What was the reason for so blatant a breach of faith? Had the negotiating bishops exceeded their briefs, giving undertakings and making promises for which they had no authority? Had Queen Margaret, Somerset's principal supporter, put her foot down and positively forbidden her pathetic husband to dismiss her favourite? Or had Somerset himself somehow persuaded his royal master to change his mind? We shall never know. The only point on which we can be certain is that Richard of York considered, with good reason, that he had been deceived and betrayed. From that moment his much-proclaimed loyalty was weakened, and England was brought another step nearer to the inevitable war.
In the summer of
1453,
taking advantage of a period of relative calm, King Henry VI went hunting at Clarendon in the New Forest; and it was there, in July or August - 'by a sudden and thoughtless fright', as one chronicler rather obscurely puts it — that he was stricken by a malady which left him both physically and mentally incapacitated, 'so lacking in understanding and memory and so incapable that he was neither able to walk upon his feet nor to lift up his head, nor well to move himself from the place where he was seated'. It did not escape those around him that these symptoms were all too similar to those displayed by his grandfather, Charles VI of France, during his own ever more frequent periods of insanity towards the end of his life - a fact which boded ill for the future. The King remained at Clarendon until early October, when he was carried by slow stages first to Westminster and then on to Windsor, still too apathetic to understand the great news that was brought to him on the
13
th: that, after eight years of marriage, Queen Margaret had at last presented him with a son. Elsewhere, however, there was less cause for rejoicing. The previous July had seen the deaths at Castillon of the two brave Talbots, father and son, after which the English hold on Guyenne, already tenuous, had collapsed altogether. By the end of the year the whole province was back in French hands.
These two last developments dramatically changed the situation. The birth of the prince, who had been baptized by Bishop Waynflete with the name of Edward, came as a shattering blow to Richard of York. His hopes of a peaceful succession, which had seemed considerably brighter since the King's illness, were now destroyed. His only consolation was that those of Somerset had suffered a similar fate; but Somerset's star was anyway on the wane. With the loss of Guyenne by now inevitable he was rapidly losing influence, to the point where he was not even to be considered for the post of Regent which, with the King's continuing illness, was soon to be accepted as a necessity. Finally, in November
1453,
at the insistence of York's ever-faithful ally the Duke of Norfolk, he was put under arrest and committed to the Tower.
By this time the King was at Windsor. His condition showed no improvement. When in January
1454
Queen Margaret and the Duke of Buckingham brought his son to his bedside for his blessing, he stared blankly at the baby but gave no sign of recognition or understanding. It was at this point that Margaret demanded that she should be entrusted with the government; the Council, however, would have none of it. As far as they were concerned the Queen was too young, too inexperienced and a great deal too ambitious; besides, she had identified
herself
too
closely
with
Somerset.
Two
months
later,
however,
after
a committee
of
Lords
had
visited
Windsor
to
report
on
Henry's
health, it
was
decided
that
government
could
no
longer
continue
without
an official
Act
of
Regency;
and
on
27
March
York
was
appointed
Protector until
the
King's
recovery
or
the
Prince's
coming
of
age.
Immediately he
began
to
consolidate
his
position:
as
Chancellor,
in
place
of
the Cardinal-Archbishop
William
Kemp,
who
had
died
a
few
days
before, he
nominated
his
wife's
brother,
Richard
Nevill,
fifth
Earl
of
Salisbury.
1
Another
relation
by
marriage,
Thomas
Bourchier,
Bishop
of
Ely
—
his brother,
Lord
Bourchier,
was
married
to
York's
sister
Isabella
-
became Archbishop
of
Canterbury.
Richard
of
York
governed
the
kingdom
wisely
and
well
during
his protectorship;
but
it
did
not
last
long.
Around
Christmas
1454
the
King recovered
from
his
illness,
and
on
30
December
looked
consciously upon
his
son
—
now
fourteen
months
old
—
for
the
first
time.
Showing every
outward
sign
of
relief,
York
immediately
resigned
his
office;
but with
the
King
once
again
in
charge
of
affairs
and
the
Queen
behind him
it
was
only
to
be
expected
that
the
pendulum
should
swing
back towards
the
Lancastrians.
Somerset
was
released
from
the
Tower,
all the
charges
against
him
having
been
dropped;
Salisbury
was
dismissed as
Chancellor
in
favour
-
somewhat
surprisingly
—
of
Archbishop Bourchier,
who
never
hesitated
to
trim
his
sails
when
the
need
arose; while
York,
by
a
final
stroke
of
irony,
was
obliged
to
relinquish
the Captaincy
of
Calais
to
Somerset
himself.
Prude
ntly
,
he
and
Salisbury retired
to
their
Yorkshire
estates.
So
too
did
Salisbury's
son,
Richard Earl
of
Warwick,
whom
York
had
appointed
a
Privy
Councillor
and who
six
years
before
had
inherited
through
his
wife,
Anne
Beauchamp, the
first
and
by
far
the
richest
earldom
of
England.
As
the
weeks
passed
it
became
ever
more
clear
that
the
King's restoration
to
sanity
had
been
a
national
disaster;
and
in
May
1455,
with the
country
slipping
slowly
into
chaos,
Somerset
—
who
had
obviously learnt
nothing
from
adversity
—
and
the
Queen
called
a
Council
at Leicester
'to
provide
for
the
safety
of
the
King's
person
against
his enemies'.
Since
they
had
pointedly
omitted
to
summon
York,
Salisbury
1. Nevill had inherited his
title
through his wife Alice, the only child of the fourth Earl, who had died of a wound sustained before the walls of Orleans.
and Warwick to this assembly, there was
little
doubt as to whom they had in mind; and it was now that the three decided to act while they were still at liberty. Their army was already prepared, and a few days later they were on the march. From Ware in Hertfordshire the Duke of York dispatched a letter to the Chancellor, Archbishop Bourchier, protesting his loyalty and emphasizing that his only purpose was to remove Somerset; but the letter was intercepted and never reached its destination. On the very same day the King and Queen, with Somerset and Buckingham and a slightly smaller force of about two thousand, set out from London, resting for the night at Watford; and the following morning - it was Thursday
22
May - the two armies met at St Albans. For three hours York and his friends tried to convince the King of their loyalty, asking only that certain persons, whom they would accuse of treason, should be delivered into their hands — past experience having unfortunately shown that mere promises, even when made on oath, were not to be trusted. Only when they received the King's reply, to the effect that he would surrender no one and that all who resisted him would be executed as traitors, did York give the order to advance.
It was rare, in the late Middle Ages, to fight a battle within a city or a town; normally a neighbouring field was preferred. The first battle of St Albans was an exception. The royalist army was drawn up along St Peter's Street and Holywell Hill, running from St Peter's church to the river Ver. York's first attack — from what are now Hatfield Road and Victoria Street — failed, but Warwick attacked from the gardens between two inns (the Key and the Chequer, now the Cross Keys and the Queen's Hotel) and after an extremely bloody encounter put the King's men to flight. Somerset was killed outside the Castle Inn; two of his principal supporters, Northumberland and Clifford, fell close by. Buckingham, blood streaming from his face, sought sanctuary in the abbey (now the cathedral). Henry himself, totally bewildered, deserted by his men and wounded in the neck by an arrow, was left standing helplessly by his banner in the market place until he was eventually persuaded to seek refuge in a tanner's house nearby. There he was finally found by York, Salisbury and Warwick, who knelt before him and carried him to the abbey for safety. Their followers', meanwhile, were less respectful — terrorizing the city and pillaging it to their hearts' content, while three hundred men lay dead in the streets.
But
the
battle
of
St
Albans
was
more
than
just
a
battle;
it
was
the start
of
England's
first
civil
war
-
that
civil
war
that
has
gone
down
in history
as
the
Wars
of
the
Roses.