The weekly register. [volume] (Point Pleasant, Va. [W. Va.]) 1862-1909, 1891-08-19
TEARS ON THE DIADEM.
FRANKIE R. MOORE.

lTuiy IL mas Decn said neaSy
reststhe head that wears the crown
and how applicable are theselines
to the stormy life of Elizabeth
Woodville.
Mrs. Dorsey has given us in her
short sketch clears on the Diadem,
a varied picture of each unfortu-
nate stage of her existence and in
presenting her, as the Queen and
as the woman, has proven that the
brilliant gems of her diadem were
rather but the CONCEALED tears of a
sorrowful life.
Ambition was the one great pas
sion of her life-the besetting sin
which silenced the noble dictates of
her heart and crushed the frail
blossoms which in early girlhood,
youthful companions twined around
the marble brow of their loved
playmate, playfulIy styling her
their Queen" as the dainty wreath
rested upon the golden head, how
ever, the fairer vision of jeweled
crown rose before her and the deli
cate wreath of flowers was cast
archaeological to wither in the
burning flame of the regal coronet
which blinded her sight with its
delusive splendor, and ere long she
had worn it, furrowed the smooth
brow with its crushing weight and
burned deep into the Utmost recess
of her bleeding heart.
Thenceforth her life was one long
trial, and though ambition pun
ished seldom excites pity" such
was not the case with Elizabeth
Woodvillc. From the royal apart
ments of her king consort to the
gloomy retreat of the sanctuary, and
thence to the peaceful enclosure of
the convent, our sympathy is with
her.
In the excitement of the moment,
when life, home and her husband
crown were at stake, the vanities of
her courtly rank at last forsook her,
and PROSTATE in humble prayer
before the Tabernacle, the proud
Queen was transformed into the
lowly woman-silently pouring her
sorrow into the ear of the "King of
Kings"
Around and about her the sub
dued glow of perfumed candles, in
termingled with the spotless purity
of earth's fairest flowers, produced
upon the sorrowful soul a mild
spiritual influence, yet the gems OF
her jewelled diadcm maliciously
flash as if in mockery of her tears
Keenly then, she felt the burden
of her SORROWS and the remorse her
ambition had imbibed. She had
attained a height almost beyond
her widest aspirings, but in return
had bartered her hearts prompt,
ings and souls peace.
The last crushing weight of sor.
row came; the fulfillment of the
prophecy OF Margaret of ANTON was
complete, and the grief crazcd
mother listened in silence to the
agonizing tale of the murdered
princes. Then the frail nature Of
the woman usurped itself, tho deli,
cate flower which had once basked
in the genial warmth of conscious
sunshine was laid low by this last
crushing blow, and in halfconscious
wanderings she heard the whispered
words of the aged priest-"youI
children rest and are crowned co.
heirs in the bright kingdom of God.
But one sad picture now remains
for the broken hearted Queen the
world with tsalluring prospects had
vanished, leaving in its stead only
the sad teachings, the bitter expcr,
fence, the stern realities of life.
Tears bitterer than gall or worm,
wood had hung on the gems of hen
diadem and when from the fail
brow its burning weight was at last
removed, the coarse veil of the
Cloister, alone sufficed to shield
from further sorrow the weary sou
of Elizabeth, the unfortunate wifi
of England's deplored King, Edward
the Fourth.
Great nh;o.t- Iosson