her youngest son, Richard, succeeded to a throne and a bloody death. The career of her daughters was also remarkable. Anne, her eldest daughter, married Henry Holland, Duke of Exeter, whose splendid fortunes and mysterious fate are so well known. Elizabeth, the second daughter, became the wife of John de la Pole, Duke of Suffolk, and lived to see her son, the second duke, decapitated on Tower Hill for his attachment to the house of York. Lastly, her third daughter, Margaret, married Charles, Duke of Burgundy. This lady's persevering hostility to Henry the Seventh, and open support of the claims of Perkin Warbeck, believing him to be the last male heir of the house of Plantagenet, have rendered her name conspicuous in history.

Between Paul's Wharf and Puddle Dock, under the shadow of the great cathedral of St. Paul's, stood anciently, on the banks of the Thames, Baynard's Castle, endeared to us by the magic genius of Shakespeare, and associated with some of the most stirring scenes in the history of our country. Baynard's Castle derives its name from its founder, one of the Norman barons who accompanied William the Conqueror to England, and by one of whose descendants, William Baynard, it was forfeited in IIII. Henry the First bestowed it on Robert Fitzwalter, fifth son of Richard, Earl of Clare, in whose family the office of castellan and standard-bearer to the city of London became

hereditary. His immediate descendant was Robert Fitzwalter, whose daughter, the beautiful Matilda, King John attempted to corrupt. Fitzwalter, to avenge the affront offered to his race, subsequently acted a conspicuous part in the wars waged against the king by his barons. "The primary occasion of these discontents," writes Dugdale, "is by some thus reported: that this Robert Fitzwalter, having a very beautiful daughter, called Maude, residing at Dunmow, the king frequently solicited her chastity, but, never prevailing, grew so enraged that he caused her to be privately poisoned; and that she was buried at the south side of the choir at Dunmow [in Essex], between two pillars there." To punish the rebellion of Fitzwalter, the king caused "his house, called Baynard's Castle, in the city of London," to be razed to the ground. Fitzwalter, however, is said to have subsequently made his peace with King John, by the extraordinary valour which he displayed at a tournament in the presence of the King of France. King John, struck with admiration at his prowess, is said to have exclaimed, "By God's tooth, he deserves to be a king who hath such a soldier in his train." Ascertaining the

name of the chivalrous knight, for his features were concealed by his closed vizor, the king immediately sent for him, restored him to his barony, and subsequently gave him permission to repair his castle of Baynard.

Baynard's Castle was almost entirely destroyed by fire in 1428, shortly after which period it was rebuilt by Humphrey Plantagenet, Duke of Gloucester, on whose attainder it again reverted to the Crown. The next occupant was Richard Plantagenet, Duke of York, who maintained no fewer than four hundred followers within its walls, and who carried on here his ambitious projects against the government of Henry the Sixth. After his death at the battle of Wakefield, Baynard's Castle descended by inheritance to his gallant son, the Earl of March, afterward Edward the Fourth. When, in 1640, the young prince entered London with the kingmaker, Warwick, we find him taking up his abode in his paternal mansion, and it was within its princely hall that he assumed the title of king, and summoned the bishops, peers, and magistrates in and about London to attend him in council.

In the garden of Baynard's Castle, Shakespeare places the secret interview between the Duke of York and the Earls of Salisbury and Warwick, in which the two latter acknowledged him as their rightful sovereign, and came to the determination to appeal to arms to enforce his claims:

"York. Now, my good lords of Salisbury and Warwick, Our simple supper ended, give me leave,

In this close walk to satisfy myself,

In craving your opinion of my title,

Which is infallible, to England's crown.

War. What plain proceeding is more plain than this? Henry doth claim the crown from John of Gaunt, The fourth son; York claims it from the third. Till Lionel's issue fails, his should not reign: It fails not yet; but flourishes in thee And in thy sons, fair slips of such a stock. Then, father Salisbury, kneel we together; And in this private plot be we the first That shall salute our rightful sovereign With honour of his birthright to the crown."

- King Henry VI. Part II., Act ii. Sc. 2.

Shortly after his accession to the throne, Edward the Fourth appears to have conferred Baynard's Castle upon his widowed mother, Cicely Neville, Duchess of York. Hither, for security, he brought his wife and children from their prison-sanctuary at Westminster in April, 1471. Here he slept that night, and the next day kept Good Friday with proper solemnity. Two days afterward, on Easter Sunday, he defeated Warwick at the battle of Barnet. Here, under his mother's roof, Richard, Duke of Gloucester held his councils in the interval between his brother's death and his own usurpation of the supreme authority, and here he was waited upon by his creature, the Duke of Buckingham, and the citizens, who vociferously called upon him to assume the crown. Shakespeare has again thrown an undying interest over the site of Baynard's Castle. Richard, with great apparent reluctance, presents himself at a gallery above, supported by a bishop on each side of him:

"Glou. Alas! why would you heap this care on me?

I am unfit for state and majesty ;

I do beseech you, take it not amiss;

I cannot nor I will not yield to you.

Buck. If you refuse it, as in love and zeal,
Loth to depose the child, your brother's son ;

As well we know your tenderness of heart
And gentle, kind, effeminate remorse,
Which we have noted in you to your kindred,
And equally, indeed, to all estates,

Yet know, whe'r you accept our suit or no,
Your brother's son shall never reign our king;
But we will plant some other in the throne,
To the disgrace and downfall of your house:
And in this resolution here we leave you.
Come, citizens, we will entreat no more.

[Exeunt Buckingham and Citizens. Catesby. Call them again, sweet prince; accept their

suit;

If you deny them, all the land will rue it.

Glou. Will you enforce me to a world of cares?
Call them again. I am not made of stone,
But penetrable to your kind entreaties.
Albeit against my conscience and my soul.

[Exit Catesby.

[Re-enter Buckingham and the rest. Cousin of Buckingham, and sage grave men, Since you will buckle fortune on my back, To bear the burthen, whether I will or no, I must have patience to endure the load: And if black scandal or foul-fac'd reproach Attend the sequel of your imposition, Your mere enforcement shall acquittance me From all the impure blots and stains thereof; For God doth know, and you may partly see, How far I am from that desire.