[#] The qualifying words "the royal dignity excepted," are over-lined, in blacker ink and in a later hand than the original entry.
[#] This is the date usually given; but an earlier one is more likely to be true, since in 1466 King Henry was a prisoner.
"Much striving there is between us; but this is he to whom both we and our adversaries must submit."
There can be little doubt that Henry regarded his young nephew as his heir presumptive, a fact which in itself was likely to rouse Edward's jealousy against the boy: and even now a popular reaction was beginning in favour of the deceased King, which took the form of reverence for the sanctity of his life, and disposition to believe in his powers of prediction. The last item was rather helped than hindered by his predisposition to insanity, for in the Middle Ages a man with impaired intellect, in whatever form, was always regarded as one with whom God held direct communication. The particular form of madness which had afflicted King Henry, and which was characterised not by any kind of passion or violence, but by silence and dreaminess—an apparent absence of the soul from the body—was especially looked upon as indicative of inspiration. King Henry's own account of these attacks of aberration was that they were simply a blank to him, and that he had not the slightest idea of any thing that had taken place. It may be that to a man of his tender, sensitive, affectionate nature, placed as he was in these dreadful circumstances, these seasons, resting both mind and body, were God's greatest mercy. At this early date after Henry's death, a strong wish for his canonisation had already arisen. Had those who aspired to canonise him after death been a little more friendly to him in life, it would have been a state of things much more to his advantage. But this is human nature. We worry our friend into his grave, and then we call him poor dear So-and-so, and wear his portrait in a locket.
All these facts tended to make Edward's throne an uneasy seat, and caused him to be very anxious to get hold of young Richmond. His grandmother, the Duchess of Somerset, had returned to her allegiance: but his mother, the Countess of Richmond and Wiltshire, made no sign. His uncle Jaspar was watching over the boy; and no sooner did he hear that Edward was endeavouring to discover him, than he fled with him across the Channel, and delivered him into the safe keeping of the Duke of Bretagne.
Seeing that his dangerous rival had escaped his hands, Edward thought it desirable to assure himself of the fidelity of his nobles to his son. The little child of eight months old was created Prince of Wales, Duke of Lancaster, and Earl of Cornwall; and on the 3rd of July, in "the Parliament Chamber" at Westminster, the Lords Spiritual and Temporal swore allegiance to him.[#] Among those who took this oath is specially named, third on the list, his uncle of Gloucester. An entire household was appointed for the baby Prince—Chancellor, Seneschal, and Chamberlain.
[#] Close Roll, 11 Edw. IV.
On the 27th of August, a patent of pardon was issued for five Lancastrians. Three were men of no note. The others were described as "Henry, calling himself Duke of Exeter," and "Jaspar Owen, calling himself Earl of Pembroke."[#] It was not, however, for three weeks after this, that Exeter was suffered to leave his prison. He came out to find such a pestilence raging all over the country as had not been known in England for many years—scarcely since the "black death" in the reign of Edward III. No borough town in England was free. King and Queen went on pilgrimage to Canterbury as an expiation for the sins which had caused it. But, as a set-off to this humiliation, the personal expenses of King Edward for this half-year—the bloodiest period of his reign—amounted to a sum which no previous King of England had ever approached. The details of this expenditure, from April to September, 1471, will be found in the Appendix. They throw more light on the King's character than pages of description.
[#] Patent Roll, 11 Edw. IV., Part I.—The scribe probably omitted a word, and meant to describe the son of Owen Tudor as Jaspar ap Owen.
Perhaps, had Edward—and it may be more than he—carefully studied his account-book, it might have given him some intimation of the quarter wherein those sins lay for which he rode to Canterbury to do penance.