Rutland is represented as a boy, aged twelve years, a spectator, not a combatant, and accompanied by his tutor, Aspall. Clifford overtook him, and demanded his name. “The young gentleman dismayed, had not a word to speak, but kneeled on his knees, craving mercy and desiring grace, both with holding up his hands and making a dolorous countenance—for his speech was gone for fear.” “Save him,” cried Aspall, “he is a prince’s son, and peradventure may do you good hereafter.” Said Clifford, “By God’s blood thy father slew mine, and so will I thee and all thy kin,” and so smote him to the heart with his dagger, and bade the chaplain, “Go, bear him to his mother, and tell her what thou hast seen and heard.” Doubtless Clifford was as red-handed a sinner as any of the barons, but probably no worse. He is said to have cut off the Duke’s head, crowned it with paper, and carried it upon a pole to the Queen, exclaiming, “Madam, your war is done: here I bring your King’s ransom.”
Such are some popular errors, perpetuated by historians who have followed the romantic versions of Grafton and Hall. Margaret did not lure York to his fate, for she was in Scotland when the battle was fought, and he did not sally out to fight a battle, but to rescue his foragers. The execution of Yorkist prisoners was simply a retaliation for the treason and blood-guiltiness of the Yorkists, and was carried out without the Queen’s knowledge. Clifford may have vowed to avenge his father’s death upon the house of York, and Rutland may have fallen to his sword: but the duke was in his eighteenth year, and no doubt an approved man-at-arms. As recorded, he had been attainted of treason a few months prior to his death. We may safely conclude that there were no schoolboys on Wakefield-Green on the 30th of December, 1460, and the only tutors there were tutors in arms.
William of Wyrcester’s account of the battle may be considered the most probable, and best authenticated:—“The followers of the Duke of York, having gone out to forage for provisions on the 29th of December, a dreadful battle was fought at Wakefield between the Duke of Somerset, the Earl of Northumberland and Lord Neville, and the adverse party, when the Duke of York, Thomas Neville, son of the Earl of Salisbury, Thomas Harrington, Thomas Parr, Edward Bourchier, James Pykering, and Henry Rathforde, with many other knights and squires, and soldiers to the amount of two thousand, were slain in the field. After the battle, Lord Clifford slew the young Earl of Rutland, the son of the Duke of York, as he was fleeing across the bridge at Wakefield; and in the same night the Earl of Salisbury was captured by a follower of Sir And. Trollope, and on the morrow beheaded by the Bastard of Exeter at Pontefract, where at the same time the dead bodies of York, Rutland, and others of note who fell in the battle, were decapitated, and their heads affixed in various parts of York, whilst a paper crown was placed in derision on the head of the Duke of York.” Thus perished Duke Richard in his fiftieth year.
Edward, Earl of March, Richard’s eldest son, was at Gloucester when the news reached him of the disaster before Sandal Castle. He promptly advanced his army to intercept the Lancastrians, and dispute their advance upon the capital.
Jasper Tudor, Earl of Pembroke, harassed his rear with a tumultuary army of Welsh and Irish troops. Marching to engage an army, and alarmed by a powerful enemy in the rear, was too critical a position for Edward not to appreciate its danger. On the 2nd of February, 1461, he turned furiously upon the enemy, at Mortimer’s Cross, Herefordshire, and defeated Pembroke with a loss of 3,800 men.
At Hereford Edward halted, and handed over to the headsman Owen Tudor, Sir John Throckmorton, and eight of the Lancastrian captains—the captives of his sword and lance at Mortimer’s Cross.
London threw open its gates to the victor on the 4th of March, and he was proclaimed King, under the title of Edward IV.