HIM
sought a refuge in the Abbey of Beatieu,
where she was soon rcjoined by the widowed
countess of Warwick. The longcontinued
and crushing mistortunes which had darkened
Margarets life were leaving their scars upon
even her brave heart She who had never fcl,
fear for herself trcmblcd iUr one who was more
precious to her than her own life aud would
have retained to France and waited for better
days, but her impetuous leaders would not
listen, ana her worshIped boy joined with
them In pleading that the campaign be vlgor
ousy pushed Margaret, with heavy forebod.
| ings, reluctantly consented.
| The rival armies Of York and Lancaster
met for the last time on the fatal field Of
lTewksbury, and on its hampled sod the sun
Of Lancaster went down forever
Upon the morning of the battle, Margaret
had clasped her child to her heart IN an agony
of tears, had lavished upon him a thousand |
tender Caresses and sent him forth to the con.
fict. Then she rode down the lines, her eyes
flashing and her clarion tones ringing through |
the ranks Of her faithful soldiers eXhOrting
them to battle bravely for England, and guard
well the treasured son whom she had that day
committed to their keeping.
The stupid rashness of Margarets general
turned the tide Of victory utterly against his
own forces and brought upon the Lancasterlan
standard crushing defeat. MargGrel's wor-
shipped child was captured and dragged INTO
the presence of the cruel king OF England.
He stood before the victor erect, fearless, grace
full, his elegant form and lofty bearing max
ing him look every inch prince.
What brought thee hither boy ' demanded
Edward
The young prince of nineteen, manacled,
covered with the smoke and dust of battle, |
drew back with proud grace, his dark eyes
glowing with eloquent indignation, his lips
halt curled in contempt as they parted in the
majestic answer:
II came to recover my fathers crown and
my inheritance"
1t was more than the arrogance of Edwards
brutal nature could endure He flung his
heavy iron gauntle: full in the handsome, de-
fiant face, and in q moment his hardened fol-
lowers had finished the work which their king
had begun. All that was lett OF the noble and
chivalrous heir to the Lancastenan claims was
mangled, bleeding. lifelcss form.
When Margaret saw that her forces were ir.
retrlevaby defeated, she would have broken
from the restraining hands OF those around
her and rushed upon the crimson field in order
that she might throw her own form between
her idoized son and the spears of those who
sought his life. With gentle force her attend
ants held her back, She reeled and tell into
their outstretched arms,-God had gently laid
the hush of blessed oblivion upon her mad.
dened brain. But on the morrow the old II
agony came back with redOubled force when
her inveterate enemy, Lord Stanly, sent by the {
heartless Edward, entered her presence, and
with fiendish exultnton Immediately descriD- II
ed her sons horrible death. Ia
Over that scene | will not lnger. Words c
do not even family portray the anguish of the
bcreaved mother Ie
With the malign satisfaction born of I'M
quenchable hatred, Edward Of York dragged I
the fallen, broken-hearted Margaret to London v
in his triumphal tram, and she passed thro' a
its streets calling the maledictions of great G
and just God upon the murderer of her child.
The despairing cry rang up through the
courts of heaven and was heard and answered
before tho throne. Twelve years later Ed II
wards own lovely boys we're brutally strangled
At midnight by the order of their inhuman |
uncle, Richard III. lC
One dim hope was left to Margaret. She
was destined to the tower where her husband a
was confined. 1t was possible that she might Is
taste the great joy OF prison life with him. 4