ion of the whole: he may have laid on some of the colors,
but the original design has a certain hardness and heaviness, very
unlike his usual style. Margaret of Anjou, as exhibited in these
tragedies, is a dramatic portrait of considerable truth, and vigor, and
consistency--but she is not one of Shakspeare's women. He who knew so
well in what true greatness of spirit consisted--who could excite our
respect and sympathy even for a Lady Macbeth, would never have given us
a heroine without a touch of heroism; he would not have portrayed a
high-hearted woman, struggling unsubdued against the strangest
vicissitudes of fortune, meeting reverses and disasters, such as would
have broken the most masculine spirit, with unshaken constancy, yet left
her without a single personal quality which would excite our interest in
her bravely-endured misfortunes; and this too in the very face of
history. He would not have given us, in lieu of the magnanimous queen,
the subtle and accomplished French woman, a mere "Amazonian trull," with
every coarser feature of depravity and ferocity; he would have redeemed
her from unmingled detestation; he would have breathed into her some of
his own sweet spirit--he would have given the woman a soul.

The old chronicler Hall informs us, that Queen Margaret "excelled all
other as well in beauty and favor, as in wit and policy, and was in
stomach and courage more like to a man than to a woman." He adds, that
after the espousals of Henry and Margaret, "the king's friends fell from
him; the lords of the realm fell in division among themselves; the
Commons rebelled against their natural prince; fields were foughten;
many thousands slain; and, finally, the king was deposed, and his son
slain, and his queen sent home again with as much misery and sorrow as
she was received with pomp and triumph."

This passage seems to have furnished the groundwork of the character as
it is developed in these plays with no great depth or skill. Margaret is
portrayed with all the exterior graces of her sex; as bold and artful,
with spirit to dare, resolution to act, and fortitude to endure; but
treacherous, haughty, dissembling, vindictive, and fierce. The bloody
struggle for power in which she was engaged, and the companionship of
the ruthless iron men around her, seem to have left her nothing of
womanhood but the heart of a mother--that last stronghold of our
feminine nature! So far the character is consistently drawn: it has