But by far the most stirring event in Hexham’s history was the battle which raged there in 1464. The Wars of the Roses do not form a pleasing episode in English history. They were pitiless, and treachery was mingled with bloodshed; desertions and executions were the accompaniment of every battle. Edward IV. was coldly cruel and unscrupulous, one of the blackest figures of a black time. But romance centres round Queen Margaret, the dauntless and resourceful wife of the feeble King Henry VI., with whom Edward disputed the throne. She it was who, making up for her husband’s weakness, urged ever bravely and hopefully the cause of her son. Thus she pressed on to the very end, till that son, worthy of his heroic mother, proudly answered the taunts of his base enemies, even though in their power, preferring speedy death to any lessening of his tragic dignity, and dying before the eyes of the successful and exultant Edward. In this fierce drama, Hexham was but an episode. The Lancastrians had scattered after their heavy defeat at Towton. Margaret in person had begged a little help of the King of Scotland, a little more of the King of France. The Borderland was favourable to her, and she gathered her forces together there, King Henry VI. staying in Alnwick Castle. Lord Montague, brother to the powerful but crafty Earl of Warwick, was warden of the East Marches for Edward, and he hastily collected the Yorkist forces. He was swift, able, and unscrupulous. He attacked a small body of Lancastrians on Hedgeley Moor, only ten miles from Alnwick, and defeated them, killing their leader, Sir Ralph Percy, son of Hotspur. As this gallant man died he consoled himself by saying, "I have saved the bird in my bosom," by which poetical phrase he meant that he had saved his honour by being true to his queen. In May the greater battle of Hexham was fought. King Henry was there in person, with the dauntless Queen Margaret and her son, and their brave general, the Duke of Somerset. They marched out of Hexham to attack Lord Montague; the battle began by the village of Linnels, on the south side of the Devil’s Water, a stream that runs into the Tyne. The fight was desperate, for both sides knew that no quarter would be given. It is said by some that the Scots, having no interest in the war, deserted Margaret; anyway, bit by bit the Lancastrians were forced back, to the very streets of Hexham itself, two miles away. In these narrow streets, in the quarter that is still called Battle Hill, the last desperate fighters on the side of the Red Rose made their final and unavailing stand. At last the remnant fled, and no doubt many a Hexham maid and dame, at the risk of her own life or limb, hid that day some devoted follower of Margaret.