by a burst of exultation and pride. He, of course, as now
the oldest surviving son, succeeded at once to all the rights and
titles which his father had enjoyed, and among these, according to the
ideas which his mother had instilled into his mind, was the right to
the crown. His heart, therefore, when the first feeling of grief for
the loss of his father had subsided, bounded with joy as he exclaimed,

"So now _I_ am the King of England."

The enthusiasm which he felt extended itself at once to all around
him. He immediately made preparations to put himself at the head of
his troops, and march to the eastward, so as to intercept Queen
Margaret on her way to London, for he knew that she would, of course,
now press forward toward the capital as fast as possible.

He accordingly set out at once upon his march, and, as he went on, he
found that the number of his followers increased very rapidly. The
truth was, that the queen's party, by their murder of Richard, and of
young Edmund his son, had gone altogether too far for the good of
their own cause. The people, when they heard the tidings, were
indignant at such cruelty. Those who belonged to the party of the
house of York, instead of being intimidated by the severity of the
measure, were exasperated at the brutality of it, and they were all
eager to join the young duke, Edward, and help him to avenge his
father's and his brother's death. Those who had been before on the
side of the house of Lancaster were discouraged and repelled, while
those who had been doubtful were now ready to declare against the
queen.

It is in this way that all excesses in the hour of victory defeat the
very ends they were intended to subserve. They weaken the
perpetrators, and not the subjects of them.

In the mean time, while young Edward, at the head of his army, was
marching on from the westward toward London to intercept the queen,
the Earl of Warwick, who has already been mentioned as a friend of
Lady Cecily, had also assembled a large force near London, and he was
now advancing toward the northward. The poor king was with him.
Nominally, the king was in command of the expedition, and every thing
was done in his name, but really he was a forlorn and helpless
prisoner, forced wholly against his will--so far as the feeble degree
of intellect which remained to him enabled him to exercise a will--to
seem to head an enterprise directed against his own wife, and his best
and strongest friend.