and deadly in his ruthless ambition as this her brother-in-law of Gloucester. She knew the man, and she dreaded everything. Her eldest, son, Dorset, who was Keeper of the Tower, in his turn weakly abandoned that important stronghold, and also fled to the Sanctuary. Rotherham, the Archbishop of York and Chancellor of the realm, hastening thither, found the queen seated on the rushes with which the floors at that time were strewn, an image of abandonment and woe. Her long hair, celebrated for its beauty, freed from those bandages which, in accordance with the strict etiquette of royal widowhood, had confined it, streamed over her person to the ground. All about her prevailed the utmost confusion, and running to-and-fro of servants with packages and household stuff from the palace, necessary for the sojourn in the Sanctuary; but the queen, paralysed, as it were, by the blow, seemed dead to all.
The archbishop endeavoured to cheer her by assuring her that Lord Hastings had sent her a message, bidding her rely upon it that Gloucester was loyal, and was doing all for the best for the king. "Ah! woe worth him!" exclaimed the unhappy woman, "it is he who goeth about to destroy me and my blood." "Madam," said the arch-bishop, "be of good comfort; I assure you that if they crown any other king than your eldest son, whom they have with them, we will on the morrow crown his brother, whom you have with you here. And here is the Great Seal, which in like wise, as your noble husband gave it to me, so I deliver it to you for the use of your son.
He gave it to her, and so took his leave.
It was now about daybreak, and, on gaining his palace, he opened his window and looked forth on the Thames, when he saw the river crowded with boats, fall of Gloucester's servants, keeping watch to prevent any one going to the queen in the Sanctuary. The archbishop, however, struck with terror at this proof that Gloucester was determined to convert the queen's retreat into a real prison, and was in full possession of the government, found means of reaching Elizabeth again, and entreated her to return the seals to him. The queen, who seemed completely prostrated by the appalling circumstances, passively yielded them up, and the archbishop carried them to a meeting of the nobility and gentry. Gloucester, however, was fully informed of what had taken place on the part of Rotherham, and never forgave him.
Great Seal of Edward V.
Meantime, London was thrown into the utmost dismay and confusion. Many of the nobles and citizens flew to arms, and some flocked to the queen at Westminster, and others to Lord Hastings in London. Hastings continued to assure them that there was no cause of alarm; that Gloucester was a true man; and he was most likely the more ready to believe this himself from his own dislike of the queen's family.
On the 4th of May, Gloucester conducted his royal captive into the capital. At Hornsey Park, the lord mayor and corporation, in scarlet, met the royal procession, followed by 400 citizens, all in violet. The Duke of Gloucester, habited, like all his followers, in mourning, rode into the city before the king, with his cap in hand, bowing low to the people, and pointing out the king to their notice, who rode in a mantle of purple velvet. Edward V. was first conducted to Ely Place, to the bishop's palace; but he was soon removed to the Tower, on the motion of the Duke of Buckingham, on pretence that it was the proper place in which to await his coronation. That ceremony Elizabeth and her council had ordered to take place this very day, but the crafty Gloucester prevented that by not arriving in time. He took up his quarters in Crosby Place, Bishopsgate, where one part of the council constantly sat, while another, but lesser portion of it, assembled with Lord Hastings and others in the Tower. The day of the coronation was then fixed for the 22nd of June, leaving a period of nearly seven weeks interposed, in order to perfect the diabolical schemes of Gloucester. The first object of this man had been to impress the queen and her party with his friendly disposition, till he had secured their persons; that being, in a great measure, effected, the next was to persuade the
