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diff --git a/7727-0.txt b/7727-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..4526c6e --- /dev/null +++ b/7727-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,27458 @@ +Project Gutenberg’s The Last Of The Barons, Complete, by Edward Bulwer-Lytton + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Last Of The Barons, Complete + +Author: Edward Bulwer-Lytton + +Release Date: March 16, 2009 [EBook #7727] +Last Updated: August 28, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAST OF THE BARONS, COMPLETE *** + + + + +Produced by Tapio Riikonen and David Widger + + + + + +THE LAST OF THE BARONS + +By Edward Bulwer Lytton + + + + +DEDICATORY EPISTLE. + +I dedicate to you, my indulgent Critic and long-tried Friend, the work +which owes its origin to your suggestion. Long since, you urged me +to attempt a fiction which might borrow its characters from our own +Records, and serve to illustrate some of those truths which History is +too often compelled to leave to the Tale-teller, the Dramatist, and the +Poet. Unquestionably, Fiction, when aspiring to something higher than +mere romance, does not pervert, but elucidate Facts. He who employs it +worthily must, like a biographer, study the time and the characters +he selects, with a minute and earnest diligence which the general +historian, whose range extends over centuries, can scarcely be +expected to bestow upon the things and the men of a single epoch. His +descriptions should fill up with colour and detail the cold outlines +of the rapid chronicler; and in spite of all that has been argued by +pseudo-critics, the very fancy which urged and animated his theme +should necessarily tend to increase the reader’s practical and familiar +acquaintance with the habits, the motives, and the modes of thought +which constitute the true idiosyncrasy of an age. More than all, to +Fiction is permitted that liberal use of Analogical Hypothesis which is +denied to History, and which, if sobered by research, and enlightened +by that knowledge of mankind (without which Fiction can neither harm +nor profit, for it becomes unreadable), tends to clear up much that +were otherwise obscure, and to solve the disputes and difficulties of +contradictory evidence by the philosophy of the human heart. + +My own impression of the greatness of the labour to which you invited me +made me the more diffident of success, inasmuch as the field of English +historical fiction had been so amply cultivated, not only by the most +brilliant of our many glorious Novelists, but by later writers of high +and merited reputation. But however the annals of our History have been +exhausted by the industry of romance, the subject you finally pressed +on my choice is unquestionably one which, whether in the delineation of +character, the expression of passion, or the suggestion of historical +truths, can hardly fail to direct the Novelist to paths wholly untrodden +by his predecessors in the Land of Fiction. + +Encouraged by you, I commenced my task; encouraged by you, I venture, +on concluding it, to believe that, despite the partial adoption of that +established compromise between the modern and the elder diction, +which Sir Walter Scott so artistically improved from the more rugged +phraseology employed by Strutt, and which later writers have perhaps +somewhat overhackneyed, I may yet have avoided all material trespass +upon ground which others have already redeemed from the waste. Whatever +the produce of the soil I have selected, I claim, at least, to have +cleared it with my own labour, and ploughed it with my own heifer. + +The reign of Edward IV. is in itself suggestive of new considerations +and unexhausted interest to those who accurately regard it. Then +commenced the policy consummated by Henry VII.; then were broken up the +great elements of the old feudal order; a new Nobility was called +into power, to aid the growing Middle Class in its struggles with the +ancient; and in the fate of the hero of the age, Richard Nevile, Earl of +Warwick, popularly called the King-maker, “the greatest as well as the +last of those mighty Barons who formerly overawed the Crown,” [Hume +adds, “and rendered the people incapable of civil government,”--a +sentence which, perhaps, judges too hastily the whole question at issue +in our earlier history, between the jealousy of the barons and the +authority of the king.] was involved the very principle of our existing +civilization. It adds to the wide scope of Fiction, which ever loves +to explore the twilight, that, as Hume has truly observed, “No part +of English history since the Conquest is so obscure, so uncertain, so +little authentic or consistent, as that of the Wars between the two +Roses.” It adds also to the importance of that conjectural research +in which Fiction may be made so interesting and so useful, that “this +profound darkness falls upon us just on the eve of the restoration of +letters;” [Hume] while amidst the gloom, we perceive the movement of +those great and heroic passions in which Fiction finds delineations +everlastingly new, and are brought in contact with characters +sufficiently familiar for interest, sufficiently remote for adaptation +to romance, and above all, so frequently obscured by contradictory +evidence, that we lend ourselves willingly to any one who seeks to help +our judgment of the individual by tests taken from the general knowledge +of mankind. + +Round the great image of the “Last of the Barons” group Edward the +Fourth, at once frank and false; the brilliant but ominous boyhood of +Richard the Third; the accomplished Hastings, “a good knight and gentle, +but somewhat dissolute of living;” [Chronicle of Edward V., in Stowe] +the vehement and fiery Margaret of Anjou; the meek image of her “holy +Henry,” and the pale shadow of their son. There may we see, also, the +gorgeous Prelate, refining in policy and wile, as the enthusiasm and +energy which had formerly upheld the Ancient Church pass into the +stern and persecuted votaries of the New; we behold, in that social +transition, the sober Trader--outgrowing the prejudices of the rude +retainer or rustic franklin, from whom he is sprung--recognizing +sagaciously, and supporting sturdily, the sectarian interests of his +order, and preparing the way for the mighty Middle Class, in which our +Modern Civilization, with its faults and its merits, has established its +stronghold; while, in contrast to the measured and thoughtful notions +of liberty which prudent Commerce entertains, we are reminded of the +political fanaticism of the secret Lollard,--of the jacquerie of the +turbulent mob-leader; and perceive, amidst the various tyrannies of the +time, and often partially allied with the warlike seignorie, [For it +is noticeable that in nearly all the popular risings--that of Cade, of +Robin of Redesdale, and afterwards of that which Perkin Warbeck made +subservient to his extraordinary enterprise--the proclamations of the +rebels always announced, among their popular grievances, the depression +of the ancient nobles and the elevation of new men.]--ever jealous +against all kingly despotism,--the restless and ignorant movement of a +democratic principle, ultimately suppressed, though not destroyed, under +the Tudors, by the strong union of a Middle Class, anxious for security +and order, with an Executive Authority determined upon absolute sway. + +Nor should we obtain a complete and comprehensive view of that most +interesting Period of Transition, unless we saw something of the +influence which the sombre and sinister wisdom of Italian policy +began to exercise over the councils of the great,--a policy of refined +stratagem, of complicated intrigue, of systematic falsehood, of +ruthless, but secret violence; a policy which actuated the fell +statecraft of Louis XI.; which darkened, whenever he paused to think and +to scheme, the gaudy and jovial character of Edward IV.; which appeared +in its fullest combination of profound guile and resolute will in +Richard III.; and, softened down into more plausible and specious +purpose by the unimpassioned sagacity of Henry VII., finally attained +the object which justified all its villanies to the princes of its +native land,--namely, the tranquillity of a settled State, and the +establishment of a civilized but imperious despotism. + +Again, in that twilight time, upon which was dawning the great invention +that gave to Letters and to Science the precision and durability of the +printed page, it is interesting to conjecture what would have been +the fate of any scientific achievement for which the world was less +prepared. The reception of printing into England chanced just at the +happy period when Scholarship and Literature were favoured by the great. +The princes of York, with the exception of Edward IV. himself, who had, +however, the grace to lament his own want of learning, and the taste +to appreciate it in others, were highly educated. The Lords Rivers and +Hastings [The erudite Lord Worcester had been one of Caxton’s warmest +patrons, but that nobleman was no more at the time in which printing is +said to have been actually introduced into England.] were accomplished +in all the “witte and lere” of their age. Princes and peers vied with +each other in their patronage of Caxton, and Richard III., during his +brief reign, spared no pains to circulate to the utmost the invention +destined to transmit his own memory to the hatred and the horror of all +succeeding time. But when we look around us, we see, in contrast to the +gracious and fostering reception of the mere mechanism by which +science is made manifest, the utmost intolerance to science itself. The +mathematics in especial are deemed the very cabala of the black art. +Accusations of witchcraft were never more abundant; and yet, strange +to say, those who openly professed to practise the unhallowed science, +[Nigromancy, or Sorcery, even took its place amongst the regular +callings. Thus, “Thomas Vandyke, late of Cambridge,” is styled (Rolls +Parl. 6, p. 273) Nigromancer as his profession.--Sharon Turner, “History +of England,” vol iv. p. 6. Burke, “History of Richard III.”] and +contrived to make their deceptions profitable to some unworthy political +purpose, appear to have enjoyed safety, and sometimes even honour, while +those who, occupied with some practical, useful, and noble pursuits +uncomprehended by prince or people, denied their sorcery were despatched +without mercy. The mathematician and astronomer Bolingbroke (the +greatest clerk of his age) is hanged and quartered as a wizard, while +not only impunity but reverence seems to have awaited a certain Friar +Bungey, for having raised mists and vapours, which greatly befriended +Edward IV. at the battle of Barnet. + +Our knowledge of the intellectual spirit of the age, therefore, only +becomes perfect when we contrast the success of the Impostor with the +fate of the true Genius. And as the prejudices of the populace ran high +against all mechanical contrivances for altering the settled conditions +of labour, [Even in the article of bonnets and hats, it appears that +certain wicked falling mills were deemed worthy of a special anathema in +the reign of Edward IV. These engines are accused of having sought, “by +subtle imagination,” the destruction of the original makers of hats and +bonnets by man’s strength,--that is, with hands and feet; and an act of +parliament was passed (22d of Edward IV.) to put down the fabrication +of the said hats and bonnets by mechanical contrivance.] so probably, +in the very instinct and destiny of Genius which ever drive it to a war +with popular prejudice, it would be towards such contrivances that a +man of great ingenuity and intellect, if studying the physical sciences, +would direct his ambition. + +Whether the author, in the invention he has assigned to his philosopher +(Adam Warner), has too boldly assumed the possibility of a conception so +much in advance of the time, they who have examined such of the works +of Roger Bacon as are yet given to the world can best decide; but +the assumption in itself belongs strictly to the most acknowledged +prerogatives of Fiction; and the true and important question will +obviously be, not whether Adam Warner could have constructed his model, +but whether, having so constructed it, the fate that befell him was +probable and natural. + +Such characters as I have here alluded to seemed, then, to me, in +meditating the treatment of the high and brilliant subject which your +eloquence animated me to attempt, the proper Representatives of the +multiform Truths which the time of Warwick the King-maker affords to our +interests and suggests for our instruction; and I can only wish that the +powers of the author were worthier of the theme. + +It is necessary that I now state briefly the foundation of the +Historical portions of this narrative. The charming and popular “History +of Hume,” which, however, in its treatment of the reign of Edward IV. is +more than ordinarily incorrect, has probably left upon the minds of many +of my readers, who may not have directed their attention to more +recent and accurate researches into that obscure period, an erroneous +impression of the causes which led to the breach between Edward IV. and +his great kinsman and subject, the Earl of Warwick. The general notion +is probably still strong that it was the marriage of the young king to +Elizabeth Gray, during Warwick’s negotiations in France for the alliance +of Bona of Savoy (sister-in-law to Louis XI.), which exasperated the +fiery earl, and induced his union with the House of Lancaster. All our +more recent historians have justly rejected this groundless fable, +which even Hume (his extreme penetration supplying the defects of his +superficial research) admits with reserve. [“There may even some doubt +arise with regard to the proposal of marriage made to Bona of Savoy,” + etc.--HUME, note to p. 222, vol. iii. edit. 1825.] A short summary of +the reasons for this rejection is given by Dr. Lingard, and annexed +below. [“Many writers tell us that the enmity of Warwick arose from his +disappointment caused by Edward’s clandestine marriage with Elizabeth. +If we may believe them, the earl was at the very time in France +negotiating on the part of the king a marriage with Bona of Savoy, +sister to the Queen of France; and having succeeded in his mission, +brought back with him the Count of Dampmartin as ambassador from Louis. +To me the whole story appears a fiction. 1. It is not to be found in the +more ancient historians. 2. Warwick was not at the time in France. On +the 20th of April, ten days before the marriage, he was employed in +negotiating a truce with the French envoys in London (Rym. xi. 521), and +on the 26th of May, about three weeks after it, was appointed to treat +of another truce with the King of Scots (Rym. xi. 424). 3. Nor could he +bring Dampmartin with him to England; for that nobleman was committed a +prisoner to the Bastile in September, 1463, and remained there till +May, 1465 (Monstrel. iii. 97, 109). Three contemporary and well-informed +writers, the two continuators of the History of Croyland and Wyrcester, +attribute his discontent to the marriages and honours granted to the +Wydeviles, and the marriage of the princess Margaret with the Duke of +Burgundy.”--LINGARD, vol. iii. c. 24, pp. 5, 19, 4to ed.] And, indeed, +it is a matter of wonder that so many of our chroniclers could have +gravely admitted a legend contradicted by all the subsequent conduct +of Warwick himself; for we find the earl specially doing honour to the +publication of Edward’s marriage, standing godfather to his first-born +(the Princess Elizabeth), employed as ambassador or acting as minister, +and fighting for Edward, and against the Lancastrians, during the five +years that elapsed between the coronation of Elizabeth and Warwick’s +rebellion. + +The real causes of this memorable quarrel, in which Warwick acquired his +title of King-maker, appear to have been these. + +It is probable enough, as Sharon Turner suggests, [Sharon Turner: +History of England, vol. iii. p. 269.] that Warwick was disappointed +that, since Edward chose a subject for his wife, he neglected the more +suitable marriage he might have formed with the earl’s eldest daughter; +and it is impossible but that the earl should have been greatly chafed, +in common with all his order, by the promotion of the queen’s relations, +[W. Wyr. 506, 7. Croyl. 542.] new men and apostate Lancastrians. But it +is clear that these causes for discontent never weakened his zeal for +Edward till the year 1467, when we chance upon the true origin of the +romance concerning Bona of Savoy, and the first open dissension between +Edward and the earl. + +In that year Warwick went to France, to conclude an alliance with Louis +XI., and to secure the hand of one of the French princes [Which of the +princes this was does not appear, and can scarcely be conjectured. The +“Pictorial History of England” (Book v. 102) in a tone of easy decision +says “it was one of the sons of Louis XI.” But Louis had no living +sons at all at the time. The Dauphin was not born till three years +afterwards. The most probable person was the Duke of Guienne, Louis’s +brother.] for Margaret, sister to Edward IV.; during this period, Edward +received the bastard brother of Charles, Count of Charolois, afterwards +Duke of Burgundy, and arranged a marriage between Margaret and the +count. + +Warwick’s embassy was thus dishonoured, and the dishonour was aggravated +by personal enmity to the bridegroom Edward had preferred. [The Croyland +Historian, who, as far as his brief and meagre record extends, is the +best authority for the time of Edward IV., very decidedly states the +Burgundian alliance to be the original cause of Warwick’s displeasure, +rather than the king’s marriage with Elizabeth: “Upon which (the +marriage of Margaret with Charolois) Richard Nevile, Earl of Warwick, +who had for so many years taken party with the French against the +Burgundians, conceived great indignation; and I hold this to be the +truer cause of his resentment than the king’s marriage with Elizabeth, +for he had rather have procured a husband for the aforesaid princess +Margaret in the kingdom of France.” The Croyland Historian also speaks +emphatically of the strong animosity existing between Charolois and +Warwick.--Cont. Croyl. 551.] The earl retired in disgust to his castle. +But Warwick’s nature, which Hume has happily described as one of +“undesigning frankness and openness,” [Hume, “Henry VI.,” vol. iii. p. +172, edit. 1825.] does not seem to have long harboured this +resentment. By the intercession of the Archbishop of York and others, +a reconciliation was effected, and the next year, 1468, we find Warwick +again in favour, and even so far forgetting his own former cause +of complaint as to accompany the procession in honour of Margaret’s +nuptials with his private foe. [Lingard.] In the following year, +however, arose the second dissension between the king and his +minister,--namely, in the king’s refusal to sanction the marriage of his +brother Clarence with the earl’s daughter Isabel,--a refusal which was +attended with a resolute opposition that must greatly have galled the +pride of the earl, since Edward even went so far as to solicit the Pope +to refuse his sanction, on the ground of relationship. [Carte. Wm. Wyr.] +The Pope, nevertheless, grants the dispensation, and the marriage takes +place at Calais. A popular rebellion then breaks out in England. Some of +Warwick’s kinsmen--those, however, belonging to the branch of the Nevile +family that had always been Lancastrians, and at variance with the +earl’s party--are found at its head. The king, who is in imminent +danger, writes a supplicating letter to Warwick to come to his aid. +[“Paston Letters,” cxcviii. vol. ii., Knight’s ed. See Lingard, c. 24, +for the true date of Edward’s letters to Warwick, Clarence, and +the Archbishop of York.] The earl again forgets former causes for +resentment, hastens from Calais, rescues the king, and quells the +rebellion by the influence of his popular name. + +We next find Edward at Warwick’s castle of Middleham, where, according +to some historians, he is forcibly detained,--an assertion treated by +others as a contemptible invention. This question will be examined +in the course of this work; [See Note II.] but whatever the true +construction of the story, we find that Warwick and the king are still +on such friendly terms, that the earl marches in person against a +rebellion on the borders, obtains a signal victory, and that the rebel +leader (the earl’s own kinsman) is beheaded by Edward at York. We +find that, immediately after this supposed detention, Edward speaks of +Warwick and his brothers “as his best friends;” [“Paston Letters,” cciv. +vol. ii., Knight’s ed. The date of this letter, which puzzled the worthy +annotator, is clearly to be referred to Edward’s return from York, +after his visit to Middleham in 1469. No mention is therein made by +the gossiping contemporary of any rumour that Edward had suffered +imprisonment. He enters the city in state, as having returned safe and +victorious from a formidable rebellion. The letter goes on to say: “The +king himself hath (that is, holds) good language of the Lords Clarence, +of Warwick, etc., saying ‘they be his best friends.’” Would he say +this if just escaped from a prison? Sir John Paston, the writer of +the letter, adds, it is true, “But his household men have (hold) other +language.” very probably, for the household men were the court creatures +always at variance with Warwick, and held, no doubt, the same language +they had been in the habit of holding before.] that he betroths his +eldest daughter to Warwick’s nephew, the male heir of the family. And +then suddenly, only three months afterwards (in February, 1470), and +without any clear and apparent cause, we find Warwick in open rebellion, +animated by a deadly hatred to the king, refusing, from first to last, +all overtures of conciliation; and so determined is his vengeance, +that he bows a pride, hitherto morbidly susceptible, to the vehement +insolence of Margaret of Anjou, and forms the closest alliance with +the Lancastrian party, in the destruction of which his whole life had +previously been employed. + +Here, then, where History leaves us in the dark, where our curiosity +is the most excited, Fiction gropes amidst the ancient chronicles, and +seeks to detect and to guess the truth. And then Fiction, accustomed +to deal with the human heart, seizes upon the paramount importance of +a Fact which the modern historian has been contented to place amongst +dubious and collateral causes of dissension. We find it broadly and +strongly stated by Hall and others, that Edward had coarsely attempted +the virtue of one of the earl’s female relations. “And farther it erreth +not from the truth,” says Hall, “that the king did attempt a thing once +in the earl’s house, which was much against the earl’s honesty; but +whether it was the daughter or the niece,” adds the chronicler, “was +not, for both their honours, openly known; but surely such a thing WAS +attempted by King Edward,” etc. + +Any one at all familiar with Hall (and, indeed, with all our principal +chroniclers, except Fabyan), will not expect any accurate precision as +to the date he assigns for the outrage. He awards to it, therefore, the +same date he erroneously gives to Warwick’s other grudges (namely, a +period brought some years lower by all judicious historians) a date at +which Warwick was still Edward’s fastest friend. + +Once grant the probability of this insult to the earl (the probability +is conceded at once by the more recent historians, and received without +scruple as a fact by Rapia, Habington, and Carte), and the whole +obscurity which involves this memorable quarrel vanishes at once. +Here was, indeed, a wrong never to be forgiven, and yet never to be +proclaimed. As Hall implies, the honour of the earl was implicated in +hushing the scandal, and the honour of Edward in concealing the offence. +That if ever the insult were attempted, it must have been just previous +to the earl’s declared hostility is clear. Offences of that kind +hurry men to immediate action at the first, or else, if they stoop to +dissimulation the more effectually to avenge afterwards, the outbreak +bides its seasonable time. But the time selected by the earl for his +outbreak was the very worst he could have chosen, and attests the +influence of a sudden passion,--a new and uncalculated cause of +resentment. He had no forces collected; he had not even sounded his own +brother-in-law, Lord Stanley (since he was uncertain of his intentions); +while, but a few months before, had he felt any desire to dethrone the +king, he could either have suffered him to be crushed by the popular +rebellion the earl himself had quelled, or have disposed of his person +as he pleased when a guest at his own castle of Middleham. His evident +want of all preparation and forethought--a want which drove into rapid +and compulsory flight from England the baron to whose banner, a few +months afterwards, flocked sixty thousand men--proves that the cause of +his alienation was fresh and recent. + +If, then, the cause we have referred to, as mentioned by Hall and +others, seems the most probable we can find (no other cause for such +abrupt hostility being discernible), the date for it must be placed +where it is in this work,--namely, just prior to the earl’s revolt. The +next question is, who could have been the lady thus offended, whether +a niece or daughter. Scarcely a niece, for Warwick had one married +brother, Lord Montagu, and several sisters; but the sisters were married +to lords who remained friendly to Edward, [Except the sisters married to +Lord Fitzhugh and Lord Oxford. But though Fitzhugh, or rather his son, +broke into rebellion, it was for some cause in which Warwick did not +sympathize, for by Warwick himself was that rebellion put down; nor +could the aggrieved lady have been a daughter of Lord Oxford, for he was +a stanch, though not avowed, Lancastrian, and seems to have carefully +kept aloof from the court.] and Montagu seems to have had no daughter +out of childhood, [Montagu’s wife could have been little more than +thirty at the time of his death. She married again, and had a family by +her second husband.] while that nobleman himself did not share Warwick’s +rebellion at the first, but continued to enjoy the confidence of Edward. +We cannot reasonably, then, conceive the uncle to have been so much more +revengeful than the parents,--the legitimate guardians of the honour +of a daughter. It is, therefore, more probable that the insulted maiden +should have been one of Lord Warwick’s daughters; and this is the +general belief. Carte plainly declares it was Isabel. But Isabel it +could hardly have been. She was then married to Edward’s brother, the +Duke of Clarence, and within a month of her confinement. The earl had +only one other daughter, Anne, then in the flower of her youth; and +though Isabel appears to have possessed a more striking character of +beauty, Anne must have had no inconsiderable charms to have won the +love of the Lancastrian Prince Edward, and to have inspired a tender and +human affection in Richard Duke of Gloucester. [Not only does Majerus, +the Flemish annalist, speak of Richard’s early affection to Anne, but +Richard’s pertinacity in marrying her, at a time when her family was +crushed and fallen, seems to sanction the assertion. True, that Richard +received with her a considerable portion of the estates of her parents. +But both Anne herself and her parents were attainted, and the whole +property at the disposal of the Crown. Richard at that time had +conferred the most important services on Edward. He had remained +faithful to him during the rebellion of Clarence; he had been the +hero of the day both at Barnet and Tewksbury. His reputation was then +exceedingly high, and if he had demanded, as a legitimate reward, +the lands of Middleham, without the bride, Edward could not well have +refused them. He certainly had a much better claim than the only other +competitor for the confiscated estates,--namely, the perjured and +despicable Clarence. For Anne’s reluctance to marry Richard, and the +disguise she assumed, see Miss Strickland’s “Life of Anne of Warwick.” + For the honour of Anne, rather than of Richard, to whose memory one +crime more or less matters but little, it may here be observed that +so far from there being any ground to suppose that Gloucester was an +accomplice in the assassination of the young prince Edward of Lancaster, +there is some ground to believe that that prince was not assassinated at +all, but died (as we would fain hope the grandson of Henry V. did +die) fighting manfully in the field.--“Harleian Manuscripts;” Stowe, +“Chronicle of Tewksbury;” Sharon Turner, vol. iii. p. 335.] It is also +noticeable, that when, not as Shakspeare represents, but after long +solicitation, and apparently by positive coercion, Anne formed her +second marriage, she seems to have been kept carefully by Richard from +his gay brother’s court, and rarely, if ever, to have appeared in London +till Edward was no more. + +That considerable obscurity should always rest upon the facts connected +with Edward’s meditated crime,--that they should never be published +amongst the grievances of the haughty rebel is natural from the very +dignity of the parties, and the character of the offence; that in such +obscurity sober History should not venture too far on the hypothesis +suggested by the chronicler, is right and laudable. But probably it will +be conceded by all, that here Fiction finds its lawful province, and +that it may reasonably help, by no improbable nor groundless conjecture, +to render connected and clear the most broken and the darkest fragments +of our annals. + +I have judged it better partially to forestall the interest of the +reader in my narrative, by stating thus openly what he may expect, than +to encounter the far less favourable impression (if he had been hitherto +a believer in the old romance of Bona of Savoy), [I say the old romance +of Bona of Savoy, so far as Edward’s rejection of her hand for that +of Elizabeth Gray is stated to have made the cause of his quarrel with +Warwick. But I do not deny the possibility that such a marriage had +been contemplated and advised by Warwick, though he neither sought +to negotiate it, nor was wronged by Edward’s preference of his fair +subject.] that the author was taking an unwarrantable liberty with the +real facts, when, in truth, it is upon the real facts, as far as they +can be ascertained, that the author has built his tale, and his boldest +inventions are but deductions from the amplest evidence he could +collect. Nay, he even ventures to believe, that whoever hereafter shall +write the history of Edward IV. will not disdain to avail himself of +some suggestions scattered throughout these volumes, and tending to +throw new light upon the events of that intricate but important period. + +It is probable that this work will prove more popular in its nature +than my last fiction of “Zanoni,” which could only be relished by those +interested in the examinations of the various problems in human life +which it attempts to solve. But both fictions, however different and +distinct their treatment, are constructed on those principles of art +to which, in all my later works, however imperfect my success, I have +sought at least steadily to adhere. + +To my mind, a writer should sit down to compose a fiction as a painter +prepares to compose a picture. His first care should be the conception +of a whole as lofty as his intellect can grasp, as harmonious and +complete as his art can accomplish; his second care, the character of +the interest which the details are intended to sustain. + +It is when we compare works of imagination in writing with works of +imagination on the canvas, that we can best form a critical idea of the +different schools which exist in each; for common both to the author +and the painter are those styles which we call the Familiar, the +Picturesque, and the Intellectual. By recurring to this comparison we +can, without much difficulty, classify works of Fiction in their +proper order, and estimate the rank they should severally hold. The +Intellectual will probably never be the most widely popular for the +moment. He who prefers to study in this school must be prepared for much +depreciation, for its greatest excellences, even if he achieve them, are +not the most obvious to the many. In discussing, for instance, a modern +work, we hear it praised, perhaps, for some striking passage, some +prominent character; but when do we ever hear any comment on its harmony +of construction, on its fulness of design, on its ideal character,--on +its essentials, in short, as a work of art? What we hear most valued in +the picture, we often find the most neglected in the book,--namely, the +composition; and this, simply because in England painting is recognized +as an art, and estimated according to definite theories; but in +literature we judge from a taste never formed, from a thousand +prejudices and ignorant predilections. We do not yet comprehend that the +author is an artist, and that the true rules of art by which he should +be tested are precise and immutable. Hence the singular and fantastic +caprices of the popular opinion,--its exaggerations of praise or +censure, its passion and reaction. At one while, its solemn contempt for +Wordsworth; at another, its absurd idolatry. At one while we are stunned +by the noisy celebrity of Byron, at another we are calmly told that he +can scarcely be called a poet. Each of these variations in the public is +implicitly followed by the vulgar criticism; and as a few years back our +journals vied with each other in ridiculing Wordsworth for the faults +which he did not possess, they vie now with each other in eulogiums upon +the merits which he has never displayed. + +These violent fluctuations betray both a public and a criticism utterly +unschooled in the elementary principles of literary art, and entitle the +humblest author to dispute the censure of the hour, while they ought to +render the greatest suspicious of its praise. + +It is, then, in conformity, not with any presumptuous conviction of his +own superiority, but with his common experience and common-sense, that +every author who addresses an English audience in serious earnest is +permitted to feel that his final sentence rests not with the jury before +which he is first heard. The literary history of the day consists of a +series of judgments set aside. + +But this uncertainty must more essentially betide every student, however +lowly, in the school I have called the Intellectual, which must ever +be more or less at variance with the popular canons. It is its hard +necessity to vex and disturb the lazy quietude of vulgar taste; for +unless it did so, it could neither elevate nor move. He who resigns the +Dutch art for the Italian must continue through the dark to explore +the principles upon which he founds his design, to which he adapts his +execution; in hope or in despondence still faithful to the theory which +cares less for the amount of interest created than for the sources from +which the interest is to be drawn; seeking in action the movement of the +grander passions or the subtler springs of conduct, seeking in repose +the colouring of intellectual beauty. + +The Low and the High of Art are not very readily comprehended. They +depend not upon the worldly degree or the physical condition of the +characters delineated; they depend entirely upon the quality of the +emotion which the characters are intended to excite,--namely, whether of +sympathy for something low, or of admiration for something high. There +is nothing high in a boor’s head by Teniers, there is nothing low in +a boor’s head by Guido. What makes the difference between the two? The +absence or presence of the Ideal! But every one can judge of the +merit of the first, for it is of the Familiar school; it requires a +connoisseur to see the merit of the last, for it is of the Intellectual. + +I have the less scrupled to leave these remarks to cavil or to sarcasm, +because this fiction is probably the last with which I shall trespass +upon the Public, and I am desirous that it shall contain, at least, my +avowal of the principles upon which it and its later predecessors have +been composed. You know well, however others may dispute the fact, +the earnestness with which those principles have been meditated and +pursued,--with high desire, if but with poor results. + +It is a pleasure to feel that the aim, which I value more than the +success, is comprehended by one whose exquisite taste as a critic +is only impaired by that far rarer quality,--the disposition to +over-estimate the person you profess to esteem! Adieu, my sincere and +valued friend; and accept, as a mute token of gratitude and regard, +these flowers gathered in the Garden where we have so often roved +together. E. L. B. + + LONDON, January, 1843. + + + + +PREFACE TO THE LAST OF THE BARONS + +This was the first attempt of the author in Historical Romance upon +English ground. Nor would he have risked the disadvantage of comparison +with the genius of Sir Walter Scott, had he not believed that that great +writer and his numerous imitators had left altogether unoccupied the +peculiar field in Historical Romance which the Author has here sought to +bring into cultivation. In “The Last of the Barons,” as in “Harold,” + the aim has been to illustrate the actual history of the period, and +to bring into fuller display than general History itself has done the +characters of the principal personages of the time, the motives by which +they were probably actuated, the state of parties, the condition of +the people, and the great social interests which were involved in what, +regarded imperfectly, appear but the feuds of rival factions. + +“The Last of the Barons” has been by many esteemed the best of the +Author’s romances; and perhaps in the portraiture of actual character, +and the grouping of the various interests and agencies of the time, it +may have produced effects which render it more vigorous and lifelike +than any of the other attempts in romance by the same hand. + +It will be observed that the purely imaginary characters introduced are +very few; and, however prominent they may appear, still, in order not +to interfere with the genuine passions and events of history, they are +represented as the passive sufferers, not the active agents, of the +real events. Of these imaginary characters, the most successful is +Adam Warner, the philosopher in advance of his age; indeed, as an ideal +portrait, I look upon it as the most original in conception, and the +most finished in execution, of any to be found in my numerous prose +works, “Zanoni” alone excepted. + +For the rest, I venture to think that the general reader will obtain +from these pages a better notion of the important age, characterized by +the decline of the feudal system, and immediately preceding that great +change in society which we usually date from the accession of Henry +VII., than he could otherwise gather, without wading through a vast mass +of neglected chronicles and antiquarian dissertations. + + + + +TABLE OF CONTENTS + + BOOK I + + THE ADVENTURES OF MASTER MARMADUKE NEVILE + + CHAPTER + + I The Pastime-ground of old Cockaigne + II The Broken Gittern + III The Trader and the Gentle; or, the Changing Generation + IV Ill fares the Country Mouse in the Traps of Town + V Weal to the Idler, Woe to the Workman + VI Master Marmaduke Nevile fears for the Spiritual Weal of his + Host and Hostess + VII There is a Rod for the Back of every Fool who would be Wiser + than his Generation + + BOOK II + + THE KING’S COURT + + CHAPTER + + I Earl Warwick the King-maker + II King Edward the Fourth + III The Antechamber + + BOOK III + + IN WHICH THE HISTORY PASSES FROM THE KING’S COURT TO THE STUDENT’S + CELL, AND RELATES THE PERILS THAT BEFELL A PHILOSOPHER FOR + MEDDLING WITH THE AFFAIRS OF THE WORLD + + CHAPTER + + I The Solitary Sage and the Solitary Maid + II Master Adam Warner grows a Miser, and behaves Shamefully + III A Strange Visitor--All Ages of the World breed World- + Betters + IV Lord Hastings + V Master Adam Warner and King Henry the Sixth + VI How, on leaving King Log, Foolish Wisdom runs a-muck on + King Stork + VII My Lady Duchess’s Opinion of the Utility of Master Warner’s + Invention, and her esteem for its Explosion + VIII The Old Woman talks of Sorrows, the Young Woman dreams + of Love; the Courtier flies from Present Power to + Remembrances of Past Hopes, and the World-Bettered opens + Utopia, with a View of the Gibbet for the Silly Sage he + has seduced into his Schemes,--so, ever and evermore, + runs the World away + IX How the Destructive Organ of Prince Richard promises Goodly + Development + + BOOK IV + + INTRIGUES OF THE COURT OF EDWARD IV + + CHAPTER + + I Margaret of Anjou + II In which are laid Open to the Reader the Character of Edward + the Fourth and that of his Court, with the Machinations of + the Woodvilles against the Earl of Warwick + III Wherein Master Nicholas Alwyn visits the Court, and there + learns Matter of which the Acute Reader will judge for + himself + IV Exhibiting the Benefits which Royal Patronage confers on + Genius,--also the Early Loves of the Lord Hastings; with + other Matters Edifying and Delectable + V The Woodville Intrigue prospers--Montagu confers with + Hastings, visits the Archbishop of York, and is met on the + Road by a strange Personage + VI The Arrival of the Count de la Roche, and the various + Excitement produced on many Personages by that Event + VII The Renowned Combat between Sir Anthony Woodville and the + Bastard of Burgundy + VIII How the Bastard of Burgundy prospered more in his Policy than + With the Pole-axe--and how King Edward holds his Summer + Chase in the Fair Groves of Shene + IX The Great Actor returns to fill the Stage + X How the Great Lords come to the King-maker, and with what + Proffers + + BOOK V + + THE LAST OF THE BARONS IN HIS FATHERS HALLS + + CHAPTER + + I Rural England in the Middle Ages--Noble Visitors seek the + Castle + Of Middleham + II Councils and Musings + III The Sisters + IV The Destrier + + BOOK VI + + WHEREIN ARE OPENED SOME GLIMPSES OF THE FATE BELOW THAT ATTENDS THOSE + WHO ARE BETTER THAN OTHERS, AND THOSE WHO DESIRE TO MAKE OTHERS + BETTER. LOVE, DEMAGOGY, AND SCIENCE ALL EQUALLY OFF-SPRING OF THE + SAME PROLIFIC DELUSION,--NAMELY, THAT MEAN SOULS (THE EARTH’S + MAJORITY) ARE WORTH THE HOPE AND THE AGONY OF NOBLE SOULS, THE + EVERLASTING SUFFERING AND ASPIRING FEW. + + CHAPTER + I New Dissentions + II The Would-be Improvers of Jove’s Football, Earth--The Sad + Father and the Sad Child--The Fair Rivals + III Wherein the Demagogue seeks the Courtier + IV Sibyll + V Katherine + VI Joy for Adam, and Hope for Sibyll--and Popular Friar Bungey! + VII A Love Scene + + BOOK VII + + THE POPULAR REBELLION + + CHAPTER + + I The White Lion of March shakes his Mane + II The Camp at Olney + III The Camp of the Rebels + IV The Norman Earl and the Saxon Demagogue confer + V What Faith Edward IV purposeth to keep with Earl and People + VI What befalls King Edward on his Escape from Olney + VII How King Edward arrives at the Castle of Middleham + VIII The Ancients rightly gave to the Goddess of Eloquence a Crown + IX Wedded Confidence and Love--the Earl and the Prelate--the + Prelate and the King--Schemes--Wiles--and the Birth of a + Dark Thought destined to eclipse a Sun + + BOOK VIII + + IN WHICH THE LAST LINK BETWEEN KING-MAKER AND KING SNAPS ASUNDER + + CHAPTER + + I The Lady Anne visits the Court + II The Sleeping Innocence--the Wakeful Crime + III New Dangers to the House of York--and the King’s Heart + allies itself with Rebellion against the King’s Throne + IV The Foster-brothers + V The Lover and the Gallant--Woman’s Choice + VI Warwick returns-appeases a Discontented Prince-and confers + with a Revengeful Conspirator + VII The Fear and the Flight + VIII The Group round the Death-bed of the Lancastrian Widow + + BOOK IX. + + THE WANDERERS AND THE EXILES + + CHAPTER + + I How the Great Baron becomes as Great a Rebel + II Many Things briefly told + III The Plot of the Hostelry--the Maid and the Scholar in + their Home + IV The World’s Justice, and the Wisdom of our Ancestors + V The Fugitives are captured--the Tymbesteres reappear-- + Moonlight on the Revel of the Living--Moonlight on the + Slumber of the Dead + + VI The Subtle Craft of Richard of Gloucester + VII Warwick and his Family in Exile + VIII How the Heir of Lancaster meets the King-maker + IX The Interview of Earl Warwick and Queen Margaret + X Love and Marriage--Doubts of Conscience--Domestic Jealousy-- + and Household Treason + + BOOK X. + + THE RETURN OF THE KING-MAKER + + CHAPTER + + I The Maid’s Hope, the Courtier’s Love, and the Sage’s Comfort + II The Man awakes in the Sage, and the She-wolf again hath + tracked the Lamb + III Virtuous Resolves submitted to the Test of Vanity and the + World + IV The Strife which Sibyll had courted, between Katherine and + herself, commences in Serious Earnest + V The Meeting of Hastings and Katherine + VI Hastings learns what has befallen Sibyll, repairs to the + King, and encounters an old Rival + VII The Landing of Lord Warwick, and the Events that ensue + thereon + VIII What befell Adam Warner and Sibyll when made subject to the + Great Friar Bungey + IX The Deliberations of Mayor and Council, while Lord Warwick + marches upon London + X The Triumphal Entry of the Earl--the Royal Captive in the + Tower--the Meeting between King-maker and King + XI The Tower in Commotion + + BOOK XI + + THE NEW POSITION OF THE KING-MAKER + + CHAPTER + + I Wherein Master Adam Warner is notably commended and + advanced--and Greatness says to Wisdom, “Thy Destiny + be mine, Amen” + II The Prosperity of the Outer Show--the Cares of the Inner Man + III Further Views into the Heart of Man, and the Conditions + of Power + IV The Return of Edward of York + V The Progress of the Plantagenet + VI Lord Warwick, with the Foe in the field and the Traitor at + The Hearth + + BOOK XII + + THE BATTLE OF BARNET + + CHAPTER + + I A King in his City hopes to recover his Realm--A Woman in + her Chamber fears to forfeit her own + II Sharp is the Kiss of the Falcon’s Bear + III A Pause + IV-VI The Battle + VII The last Pilgrims in the long Procession to the Common Bourne + + + + +BOOK I. THE ADVENTURES OF MASTER MARMADUKE NEVILE. + + + + +CHAPTER I. THE PASTIME-GROUND OF OLD COCKAIGNE. + +Westward, beyond the still pleasant, but even then no longer solitary, +hamlet of Charing, a broad space, broken here and there by scattered +houses and venerable pollards, in the early spring of 1467, presented +the rural scene for the sports and pastimes of the inhabitants of +Westminster and London. Scarcely need we say that open spaces for the +popular games and diversions were then numerous in the suburbs of the +metropolis,--grateful to some the fresh pools of Islington; to others, +the grass-bare fields of Finsbury; to all, the hedgeless plains of vast +Mile-end. But the site to which we are now summoned was a new and maiden +holiday-ground, lately bestowed upon the townsfolk of Westminster by the +powerful Earl of Warwick. + +Raised by a verdant slope above the low, marsh-grown soil of +Westminster, the ground communicated to the left with the Brook-fields, +through which stole the peaceful Ty-bourne, and commanded prospects, +on all sides fair, and on each side varied. Behind, rose the twin green +hills of Hampstead and Highgate, with the upland park and chase of +Marybone,--its stately manor-house half hid in woods. In front might be +seen the Convent of the Lepers, dedicated to Saint James, now a palace; +then to the left, York House, [The residence of the Archbishops of +York] now Whitehall; farther on, the spires of Westminster Abbey and the +gloomy tower of the Sanctuary; next, the Palace, with its bulwark and +vawmure, soaring from the river; while eastward, and nearer to +the scene, stretched the long, bush-grown passage of the Strand, +picturesquely varied with bridges, and flanked to the right by the +embattled halls of feudal nobles, or the inns of the no less powerful +prelates; while sombre and huge amidst hall and inn, loomed the gigantic +ruins of the Savoy, demolished in the insurrection of Wat Tyler. Farther +on, and farther yet, the eye wandered over tower and gate, and arch +and spire, with frequent glimpses of the broad sunlit river, and the +opposite shore crowned by the palace of Lambeth, and the Church of St. +Mary Overies, till the indistinct cluster of battlements around the +Fortress-Palatine bounded the curious gaze. As whatever is new is for +a while popular, so to this pastime-ground, on the day we treat of, +flocked, not only the idlers of Westminster, but the lordly dwellers of +Ludgate and the Flete, and the wealthy citizens of tumultuous Chepe. + +The ground was well suited to the purpose to which it was devoted. +About the outskirts, indeed, there were swamps and fish-pools; but a +considerable plot towards the centre presented a level sward, already +worn bare and brown by the feet of the multitude. From this, towards +the left, extended alleys, some recently planted, intended to afford, +in summer, cool and shady places for the favourite game of bowls; while +scattered clumps, chiefly of old pollards, to the right broke the space +agreeably enough into detached portions, each of which afforded its +separate pastime or diversion. Around were ranged many carts, or wagons; +horses of all sorts and value were led to and fro, while their owners +were at sport. Tents, awnings, hostelries, temporary buildings, stages +for showmen and jugglers, abounded, and gave the scene the appearance of +a fair; but what particularly now demands our attention was a broad plot +in the ground, dedicated to the noble diversion of archery. The reigning +House of York owed much of its military success to the superiority of +the bowmen under its banners, and the Londoners themselves were jealous +of their reputation in this martial accomplishment. For the last fifty +years, notwithstanding the warlike nature of the times, the practice of +the bow, in the intervals of peace, had been more neglected than seemed +wise to the rulers. Both the king and his loyal city had of late taken +much pains to enforce the due exercise of “Goddes instrumente,” [So +called emphatically by Bishop Latimer, in his celebrated Sixth Sermon.] +upon which an edict had declared that “the liberties and honour of +England principally rested!” + +And numerous now was the attendance, not only of the citizens, +the burghers, and the idle populace, but of the gallant nobles who +surrounded the court of Edward IV., then in the prime of his youth,--the +handsomest, the gayest, and the bravest prince in Christendom. + +The royal tournaments (which were, however, waning from their ancient +lustre to kindle afresh, and to expire in the reigns of the succeeding +Tudors), restricted to the amusements of knight and noble, no doubt +presented more of pomp and splendour than the motley and mixed assembly +of all ranks that now grouped around the competitors for the silver +arrow, or listened to the itinerant jongleur, dissour, or minstrel, or, +seated under the stunted shade of the old trees, indulged, with eager +looks and hands often wandering to their dagger-hilts, in the absorbing +passion of the dice; but no later and earlier scenes of revelry ever, +perhaps, exhibited that heartiness of enjoyment, that universal holiday, +which attended this mixture of every class, that established a rude +equality for the hour between the knight and the retainer, the burgess +and the courtier. + +The revolution that placed Edward IV. upon the throne had, in fact, been +a popular one. Not only had the valour and moderation of his father, +Richard, Duke of York, bequeathed a heritage of affection to his brave +and accomplished son; not only were the most beloved of the great barons +the leaders of his party; but the king himself, partly from inclination, +partly from policy, spared no pains to win the good graces of that +slowly rising, but even then important part of the population,--the +Middle Class. He was the first king who descended, without loss of +dignity and respect, from the society of his peers and princes, to join +familiarly in the feasts and diversions of the merchant and the trader. +The lord mayor and council of London were admitted, on more than one +solemn occasion, into the deliberations of the court; and Edward had not +long since, on the coronation of his queen, much to the discontent of +certain of his barons, conferred the Knighthood of the hath upon four of +the citizens. On the other hand, though Edward’s gallantries--the +only vice which tended to diminish his popularity with the sober +burgesses--were little worthy of his station, his frank, joyous +familiarity with his inferiors was not debased by the buffooneries +that had led to the reverses and the awful fate of two of his royal +predecessors. There must have been a popular principle, indeed, as well +as a popular fancy, involved in the steady and ardent adherence which +the population of London in particular, and most of the great cities, +exhibited to the person and the cause of Edward IV. There was a feeling +that his reign was an advance in civilization upon the monastic virtues +of Henry VI., and the stern ferocity which accompanied the great +qualities of “The Foreign Woman,” as the people styled and regarded +Henry’s consort, Margaret of Anjou. While thus the gifts, the courtesy, +and the policy of the young sovereign made him popular with the middle +classes, he owed the allegiance of the more powerful barons and the +favour of the rural population to a man who stood colossal amidst the +iron images of the Age,--the greatest and the last of the old Norman +chivalry, kinglier in pride, in state, in possessions, and in renown +than the king himself, Richard Nevile, Earl of Salisbury and Warwick. + +This princely personage, in the full vigour of his age, possessed all +the attributes that endear the noble to the commons. His valour in the +field was accompanied with a generosity rare in the captains of the +time. He valued himself on sharing the perils and the hardships of his +meanest soldier. His haughtiness to the great was not incompatible +with frank affability to the lowly. His wealth was enormous, but it +was equalled by his magnificence, and rendered popular by his lavish +hospitality. No less than thirty thousand persons are said to have +feasted daily at the open tables with which he allured to his countless +castles the strong hands and grateful hearts of a martial and unsettled +population. More haughty than ambitious, he was feared because he +avenged all affront; and yet not envied, because he seemed above all +favour. + +The holiday on the archery-ground was more than usually gay, for the +rumour had spread from the court to the city that Edward was about to +increase his power abroad, and to repair what he had lost in the eyes of +Europe through his marriage with Elizabeth Gray, by allying his sister +Margaret with the brother of Louis XI., and that no less a person than +the Earl of Warwick had been the day before selected as ambassador on +the important occasion. + +Various opinions were entertained upon the preference given to France +in this alliance over the rival candidate for the hand of the +princess,--namely, the Count de Charolois, afterwards Charles the Bold, +Duke of Burgundy. + +“By ‘r Lady,” said a stout citizen about the age of fifty, “but I am not +over pleased with this French marriage-making! I would liefer the stout +earl were going to France with bows and bills than sarcenets and satins. +What will become of our trade with Flanders,--answer me that, Master +Stokton? The House of York is a good House, and the king is a good king, +but trade is trade. Every man must draw water to his own mill.” + +“Hush, Master Heyford!” said a small lean man in a light-gray surcoat. +“The king loves not talk about what the king does. ‘T is ill jesting +with lions. Remember William Walker, hanged for saying his son should be +heir to the crown.” + +“Troth,” answered Master Heyford, nothing daunted, for he belonged to +one of the most powerful corporations of London,--“it was but a scurvy +Pepperer [old name for Grocer] who made that joke; but a joke from a +worshipful goldsmith, who has moneys and influence, and a fair wife of +his own, whom the king himself has been pleased to commend, is another +guess sort of matter. But here is my grave-visaged headman, who always +contrives to pick up the last gossip astir, and has a deep eye into +millstones. Why, ho, there! Alwyn--I say, Nicholas Alwyn!--who would +have thought to see thee with that bow, a good half-ell taller than +thyself? Methought thou wert too sober and studious for such man-at-arms +sort of devilry.” + +“An’ it please you, Master Heyford,” answered the person thus +addressed,--a young man, pale and lean, though sinewy and large-boned, +with a countenance of great intelligence, but a slow and somewhat formal +manner of speech, and a strong provincial accent,--“an’ it please you, +King Edward’s edict ordains every Englishman to have a bow of his +own height; and he who neglects the shaft on a holiday forfeiteth one +halfpenny and some honour. For the rest, methinks that the citizens of +London will become of more worth and potency every year; and it shall +not be my fault if I do not, though but a humble headman to your +worshipful mastership, help to make them so.” + +“Why, that’s well said, lad; but if the Londoners prosper, it is because +they have nobles in their gipsires, [a kind of pouch worn at the girdle] +not bows in their hands.” + +“Thinkest thou then, Master Heyford, that any king at a pinch would +leave them the gipsire, if they could not protect it with the bow? That +Age may have gold, let not Youth despise iron.” + +“Body o’ me!” cried Master Heyford, “but thou hadst better curb in thy +tongue. Though I have my jest,--as a rich man and a corpulent,--a lad +who has his way to make good should be silent and--But he’s gone.” + +“Where hooked you up that young jack fish?” said Master Stokton, the +thin mercer, who had reminded the goldsmith of the fate of the grocer. + +“Why, he was meant for the cowl, but his mother, a widow, at his own +wish, let him make choice of the flat cap. He was the best ‘prentice +ever I had. By the blood of Saint Thomas, he will push his way in good +time; he has a head, Master Stokton,--a head, and an ear; and a +great big pair of eyes always looking out for something to his proper +advantage.” + +In the mean while, the goldsmith’s headman had walked leisurely up to +the archery-ground; and even in his gait and walk, as he thus repaired +to a pastime, there was something steady, staid, and business-like. + +The youths of his class and calling were at that day very different from +their equals in this. Many of them the sons of provincial retainers, +some even of franklins and gentlemen, their childhood had made them +familiar with the splendour and the sports of knighthood; they had +learned to wrestle, to cudgel, to pitch the bar or the quoit, to draw +the bow, and to practise the sword and buckler, before transplanted from +the village green to the city stall. And even then, the constant +broils and wars of the time, the example of their betters, the holiday +spectacle of mimic strife, and, above all, the powerful and corporate +association they formed amongst themselves, tended to make them as wild, +as jovial, and as dissolute a set of young fellows as their posterity +are now sober, careful, and discreet. And as Nicholas Alwyn, with +a slight inclination of his head, passed by, two or three loud, +swaggering, bold-looking groups of apprentices--their shaggy hair +streaming over their shoulders, their caps on one side, their short +cloaks of blue torn or patched, though still passably new, their +bludgeons under their arms, and their whole appearance and manner not +very dissimilar from the German collegians in the last century--notably +contrasted Alwyn’s prim dress, his precise walk, and the feline care +with which he stepped aside from any patches of mire that might sully +the soles of his square-toed shoes. + +The idle apprentices winked and whispered, and lolled out their tongues +at him as he passed. “Oh, but that must be as good as a May-Fair +day,--sober Nick Alwyn’s maiden flight of the shaft! Hollo, puissant +archer, take care of the goslings yonder! Look this way when thou +pull’st, and then woe to the other side!” Venting these and many similar +specimens of the humour of Cockaigne, the apprentices, however, followed +their quondam colleague, and elbowed their way into the crowd gathered +around the competitors at the butt; and it was at this spot, commanding +a view of the whole space, that the spectator might well have formed +some notion of the vast following of the House of Nevile. For everywhere +along the front lines, everywhere in the scattered groups, might be +seen, glistening in the sunlight, the armourial badges of that mighty +family. The Pied Bull, which was the proper cognizance [Pied Bull +the cognizance, the Dun Bull’s head the crest] of the Neviles, was +principally borne by the numerous kinsmen of Earl Warwick, who rejoiced +in the Nevile name. The Lord Montagu, Warwick’s brother, to whom +the king had granted the forfeit title and estates of the earls of +Northumberland, distinguished his own retainers, however, by the special +request of the ancient Montagus.--a Gryphon issuant from a ducal crown. +But far more numerous than Bull or Gryphon (numerous as either seemed) +were the badges worn by those who ranked themselves among the peculiar +followers of the great Earl of Warwick. The cognizance of the Bear +and Ragged Staff, which he assumed in right of the Beauchamps, whom he +represented through his wife, the heiress of the lords of Warwick, +was worn in the hats of the more gentle and well-born clansmen and +followers, while the Ragged Staff alone was worked front and back on +the scarlet jackets of his more humble and personal retainers. It was +a matter of popular notice and admiration that in those who wore these +badges, as in the wearers of the hat and staff of the ancient Spartans, +might be traced a grave loftiness of bearing, as if they belonged to +another caste, another race, than the herd of men. Near the place where +the rivals for the silver arrow were collected, a lordly party had +reined in their palfreys, and conversed with each other, as the judges +of the field were marshalling the competitors. + +“Who,” said one of these gallants, “who is that comely young fellow just +below us, with the Nevile cognizance of the Bull on his hat? He has the +air of one I should know.” + +“I never saw him before, my Lord of Northumberland,” answered one of the +gentlemen thus addressed; “but, pardieu, he who knows all the Neviles by +eye must know half England.” The Lord Montagu--for though at that moment +invested with the titles of the Percy, by that name Earl Warwick’s +brother is known to history, and by that, his rightful name, he +shall therefore be designated in these pages--the Lord Montagu smiled +graciously at this remark, and a murmur through the crowd announced that +the competition for the silver arrow was about to commence. The butts, +formed of turf, with a small white mark fastened to the centre by a +very minute peg, were placed apart, one at each end, at the distance of +eleven score yards. At the extremity where the shooting commenced, the +crowd assembled, taking care to keep clear from the opposite butt, +as the warning word of “Fast” was thundered forth; but eager was the +general murmur, and many were the wagers given and accepted, as some +well-known archer tried his chance. Near the butt that now formed the +target, stood the marker with his white wand; and the rapidity with +which archer after archer discharged his shaft, and then, if it missed, +hurried across the ground to pick it up (for arrows were dear enough not +to be lightly lost), amidst the jeers and laughter of the bystanders, +was highly animated and diverting. As yet, however, no marksman had hit +the white, though many had gone close to it, when Nicholas Alwyn stepped +forward; and there was something so unwarlike in his whole air, so prim +in his gait, so careful in his deliberate survey of the shaft and his +precise adjustment of the leathern gauntlet that protected the arm from +the painful twang of the string, that a general burst of laughter from +the bystanders attested their anticipation of a signal failure. + +“‘Fore Heaven!” said Montagu, “he handles his bow an’ it were a +yard-measure. One would think he were about to bargain for the +bow-string, he eyes it so closely.” + +“And now,” said Nicholas, slowly adjusting the arrow, “a shot for the +honour of old Westmoreland!” And as he spoke, the arrow sprang gallantly +forth, and quivered in the very heart of the white. There was a general +movement of surprise among the spectators, as the marker thrice shook +his wand over his head. But Alwyn, as indifferent to their respect as +he had been to their ridicule, turned round and said, with a significant +glance at the silent nobles, “We springals of London can take care of +our own, if need be.” + +“These fellows wax insolent. Our good king spoils them,” said Montagu, +with a curl of his lip. “I wish some young squire of gentle blood would +not disdain a shot for the Nevile against the craftsman. How say you, +fair sir?” And with a princely courtesy of mien and smile, Lord Montagu +turned to the young man he had noticed as wearing the cognizance of +the First House in England. The bow was not the customary weapon of +the well-born; but still, in youth, its exercise formed one of the +accomplishments of the future knight; and even princes did not disdain, +on a popular holiday, to match a shaft against the yeoman’s cloth-yard. +[At a later period, Henry VIII. was a match for the best bowman in his +kingdom. His accomplishment was hereditary, and distinguished alike his +wise father and his pious son.] The young man thus addressed, and whose +honest, open, handsome, hardy face augured a frank and fearless nature, +bowed his head in silence, and then slowly advancing to the umpires, +craved permission to essay his skill, and to borrow the loan of a shaft +and bow. Leave given and the weapons lent, as the young gentleman took +his stand, his comely person, his dress, of a better quality than that +of the competitors hitherto, and, above all, the Nevile badge worked in +silver on his hat, diverted the general attention from Nicholas Alwyn. +A mob is usually inclined to aristocratic predilections, and a murmur +of goodwill and expectation greeted him, when he put aside the gauntlet +offered to him, and said, “In my youth I was taught so to brace the bow +that the string should not touch the arm; and though eleven score yards +be but a boy’s distance, a good archer will lay his body into his bow +[‘My father taught me to lay my body in my bow,’ etc.,” said Latimer, in +his well-known sermon before Edward VI.,--1549. The bishop also herein +observes that “it is best to give the bow so much bending that the +string need never touch the arm. This,” he adds, “is practised by many +good archers with whom I am acquainted, as much as if he were to hit +the blanc four hundred yards away.” + +“A tall fellow this!” said Montagu; “and one I wot from the North,” as +the young gallant fitted the shaft to the bow. And graceful and artistic +was the attitude he assumed,--the head slightly inclined, the feet +firmly planted, the left a little in advance, and the stretched sinews +of the bow-hand alone evincing that into that grasp was pressed the +whole strength of the easy and careless frame. The public expectation +was not disappointed,--the youth performed the feat considered of all +the most dexterous; his arrow, disdaining the white mark, struck the +small peg which fastened it to the butts, and which seemed literally +invisible to the bystanders. + +“Holy Saint Dunstan! there’s but one man who can beat me in that sort +that I know of,” muttered Nicholas, “and I little expected to see him +take a bite out of his own hip.” With that he approached his successful +rival. + +“Well, Master Marmaduke,” said he, “it is many a year since you showed +me that trick at your father, Sir Guy’s--God rest him! But I scarce take +it kind in you to beat your own countryman!” + +“Beshrew me!” cried the youth, and his cheerful features brightened into +hearty and cordial pleasure, “but if I see in thee, as it seems to me, +my old friend and foster-brother, Nick Alwyn, this is the happiest hour +I have known for many a day. But stand back and let me look at thee, +man. Thou! thou a tame London trader! Ha! ha! is it possible?” + +“Hout, Master Marmaduke,” answered Nicholas, “every crow thinks his own +baird bonniest, as they say in the North. We will talk of this anon an’ +thou wilt honour me. I suspect the archery is over now. Few will think +to mend that shot.” + +And here, indeed, the umpires advanced, and their chief--an old mercer, +who had once borne arms, and indeed been a volunteer at the battle of +Towton--declared that the contest was over,--“unless,” he added, in +the spirit of a lingering fellow-feeling with the Londoner, “this young +fellow, whom I hope to see an alderman one of these days, will demand +another shot, for as yet there hath been but one prick each at the +butts.” + +“Nay, master,” returned Alwyn, “I have met with my betters,--and, after +all,” he added indifferently, “the silver arrow, though a pretty bauble +enough, is over light in its weight.” + +“Worshipful sir,” said the young Nevile, with equal generosity, “I +cannot accept the prize for a mere trick of the craft,--the blanc was +already disposed of by Master Alwyn’s arrow. Moreover; the contest was +intended for the Londoners, and I am but an interloper, beholden to +their courtesy for a practice of skill, and even the loan of a bow; +wherefore the silver arrow be given to Nicholas Alwyn.” + +“That may not be, gentle sir,” said the umpire, extending the prize. +“Sith Alwyn vails of himself, it is thine, by might and by right.” + +The Lord Montagu had not been inattentive to this dialogue, and he +now said, in a loud tone that silenced the crowd, “Young Badgeman, thy +gallantry pleases me no less than thy skill. Take the arrow, for thou +hast won it; but as thou seemest a new comer, it is right thou shouldst +pay thy tax upon entry,--this be my task. Come hither, I pray thee, good +sir,” and the nobleman graciously beckoned to the mercer; “be these five +nobles the prize of whatever Londoner shall acquit himself best in the +bold English combat of quarter-staff, and the prize be given in this +young archer’s name. Thy name, youth?” + +“Marmaduke Nevile, good my lord.” + +Montagu smiled, and the umpire withdrew to make the announcement to the +bystanders. The proclamation was received with a shout that traversed +from group to group and line to line, more hearty from the love and +honour attached to the name of Nevile than even from a sense of the +gracious generosity of Earl Warwick’s brother. One man alone, a sturdy, +well-knit fellow, in a franklin’s Lincoln broadcloth, and with a hood +half-drawn over his features, did not join the popular applause. “These +Yorkists,” he muttered, “know well how to fool the people.” + +Meanwhile the young Nevile still stood by the gilded stirrup of the +great noble who had thus honoured him, and contemplated him with that +respect and interest which a youth’s ambition ever feels for those who +have won a name. + +The Lord Montagu bore a very different character from his puissant +brother. Though so skilful a captain that he had never been known to +lose a battle, his fame as a warrior was, strange to say, below that +of the great earl, whose prodigious strength had accomplished those +personal feats that dazzled the populace, and revived the legendary +renown of the earlier Norman knighthood. The caution and wariness, +indeed, which Montagu displayed in battle probably caused his success as +a general, and the injustice done to him (at least by the vulgar) as a +soldier. Rarely had Lord Montagu, though his courage was indisputable, +been known to mix personally in the affray. Like the captains of modern +times, he contented himself with directing the manoeuvres of his +men, and hence preserved that inestimable advantage of coolness and +calculation, which was not always characteristic of the eager hardihood +of his brother. The character of Montagu differed yet more from that +of the earl in peace than in war. He was supposed to excel in all those +supple arts of the courtier which Warwick neglected or despised; and if +the last was on great occasions the adviser, the other in ordinary life +was the companion of his sovereign. Warwick owed his popularity to his +own large, open, daring, and lavish nature. The subtler Montagu sought +to win, by care and pains, what the other obtained without an effort. He +attended the various holiday meetings of the citizens, where Warwick +was rarely seen. He was smooth-spoken and courteous to his equals, and +generally affable, though with constraint, to his inferiors. He was a +close observer, and not without that genius for intrigue, which in rude +ages passes for the talent of a statesman. And yet in that thorough +knowledge of the habits and tastes of the great mass, which gives wisdom +to a ruler, he was far inferior to the earl. In common with his brother, +he was gifted with the majesty of mien which imposes on the eye; and his +port and countenance were such as became the prodigal expense of velvet, +minever, gold, and jewels, by which the gorgeous magnates of the day +communicated to their appearance the arrogant splendour of their power. + +“Young gentleman,” said the earl, after eying with some attention the +comely archer, “I am pleased that you bear the name of Nevile. Vouchsafe +to inform me to what scion of our House we are this day indebted for the +credit with which you have upborne its cognizance?” + +“I fear,” answered the youth, with a slight but not ungraceful +hesitation, “that my lord of Montagu and Northumberland will hardly +forgive the presumption with which I have intruded upon this assembly +a name borne by nobles so illustrious, especially if it belong to those +less fortunate branches of his family which have taken a different +side from himself in the late unhappy commotions. My father was Sir Guy +Nevile, of Arsdale, in Westmoreland.” + +Lord Montagu’s lip lost its gracious smile; he glanced quickly at the +courtiers round him, and said gravely, “I grieve to hear it. Had I +known this, certes my gipsire had still been five nobles the richer. +It becomes not one fresh from the favour of King Edward IV. to show +countenance to the son of a man, kinsman though he was, who bore arms +for the usurpers of Lancaster. I pray thee, sir, to doff, henceforth, a +badge dedicated only to the service of Royal York. No more, young man; +we may not listen to the son of Sir Guy Nevile.--Sirs, shall we ride to +see how the Londoners thrive at quarter-staff?” + +With that, Montagu, deigning no further regard at Nevile, wheeled his, +palfrey towards a distant part of the ground, to which the multitude was +already pressing its turbulent and noisy way. + +“Thou art hard on thy namesake, fair my lord,” said a young noble, in +whose dark-auburn hair, aquiline, haughty features, spare but powerful +frame, and inexpressible air of authority and command, were found all +the attributes of the purest and eldest Norman race,--the Patricians of +the World. + +“Dear Raoul de Fulke,” returned Montagu, coldly, “when thou hast reached +my age of thirty and four, thou wilt learn that no man’s fortune casts +so broad a shadow as to shelter from the storm the victims of a fallen +cause.” + +“Not so would say thy bold brother,” answered Raoul de Fulke, with a +slight curl of his proud lip. “And I hold, with him, that no king is so +sacred that we should render to his resentments our own kith and kin. +God’s wot, whosoever wears the badge and springs from the stem of Raoul +de Fulke shall never find me question over much whether his father +fought for York or Lancaster.” + +“Hush, rash babbler!” said Montagu, laughing gently; “what would King +Edward say if this speech reached his ears? Our friend,” added the +courtier, turning to the rest, “in vain would bar the tide of change; +and in this our New England, begirt with new men and new fashions, +affect the feudal baronage of the worn-out Norman. But thou art a +gallant knight, De Fulke, though a poor courtier.” + +“The saints keep me so!” returned De Fulke. “From overgluttony, from +over wine-bibbing, from cringing to a king’s leman, from quaking at a +king’s frown, from unbonneting to a greasy mob, from marrying an old +crone for vile gold, may the saints ever keep Raoul de Fulke and his +sons! Amen!” This speech, in which every sentence struck its stinging +satire into one or other of the listeners, was succeeded by an awkward +silence, which Montagu was the first to break. + +“Pardieu!” he said, “when did Lord Hastings leave us, and what fair face +can have lured the truant?” + +“He left us suddenly on the archery-ground,” answered the young Lovell. +“But as well might we track the breeze to the rose as Lord William’s +sigh to maid or matron.” + +While thus conversed the cavaliers, and their plumes waved, and their +mantles glittered along the broken ground, Marmaduke Nevile’s eye +pursued the horsemen with all that bitter feeling of wounded pride +and impotent resentment with which Youth regards the first insult it +receives from Power. + + + + +CHAPTER II. THE BROKEN GITTERN. + +Rousing himself from his indignant revery, Marmaduke Nevile followed one +of the smaller streams into which the crowd divided itself on dispersing +from the archery-ground, and soon found himself in a part of the holiday +scene appropriated to diversions less manly, but no less characteristic +of the period than those of the staff and arrow. Beneath an awning, +under which an itinerant landlord dispensed cakes and ale, the humorous +Bourdour (the most vulgar degree of minstrel, or rather tale-teller) +collected his clownish audience; while seated by themselves--apart, but +within hearing--two harpers, in the king’s livery, consoled each other +for the popularity of their ribald rival, by wise reflections on the +base nature of common folk. Farther on, Marmaduke started to behold +what seemed to him the heads of giants at least six yards high; but on +a nearer approach these formidable apparitions resolved themselves to +a company of dancers upon stilts. There, one joculator exhibited the +antics of his well-tutored ape; there, another eclipsed the attractions +of the baboon by a marvellous horse that beat a tabor with his forefeet; +there, the more sombre Tregetour, before a table raised upon a lofty +stage, promised to cut off and refix the head of a sad-faced little boy, +who in the mean time was preparing his mortal frame for the operation by +apparently larding himself with sharp knives and bodkins. Each of these +wonder-dealers found his separate group of admirers, and great was the +delight and loud the laughter in the pastime-ground of old Cockaigne. + +While Marmaduke, bewildered by this various bustle, stared around him, +his eye was caught by a young maiden, in evident distress, struggling in +vain to extricate herself from a troop of timbrel-girls, or tymbesteres +(as they were popularly called), who surrounded her with mocking +gestures, striking their instruments to drown her remonstrances, and +dancing about her in a ring at every effort towards escape. The girl +was modestly attired as one of the humbler ranks, and her wimple in +much concealed her countenance; but there was, despite her strange +and undignified situation and evident alarm, a sort of quiet, earnest +self-possession,--an effort to hide her terror, and to appeal to the +better and more womanly feelings of her persecutors. In the intervals of +silence from the clamour, her voice, though low, clear, well-tuned, and +impressive, forcibly arrested the attention of young Nevile; for at that +day, even more than this (sufficiently apparent as it now is), there was +a marked distinction in the intonation, the accent, the modulation of +voice, between the better bred and better educated and the inferior +classes. But this difference, so ill according with her dress and +position, only served to heighten more the bold insolence of the musical +Bacchantes, who, indeed, in the eyes of the sober, formed the most +immoral nuisance attendant on the sports of the time, and whose hardy +license and peculiar sisterhood might tempt the antiquary to search +for their origin amongst the relics of ancient Paganism. And now, to +increase the girl’s distress, some half-score of dissolute apprentices +and journeymen suddenly broke into the ring of the Maenads, and were +accosting her with yet more alarming insults, when Marmaduke, pushing +them aside, strode to her assistance. “How now, ye lewd varlets! ye make +me blush for my countrymen in the face of day! Are these the sports of +merry England,--these your manly contests,--to strive which can best +affront a poor maid? Out on ye, cullions and bezonians! Cling to me, +gentle donzel, and fear not. Whither shall I lead thee?” The apprentices +were not, however, so easily daunted. Two of them approached to the +rescue, flourishing their bludgeons about their heads with formidable +gestures. “Ho, ho!” cried one, “what right hast thou to step between the +hunters and the doe? The young quean is too much honoured by a kiss from +a bold ‘prentice of London.” + +Marmaduke stepped back, and drew the small dagger which then formed the +only habitual weapon of a gentleman. [Swords were not worn, in peace, at +that period.] This movement, discomposing his mantle, brought the silver +arrow he had won (which was placed in his girdle) in full view of the +assailants. At the same time they caught sight of the badge on his hat. +These intimidated their ardour more than the drawn poniard. + +“A Nevile!” said one, retreating. “And the jolly marksman who beat Nick +Alwyn,” said the other, lowering his bludgeon, and doffing his cap. +“Gentle sir, forgive us, we knew not your quality. But as for the +girl--your gallantry misleads you.” + +“The Wizard’s daughter! ha, ha! the Imp of Darkness!” screeched the +timbrel-girls, tossing up their instruments, and catching them again on +the points of their fingers. “She has enchanted him with her glamour. +Foul is fair! Foul fair thee, young springal, if thou go to the nets. +Shadow and goblin to goblin and shadow! Flesh and blood to blood and +flesh!”--and dancing round him, with wanton looks and bare arms, and +gossamer robes that brushed him as they circled, they chanted,-- + + “Come, kiss me, my darling, + Warm kisses I trade for; + Wine, music, and kisses + What else was life made for?” + +With some difficulty, and with a disgust which was not altogether +without a superstitious fear of the strange words and the outlandish +appearance of these loathsome Delilahs, Marmaduke broke from the ring +with his new charge; and in a few moments the Nevile and the maiden +found themselves, unmolested and unpursued, in a deserted quarter of +the ground; but still the scream of the timbrel-girls, as they hurried, +wheeling and dancing, into the distance, was borne ominously to the +young man’s ear. “Ha, ha! the witch and her lover! Foul is fair! foul is +fair! Shadow to goblin, goblin to shadow,--and the devil will have his +own!” + +“And what mischance, my poor girl,” asked the Nevile, soothingly, +“brought thee into such evil company?” + +“I know not, fair sir,” said the girl, slowly recovering her self; “but +my father is poor, and I had heard that on these holiday occasions one +who had some slight skill on the gittern might win a few groats from the +courtesy of the bystanders. So I stole out with my serving-woman, +and had already got more than I dared hope, when those wicked +timbrel-players came round me, and accused me of taking the money from +them. And then they called an officer of the ground, who asked me my +name and holding; so when I answered, they called my father a wizard, +and the man broke my poor gittern,--see!”--and she held it up, with +innocent sorrow in her eyes, yet a half-smile on her lips,--“and they +soon drove poor old Madge from my side, and I knew no more till you, +worshipful sir, took pity on me.” + +“But why,” asked the Nevile, “did they give to your father so unholy a +name?” + +“Alas, sir! he is a great scholar, who has spent his means in studying +what he says will one day be of good to the people.” + +“Humph!” said Marmaduke, who had all the superstitions of his time, +who looked upon a scholar, unless in the Church, with mingled awe and +abhorrence, and who, therefore, was but ill-satisfied with the girl’s +artless answer, + +“Humph! your father--but--” checking what he was about, perhaps harshly, +to say, as he caught the bright eyes and arch, intelligent face lifted +to his own--“but it is hard to punish the child for the father’s +errors.” + +“Errors, sir!” repeated the damsel, proudly, and with a slight disdain +in her face and voice. “But yes, wisdom is ever, perhaps, the saddest +error!” + +This remark was of an order superior in intellect to those which +had preceded it: it contrasted with the sternness of experience the +simplicity of the child; and of such contrasts, indeed, was that +character made up. For with a sweet, an infantine change of tone and +countenance, she added, after a short pause, “They took the money! The +gittern--see, they left that, when they had made it useless.” + +“I cannot mend the gittern, but I can refill the gipsire,” said +Marmaduke. + +The girl coloured deeply. “Nay, sir, to earn is not to beg.” Marmaduke +did not heed this answer; for as they were now passing by the stunted +trees, under which sat several revellers, who looked up at him from +their cups and tankards, some with sneering, some with grave looks, he +began, more seriously than in his kindly impulse he had hitherto done, +to consider the appearance it must have to be thus seen walking in +public with a girl of inferior degree, and perhaps doubtful repute. +Even in our own day such an exhibition would be, to say the least, +suspicious; and in that day, when ranks and classes were divided with +iron demarcations, a young gallant, whose dress bespoke him of gentle +quality, with one of opposite sex, and belonging to the humbler orders, +in broad day too, was far more open to censure. The blood mounted to +his brow, and halting abruptly, he said, in a dry and altered voice: “My +good damsel, you are now, I think, out of danger; it would ill beseem +you, so young and so comely, to go farther with one not old enough to be +your protector; so, in God’s name, depart quickly, and remember me when +you buy your new gittern, poor child!” So saying, he attempted to place +a piece of money in her hand. She put it back, and the coin fell on the +ground. “Nay, this is foolish,” said he. + +“Alas, sir!” said the girl, gravely, “I see well that you are ashamed of +your goodness. But my father begs not. And once--but that matters not.” + +“Once what?” persisted Marmaduke, interested in her manner, in spite of +himself. + +“Once,” said the girl, drawing herself up, and with an expression that +altered the whole character of her face--“the beggar ate at my father’s +gate. He is a born gentleman and a knight’s son.” + +“And what reduced him thus?” + +“I have said,” answered the girl, simply, yet with the same half-scorn +on her lip that it had before betrayed; “he is a scholar, and thought +more of others than himself.” + +“I never saw any good come to a gentleman from those accursed books,” + said the Nevile,--“fit only for monks and shavelings. But still, for +your father’s sake, though I am ashamed of the poorness of the gift--” + +“No; God be with you, sir, and reward you.” She stopped short, drew +her wimple round her face, and was gone. Nevile felt an uncomfortable +sensation of remorse and disapproval at having suffered her to quit him +while there was yet any chance of molestation or annoyance, and his eye +followed her till a group of trees veiled her from his view. + +The young maiden slackened her pace as she found herself alone under +the leafless boughs of the dreary pollards,--a desolate spot, made +melancholy by dull swamps, half overgrown with rank verdure, through +which forced its clogged way the shallow brook that now gives its name +(though its waves are seen no more) to one of the main streets in the +most polished quarters of the metropolis. Upon a mound formed by the +gnarled roots of the dwarfed and gnome-like oak, she sat down and wept. +In our earlier years, most of us may remember that there was one day +which made an epoch in life,--that day that separated Childhood from +Youth; for that day seems not to come gradually, but to be a sudden +crisis, an abrupt revelation. The buds of the heart open to close no +more. Such a day was this in that girl’s fate. But the day was not yet +gone! That morning, when she dressed for her enterprise of filial love, +perhaps for the first time Sibyll Warner felt that she was fair--who +shall say whether some innocent, natural vanity had not blended with the +deep, devoted earnestness, which saw no shame in the act by which the +child could aid the father? Perhaps she might have smiled to listen to +old Madge’s praises of her winsome face, old Madge’s predictions that +the face and the gittern would not lack admirers on the gay ground; +perhaps some indistinct, vague forethoughts of the Future to which the +sex will deem itself to be born might have caused the cheek--no, not to +blush, but to take a rosier hue, and the pulse to beat quicker, she knew +not why. At all events, to that ground went the young Sibyll, cheerful, +and almost happy, in her inexperience of actual life, and sure, at +least, that youth and innocence sufficed to protect from insult. And now +she sat down under the leafless tree to weep; and in those bitter tears, +childhood itself was laved from her soul forever. + +“What ailest thou, maiden?” asked a deep voice; and she felt a hand laid +lightly on her shoulder. She looked up in terror and confusion, but +it was no form or face to inspire alarm that met her eye. It was a +cavalier, holding by the rein a horse richly caparisoned; and though his +dress was plainer and less exaggerated than that usually worn by men +of rank, its materials were those which the sumptuary laws (constantly +broken, indeed, as such laws ever must be) confined to nobles. Though +his surcoat was but of cloth, and the colour dark and sober, it was +woven in foreign looms,--an unpatriotic luxury, above the degree of +knight,--and edged deep with the costliest sables. The hilt of the +dagger, suspended round his breast, was but of ivory, curiously wrought, +but the scabbard was sown with large pearls. For the rest, the stranger +was of ordinary stature, well knit and active rather than powerful, and +of that age (about thirty-five) which may be called the second prime +of man. His face was far less handsome than Marmaduke Nevile’s, but +infinitely more expressive, both of intelligence and command,--the +features straight and sharp, the complexion clear and pale, and under +the bright gray eyes a dark shade spoke either of dissipation or of +thought. + +“What ailest thou, maiden,--weepest thou some faithless lover? Tush! +love renews itself in youth, as flower succeeds flower in spring.” + +Sibyll made no reply; she rose and moved a few paces, then arrested her +steps, and looked around her. She had lost all clew to her way homeward, +and she saw with horror, in the distance, the hateful timbrel-girls, +followed by the rabble, and weaving their strange dances towards the +spot. + +“Dost thou fear me, child? There is no cause,” said the stranger, +following her. “Again I say, What ailest thou?” This time his voice was +that of command, and the poor girl involuntarily obeyed it. She related +her misfortunes, her persecution by the tymbesteres, her escape,--thanks +to the Nevile’s courtesy,--her separation from her attendant, and her +uncertainty as to the way she should pursue. + +The nobleman listened with interest: he was a man sated and wearied +by pleasure and the world, and the evident innocence of Sibyll was a +novelty to his experience, while the contrast between her language and +her dress moved his curiosity. “And,” said he, “thy protector left thee, +his work half done; fie on his chivalry! But I, donzel, wear the spurs +of knighthood, and to succour the distressed is a duty my oath will +not let me swerve from. I will guide thee home, for I know well all the +purlieus of this evil den of London. Thou hast but to name the suburb in +which thy father dwells.” + +Sibyll involuntarily raised her wimple, lifted her beautiful eyes to the +stranger, in bewildered gratitude and surprise. Her childhood had passed +in a court, her eye, accustomed to rank, at once perceived the high +degree of the speaker. The contrast between this unexpected and delicate +gallantry and the condescending tone and abrupt desertion of Marmaduke +affected her again to tears. + +“Ah, worshipful sir!” she said falteringly, “what can reward thee for +this unlooked-for goodness?” + +“One innocent smile, sweet virgin!--for such I’ll be sworn thou art.” + +He did not offer her his hand, but hanging the gold-enamelled rein over +his arm, walked by her side; and a few words sufficing for his guidance, +led her across the ground, through the very midst of the throng. He felt +none of the young shame, the ingenious scruples of Marmaduke, at the +gaze he encountered, thus companioned. But Sibyll noted that ever and +anon bonnet and cap were raised as they passed along, and the respectful +murmur of the vulgar, who had so lately jeered her anguish, taught her +the immeasurable distance in men’s esteem between poverty shielded by +virtue, and poverty protected by power. + +But suddenly a gaudy tinsel group broke through the crowd, and wheeling +round their path, the foremost of them daringly approached the nobleman, +and looking full into his disdainful face, exclaimed, “Tradest thou, +too, for kisses? Ha, ha! life is short,--the witch is outwitched by +thee! But witchcraft and death go together, as peradventure thou mayest +learn at the last, sleek wooer.” Then darting off, and heading her +painted, tawdry throng, the timbrel-girl sprang into the crowd and +vanished. + +This incident produced no effect upon the strong and cynical intellect +of the stranger. Without allusion to it, he continued to converse with +his young companion, and artfully to draw out her own singular but +energetic and gifted mind. He grew more than interested,--he was both +touched and surprised. His manner became yet more respectful, his voice +more subdued and soft. + +On what hazards turns our fate! On that day, a little, and Sibyll’s pure +but sensitive heart had, perhaps, been given to the young Nevile. He had +defended and saved her; he was fairer than the stranger, he was more +of her own years and nearer to her in station; but in showing himself +ashamed to be seen with her, he had galled her heart, and moved the +bitter tears of her pride. What had the stranger done? Nothing but +reconciled the wounded delicacy to itself; and suddenly he became to her +one ever to be remembered, wondered at,--perhaps more. They reached an +obscure suburb, and parted at the threshold of a large, gloomy, ruinous +house, which Sibyll indicated as her father’s home. + +The girl lingered before the porch; and the stranger gazed, with the +passionless admiration which some fair object of art produces on one +who has refined his taste, but who has survived enthusiasm, upon the +downcast cheek that blushed beneath his gaze. “Farewell!” he said; and +the girl looked up wistfully. He might, without vanity, have supposed +that look to imply what the lip did not dare to say,--“And shall we meet +no more?” + +But he turned away, with formal though courteous salutation; and as he +remounted his steed, and rode slowly towards the interior of the city, +he muttered to himself, with a melancholy smile upon his lips, “Now +might the grown infant make to himself a new toy; but an innocent heart +is a brittle thing, and one false vow can break it. Pretty maiden! I +like thee well eno’ not to love thee. So, as my young Scotch minstrel +sings and plays,-- + + ‘Christ keep these birdis bright in bowers, + Sic peril lies in paramours!’” + +[A Scotch poet, in Lord Hailes’s Collection, has the following lines in +the very pretty poem called “Peril in Paramours:”-- + + “Wherefore I pray, in termys short, + Christ keep these birdis bright in bowers, + Fra false lovers and their disport, + Sic peril lies in paramours.”] + +We must now return to Marmaduke. On leaving Sibyll, and retracing his +steps towards the more crowded quarter of the space, he was agreeably +surprised by encountering Nicholas Alwyn, escorted in triumph by a +legion of roaring apprentices from the victory he had just obtained over +six competitors at the quarter-staff. + +When the cortege came up to Marmaduke, Nicholas halted, and fronting +his attendants, said, with the same cold and formal stiffness that +had characterized him from the beginning, “I thank you, lads, for your +kindness. It is your own triumph. All I cared for was to show that you +London boys are able to keep up your credit in these days, when there’s +little luck in a yard-measure, if the same hand cannot bend a bow, or +handle cold steel. But the less we think of the strife when we are in +the stall, the better for our pouches. And so I hope we shall hear no +more about it, until I get a ware of my own, when the more of ye that +like to talk of such matters the better ye will be welcome,--always +provided ye be civil customers, who pay on the nail, for as the saw +saith, ‘Ell and tell makes the crypt swell.’ For the rest, thanks are +due to this brave gentleman, Marmaduke Nevile, who, though the son of a +knight-banneret who never furnished less to the battle-field than fifty +men-at-arms, has condescended to take part and parcel in the sports of +us peaceful London traders; and if ever you can do him a kind turn--for +turn and turn is fair play--why, you will, I answer for it. And so +one cheer for old London, and another for Marmaduke Nevile. Here goes! +Hurrah, my lads!” And with this pithy address Nicholas Alwyn took off +his cap and gave the signal for the shouts, which, being duly performed, +he bowed stiffly to his companions, who departed with a hearty laugh, +and coming to the side of Nevile, the two walked on to a neighbouring +booth, where, under a rude awning, and over a flagon of clary, they were +soon immersed in the confidential communications each had to give and +receive. + + + + +CHAPTER III. THE TRADER AND THE GENTLE; OR, THE CHANGING GENERATION. + +“No, my dear foster-brother,” said the Nevile, “I do not yet comprehend +the choice you have made. You were reared and brought up with such +careful book-lere, not only to read and to write--the which, save the +mark! I hold to be labour eno’--but chop Latin and logic and theology +with Saint Aristotle (is not that his hard name?) into the bargain, and +all because you had an uncle of high note in Holy Church. I cannot say +I would be a shaveling myself; but surely a monk with the hope of +preferment is a nobler calling to a lad of spirit and ambition than +to stand out at a door and cry, ‘Buy, buy,’ ‘What d’ye lack?’ to spend +youth as a Flat-cap, and drone out manhood in measuring cloth, hammering +metals, or weighing out spices?” + +“Fair and softly, Master Marmaduke,” said Alwyn, “you will understand +me better anon. My uncle, the sub-prior, died,--some say of austerities, +others of ale,--that matters not; he was a learned man and a cunning. +‘Nephew Nicholas,’ said he on his death-bed, ‘think twice before you tie +yourself up to the cloister; it’s ill leaping nowadays in a sackcloth +bag. If a pious man be moved to the cowl by holy devotion, there is +nothing to be said on the subject; but if he take to the Church as a +calling, and wish to march ahead like his fellows, these times show him +a prettier path to distinction. The nobles begin to get the best things +for themselves; and a learned monk, if he is the son of a yeoman, cannot +hope, without a specialty of grace, to become abbot or bishop. The king, +whoever he be, must be so drained by his wars, that he has little land +or gold to bestow on his favourites; but his gentry turn an eye to +the temporalities of the Church, and the Church and the king wish to +strengthen themselves by the gentry. This is not all; there are +free opinions afloat. The House of Lancaster has lost ground, by its +persecutions and burnings. Men dare not openly resist, but they +treasure up recollections of a fried grandfather, or a roasted +cousin,--recollections which have done much damage to the Henries, and +will shake Holy Church itself one of these days. The Lollards lie hid, +but Lollardism will never die. There is a new class rising amain, where +a little learning goes a great way, if mixed with spirit and sense. +Thou likest broad pieces and a creditable name,--go to London and be +a trader. London begins to decide who shall wear the crown, and the +traders to decide what king London shall befriend. Wherefore, cut thy +trace from the cloister, and take thy road to the shop.’ The next day +my uncle gave up the ghost.--They had better clary than this at the +convent, I must own; but every stone has its flaw.” + +“Yet,” said Marmaduke, “if you took distaste to the cowl, from reasons +that I pretend not to judge of, but which seem to my poor head very bad +ones, seeing that the Church is as mighty as ever, and King Edward is +no friend to the Lollards, and that your uncle himself was at least a +sub-prior--” + +“Had he been son to a baron, he had been a cardinal,” interrupted +Nicholas, “for his head was the longest that ever came out of the north +country. But go on; you would say my father was a sturdy yeoman, and I +might have followed his calling?” + +“You hit the mark, Master Nicholas.” + +“Hout, man. I crave pardon of your rank, Master Nevile. But a yeoman is +born a yeoman, and he dies a yeoman--I think it better to die Lord Mayor +of London; and so I craved my mother’s blessing and leave, and a part +of the old hyde has been sold to pay for the first step to the red gown, +which I need not say must be that of the Flat-cap. I have already taken +my degrees, and no longer wear blue. I am headman to my master, and my +master will be sheriff of London.” + +“It is a pity,” said the Nevile, shaking his head; “you were ever a +tall, brave lad, and would have made a very pretty soldier.” + +“Thank you, Master Marmaduke, but I leave cut and thrust to the gentles. +I have seen eno’ of the life of a retainer. He goes out on foot with his +shield and his sword, or his bow and his quiver, while Sir Knight sits +on horseback, armed from the crown to the toe, and the arrow slants off +from rider and horse, as a stone from a tree. If the retainer is not +sliced and carved into mincemeat, he comes home to a heap of ashes, +and a handful of acres, harried and rivelled into a common; Sir Knight +thanks him for his valour, but he does not build up his house; Sir +Knight gets a grant from the king, or an heiress for his son, and Hob +Yeoman turns gisarme and bill into ploughshares. Tut, tut, there’s no +liberty, no safety, no getting on, for a man who has no right to the +gold spurs, but in the guild of his fellows; and London is the place for +a born Saxon like Nicholas Alwyn.” + +As the young aspirant thus uttered the sentiments, which though others +might not so plainly avow and shrewdly enforce them, tended towards that +slow revolution, which, under all the stormy events that the superficial +record we call HISTORY alone deigns to enumerate, was working that great +change in the thoughts and habits of the people,--that impulsion of the +provincial citywards, that gradual formation of a class between knight +and vassal,--which became first constitutionally visible and distinct +in the reign of Henry VII., Marmaduke Nevile, inly half-regretting and +half-despising the reasonings of his foster-brother, was playing with +his dagger, and glancing at his silver arrow. + +“Yet you could still have eno’ of the tall yeoman and the stout retainer +about you to try for this bauble, and to break half a dozen thick heads +with your quarter-staff!” + +“True,” said Nicholas; “you must recollect we are only, as yet, between +the skin and the selle,--half-trader, half-retainer. The old leaven will +out,--‘Eith to learn the cat to the kirn,’ as they say in the North. But +that’s not all; a man, to get on, must win respect from those who are +to jostle him hereafter, and it’s good policy to show those roystering +youngsters that Nick Alwyn, stiff and steady though he be, has the old +English metal in him, if it comes to a pinch; it’s a lesson to yon lords +too, save your quality, if they ever wish to ride roughshod over our +guilds and companies. But eno’ of me.--Drawer, another stoup of the +clary--Now, gentle sir, may I make bold to ask news of yourself? I saw, +though I spake not before of it, that my Lord Montagu showed a cold face +to his kinsman. I know something of these great men, though I be but a +small one,--a dog is no bad guide in the city he trots through.” + +“My dear foster-brother,” said the Nevile, “you had ever more brains +than myself, as is meet that you should have, since you lay by the steel +casque,--which, I take it, is meant as a substitute for us gentlemen +and soldiers who have not so many brains to spare; and I will willingly +profit by your counsels. You must know,” he said, drawing nearer to the +table, and his frank, hardy face assuming a more earnest expression, +“that though my father, Sir Guy, at the instigation of his chief, the +Earl of Westmoreland, and of the Lord Nevile, bore arms at the first for +King Henry--” + +“Hush! hush! for Henry of Windsor!” + +“Henry of Windsor!--so be it! yet being connected, like the nobles I +have spoken of, with the blood of Warwick and Salisbury, it was ever +with doubt and misgiving, and rather in the hope of ultimate compromise +between both parties (which the Duke of York’s moderation rendered +probable) than of the extermination of either. But when, at the battle +of York, Margaret of Anjou and her generals stained their victory by +cruelties which could not fail to close the door on all conciliation; +when the infant son of the duke himself was murdered, though a prisoner, +in cold blood; when my father’s kinsman, the Earl of Salisbury, was +beheaded without trial; when the head of the brave and good duke, +who had fallen in the field, was, against all knightly and king-like +generosity, mockingly exposed, like a dishonoured robber, on the gates +of York, my father, shocked and revolted, withdrew at once from the +army, and slacked not bit or spur till he found himself in his hall at +Arsdale. His death, caused partly by his travail and vexation of spirit, +together with his timely withdrawal from the enemy, preserved his name +from the attainder passed on the Lords Westmoreland and Nevile; and my +eldest brother, Sir John, accepted the king’s proffer of pardon, took +the oaths of allegiance to Edward, and lives safe, if obscure, in his +father’s halls. Thou knowest, my friend, that a younger brother has but +small honour at home. Peradventure, in calmer times, I might have bowed +my pride to my calling, hunted my brother’s dogs, flown his hawks, +rented his keeper’s lodge, and gone to my grave contented. But to a +young man, who from his childhood had heard the stirring talk of +knights and captains, who had seen valour and fortune make the way to +distinction, and whose ears of late had been filled by the tales of +wandering minstrels and dissours, with all the gay wonders of Edward’s +court, such a life soon grew distasteful. My father, on his death-bed +(like thy uncle, the sub-prior), encouraged me little to follow his own +footsteps. ‘I see,’ said he, ‘that King Henry is too soft to rule his +barons, and Margaret too fierce to conciliate the commons; the only hope +of peace is in the settlement of the House of York. Wherefore, let not +thy father’s errors stand in the way of thy advancement;’ and therewith +he made his confessor--for he was no penman himself, the worthy old +knight!--indite a letter to his great kinsman, the Earl of Warwick, +commending me to his protection. He signed his mark, and set his seal to +this missive, which I now have at mine hostelrie, and died the same day. +My brother judged me too young then to quit his roof; and condemned me +to bear his humours till, at the age of twenty-three, I could bear no +more! So having sold him my scant share in the heritage, and turned, +like thee, bad land into good nobles, I joined a party of horse in their +journey to London, and arrived yesterday at Master Sackbut’s hostelrie +in Eastchepe. I went this morning to my Lord of Warwick; but he was gone +to the king’s, and hearing of the merry-makings here, I came hither +for kill-time. A chance word of my Lord of Montagu--whom Saint Dunstan +confound!--made me conceit that a feat of skill with the cloth-yard +might not ill preface my letter to the great earl. But, pardie! it +seems I reckoned without my host, and in seeking to make my fortunes too +rashly, I have helped to mar them.” Wherewith he related the particulars +of his interview with Montagu. + +Nicholas Alwyn listened to him with friendly and thoughtful interest, +and, when he had done, spoke thus,-- + +“The Earl of Warwick is a generous man, and though hot, bears little +malice, except against those whom he deems misthink or insult him; he is +proud of being looked up to as a protector, especially by those of his +own kith and name. Your father’s letter will touch the right string, +and you cannot do better than deliver it with a plain story. A young +partisan like thee is not to be despised. Thou must trust to Lord +Warwick to set matters right with his brother; and now, before I say +further, let me ask thee, plainly, and without offence, Dost thou so +love the House of York that no chance could ever make thee turn sword +against it? Answer as I ask,--under thy breath; those drawers are +parlous spies!” + +And here, in justice to Marmaduke Nevile and to his betters, it is +necessary to preface his reply by some brief remarks, to which we must +crave the earnest attention of the reader. What we call PATRIOTISM, +in the high and catholic acceptation of the word, was little if at all +understood in days when passion, pride, and interest were motives little +softened by reflection and education, and softened still less by the +fusion of classes that characterized the small States of old, and marks +the civilization of a modern age. Though the right by descent of the +House of York, if genealogy alone were consulted, was indisputably +prior to that of Lancaster, yet the long exercise of power in the latter +House, the genius of the Fourth Henry, and the victories of the Fifth, +would no doubt have completely superseded the obsolete claims of the +Yorkists, had Henry VI. possessed any of the qualities necessary for +the time. As it was, men had got puzzled by genealogies and cavils; the +sanctity attached to the king’s name was weakened by his doubtful right +to his throne, and the Wars of the rival Roses were at last (with two +exceptions, presently to be noted) the mere contests of exasperated +factions, in which public considerations were scarcely even made the +blind to individual interest, prejudice, or passion. + +Thus, instances of desertion, from the one to the other party, even by +the highest nobles, and on the very eve of battle, had grown so common +that little if any disgrace was attached to them; and any knight or +captain held an affront to himself an amply sufficient cause for the +transfer of his allegiance. It would be obviously absurd to expect in +any of the actors of that age the more elevated doctrines of party faith +and public honour, which clearer notions of national morality, and the +salutary exercise of a large general opinion, free from the passions of +single individuals, have brought into practice in our more enlightened +days. The individual feelings of the individual MAN, strong in +himself, became his guide, and he was free in much from the regular and +thoughtful virtues, as well as from the mean and plausible vices, of +those who act only in bodies and corporations. The two exceptions to +this idiosyncrasy of motive and conduct were, first, in the general +disposition of the rising middle class, especially in London, to connect +great political interests with the more popular House of York. The +commons in parliament had acted in opposition to Henry the Sixth, as +the laws they wrung from him tended to show, and it was a popular and +trading party that came, as it were, into power under King Edward. It +is true that Edward was sufficiently arbitrary in himself; but a +popular party will stretch as much as its antagonists in favour of +despotism,--exercised, on its enemies. And Edward did his best to +consult the interests of commerce, though the prejudices of the +merchants interpreted those interests in a way opposite to that in which +political economy now understands them. The second exception to the mere +hostilities of individual chiefs and feudal factions has, not less than +the former, been too much overlooked by historians. But this was a still +more powerful element in the success of the House of York. The hostility +against the Roman Church and the tenets of the Lollards were shared by +an immense part of the population. In the previous century an ancient +writer computes that one half the population were Lollards; and though +the sect were diminished and silenced by fear, they still ceased not to +exist, and their doctrines not only shook the Church under Henry VIII., +but destroyed the throne by the strong arm of their children, the +Puritans, under Charles I. It was impossible that these men should not +have felt the deepest resentment at the fierce and steadfast persecution +they endured under the House of Lancaster; and without pausing to +consider how far they would benefit under the dynasty of York, they +had all those motives of revenge which are mistaken so often for the +counsels of policy, to rally round any standard raised against their +oppressors. These two great exceptions to merely selfish policy, which +it remains for the historian clearly and at length to enforce, these: +and these alone will always, to a sagacious observer, elevate the Wars +of the Roses above those bloody contests for badges which we are at +first sight tempted to regard them. But these deeper motives animated +very little the nobles and the knightly gentry; [Amongst many instances +of the self-seeking of the time, not the least striking is the +subservience of John Mowbray, the great Duke of Norfolk, to his old +political enemy, the Earl of Oxford, the moment the last comes into +power, during the brief restoration of Henry VI. John Paston, whose +family had been sufficiently harassed by this great duke, says, with +some glee, “The Duke and Duchess (of Norfolk) sue to him (Lord Oxford) +as humbly as ever I did to them.”--Paston Letters, cccii.] and with them +the governing principles were, as we have just said, interest, ambition, +and the zeal for the honour and advancement of Houses and chiefs. + +“Truly,” said Marmaduke, after a short and rather embarrassed pause, +“I am little beholden as yet to the House of York. There where I see a +noble benefactor, or a brave and wise leader, shall I think my sword and +heart may best proffer allegiance.” + +“Wisely said,” returned Alwyn, with a slight but half sarcastic smile; +“I asked thee the question because--draw closer--there are wise men in +our city who think the ties between Warwick and the king less strong +than a ship’s cable; and if thou attachest thyself to Warwick, he will +be better pleased, it may be, with talk of devotion to himself than +professions of exclusive loyalty to King Edward. He who has little +silver in his pouch must have the more silk on his tongue. A word to a +Westmoreland or a Yorkshire man is as good as a sermon to men not born +so far north. One word more, and I have done. Thou art kind and affable +and gentle, my dear foster-brother, but it will not do for thee to be +seen again with the goldsmith’s headman. If thou wantest me, send for +me at nightfall; I shall be found at Master Heyford’s, in the Chepe. And +if,” added Nicholas, with a prudent reminiscence, “thou succeedest at +court, and canst recommend my master,--there is no better goldsmith,--it +may serve me when I set up for myself, which I look to do shortly.” + +“But to send for thee, my own foster-brother, at nightfall, as if I were +ashamed!” + +“Hout, Master Marmaduke, if thou wert not ashamed of me, I should be +ashamed to be seen with a gay springal like thee. Why, they would say in +the Chepe that Nick Alwyn was going to ruin. No, no. Birds of a feather +must keep shy of those that moult other colours; and so, my dear young +master, this is my last shake of the hand. But hold: dost thou know thy +way back?” + +“Oh, yes,--never fear!” answered Marmaduke; “though I see not why so +far, at least, we may not be companions.” + +“No, better as it is; after this day’s work they will gossip about both +of us, and we shall meet many who know my long visage on the way back. +God keep thee; avise me how thou prosperest.” + +So saying, Nicholas Alwyn walked off, too delicate to propose to pay his +share of the reckoning with a superior; but when he had gone a few paces +he turned back, and accosting the Nevile, as the latter was rebuckling +his mantle, said,-- + +“I have been thinking, Master Nevile, that these gold nobles, which it +has been my luck to bear off, would be more useful in thy gipsire +than mine. I have sure gains and small expenses; but a gentleman gains +nothing, and his hand must be ever in his pouch, so--” + +“Foster-brother,” said Marmaduke, haughtily, “a gentleman never +borrows,--except of the Jews, and with due interest. Moreover, I too +have my calling; and as thy stall to thee, so to me my good sword. +Saints keep thee! Be sure I will serve thee when I can.” + +“The devil’s in these young strips of the herald’s tree,” muttered +Alwyn, as he strode off; “as if it were dishonest to borrow a broad +piece without cutting a throat for it! Howbeit, money is a prolific +mother: and here is eno’ to buy me a gold chain against I am alderman +of London. Hout, thus goes the world,--the knight’s baubles become the +alderman’s badges--so much the better!” + + + + +CHAPTER IV. ILL FARES THE COUNTRY MOUSE IN THE TRAPS OF TOWN. + +We trust we shall not be deemed discourteous, either, on the one hand, +to those who value themselves on their powers of reflection, or, on the +other, to those who lay claim to what, in modern phrenological jargon, +is called the Organ of Locality, when we venture to surmise that the two +are rarely found in combination; nay, that it seems to us a very evident +truism, that in proportion to the general activity of the intellect +upon subjects of pith and weight, the mind will be indifferent to those +minute external objects by which a less contemplative understanding will +note, and map out, and impress upon the memory, the chart of the road +its owner has once taken. Master Marmaduke Nevile, a hardy and acute +forester from childhood, possessed to perfection the useful faculty +of looking well and closely before him as he walked the earth; and +ordinarily, therefore, the path he had once taken, however intricate +and obscure, he was tolerably sure to retrace with accuracy, even at no +inconsiderable distance of time,--the outward senses of men are usually +thus alert and attentive in the savage or the semi-civilized state. He +had not, therefore, over-valued his general acuteness in the note and +memory of localities, when he boasted of his power to refind his way to +his hostelrie without the guidance of Alwyn. But it so happened that +the events of this day, so memorable to him, withdrew his attention from +external objects, to concentrate it within. And in marvelling and musing +over the new course upon which his destiny had entered, he forgot to +take heed of that which his feet should pursue; so that, after wandering +unconsciously onward for some time, he suddenly halted in perplexity +and amaze to find himself entangled in a labyrinth of scattered suburbs, +presenting features wholly different from the road that had conducted +him to the archery-ground in the forenoon. The darkness of the night had +set in; but it was relieved by a somewhat faint and mist-clad moon, and +some few and scattered stars, over which rolled, fleetly, thick clouds, +portending rain. No lamps at that time cheered the steps of the belated +wanderer; the houses were shut up, and their inmates, for the most part, +already retired to rest, and the suburbs did not rejoice, as the city, +in the round of the watchman with his drowsy call to the inhabitants, +“Hang out your lights!” The passengers, who at first, in various small +groups and parties, had enlivened the stranger’s way, seemed to him, +unconscious as he was of the lapse of time, to have suddenly vanished +from the thoroughfares; and he found himself alone in places thoroughly +unknown to him, waking to the displeasing recollection that the +approaches to the city were said to be beset by brawlers and ruffians +of desperate characters, whom the cessation of the civil wars had flung +loose upon the skirts of society, to maintain themselves by deeds of +rapine and plunder. As might naturally be expected, most of these had +belonged to the defeated party, who had no claim to the good offices or +charity of those in power. And although some of the Neviles had sided +with the Lancastrians, yet the badge worn by Marmaduke was considered +a pledge of devotion to the reigning House, and added a new danger to +those which beset his path. Conscious of this--for he now called to mind +the admonitions of his host in parting from the hostelrie--he deemed it +but discreet to draw the hood of his mantle over the silver ornament; +and while thus occupied, he heard not a step emerging from a lane at his +rear, when suddenly a heavy hand was placed on his shoulder. He started, +turned, and before him stood a man, whose aspect and dress betokened +little to lessen the alarm of the uncourteous salutation. Marmaduke’s +dagger was bare on the instant. + +“And what wouldst thou with me?” he asked. + +“Thy purse and thy dagger!” answered the stranger. + +“Come and take them,” said the Nevile, unconscious that he uttered a +reply famous in classic history, as he sprang backward a step or so, and +threw himself into an attitude of defence. The stranger slowly raised +a rude kind of mace, or rather club, with a ball of iron at the end, +garnished with long spikes, as he replied, “Art thou mad eno’ to fight +for such trifles?” + +“Art thou in the habit of meeting one Englishman who yields his goods +without a blow to another?” retorted Marmaduke. “Go to! thy club does +not daunt me.” The stranger warily drew back a step, and applied a +whistle to his mouth. The Nevile sprang at him, but the stranger warded +off the thrust of the poniard with a light flourish of his heavy weapon; +and had not the youth drawn back on the instant, it had been good-night +and a long day to Marmaduke Nevile. Even as it was, his heart beat +quick, as the whirl of the huge weapon sent the air like a strong wind +against his face. Ere he had time to renew his attack, he was suddenly +seized from behind, and found himself struggling in the arms of two men. +From these he broke, and his dagger glanced harmless against the tough +jerkin of his first assailant. The next moment his right arm fell to his +side, useless and deeply gashed. A heavy blow on the head--the moon, +the stars reeled in his eyes--and then darkness,--he knew no more. His +assailants very deliberately proceeded to rifle the inanimate body, when +one of them, perceiving the silver badge, exclaimed, with an oath, “One +of the rampant Neviles! This cock at least shall crow no more.” And +laying the young man’s head across his lap, while he stretched back the +throat with one hand, with the other he drew forth a long sharp knife, +like those used by huntsmen in despatching the hart. Suddenly, and in +the very moment when the blade was about to inflict the fatal gash, his +hand was forcibly arrested, and a man, who had silently and unnoticed +joined the ruffians, said in a stern whisper, “Rise and depart from thy +brotherhood forever. We admit no murderer.” + +The ruffian looked up in bewilderment. “Robin--captain--thou here!” he +said falteringly. + +“I must needs be everywhere, I see, if I would keep such fellows as thou +and these from the gallows. What is this?--a silver arrow--the young +archer--Um.” + +“A Nevile!” growled the would-be murderer. + +“And for that very reason his life should be safe. Knowest thou not that +Richard of Warwick, the great Nevile, ever spares the commons? Begone! +I say.” The captain’s low voice grew terrible as he uttered the last +words. The savage rose, and without a word stalked away. + +“Look you, my masters,” said Robin, turning to the rest, “soldiers must +plunder a hostile country. While York is on the throne, England is a +hostile country to us Lancastrians. Rob, then, rifle, if ye will; but +he who takes life shall lose it. Ye know me!” The robbers looked down, +silent and abashed. Robin bent a moment over the youth. “He will live,” + he muttered. “So! he already begins to awaken. One of these houses will +give him shelter. Off, fellows, and take care of your necks!” + +When Marmaduke, a few minutes after this colloquy, began to revive, it +was with a sensation of dizziness, pain, and extreme cold. He strove to +lift himself from the ground, and at length succeeded. He was alone; +the place where he had lain was damp and red with stiffening blood. He +tottered on for several paces, and perceived from a lattice, at a little +distance, a light still burning. Now reeling, now falling, he still +dragged on his limbs as the instinct attracted him to that sign of +refuge. He gained the doorway of a detached and gloomy house, and sank +on the stone before it to cry aloud; but his voice soon sank into deep +groans, and once more, as his efforts increased the rapid gush of the +blood, became insensible. The man styled Robin, who had so opportunely +saved his life, now approached from the shadow of a wall, beneath which +he had watched Marmaduke’s movements. He neared the door of the house, +and cried, in a sharp, clear voice, “Open, for the love of Christ!” + +A head was now thrust from the lattice, the light vanished; a minute +more, the door opened; and Robin, as if satisfied, drew hastily back, +and vanished, saying to himself, as he strode along, “A young man’s +life must needs be dear to him; yet had the lad been a lord, methinks I +should have cared little to have saved for the people one tyrant more.” + +After a long interval, Marmaduke again recovered, and his eyes turned +with pain from the glare of a light held to his face. + +“He wakes, Father,--he will live!” cried a sweet voice. “Ay, he will +live, child!” answered a deeper tone; and the young man muttered to +himself, half audibly, as in a dream, “Holy Mother be blessed! it is +sweet to live.” The room in which the sufferer lay rather exhibited +the remains of better fortunes than testified to the solid means of the +present possessor. The ceiling was high and groined, and some tints +of faded but once gaudy painting blazoned its compartments and hanging +pendants. The walls had been rudely painted (for arras [Mr. Hallam +(“History of the Middle Ages,” chap. ix. part 2) implies a doubt whether +great houses were furnished with hangings so soon as the reign of Edward +IV.; but there is abundant evidence to satisfy our learned historian +upon that head. The Narrative of the “Lord of Grauthuse,” edited by Sir +F. Madden, specifies the hangings of cloth of gold in the apartments in +which that lord was received by Edward IV.; also the hangings of white +silk and linen in the chamber appropriated to himself at Windsor. +But long before this period (to say nothing of the Bayeux +Tapestry),--namely, in the reign of Edward III. (in 1344),--a writ was +issued to inquire into the mystery of working tapestry; and in 1398 Mr. +Britton observes that the celebrated arras hangings at Warwick +Castle are mentioned. (See Britton’s “Dictionary of Architecture +and Archaelogy,” art. “Tapestry.”)] then was rare, even among the +wealthiest); but the colours were half obliterated by time and damp. The +bedstead on which the wounded man reclined was curiously carved, with a +figure of the Virgin at the head, and adorned with draperies, in which +were wrought huge figures from scriptural subjects, but in the dress +of the date of Richard II.,--Solomon in pointed upturned shoes, and +Goliath, in the armour of a crusader, frowning grimly upon the sufferer. +By the bedside stood a personage, who, in reality, was but little past +the middle age, but whose pale visage, intersected with deep furrows, +whose long beard and hair, partially gray, gave him the appearance of +advanced age: nevertheless there was something peculiarly striking in +the aspect of the man. His forehead was singularly high and massive; but +the back of the head was disproportionately small, as if the intellect +too much preponderated over all the animal qualities for strength in +character and success in life. The eyes were soft, dark, and brilliant, +but dreamlike and vague; the features in youth must have been regular +and beautiful, but their contour was now sharpened by the hollowness of +the cheeks and temples. The form, in the upper part, was nobly shaped, +sufficiently muscular, if not powerful, and with the long throat and +falling shoulders which always gives something of grace and dignity to +the carriage; but it was prematurely bent, and the lower limbs were thin +and weak, as is common with men who have sparely used them; they seemed +disproportioned to that broad chest, and still more to that magnificent +and spacious brow. The dress of this personage corresponded with the +aspect of his abode. The materials were those worn by the gentry, but +they were old, threadbare, and discoloured with innumerable spots and +stains. His hands were small and delicate, with large blue veins, that +spoke of relaxed fibres; but their natural whiteness was smudged with +smoke-stains, and his beard--a masculine ornament utterly out of fashion +among the younger race in King Edward’s reign, but when worn by the +elder gentry carefully trimmed and perfumed--was dishevelled into all +the spiral and tangled curls displayed in the sculptured head of some +old Grecian sage or poet. + +On the other side of the bed knelt a young girl of about sixteen, with a +face exquisitely lovely in its delicacy and expression. She seemed +about the middle stature, and her arms and neck, as displayed by the +close-fitting vest, had already the smooth and rounded contour of +dawning womanhood, while the face had still the softness, innocence, and +inexpressible bloom of a child. There was a strong likeness between her +and her father (for such the relationship, despite the difference of +sex and years),--the same beautiful form of lip and brow, the same rare +colour of the eyes, dark-blue, with black fringing lashes; and perhaps +the common expression, at that moment, of gentle pity and benevolent +anxiety contributed to render the resemblance stronger. + +“Father, he sinks again!” said the girl. + +“Sibyll,” answered the man, putting his finger upon a line in a +manuscript book that he held, “the authority saith, that a patient so +contused should lose blood, and then the arm must be tightly bandaged. +Verily we lack the wherewithal.” + +“Not so, Father!” said the girl, and blushing, she turned aside, and +took off the partelet of lawn, upon which holiday finery her young eyes +perhaps that morning had turned with pleasure, and white as snow was the +neck which was thus displayed; “this will suffice to bind his arm.” + +“But the book,” said the father, in great perplexity--“the book telleth +us not how the lancet should be applied. It is easy to say, ‘Do this and +do that;’ but to do it once, it should have been done before. This is +not among my experiments.” + +Luckily, perhaps, for Marmaduke, at this moment there entered an old +woman, the solitary servant of the house, whose life, in those warlike +times, had made her pretty well acquainted with the simpler modes of +dealing with a wounded arm and a broken head. She treated with great +disdain the learned authority referred to by her master; she bound the +arm, plastered the head, and taking upon herself the responsibility to +promise a rapid cure, insisted upon the retirement of father and child, +and took her solitary watch beside the bed. + +“If it had been any other mechanism than that of the vile human body!” + muttered the philosopher, as if apologizing to himself; and with that he +recovered his self-complacency and looked round him proudly. + + + + +CHAPTER V. WEAL TO THE IDLER, WOE TO THE WORKMAN. + +As Providence tempers the wind to the shorn lamb, so it possibly might +conform the heads of that day to a thickness suitable for the blows and +knocks to which they were variously subjected; yet it was not without +considerable effort and much struggling that Marmaduke’s senses +recovered the shock received, less by his flesh-wound and the loss of +blood, than a blow on the seat of reason that might have despatched a +passable ox of these degenerate days. Nature, to say nothing of Madge’s +leechcraft, ultimately triumphed, and Marmaduke woke one morning in full +possession of such understanding as Nature had endowed him with. He +was then alone, and it was with much simple surprise that he turned his +large hazel eyes from corner to corner of the unfamiliar room. He began +to retrace and weave together sundry disordered and vague reminiscences: +he commenced with the commencement, and clearly satisfied himself that +he had been grievously wounded and sorely bruised; he then recalled the +solitary light at the high lattice, and his memory found itself at +the porch of the large, lonely, ruinous old house; then all became a +bewildered and feverish dream. He caught at the vision of an old man +with a long beard, whom he associated, displeasingly, with recollections +of pain; he glanced off to a fair face, with eyes that looked tender +pity whenever he writhed or groaned under the tortures that, no doubt, +that old accursed carle had inflicted upon him. But even this face +did not dwell with pleasure in his memory,--it woke up confused and +labouring associations of something weird and witchlike, of sorceresses +and tymbesteres, of wild warnings screeched in his ear, of incantations +and devilries and doom. Impatient of these musings, he sought to leap +from his bed, and was amazed that the leap subsided into a tottering +crawl. He found an ewer and basin, and his ablutions refreshed and +invigorated him. He searched for his raiment, and discovered it all +except the mantle, dagger, hat, and girdle; and while looking for these, +his eye fell on an old tarnished steel mirror. He started as if he had +seen his ghost; was it possible that his hardy face could have waned +into that pale and almost femininely delicate visage? With the +pride (call it not coxcombry) that then made the care of person the +distinction of gentle birth, he strove to reduce into order the tangled +locks of the long hair, of which a considerable portion above a part +that seemed peculiarly sensitive to the touch had been mercilessly +clipped; and as he had just completed this task, with little +satisfaction and much inward chafing at the lack of all befitting +essences and perfumes, the door gently opened, and the fair face he had +dreamed of appeared at the aperture. + +The girl uttered a cry of astonishment and alarm at seeing the patient +thus arrayed and convalescent, and would suddenly have retreated; but +the Nevile advanced, and courteously taking her hand-- + +“Fair maiden,” said he, “if, as I trow, I owe to thy cares my tending +and cure--nay, it may be a life hitherto of little worth, save to +myself--do not fly from my thanks. May Our Lady of Walsingham bless and +reward thee!” + +“Sir,” answered Sibyll, gently withdrawing her hands from his clasp, +“our poor cares have been a slight return for thy generous protection to +myself.” + +“To thee! ah, forgive me--how could I be so dull? I remember thy face +now; and, perchance, I deserve the disaster I met with in leaving thee +so discourteously. My heart smote me for it as my light footfall passed +from thy side.” + +A slight blush, succeeded by a thoughtful smile--the smile of one who +recalls and caresses some not displeasing remembrance--passed over +Sibyll’s charming countenance, as the sufferer said this with something +of the grace of a well-born man, whose boyhood had been taught to serve +God and the Ladies. + +There was a short pause before she answered, looking down, “Nay, sir, I +was sufficiently beholden to you; and for the rest, all molestation was +over. But I will now call your nurse--for it is to our servant, not +us, that your thanks are due--to see to your state, and administer the +proper medicaments.” + +“Truly, fair damsel, it is not precisely medicaments that I hunger and +thirst for; and if your hospitality could spare me from the larder a +manchet, or a corner of a pasty, and from the cellar a stoup of wine +or a cup of ale, methinks it would tend more to restore me than those +potions which are so strange to my taste that they rather offend than +tempt it; and, pardie, it seemeth to my poor senses as if I had not +broken bread for a week!” + +“I am glad to hear you of such good cheer,” answered Sibyll; “wait but a +moment or so, till I consult your physician.” + +And, so saying, she closed the door, slowly descended the steps, and +pursued her way into what seemed more like a vault than a habitable +room, where she found the single servant of the household. Time, which +makes changes so fantastic in the dress of the better classes, has a +greater respect for the costume of the humbler; and though the +garments were of a very coarse sort of serge, there was not so great a +difference, in point of comfort and sufficiency, as might be supposed, +between the dress of old Madge and that of some primitive servant in +the North during the last century. The old woman’s face was thin and +pinched; but its sharp expression brightened into a smile as she caught +sight, through the damps and darkness, of the gracious form of her young +mistress. “Ah, Madge,” said Sibyll, with a sigh, “it is a sad thing to +be poor!” + +“For such as thou, Mistress Sibyll, it is indeed. It does not matter for +the like of us. But it goes to my old heart when I see you shut up here, +or worse, going out in that old courtpie and wimple,--you, a knight’s +grandchild; you, who have played round a queen’s knees, and who might +have been so well-to-do, an’ my master had thought a little more of the +gear of this world. But patience is a good palfrey, and will carry us +a long day. And when the master has done what he looks for, why, the +king--sith we must so call the new man on the throne--will be sure to +reward him; but, sweetheart, tarry not here; it’s an ill air for your +young lips to drink in. What brings you to old Madge?” + +“The stranger is recovered, and--” + +“Ay, I warrant me, I have cured worse than he. He must have a spoonful +of broth,--I have not forgot it. You see I wanted no dinner myself--what +is dinner to old folks!--so I e’en put it all in the pot for him. The +broth will be brave and strong.” + +“My poor Madge, God requite you for what you suffer for us! But he has +asked”--here was another sigh, and a downcast look that did not dare to +face the consternation of Madge, as she repeated, with a half-smile--“he +has asked--for meat, and a stoup of wine, Madge!” + +“Eh, sirs! And where is he to get them? Not that it will be bad for the +lad, either. Wine! There’s Master Sancroft of the Oak will not trust us +a penny, the seely hilding, and--” + +“Oh, Madge, I forgot!--we can still sell the gittern for something. Get +on your wimple, Madge--quick,--while I go for it.” + +“Why, Mistress Sibyll, that’s your only pleasure when you sit all alone, +the long summer days.” + +“It will be more pleasure to remember that it supplied the wants of my +father’s guest,” said Sibyll; and retracing the way up the stairs, she +returned with the broken instrument, and despatched Madge with it, laden +with instructions that the wine should be of the best. She then once +more mounted the rugged steps, and halting a moment at Marmaduke’s +door, as she heard his feeble step walking impatiently to and fro, she +ascended higher, where the flight, winding up a square, dilapidated +turret, became rougher, narrower, and darker, and opened the door of her +father’s retreat. + +It was a room so bare of ornament and furniture that it seemed merely +wrought out of the mingled rubble and rough stones which composed the +walls of the mansion, and was lighted towards the street by a narrow +slit, glazed, it is true,--which all the windows of the house were +not,--but the sun scarcely pierced the dull panes and the deep walls +in which they were sunk. The room contained a strong furnace and a rude +laboratory. There were several strange-looking mechanical contrivances +scattered about, several manuscripts upon some oaken shelves, and +a large pannier of wood and charcoal in the corner. In that +poverty-stricken house, the money spent on fuel alone, in the height +of summer, would have comfortably maintained the inmates; but neither +Sibyll nor Madge ever thought to murmur at this waste, dedicated to what +had become the vital want of a man who drew air in a world of his own. +This was the first thing to be provided for; and Science was of more +imperative necessity than even Hunger. + +Adam Warner was indeed a creature of remarkable genius,--and genius, in +an age where it is not appreciated, is the greatest curse the iron Fates +can inflict on man. If not wholly without the fond fancies which led the +wisdom of the darker ages to the philosopher’s stone and the elixir, he +had been deterred from the chase of a chimera by want of means to pursue +it! for it required the resources or the patronage of a prince or noble +to obtain the costly ingredients consumed in the alchemist’s crucible. +In early life, therefore, and while yet in possession of a competence +derived from a line of distinguished and knightly ancestors, Adam +Warner had devoted himself to the surer and less costly study of the +mathematics, which then had begun to attract the attention of the +learned, but which was still looked upon by the vulgar as a branch +of the black art. This pursuit had opened to him the insight into +discoveries equally useful and sublime. They necessitated a still more +various knowledge; and in an age when there was no division of labour +and rare and precarious communication among students, it became +necessary for each discoverer to acquire sufficient science for his own +collateral experiments. + +In applying mathematics to the practical purposes of life, in +recognizing its mighty utilities to commerce and civilization, Adam +Warner was driven to conjoin with it, not only an extensive knowledge +of languages, but many of the rudest tasks of the mechanist’s art; +and chemistry was, in some of his researches, summoned to his aid. +By degrees, the tyranny that a man’s genius exercises over his life, +abstracted him from all external objects. He had loved his wife +tenderly, but his rapid waste of his fortune in the purchase of +instruments and books, then enormously dear, and the neglect of all +things not centred in the hope to be the benefactor of the world, had +ruined her health and broken her heart. Happily Warner perceived not her +decay till just before her death; happily he never conceived its cause, +for her soul was wrapped in his. She revered, and loved, and never +upbraided him. Her heart was the martyr to his mind. Had she foreseen +the future destinies of her daughter, it might have been otherwise. She +could have remonstrated with the father, though not with the husband. +But, fortunately, as it seemed to her, she (a Frenchwoman by birth) had +passed her youth in the service of Margaret of Anjou, and that haughty +queen, who was equally warm to friends and inexorable to enemies, had, +on her attendant’s marriage, promised to ensure the fortunes of her +offspring. Sibyll at the age of nine--between seven and eight years +before the date the story enters on, and two years prior to the fatal +field of Towton, which gave to Edward the throne of England--had been +admitted among the young girls whom the custom of the day ranked amidst +the attendants of the queen; and in the interval that elapsed before +Margaret was obliged to dismiss her to her home, her mother died. She +died without foreseeing the reverses that were to ensue, in the hope +that her child, at least, was nobly provided for, and not without +the belief (for there is so much faith in love!) that her husband’s +researches, which in his youth had won favour of the Protector Duke of +Gloucester, the most enlightened prince of his time, would be crowned at +last with the rewards and favours of his king. That precise period was, +indeed, the fairest that had yet dawned upon the philosopher. Henry VI., +slowly recovering from one of those attacks which passed for imbecility, +had condescended to amuse himself with various conversations with +Warner, urged to it first by representations of the unholy nature of +the student’s pursuits; and, having satisfied his mind of his learned +subject’s orthodoxy, the poor monarch had taken a sort of interest, not +so much, perhaps, in the objects of Warner’s occupations, as in that +complete absorption from actual life which characterized the subject, +and gave him in this a melancholy resemblance to the king. While the +House of Lancaster was on the throne, the wife felt that her husband’s +pursuits would be respected, and his harmless life safe from the fierce +prejudices of the people; and the good queen would not suffer him to +starve, when the last mark was expended in devices how to benefit his +country:--and in these hopes the woman died! + +A year afterwards, all at court was in disorder,--armed men supplied the +service of young girls, and Sibyll, with a purse of broad pieces, soon +converted into manuscripts, was sent back to her father’s desolate home. +There had she grown a flower amidst ruins, with no companion of her own +age, and left to bear, as her sweet and affectionate nature well did, +the contrast between the luxuries of a court and the penury of a hearth +which, year after year, hunger and want came more and more sensibly to +invade. + +Sibyll had been taught, even as a child, some accomplishments little +vouchsafed then to either sex,--she could read and write; and Margaret +had not so wholly lost, in the sterner North, all reminiscence of +the accomplishments that graced her father’s court as to neglect the +education of those brought up in her household. Much attention was given +to music, for it soothed the dark hours of King Henry; the blazoning of +missals or the lives of saints, with the labours of the loom, were also +among the resources of Sibyll’s girlhood, and by these last she had, +from time to time, served to assist the maintenance of the little +family of which, child though she was, she became the actual head. But +latterly--that is, for the last few weeks--even these sources failed +her; for as more peaceful times allowed her neighbours to interest +themselves in the affairs of others, the dark reports against Warner had +revived. His name became a by-word of horror; the lonely light at the +lattice burning till midnight, against all the early usages and habits +of the day; the dark smoke of the furnace, constant in summer as in +winter, scandalized the religion of the place far and near. And finding, +to their great dissatisfaction, that the king’s government and the +Church interfered not for their protection, and unable themselves +to volunteer any charges against the recluse (for the cows in the +neighbourhood remained provokingly healthy), they came suddenly, and, +as it were by one of those common sympathies which in all times the huge +persecutor we call the PUBLIC manifests when a victim is to be crushed, +to the pious resolution of starving where they could not burn. Why buy +the quaint devilries of the wizard’s daughter?--no luck could come of +it. A missal blazoned by such hands, an embroidery worked at such a +loom, was like the Lord’s Prayer read backwards. And one morning, when +poor Sibyll stole out as usual to vend a month’s labour, she was driven +from door to door with oaths and curses. + +Though Sibyll’s heart was gentle, she was not without a certain strength +of mind. She had much of the patient devotion of her mother, much of the +quiet fortitude of her father’s nature. If not comprehending to the full +the loftiness of Warner’s pursuits, she still anticipated from them an +ultimate success which reconciled her to all temporary sacrifices. The +violent prejudices, the ignorant cruelty, thus brought to bear against +existence itself, filled her with sadness, it is true, but not unmixed +with that contempt for her persecutors, which, even in the meekest +tempers, takes the sting from despair. But hunger pressed. Her father +was nearing the goal of his discoveries, and in a moment of that pride +which in its very contempt for appearances braves them all, Sibyll +had stolen out to the pastime-ground,--with what result has been seen +already. Having thus accounted for the penury of the mansion, we return +to its owner. + +Warner was contemplating with evident complacency and delight the +model of a machine which had occupied him for many years, and which he +imagined he was now rapidly bringing to perfection. His hands and +face were grimed with the smoke of his forge, and his hair and beard, +neglected as usual, looked parched and dried up, as if with the constant +fever that burned within. + +“Yes, yes!” he muttered, “how they will bless me for this! What Roger +Bacon only suggested I shall accomplish! How it will change the face of +the globe! What wealth it will bestow on ages yet unborn!” + +“My father,” said the gentle voice of Sibyll, “my poor father, thou hast +not tasted bread to-day.” + +Warner turned, and his face relaxed into a tender expression as he saw +his daughter. + +“My child,” he said, pointing to his model, “the time comes when it will +live! Patience! patience!” + +“And who would not have patience with thee, and for thee, Father?” said +Sibyll, with enthusiasm speaking on every feature. “What is the valour +of knight and soldier--dull statues of steel--to thine? Thou, with +thy naked breast, confronting all dangers,--sharper than the lance and +glaive, and all--” + +“All to make England great!” + +“Alas! what hath England merited from men like thee? The people, more +savage than their rulers, clamour for the stake, the gibbet, and the +dungeon, for all who strive to make them wiser. Remember the death of +Bolingbroke, [A mathematician accused as an accomplice, in sorcery, of +Eleanor Cobham, wife of Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, and hanged upon +that charge. His contemporary (William Wyrcestre) highly extols his +learning.]--a wizard, because, O Father!--because his pursuits were +thine!” + +Adam, startled by this burst, looked at his daughter with more attention +than he usually evinced to any living thing. “Child,” he said at length, +shaking his head in grave reproof, “let me not say to thee, ‘O thou of +little faith!’ There were no heroes were there no martyrs!” + +“Do not frown on me, Father,” said Sibyll, sadly; “let the world +frown,--not thou! Yes, thou art right. Thou must triumph at last.” + And suddenly, her whole countenance changing into a soft and caressing +endearment, she added, “But now come, Father. Thou hast laboured +well for this morning. We shall have a little feast for thee in a few +minutes. And the stranger is recovered, thanks to our leechcraft. He is +impatient to see and thank thee.” + +“Well, well, I come, Sibyll,” said the student, with a regretful, +lingering look at his model, and a sigh to be disturbed from its +contemplation; and he slowly quitted the room with Sibyll. + +“But not, dear sir and father, not thus--not quite thus--will you go to +the stranger, well-born like yourself? Oh, no! your Sibyll is proud, +you know,--proud of her father.” So saying, she clung to him fondly, +and drew him mechanically, for he had sunk into a revery, and heeded her +not, into an adjoining chamber, in which he slept. The comforts even of +the gentry, of men with the acres that Adam had sold, were then few +and scanty. The nobles and the wealthy merchants, indeed, boasted many +luxuries that excelled in gaud and pomp those of their equals now. +But the class of the gentry who had very little money at command were +contented with hardships from which a menial of this day would revolt. +What they could spend in luxury was usually consumed in dress and the +table they were obliged to keep. These were the essentials of dignity. +Of furniture there was a woful stint. In many houses, even of knights, +an edifice large enough to occupy a quadrangle was composed more of +offices than chambers inhabited by the owners; rarely boasting more than +three beds, which were bequeathed in wills as articles of great value. +The reader must, therefore, not be surprised that Warner’s abode +contained but one bed, properly so called, and that was now devoted to +Nevile. The couch which served the philosopher for bed was a wretched +pallet, stretched on the floor, stuffed with straw,--with rough say, +or serge, and an old cloak for the coverings. His daughter’s, in a room +below, was little better. The walls were bare; the whole house boasted +but one chair, which was in Marmaduke’s chamber; stools or settles of +rude oak elsewhere supplied their place. There was no chimney except in +Nevile’s room, and in that appropriated to the forge. + +To this chamber, then, resembling a dungeon in appearance, Sibyll drew +the student, and here, from an old worm-eaten chest, she carefully +extracted a gown of brown velvet, which his father, Sir Armine, had +bequeathed to him by will,--faded, it is true, but still such as the +low-born wore not, [By the sumptuary laws only a knight was entitled to +wear velvet.] trimmed with fur, and clasped with a brooch of gold. And +then she held the ewer and basin to him, while, with the docility of a +child, he washed the smoke-soil from his hands and face. It was +touching to see in this, as in all else, the reverse of their natural +position,--the child tending and heeding and protecting, as it were, the +father; and that not from his deficiency, but his greatness; not because +he was below the vulgar intelligences of life, but above them. And +certainly, when, his patriarchal hair and beard smoothed into order, +and his velvet gown flowing in majestic folds around a figure tall and +commanding, Sibyll followed her father into Marmaduke’s chamber, she +might well have been proud of his appearance; and she felt the innocent +vanity of her sex and age in noticing the half-start of surprise with +which Marmaduke regarded his host, and the tone of respect in which he +proffered him his salutations and thanks. Even his manner altered to +Sibyll; it grew less frank and affable, more courtly and reserved: and +when Madge came to announce that the refection was served, it was with a +blush of shame, perhaps, at his treatment of the poor gittern-player +on the pastime-ground, that the Nevile extended his left hand, for his +right was still not at his command, to lead the damsel to the hall. + +This room, which was divided from the entrance by a screen, and, except +a small closet that adjoined it, was the only sitting-room in a day +when, as now on the Continent, no shame was attached to receiving +visitors in sleeping apartments, was long and low; an old and very +narrow table, that might have feasted thirty persons, stretched across +a dais raised upon a stone floor; there was no rere-dosse, or fireplace, +which does not seem at that day to have been an absolute necessity in +the houses of the metropolis and its suburbs, its place being supplied +by a movable brazier. Three oak stools were placed in state at the +board, and to one of these Marmaduke, in a silence unusual to him, +conducted the fair Sibyll. + +“You will forgive our lack of provisions,” said Warner, relapsing into +the courteous fashions of his elder days, which the unwonted spectacle +of a cold capon, a pasty, and a flask of wine brought to his mind by a +train of ideas that actively glided by the intervening circumstances, +which ought to have filled him with astonishment at the sight, “for +my Sibyll is but a young housewife, and I am a simple scholar, of few +wants.” + +“Verily,” answered Marmaduke, finding his tongue as he attacked the +pasty, “I see nothing that the most dainty need complain of; fair +Mistress Sibyll, your dainty lips will not, I trow, refuse me the +waisall. [I.e. waissail or wassal; the spelling of the time is adopted +in the text.] To you also, worshipful sir! Gramercy! it seems that there +is nothing which better stirs a man’s appetite than a sick bed. And, +speaking thereof, deign to inform me, kind sir, how long I have been +indebted to your hospitality. Of a surety, this pasty hath an excellent +flavour, and if not venison, is something better. But to return, it +mazes me much to think what time hath passed since my encounter with the +robbers.” + +“They were robbers, then, who so cruelly assailed thee?” observed +Sibyll. + +“Have I not said so--surely, who else? And, as I was remarking to your +worshipful father, whether this mischance happened hours, days, months, +or years ago, beshrew me if I can venture the smallest guess.” + +Master Warner smiled, and observing that some reply was expected from +him, said, “Why, indeed, young sir, I fear I am almost as oblivious as +yourself. It was not yesterday that you arrived, nor the day before, +nor--Sibyll, my child, how long is it since this gentleman hath been our +guest?” + +“This is the fifth day,” answered Sibyll. + +“So long! and I like a senseless log by the wayside, when others are +pushing on, bit and spur, to the great road. I pray you, sir, tell me +the news of the morning. The Lord Warwick is still in London, the court +still at the Tower?” + +Poor Adam, whose heart was with his model, and who had now satisfied +his temperate wants, looked somewhat bewildered and perplexed by this +question. “The king, save his honoured head,” said he, inclining his +own, “is, I fear me, always at the Tower, since his unhappy detention, +but he minds it not, sir,--he heeds it not; his soul is not on this side +Paradise.” + +Sibyll uttered a faint exclamation of fear at this dangerous +indiscretion of her father’s absence of mind; and drawing closer to +Nevile, she put her hand with touching confidence on his arm, and +whispered, “You will not repeat this, Sir! my father lives only in his +studies, and he has never known but one king!” + +Marmaduke turned his bold face to the maid, and pointed to the +salt-cellar, as he answered in the same tone, “Does the brave man betray +his host?” + +There was a moment’s silence. Marmaduke rose. “I fear,” said he, “that +I must now leave you; and while it is yet broad noon, I must indeed be +blind if I again miss my way.” + +This speech suddenly recalled Adam from his meditations; for whenever +his kindly and simple benevolence was touched, even his mathematics and +his model were forgotten. “No, young sir,” said he, “you must not +quit us yet; your danger is not over. Exercise may bring fever. Celsus +recommends quiet. You must consent to tarry with us a day or two more.” + +“Can you tell me,” said the Nevile, hesitatingly, “what distance it is +to the Temple-gate, or the nearest wharf on the river?” + +“Two miles, at the least,” answered Sibyll. + +“Two miles!--and now I mind me, I have not the accoutrements that beseem +me. Those hildings have stolen my mantle (which, I perceive, by the way, +is but a rustic garment, now laid aside for the super-tunic), and my hat +and dague, nor have they left even a half groat to supply their place. +Verily, therefore, since ye permit me to burden your hospitality longer, +I will not say ye nay, provided you, worshipful sir, will suffer one of +your people to step to the house of one Master Heyford, goldsmith, in +the Chepe, and crave one Nicholas Alwyn, his freedman, to visit me. I +can commission him touching my goods left at mine hostelrie, and learn +some other things which it behooves me to know.” + +“Assuredly. Sibyll, tell Simon or Jonas to put himself under our guest’s +order.” + +Simon or Jonas! The poor Adam absolutely forgot that Simon and Jonas had +quitted the house these six years! How could he look on the capon, the +wine, and the velvet gown trimmed with fur, and not fancy himself back +in the heyday of his wealth? + +Sibyll half smiled and half sighed, as she withdrew to consult with her +sole counsellor, Madge, how the guest’s orders were to be obeyed, and +how, alas! the board was to be replenished for the evening meal. But in +both these troubles she was more fortunate than she anticipated. +Madge had sold the broken gittern, for musical instruments were then, +comparatively speaking, dear (and this had been a queen’s gift), for +sufficient to provide decently for some days; and, elated herself with +the prospect of so much good cheer, she readily consented to be the +messenger to Nicholas Alwyn. When with a light step and a lighter heart +Sibyll tripped back to the hall, she was scarcely surprised to find the +guest alone. Her father, after her departure, had begun to evince much +restless perturbation. He answered Marmaduke’s queries but by abstracted +and desultory monosyllables; and seeing his guest at length engaged in +contemplating some old pieces of armour hung upon the walls, he stole +stealthily and furtively away, and halted not till once more before his +beloved model. + +Unaware of his departure, Marmaduke, whose back was turned to him, was, +as he fondly imagined, enlightening his host with much soldier-like +learning as to the old helmets and weapons that graced the hall. +“Certes, my host,” said he, musingly, “that sort of casque, which has +not, I opine, been worn this century, had its merits; the vizor is less +open to the arrows. But as for these chain suits, they suited only--I +venture, with due deference, to declare--the Wars of the Crusades, where +the enemy fought chiefly with dart and scymetar. They would be but a +sorry defence against the mace and battle-axe; nevertheless, they were +light for man and horse, and in some service, especially against foot, +might be revived with advantage. Think you not so?” + +He turned, and saw the arch face of Sibyll. + +“I crave pardon for my blindness, gentle damsel,” said he, in some +confusion, “but your father was here anon.” + +“His mornings are so devoted to labour,” answered Sibyll, “that he +entreats you to pardon his discourtesy. Meanwhile if you would wish to +breathe the air, we have a small garden in the rear;” and so saying, she +led the way into the small withdrawing-room, or rather closet, which was +her own favourite chamber, and which communicated, by another door, with +a broad, neglected grassplot, surrounded by high walls, having a raised +terrace in front, divided by a low stone Gothic palisade from the green +sward. + +On the palisade sat droopingly, and half asleep, a solitary peacock; but +when Sibyll and the stranger appeared at the door, he woke up suddenly, +descended from his height, and with a vanity not wholly unlike his +young mistress’s wish to make the best possible display in the eyes of +a guest, spread his plumes broadly in the sun. Sibyll threw him some +bread, which she had taken from the table for that purpose; but the +proud bird, however hungry, disdained to eat, till he had thoroughly +satisfied himself that his glories had been sufficiently observed. + +“Poor proud one,” said Sibyll, half to herself, “thy plumage lasts with +thee through all changes.” + +“Like the name of a brave knight,” said Marmaduke, who overheard her. + +“Thou thinkest of the career of arms.” + +“Surely,--I am a Nevile!” + +“Is there no fame to be won but that of a warrior?” + +“Not that I weet of, or heed for, Mistress Sibyll.” + +“Thinkest thou it were nothing to be a minstrel, who gave delight; a +scholar, who dispelled darkness?” + +“For the scholar? Certes, I respect holy Mother Church, which they tell +me alone produces that kind of wonder with full safety to the soul, and +that only in the higher prelates and dignitaries. For the minstrel, I +love him, I would fight for him, I would give him at need the last penny +in my gipsire; but it is better to do deeds than to sing them.” + +Sibyll smiled, and the smile perplexed and half displeased the young +adventurer. But the fire of the young man had its charm. + +By degrees, as they walked to and fro the neglected terrace, their talk +flowed free and familiar; for Marmaduke, like most young men full of +himself, was joyous with the happy egotism of a frank and careless +nature. He told his young confidante of a day his birth, his history, +his hopes, and fears; and in return he learned, in answer to the +questions he addressed to her, so much, at least, of her past and +present life, as the reverses of her father, occasioned by costly +studies, her own brief sojourn at the court of Margaret, and the +solitude, if not the struggles, in which her youth was consumed. It +would have been a sweet and grateful sight to some kindly bystander +to hear these pleasant communications between two young persons so +unfriended, and to imagine that hearts thus opened to each other might +unite in one. But Sibyll, though she listened to him with interest, and +found a certain sympathy in his aspirations, was ever and anon secretly +comparing him to one, the charm of whose voice still lingered in her +ears; and her intellect, cultivated and acute, detected in Marmaduke +deficient education, and that limited experience which is the folly and +the happiness of the young. + +On the other hand, whatever admiration Nevile might conceive was +strangely mixed with surprise, and, it might almost be said, with fear. +This girl, with her wise converse and her child’s face, was a character +so thoroughly new to him. Her language was superior to what he had ever +heard, the words more choice, the current more flowing: was that to be +attributed to her court-training or her learned parentage? + +“Your father, fair mistress,” said he, rousing himself in one of the +pauses of their conversation--“your father, then, is a mighty scholar, +and I suppose knows Latin like English?” + +“Why, a hedge-priest pretends to know Latin,” said Sibyll, smiling; “my +father is one of the six men living who have learned the Greek and the +Hebrew.” + +“Gramercy!” cried Marmaduke, crossing himself. “That is awsome indeed! +He has taught you his lere in the tongues?” + +“Nay, I know but my own and the French; my mother was a native of +France.” + +“The Holy Mother be praised!” said Marmaduke, breathing more freely; +“for French I have heard my father and uncle say is a language fit for +gentles and knights, specially those who come, like the Neviles, from +Norman stock. This Margaret of Anjou--didst thou love her well, Mistress +Sibyll?” + +“Nay,” answered Sibyll, “Margaret commanded awe, but she scarcely +permitted love from an inferior: and though gracious and well-governed +when she so pleased, it was but to those whom she wished to win. She +cared not for the heart, if the hand or the brain could not assist her. +But, poor queen, who could blame her for this?--her nature was turned +from its milk; and, when, more lately, I have heard how many she trusted +most have turned against her, I rebuked myself that--” + +“Thou wert not by her side?” added the Nevile, observing her pause, and +with the generous thought of a gentleman and a soldier. + +“Nay, I meant not that so expressly, Master Nevile, but rather that I +had ever murmured at her haste and shrewdness of mood. By her side, said +you?--alas! I have a nearer duty at home; my father is all in this world +to me! Thou knowest not, Master Nevile, how it flatters the weak to +think there is some one they can protect. But eno’ of myself. Thou wilt +go to the stout earl, thou wilt pass to the court, thou wilt win the +gold spurs, and thou wilt fight with the strong hand, and leave others +to cozen with the keen head.” + +“She is telling my fortune!” muttered Marmaduke, crossing himself again. +“The gold spurs--I thank thee, Mistress Sibyll!--will it be on the +battle-field that I shall be knighted, and by whose hand?” + +Sibyll glanced her bright eye at the questioner, and seeing his wistful +face, laughed outright. + +“What, thinkest thou, Master Nevile, I can read thee all riddles without +my sieve and my shears?” + +“They are essentials, then, Mistress Sibyll?” said the Nevile, with +blunt simplicity. “I thought ye more learned damozels might tell by the +palm, or the--why dost thou laugh at me?” + +“Nay,” answered Sibyll, composing herself. “It is my right to be +angered. Sith thou wouldst take me to be a witch, all that I can tell +thee of thy future” (she added touchingly) “is from that which I have +seen of thy past. Thou hast a brave heart, and a gentle; thou hast a +frank tongue, and a courteous; and these qualities make men honoured and +loved,--except they have the gifts which turn all into gall, and bring +oppression for honour, and hate for love.” + +“And those gifts, gentle Sibyll?” + +“Are my father’s,” answered the girl, with another and a sadder change +in her expressive countenance. And the conversation flagged till +Marmaduke, feeling more weakened by his loss of blood than he had +conceived it possible, retired to his chamber to repose himself. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. MASTER MARMADUKE NEVILE FEARS FOR THE SPIRITUAL WEAL OF HIS +HOST AND HOSTESS. + +Before the hour of supper, which was served at six o’clock, Nicholas +Alwyn arrived at the house indicated to him by Madge. Marmaduke, after +a sound sleep, which was little flattering to Sibyll’s attractions, had +descended to the hall in search of the maiden and his host, and finding +no one, had sauntered in extreme weariness and impatience into the +little withdrawing-closet, where as it was now dusk, burned a single +candle in a melancholy and rustic sconce; standing by the door that +opened on the garden, he amused himself with watching the peacock, +when his friend, following Madge into the chamber, tapped him on the +shoulder. + +“Well, Master Nevile. Ha! by Saint Thomas, what has chanced to thee? +Thine arm swathed up, thy locks shorn, thy face blanched! My honoured +foster-brother, thy Westmoreland blood seems over-hot for Cockaigne!” + +“If so, there are plenty in this city of cut-throats to let out the +surplusage,” returned Marmaduke; and he briefly related his adventure to +Nicholas. + +When he had done, the kind trader reproached himself for having +suffered Marmaduke to find his way alone. “The suburbs abound with these +miscreants,” said he; “and there is more danger in a night walk near +London than in the loneliest glens of green Sherwood--more shame to the +city! An’ I be Lord Mayor one of these days, I will look to it better. +But our civil wars make men hold human life very cheap, and there’s +parlous little care from the great of the blood and limbs of the +wayfarers. But war makes thieves--and peace hangs them! Only wait till I +manage affairs!” + +“Many thanks to thee, Nicholas,” returned the Nevile; “but foul befall +me if ever I seek protection from sheriff or mayor! A man who cannot +keep his own life with his own right hand merits well to hap-lose it; +and I, for one, shall think ill of the day when an Englishman looks more +to the laws than his good arm for his safety; but, letting this pass, I +beseech thee to avise me if my Lord Warwick be still in the city?” + +“Yes, marry, I know that by the hostelries, which swarm with his badges, +and the oxen, that go in scores to the shambles! It is a shame to the +Estate to see one subject so great, and it bodes no good to our peace. +The earl is preparing the most magnificent embassage that ever crossed +the salt seas--I would it were not to the French, for our interests lie +contrary; but thou hast some days yet to rest here and grow stout, for I +would not have thee present thyself with a visage of chalk to a man who +values his kind mainly by their thews and their sinews. Moreover, thou +shouldst send for the tailor, and get thee trimmed to the mark. It would +be a long step in thy path to promotion, an’ the earl would take thee +in his train; and the gaudier thy plumes, why, the better chance for +thy flight. Wherefore, since thou sayest they are thus friendly to +thee under this roof, bide yet a while peacefully; I will send thee the +mercer, and the clothier, and the tailor, to divert thy impatience. And +as these fellows are greedy, my gentle and dear Master Nevile, may I +ask, without offence, how thou art provided?” + +“Nay, nay, I have moneys at the hostelrie, an’ thou wilt send me my +mails. For the rest, I like thy advice, and will take it.” + +“Good!” answered Nicholas. “Hem! thou seemest to have got into a poor +house,--a decayed gentleman, I wot, by the slovenly ruin!” + +“I would that were the worst,” replied Marmaduke, solemnly, and under +his breath; and therewith he repeated to Nicholas the adventure on the +pastime-ground, the warnings of the timbrel-girls, and the “awsome” + learning and strange pursuits of his host. As for Sibyll, he was +evidently inclined to attribute to glamour the reluctant admiration with +which she had inspired him. “For,” said he, “though I deny not that the +maid is passing fair, there be many with rosier cheeks, and taller by +this hand!” + +Nicholas listened, at first, with the peculiar expression of shrewd +sarcasm which mainly characterized his intelligent face, but his +attention grew more earnest before Marmaduke had concluded. + +“In regard to the maiden,” said he, smiling and shaking his head, “it is +not always the handsomest that win us the most,--while fair Meg went a +maying, black Meg got to church; and I give thee more reasonable warning +than thy timbrel-girls, when, in spite of thy cold language, I bid +thee take care of thyself against her attractions; for, verily, my dear +foster-brother, thou must mend and not mar thy fortune, by thy love +matters; and keep thy heart whole for some fair one with marks in her +gipsire, whom the earl may find out for thee. Love and raw pease are two +ill things in the porridge-pot. But the father!--I mind me now that I +have heard of his name, through my friend Master Caxton, the mercer, as +one of prodigious skill in the mathematics. I should like much to see +him, and, with thy leave (an’ he ask me), will tarry to supper. But what +are these?”--and Nicholas took up one of the illuminated manuscripts +which Sibyll had prepared for sale. “By the blood! this is couthly and +marvellously blazoned.” + +The book was still in his hands when Sibyll entered. Nicholas stared at +her, as he bowed with a stiff and ungraceful embarrassment, which often +at first did injustice to his bold, clear intellect, and his perfect +self-possession in matters of trade or importance. + +“The first woman face,” muttered Nicholas to himself, “I ever saw that +had the sense of a man’s. And, by the rood, what a smile!” + +“Is this thy friend, Master Nevile?” said Sibyll, with a glance at +the goldsmith. “He is welcome. But is it fair and courteous, Master +Nelwyn--” + +“Alwyn, an’ it please you, fair mistress. A humble name, but good +Saxon,--which, I take it, Nelwyn is not,” interrupted Nicholas. + +“Master Alwyn, forgive me; but can I forgive thee so readily for thy +espial of my handiwork, without license or leave?” + +“Yours, comely mistress!” exclaimed Nicholas, opening his eyes, +and unheeding the gay rebuke--“why, this is a master-hand. My Lord +Scales--nay, the Earl of Worcester himself--hath scarce a finer in all +his amassment.” + +“Well, I forgive thy fault for thy flattery; and I pray thee, in my +father’s name, to stay and sup with thy friend.” Nicholas bowed low, +and still riveted his eyes on the book with such open admiration, that +Marmaduke thought it right to excuse his abstraction; but there was +something in that admiration which raised the spirits of Sibyll, which +gave her hope when hope was well-nigh gone; and she became so vivacious, +so debonair, so charming, in the flow of a gayety natural to her, and +very uncommon with English maidens, but which she took partly, perhaps, +from her French blood, and partly from the example of girls and maidens +of French extraction in Margaret’s court, that Nicholas Alwyn thought he +had never seen any one so irresistible. Madge had now served the evening +meal, put in her head to announce it, and Sibyll withdrew to summon her +father. + +“I trust he will not tarry too long, for I am sharp set!” muttered +Marmaduke. “What thinkest thou of the damozel?” + +“Marry,” answered Alwyn, thoughtfully, “I pity and marvel at her. There +is eno’ in her to furnish forth twenty court beauties. But what good can +so much wit and cunning do to an honest maiden?” + +“That is exactly my own thought,” said Marmaduke; and both the young men +sunk into silence, till Sibyll re-entered with her father. + +To the surprise of Marmaduke, Nicholas Alwyn, whose less gallant manner +he was inclined to ridicule, soon contrived to rouse their host from his +lethargy, and to absorb all the notice of Sibyll; and the surprise was +increased, when he saw that his friend appeared not unfamiliar with +those abstruse and mystical sciences in which Adam was engaged. + +“What!” said Adam, “you know, then, my deft and worthy friend Master +Caxton! He hath seen notable things abroad--” + +“Which, he more than hints,” said Nicholas, “will lower the value of +those manuscripts this fair damozel has so couthly enriched; and that +he hopes, ere long, to show the Englishers how to make fifty, a +hundred,--nay even five hundred exemplars of the choicest book, in a +much shorter time than a scribe would take in writing out two or three +score pages in a single copy.” + +“Verily,” said Marmaduke, with a smile of compassion, “the poor man must +be somewhat demented; for I opine that the value of such curiosities +must be in their rarity; and who would care for a book, if five hundred +others had precisely the same?--allowing always, good Nicholas, for thy +friend’s vaunting and over-crowing. Five hundred! By’r Lady, there would +be scarcely five hundred fools in merry England to waste good nobles on +spoilt rags, specially while bows and mail are so dear.” + +“Young gentleman,” said Adam, rebukingly, “meseemeth that thou wrongest +our age and country, to the which, if we have but peace and freedom, I +trust the birth of great discoveries is ordained. Certes, Master Alwyn,” + he added, turning to the goldsmith, “this achievement maybe readily +performed, and hath existed, I heard an ingenious Fleming say years ago, +for many ages amongst a strange people [Query, the Chinese?] known to +the Venetians! But dost thou think there is much appetite among those +who govern the State to lend encouragement to such matters?” + +“My master serves my Lord Hastings, the king’s chamberlain, and my lord +has often been pleased to converse with me, so that I venture to say, +from my knowledge of his affection to all excellent craft and lere, +that whatever will tend to make men wiser will have his countenance and +favour with the king.” + +“That is it, that is it!” exclaimed Adam, rubbing his hands. “My +invention shall not die!” + +“And that invention--” + +“Is one that will multiply exemplars of books without hands; works of +craft without ‘prentice or journeyman; will move wagons and litters +without horses; will direct ships without sails; will--But, alack! it is +not yet complete, and, for want of means, it never may be.” + +Sibyll still kept her animated countenance fixed on Alwyn, whose +intelligence she had already detected, and was charmed with the profound +attention with which he listened. But her eye glancing from his sharp +features to the handsome, honest face of the Nevile, the contrast was so +forcible, that she could not restrain her laughter, though, the moment +after, a keen pang shot through her heart. The worthy Marmaduke had +been in the act of conveying his cup to his lips; the cup stood arrested +midway, his jaws dropped, his eyes opened to their widest extent, an +expression of the most evident consternation and dismay spoke in every +feature; and when he heard the merry laugh of Sibyll, he pushed his +stool from her as far as he well could, and surveyed her with a look of +mingled fear and pity. + +“Alas! thou art sure my poor father is a wizard now?” + +“Pardie!” answered the Nevile. “Hath he not said so? Hath he not spoken +of wagons without horses, ships without sails? And is not all this what +every dissour and jongleur tells us of in his stories of Merlin? Gentle +maiden,” he added earnestly, drawing nearer to her, and whispering in a +voice of much simple pathos, “thou art young, and I owe thee much. +Take care of thyself. Such wonders and derring-do are too solemn for +laughter.” + +“Ah,” answered Sibyll, rising, “I fear they are. How can I expect the +people to be wiser than thou, or their hard natures kinder in their +judgment than thy kind heart?” Her low and melancholy voice went to the +heart thus appealed to. Marmaduke also rose, and followed her into the +parlour, or withdrawing-closet, while Adam and the goldsmith continued +to converse (though Alwyn’s eye followed the young hostess), the former +appearing perfectly unconscious of the secession of his other listeners. +But Alwyn’s attention occasionally wandered, and he soon contrived to +draw his host into the parlour. + +When Nicholas rose, at last, to depart, he beckoned Sibyll aside. “Fair +mistress,” said he, with some awkward hesitation, “forgive a plain, +blunt tongue; but ye of the better birth are not always above aid, even +from such as I am. If you would sell these blazoned manuscripts, I can +not only obtain you a noble purchaser in my Lord Scales, or in my +Lord Hastings, an equally ripe scholar, but it may be the means of my +procuring a suitable patron for your father; and, in these times, the +scholar must creep under the knight’s manteline.” + +“Master Alwyn,” said Sibyll, suppressing her tears, “it was for +my father’s sake that these labours were wrought. We are poor and +friendless. Take the manuscripts, and sell them as thou wilt, and God +and Saint Mary requite thee!” + +“Your father is a great man,” said Alwyn, after a pause. + +“But were he to walk the streets, they would stone him,” replied Sibyll, +with a quiet bitterness. + +Here the Nevile, carefully shunning the magician, who, in the nervous +excitement produced by the conversation of a mind less uncongenial than +he had encountered for many years, seemed about to address him--here, I +say, the Nevile chimed in, “Hast thou no weapon but thy bludgeon? Dear +foster-brother, I fear for thy safety.” + +“Nay, robbers rarely attack us mechanical folk; and I know my way better +than thou. I shall find a boat near York House; so pleasant night and +quick cure to thee, honoured foster-brother. I will send the tailor and +other craftsmen to-morrow.” + +“And at the same time,” whispered Marmaduke, accompanying his friend +to the door, “send me a breviary, just to patter an ave or so. This +gray-haired carle puts my heart in a tremble. Moreover, buy me a +gittern--a brave one--for the damozel. She is too proud to take money, +and, ‘fore Heaven, I have small doubts the old wizard could turn my +hose into nobles an’ he had a mind for such gear. Wagons without horses, +ships without sails, quotha!” + +As soon as Alwyn had departed, Madge appeared with the final +refreshment, called “the Wines,” consisting of spiced hippocras and +confections, of the former of which the Nevile partook in solemn +silence. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. THERE IS A ROD FOR THE BACK OF EVERY FOOL WHO WOULD BE +WISER THAN HIS GENERATION. + +The next morning, when Marmaduke descended to the hall, Madge, accosting +him on the threshold, informed him that Mistress Sibyll was unwell, and +kept her chamber, and that Master Warner was never visible much before +noon. He was, therefore, prayed to take his meal alone. “Alone” was +a word peculiarly unwelcome to Marmaduke Nevile, who was an animal +thoroughly social and gregarious. He managed, therefore, to detain the +old servant, who, besides the liking a skilful leech naturally takes to +a thriving patient, had enough of her sex about her to be pleased with +a comely face and a frank, good-humoured voice. Moreover, Marmaduke, +wishing to satisfy his curiosity, turned the conversation upon Warner +and Sibyll, a theme upon which the old woman was well disposed to be +garrulous. He soon learned the poverty of the mansion and the sacrifice +of the gittern; and his generosity and compassion were busily engaged in +devising some means to requite the hospitality he had received, without +wounding the pride of his host, when the arrival of his mails, together +with the visits of the tailor and mercer, sent to him by Alwyn, diverted +his thoughts into a new channel. + +Between the comparative merits of gowns and surcoats, broad-toed shoes +and pointed, some time was disposed of with much cheerfulness and +edification; but when his visitors had retired, the benevolent mind of +the young guest again recurred to the penury of his host. Placing his +marks before him on the table in the little withdrawing parlour, +he began counting them over, and putting aside the sum he meditated +devoting to Warner’s relief. “But how,” he muttered, “how to get him to +take the gold. I know, by myself, what a gentleman and a knight’s son +must feel at the proffer of alms--pardie! I would as lief Alwyn had +struck me as offered me his gipsire,--the ill-mannered, affectionate +fellow! I must think--I must think--” + +And while still thinking, the door softly opened, and Warner himself, +in a high state of abstraction and revery, stalked noiselessly into +the room, on his way to the garden, in which, when musing over some new +spring for his invention, he was wont to peripatize. The sight of the +gold on the table struck full on the philosopher’s eyes, and waked him +at once from his revery. That gold--oh, what precious instruments, what +learned manuscripts it could purchase! That gold, it was the breath of +life to his model! He walked deliberately up to the table, and laid his +hand upon one of the little heaps. Marmaduke drew back his stool, and +stared at him with open mouth. + +“Young man, what wantest thou with all this gold?” said Adam, in a +petulant, reproachful tone. “Put it up! put it up! Never let the poor +see gold; it tempts them, sir,--it tempts them.” And so saying, the +student abruptly turned away his eyes, and moved towards the garden. +Marmaduke rose and put himself in Adam’s way. “Honoured sir,” said the +young man, “you say justly what want I with all this gold? The only gold +a young man should covet is eno’ to suffice for the knight’s spurs +to his heels. If, without offence, you would--that is--ahem!--I +mean,--Gramercy! I shall never say it, but I believe my father owed your +father four marks, and he bade me repay them. Here, sir!” He held out +the glittering coins; the philosopher’s hand closed on them as the +fish’s maw closes on the bait. Adam burst into a laugh, that sounded +strangely weird and unearthly upon Marmaduke’s startled ear. + +“All this for me!” he exclaimed. “For me! No, no, no! for me, for IT--I +take it--I take it, sir! I will pay it back with large usury. Come to me +this day year, when this world will be a new world, and Adam Warner +will be--ha! ha! Kind Heaven, I thank thee!” Suddenly turning away, the +philosopher strode through the hall, opened the front door, and escaped +into the street. + +“By’r Lady,” said Marmaduke, slowly recovering his surprise, “I need +not have been so much at a loss; the old gentleman takes to my gold as +kindly as if it were mother’s milk. ‘Fore Heaven, mine host’s laugh is +a ghastly thing!” So soliloquizing, he prudently put up the rest of his +money, and locked his mails. + +As time went on, the young man became exceedingly weary of his own +company. Sibyll still withheld her appearance; the gloom of the old +hall, the uncultivated sadness of the lonely garden, preyed upon his +spirits. At length, impatient to get a view of the world without, he +mounted a high stool in the hall, and so contrived to enjoy the prospect +which the unglazed wicker lattice, deep set in the wall, afforded. But +the scene without was little more animated than that within,--all was +so deserted in the neighbourhood,--the shops mean and scattered, the +thoroughfare almost desolate. At last he heard a shout, or rather hoot, +at a distance; and, turning his attention whence it proceeded, he beheld +a figure emerge from an alley opposite the casement, with a sack under +one arm, and several books heaped under the other. At his heels followed +a train of ragged boys, shouting and hallooing, “The wizard! +the wizard!--Ah! Bah! The old devil’s kin!” At this cry the dull +neighbourhood seemed suddenly to burst forth into life. From the +casements and thresholds of every house curious faces emerged, and many +voices of men and women joined, in deeper bass, with the shrill tenor +of the choral urchins, “The wizard! the wizard! out at daylight!” The +person thus stigmatized, as he approached the house, turned his face +with an expression of wistful perplexity from side to side. His lips +moved convulsively, and his face was very pale, but he spoke not. And +now, the children, seeing him near his refuge, became more outrageous. +They placed themselves menacingly before him, they pulled his robe, +they even struck at him; and one, bolder than the rest, jumped up, and +plucked his beard. At this last insult, Adam Warner, for it was he, +broke silence; but such was the sweetness of his disposition, that it +was rather with pity than reproof in his voice, that he said,-- + +“Fie, little one! I fear me thine own age will have small honour if thou +thus mockest mature years in me.” + +This gentleness only served to increase the audacity of his persecutors, +who now, momently augmenting, presented a formidable obstacle to +further progress. Perceiving that he could not advance without offensive +measures on his own part, the poor scholar halted; and looking at the +crowd with mild dignity, he asked, “What means this, my children? How +have I injured you?” + +“The wizard! the wizard!” was the only answer he received. Adam shrugged +his shoulders, and strode on with so sudden a step, that one of the +smaller children, a curly-headed laughing rogue, of about eight years +old, was thrown down at his feet, and the rest gave way. But the +poor man, seeing one of his foes thus fallen, instead of pursuing his +victory, again paused, and forgetful of the precious burdens he carried, +let drop the sack and books, and took up the child in his arms. On +seeing their companion in the embrace of the wizard, a simultaneous cry +of horror broke from the assemblage, “He is going to curse poor Tim!” + +“My child! my boy!” shrieked a woman, from one of the casements; “let go +my child!” + +On his part, the boy kicked and shrieked lustily, as Adam, bending his +noble face tenderly over him, said, “Thou art not hurt, child. Poor +boy! thinkest thou I would harm thee?” While he spoke a storm of +missiles--mud, dirt, sticks, bricks, stones--from the enemy, that had +now fallen back in the rear, burst upon him. A stone struck him on the +shoulder. Then his face changed; an angry gleam shot from his deep, calm +eyes; he put down the child, and, turning steadily to the grown people +at the windows, said, “Ye train your children ill;” picked up his sack +and books, sighed, as he saw the latter stained by the mire, which he +wiped with his long sleeve, and too proud to show fear, slowly made for +his door. Fortunately Sibyll had heard the clamour, and was ready to +admit her father, and close the door upon the rush which instantaneously +followed his escape. The baffled rout set up a yell of wrath, and the +boys were now joined by several foes more formidable from the adjacent +houses; assured in their own minds that some terrible execration +had been pronounced upon the limbs and body of Master Tim, who still +continued bellowing and howling, probably from the excitement of finding +himself raised to the dignity of a martyr, the pious neighbours poured +forth, with oaths and curses, and such weapons as they could seize in +haste, to storm the wizard’s fortress. + +From his casement Marmaduke Nevile had espied all that had hitherto +passed, and though indignant at the brutality of the persecutors, he +had thought it by no means unnatural. “If men, gentlemen born, will read +uncanny books, and resolve to be wizards, why, they must reap what they +sow,” was the logical reflection that passed through the mind of that +ingenuous youth; but when he now perceived the arrival of more important +allies, when stones began to fly through the wicker lattice, when +threats of setting fire to the house and burning the sorcerer who +muttered spells over innocent little boys were heard, seriously +increasing in depth and loudness, Marmaduke felt his chivalry called +forth, and with some difficulty opening the rusty wicket in the +casement, he exclaimed: “Shame on you, my countrymen, for thus +disturbing in broad day a peaceful habitation! Ye call mine host a +wizard. Thus much say I on his behalf: I was robbed and wounded a few +nights since in your neighbourhood, and in this house alone I found +shelter and healing.” + +The unexpected sight of the fair young face of Marmaduke Nevile, and the +healthful sound of his clear ringing voice, produced a momentary effect +on the besiegers, when one of them, a sturdy baker, cried out, “Heed him +not,--he is a goblin. Those devil-mongers can bake ye a dozen such every +moment, as deftly as I can draw loaves from the oven!” + +This speech turned the tide, and at that instant a savage-looking man, +the father of the aggrieved boy, followed by his wife, gesticulating and +weeping, ran from his house, waving a torch in his right hand, his arm +bare to the shoulder; and the cry of “Fire the door!” was universal. + +In fact, the danger now grew imminent: several of the party were already +piling straw and fagots against the threshold, and Marmaduke began to +think the only chance of life to his host and Sibyll was in flight by +some back way, when he beheld a man, clad somewhat in the fashion of a +country yeoman, a formidable knotted club in his hand, pushing his way, +with Herculean shoulders, through the crowd; and stationing himself +before the threshold and brandishing aloft his formidable weapon, he +exclaimed, “What! In the devil’s name, do you mean to get yourselves all +hanged for riot? Do you think that King Edward is as soft a man as King +Henry was, and that he will suffer any one but himself to set fire to +people’s houses in this way? I dare say you are all right enough in the +main, but by the blood of Saint Thomas, I will brain the first man who +advances a step,--by way of preserving the necks of the rest!” + +“A Robin! a Robin!” cried several of the mob. “It is our good friend +Robin. Harken to Robin. He is always right.” + +“Ay, that I am!” quoth the defender; “you know that well enough. If I +had my way, the world should be turned upside down, but what the poor +folk should get nearer to the sun! But what I say is this, never go +against law, while the law is too strong. And it were a sad thing to see +fifty fine fellows trussed up for burning an old wizard. So, be off +with you, and let us, at least all that can afford it, make for Master +Sancroft’s hostelrie and talk soberly over our ale. For little, I trow, +will ye work now your blood’s up.” + +This address was received with a shout of approbation. The father of the +injured child set his broad foot on his torch, the baker chucked up his +white cap, the ragged boys yelled out, “A Robin! a Robin!” and in +less than two minutes the place was as empty as it had been before the +appearance of the scholar. Marmaduke, who, though so ignorant of books, +was acute and penetrating in all matters of action, could not help +admiring the address and dexterity of the club-bearer; and the danger +being now over, withdrew from the casement, in search of the inmates of +the house. Ascending the stairs, he found on the landing-place, near +his room, and by the embrasure of a huge casement which jutted from the +wall, Adam and his daughter. Adam was leaning against the wall, with his +arms folded, and Sibyll, hanging upon him, was uttering the softest and +most soothing words of comfort her tenderness could suggest. + +“My child,” said the old man, shaking his head sadly, “I shall never +again have heart for these studies,--never! A king’s anger I could +brave, a priest’s malice I could pity; but to find the very children, +the young race for whose sake I have made thee and myself paupers, to +find them thus--thus--” He stopped, for his voice failed him, and the +tears rolled down his cheeks. + +“Come and speak comfort to my father, Master Nevile,” exclaimed Sibyll; +“come and tell him that whoever is above the herd, whether knight or +scholar, must learn to despise the hootings that follow Merit. Father, +Father, they threw mud and stones at thy king as he passed through +the streets of London. Thou art not the only one whom this base world +misjudges.” + +“Worthy mine host!” said Marmaduke, thus appealed to, “Algates, it were +not speaking truth to tell thee that I think a gentleman of birth and +quality should walk the thoroughfares with a bundle of books under his +arm; yet as for the raptril vulgar, the hildings and cullions who +hiss one day what they applaud the next, I hold it the duty of every +Christian and well-born man to regard them as the dirt on the crossings. +Brave soldiers term it no disgrace to receive a blow from a base hind. +An’ it had been knights and gentles who had insulted thee, thou mightest +have cause for shame. But a mob of lewd rascallions and squalling +infants--bah! verily, it is mere matter for scorn and laughter.” + +These philosophical propositions and distinctions did not seem to have +their due effect upon Adam. He smiled, however, gently upon his guest, +and with a blush over his pale face, said, “I am rightly chastised, good +young man; mean was I, methinks, and sordid to take from thee thy good +gold. But thou knowest not what fever burns in the brain of a man who +feels that, had he wealth, his knowledge could do great things,--such +things!--I thought to repay thee well. Now the frenzy is gone, and +I, who an hour ago esteemed myself a puissant sage, sink in mine own +conceit to a miserable blinded fool. Child, I am very weak; I will lay +me down and rest.” + +So saying, the poor philosopher went his way to his chamber, leaning on +his daughter’s arm. + +In a few minutes Sibyll rejoined Marmaduke, who had returned to the +hall, and informed him that her father had lain down a while to compose +himself. + +“It is a hard fate, sir,” said the girl, with a faint smile,--“a hard +fate, to be banned and accursed by the world, only because one has +sought to be wiser than the world is.” + +“Douce maiden,” returned the Nevile, “it is happy for thee that thy sex +forbids thee to follow thy father’s footsteps, or I should say his hard +fate were thy fair warning.” + +Sibyll smiled faintly, and after a pause, said, with a deep blush,-- + +“You have been generous to my father; do not misjudge him. He would give +his last groat to a starving beggar. But when his passion of scholar and +inventor masters him, thou mightest think him worse than miser. It is an +overnoble yearning that ofttimes makes him mean.” + +“Nay,” answered Marmaduke, touched by the heavy sigh and swimming eyes +with which the last words were spoken; “I have heard Nick Alwyn’s uncle, +who was a learned monk, declare that he could not constrain himself to +pray to be delivered from temptation, seeing that he might thereby lose +an occasion for filching some notable book! For the rest,” he added, +“you forget how much I owe to Master Warner’s hospitality.” + +He took her hand with a frank and brotherly gallantry as he spoke; but +the touch of that small, soft hand, freely and innocently resigned to +him, sent a thrill to his heart--and again the face of Sibyll seemed to +him wondrous fair. + +There was a long silence, which Sibyll was the first to break. She +turned the conversation once more upon Marmaduke’s views in life. It had +been easy for a deeper observer than he was to see that, under all +that young girl’s simplicity and sweetness, there lurked something of +dangerous ambition. She loved to recall the court-life her childhood had +known, though her youth had resigned it with apparent cheerfulness. Like +many who are poor and fallen, Sibyll built herself a sad consolation out +of her pride; she never forgot that she was well-born. But Marmaduke, in +what was ambition, saw but interest in himself, and his heart beat more +quickly as he bent his eyes upon that downcast, thoughtful, earnest +countenance. + +After an hour thus passed, Sibyll left the guest, and remounted to her +father’s chamber. She found Adam pacing the narrow floor, and muttering +to himself. He turned abruptly as she entered, and said, “Come hither, +child; I took four marks from that young man, for I wanted books and +instruments, and there are two left; see, take them back to him.” + +“My father, he will not receive them. Fear not, thou shalt repay him +some day.” + +“Take them, I say, and if the young man says thee nay, why, buy thyself +gauds and gear, or let us eat, and drink, and laugh. What else is life +made for? Ha, ha! Laugh, child, laugh!” + +There was something strangely pathetic in this outburst, this terrible +mirth, born of profound dejection. Alas for this guileless, simple +creature, who had clutched at gold with a huckster’s eagerness! who, +forgetting the wants of his own child, had employed it upon the service +of an Abstract Thought, and whom the scorn of his kind now pierced +through all the folds of his close-webbed philosophy and self forgetful +genius. Awful is the duel between MAN and THE AGE in which he lives! For +the gain of posterity, Adam Warner had martyrized existence,--and the +children pelted him as he passed the streets! Sibyll burst into tears. + +“No, my father, no,” she sobbed, pushing back the money into his hands. +“Let us both starve rather than you should despond. God and man will +bring you justice yet.” + +“Ah,” said the baffled enthusiast, “my whole mind is one sore now! I +feel as if I could love man no more. Go, and leave me. Go, I say!” and +the poor student, usually so mild and gall-less, stamped his foot in +impotent rage. Sibyll, weeping as if her heart would break, left him. + +Then Adam Warner again paced to and fro restlessly, and again muttered +to himself for several minutes. At last he approached his Model,--the +model of a mighty and stupendous invention, the fruit of no chimerical +and visionary science; a great Promethean THING, that, once matured, +would divide the Old World from the New, enter into all operations +of Labour, animate all the future affairs, colour all the practical +doctrines of active men. He paused before it, and addressed it as if +it heard and understood him: “My hair was dark, and my tread was firm, +when, one night, a THOUGHT passed into my soul,--a thought to make +Matter the gigantic slave of Mind. Out of this thought, thou, not yet +born after five-and-twenty years of travail, wert conceived. My coffers +were then full, and my name was honoured; and the rich respected and the +poor loved me. Art thou a devil, that has tempted me to ruin, or a god, +that has lifted me above the earth? I am old before my time, my hair is +blanched, my frame is bowed, my wealth is gone, my name is sullied. And +all, dumb idol of Iron and the Element, all for thee! I had a wife whom +I adored; she died,--I forgot her loss in the hope of thy life. I have +a child still--God and our Lady forgive me! she is less dear to me than +thou hast been. And now”--the old man ceased abruptly, and folding his +arms, looked at the deaf iron sternly, as on a human foe. By his side +was a huge hammer, employed in the toils of his forge; suddenly he +seized and swung it aloft. One blow, and the labour of years was +shattered into pieces! One blow!--But the heart failed him, and the +hammer fell heavily to the ground. + +“Ay!” he muttered, “true, true! if thou, who hast destroyed all else, +wert destroyed too, what were left me? Is it a crime to murder Alan?--a +greater crime to murder Thought, which is the life of all men! Come, I +forgive thee!” + +And all that day and all that night the Enthusiast laboured in his +chamber, and the next day the remembrance of the hooting, the pelting, +the mob, was gone,--clean gone from his breast. The Model began to move, +life hovered over its wheels; and the Martyr of Science had forgotten +the very world for which he, groaning and rejoicing, toiled! + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. MASTER MARMADUKE NEVILE MAKES LOVE, AND IS FRIGHTENED. + +For two or three days Marmaduke and Sibyll were necessarily brought much +together. Such familiarity of intercourse was peculiarly rare in that +time, when, except perhaps in the dissolute court of Edward IV., the +virgins of gentle birth mixed sparingly, and with great reserve, amongst +those of opposite sex. Marmaduke, rapidly recovering from the effect +of his wounds, and without other resource than Sibyll’s society in the +solitude of his confinement, was not proof against the temptation which +one so young and so sweetly winning brought to his fancy or his senses. +The poor Sibyll--she was no faultless paragon,--she was a rare and +singular mixture of many opposite qualities in heart and in intellect! +She was one moment infantine in simplicity and gay playfulness; the next +a shade passed over her bright face, and she uttered some sentence of +that bitter and chilling wisdom, which the sense of persecution, the +cruelty of the world, had already taught her. She was, indeed, at that +age when the Child and the Woman are struggling against each other. Her +character was not yet formed,--a little happiness would have ripened +it at once into the richest bloom of goodness. But sorrow, that ever +sharpens the intellect, might only serve to sour the heart. Her mind +was so innately chaste and pure, that she knew not the nature of the +admiration she excited; but the admiration pleased her as it pleases +some young child; she was vain then, but it was an infant’s vanity, not +a woman’s. And thus, from innocence itself, there was a fearlessness, a +freedom, a something endearing and familiar in her manner, which might +have turned a wiser head than Marmaduke Nevile’s. And this the more, +because, while liking her young guest, confiding in him, raised in her +own esteem by his gallantry, enjoying that intercourse of youth with +youth so unfamiliar to her, and surrendering herself the more to its +charm from the joy that animated her spirits, in seeing that her father +had forgotten his humiliation, and returned to his wonted labours,--she +yet knew not for the handsome Nevile one sentiment that approached to +love. Her mind was so superior to his own, that she felt almost as if +older in years, and in their talk her rosy lips preached to him in grave +advice. + +On the landing, by Marmaduke’s chamber, there was a large oriel casement +jutting from the wall. It was only glazed at the upper part, and that +most imperfectly, the lower part being closed at night or in inclement +weather with rude shutters. The recess formed by this comfortless +casement answered, therefore, the purpose of a balcony; it commanded +a full view of the vicinity without, and gave to those who might be +passing by the power also of indulging their own curiosity by a view of +the interior. + +Whenever he lost sight of Sibyll, and had grown weary of the peacock, +this spot was Marmaduke’s favourite haunt. It diverted him, poor youth, +to look out of the window upon the livelier world beyond. The place, it +is true, was ordinarily deserted, but still the spires and turrets of +London were always discernible,--and they were something. + +Accordingly, in this embrasure stood Marmaduke, when one morning, +Sibyll, coming from her father’s room, joined him. + +“And what, Master Nevile,” said Sibyll, with a malicious yet charming +smile, “what claimed thy meditations? Some misgiving as to the trimming +of thy tunic, or the length of thy shoon?” + +“Nay,” returned Marmaduke, gravely, “such thoughts, though not without +their importance in the mind of a gentleman, who would not that his +ignorance of court delicacies should commit him to the japes of his +equals, were not at that moment uppermost. I was thinking--” + +“Of those mastiffs, quarrelling for a bone. Avow it.” + +“By our Lady, I saw them not, but now I look, they are brave dogs. Ha! +seest thou how gallantly each fronts the other, the hair bristling, the +eyes fixed, the tail on end, the fangs glistening? Now the lesser one +moves slowly round and round the bigger, who, mind you, Mistress +Sibyll, is no dullard, but moves, too, quick as thought, not to be +taken unawares. Ha! that is a brave spring! Heigh, dogs, Neigh! a good +sight!--it makes the blood warm! The little one hath him by the throat!” + +“Alack,” said Sibyll, turning away her eyes, “can you find pleasure in +seeing two poor brutes mangle each other for a bone?” + +“By Saint Dunstan! doth it matter what may be the cause of quarrel, so +long as dog or man bears himself bravely, with a due sense of honour and +derring-do? See! the big one is up again. Ah, foul fall the butcher, who +drives them away! Those seely mechanics know not the joyaunce of fair +fighting to gentle and to hound. For a hound, mark you, hath nothing +mechanical in his nature. He is a gentleman all over,--brave against +equal and stranger, forbearing to the small and defenceless, true in +poverty and need where he loveth, stern and ruthless where he hateth, +and despising thieves, hildings, and the vulgar as much as e’er a gold +spur in King Edward’s court! Oh, certes, your best gentleman is the best +hound!” + +“You moralize to-day; and I know not how to gainsay you,” returned +Sibyll, as the dogs, reluctantly beaten off, retired each from each, +snarling and reluctant, while a small black cur, that had hitherto sat +unobserved at the door of a small hostelrie, now coolly approached and +dragged off the bone of contention. “But what sayst thou now? See! see! +the patient mongrel carries off the bone from the gentleman-hounds. Is +that the way of the world?” + +“Pardie! it is a naught world, if so, and much changed from the time of +our fathers, the Normans. But these Saxons are getting uppermost again, +and the yard measure, I fear me, is more potent in these holiday times +than the mace or the battle-axe.” The Nevile paused, sighed, and changed +the subject: “This house of thine must have been a stately pile in its +day. I see but one side of the quadrangle is left, though it be easy to +trace where the other three have stood.” + +“And you may see their stones and their fittings in the butcher’s and +baker’s stalls over the way,” replied Sibyll. + +“Ay!” said the Nevile, “the parings of the gentry begin to be the wealth +of the varlets.” + +“Little ought we to pine at that,” returned Sibyll, “if the varlets were +but gentle with our poverty; but they loathe the humbled fortunes on +which they rise, and while slaves to the rich, are tyrants to the poor.” + +This was said so sadly, that the Nevile felt his eyes overflow; and the +humble dress of the girl, the melancholy ridges which evinced the site +of a noble house, now shrunk into a dismal ruin, the remembrance of the +pastime-ground, the insults of the crowd, and the broken gittern, all +conspired to move his compassion, and to give force to yet more tender +emotions. + +“Ah,” he said suddenly, and with a quick faint blush over his handsome +and manly countenance,--“ah, fair maid--fair Sibyll--God grant that I +may win something of gold and fortune amidst yonder towers, on which the +sun shines so cheerly. God grant it, not for my sake,--not for mine; but +that I may have something besides a true heart and a stainless name to +lay at thy feet. Oh, Sibyll! By this hand, by my father’s soul, I love +thee, Sibyll! Have I not said it before? Well, hear me now,--I love +thee!” + +As he spoke, he clasped her hand in his own, and she suffered it for one +instant to rest in his. Then withdrawing it, and meeting his enamoured +eyes with a strange sadness in her own darker, deeper, and more +intelligent orbs, she said,-- + +“I thank thee,--thank thee for the honour of such kind thoughts; and +frankly I answer, as thou hast frankly spoken. It was sweet to me, who +have known little in life not hard and bitter,--sweet to wish I had a +brother like thee, and, as a brother, I can love and pray for thee. +But ask not more, Marmaduke. I have aims in life which forbid all other +love.” + +“Art thou too aspiring for one who has his spurs to win?” + +“Not so; but listen. My mother’s lessons and my own heart have made my +poor father the first end and object of all things on earth to me. I +live to protect him, work for him, honour him; and for the rest, I have +thoughts thou canst not know, an ambition thou canst not feel. Nay,” she +added, with that delightful smile which chased away the graver thought +which had before saddened her aspect, “what would thy sober friend +Master Alwyn say to thee, if he heard thou hadst courted the wizard’s +daughter?” + +“By my faith,” exclaimed Marmaduke, “thou art a very April,--smiles +and clouds in a breath! If what thou despisest in me be my want of +bookcraft, and such like, by my halidame I will turn scholar for thy +sake; and--” + +Here, as he had again taken Sibyll’s hand, with the passionate ardour of +his bold nature, not to be lightly daunted by a maiden’s first “No,” a +sudden shrill, wild burst of laughter, accompanied with a gusty fit +of unmelodious music from the street below, made both maiden and youth +start, and turn their eyes; there, weaving their immodest dance, tawdry +in their tinsel attire, their naked arms glancing above their heads, as +they waved on high their instruments, went the timbrel-girls. + +“Ha, ha!” cried their leader, “see the gallant and the witch-leman! The +glamour has done its work! Foul is fair! foul is fair! and the devil +will have his own!” + +But these creatures, whose bold license the ancient chronicler records, +were rarely seen alone. They haunted parties of pomp and pleasure; +they linked together the extremes of life,--the grotesque Chorus that +introduced the terrible truth of foul vice and abandoned wretchedness +in the midst of the world’s holiday and pageant. So now, as they wheeled +into the silent, squalid street, they heralded a goodly company of dames +and cavaliers on horseback, who were passing through the neighbouring +plains into the park of Marybone to enjoy the sport of falconry. The +splendid dresses of this procession, and the grave and measured dignity +with which it swept along, contrasted forcibly with the wild movements +and disorderly mirth of the timbrel-players. These last darted round +and round the riders, holding out their instruments for largess, and +retorting, with laugh and gibe, the disdainful look or sharp rebuke with +which their salutations were mostly received. + +Suddenly, as the company, two by two, paced up the street, Sibyll +uttered a faint exclamation, and strove to snatch her hand from the +Nevile’s grasp. Her eye rested upon one of the horsemen, who rode last, +and who seemed in earnest conversation with a dame, who, though scarcely +in her first youth, excelled all her fair companions in beauty of face +and grace of horsemanship, as well as in the costly equipments of the +white barb that caracoled beneath her easy hand. At the same moment the +horseman looked up and gazed steadily at Sibyll, whose countenance +grew pale, and flushed, in a breath. His eye then glanced rapidly at +Marmaduke; a half-smile passed his pale, firm lips; he slightly raised +the plumed cap from his brow, inclined gravely to Sibyll, and, turning +once more to his companion, appeared to answer some question she +addressed to him as to the object of his salutation, for her look, +which was proud, keen, and lofty, was raised to Sibyll, and then dropped +somewhat disdainfully, as she listened to the words addressed her by the +cavalier. + +The lynx eyes of the tymbesteres had seen the recognition; and their +leader, laying her bold hand on the embossed bridle of the horseman, +exclaimed, in a voice shrill and loud enough to be heard in the balcony +above, “Largess! noble lord, largess! for the sake of the lady thou +lovest best!” + +The fair equestrian turned away her head at these words; the nobleman +watched her a moment, and dropped some coins into the timbrel. + +“Ha, ha!” cried the tymbestere, pointing her long arm to Sibyll, and +springing towards the balcony,-- + + “The cushat would mate + Above her state, + And she flutters her wings round the falcon’s beak; + But death to the dove + Is the falcon’s love! + Oh, sharp is the kiss of the falcon’s beak!” + +Before this rude song was ended, Sibyll had vanished from the place; +the cavalcade had disappeared. The timbrel-players, without deigning to +notice Marmaduke, darted elsewhere to ply their discordant trade, and +the Nevile, crossing himself devoutly, muttered, “Jesu defend us! Those +she Will-o’-the-wisps are eno’ to scare all the blood out of one’s body. +What--a murrain on them!--do they portend, flitting round and round, and +skirting off, as if the devil’s broomstick was behind them! By the Mass! +they have frighted away the damozel, and I am not sorry for it. They +have left me small heart for the part of Sir Launval.” + +His meditations were broken off by the sudden sight of Nicholas Alwyn, +mounted on a small palfrey, and followed by a sturdy groom on horseback, +leading a steed handsomely caparisoned. In another moment, Marmaduke had +descended, opened the door, and drawn Alwyn into the hall. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. MASTER MARMADUKE NEVILE LEAVES THE WIZARD’S HOUSE FOR THE +GREAT WORLD. + +“Right glad am I,” said Nicholas, “to see you so stout and hearty, for +I am the bearer of good news. Though I have been away, I have not +forgotten you; and it so chanced that I went yesterday to attend my +Lord of Warwick with some nowches [buckles and other ornaments] and +knackeries, that he takes out as gifts and exemplars of English work. +They were indifferently well wrought, specially a chevesail, of which +the--” + +“Spare me the fashion of thy mechanicals, and come to the point,” + interrupted Marmaduke, impatiently. + +“Pardon me, Master Nevile. I interrupt thee not when thou talkest of +bassinets and hauberks,--every cobbler to his last. But, as thou sayest, +to the point: the stout earl, while scanning my workmanship, for in much +the chevesail was mine, was pleased to speak graciously of my skill with +the bow, of which he had heard; and he then turned to thyself, of whom +my Lord Montagu had already made disparaging mention. When I told the +earl somewhat more about thy qualities and disposings, and when I spoke +of thy desire to serve him, and the letter of which thou art the bearer, +his black brows smoothed mighty graciously, and he bade me tell thee to +come to him this afternoon, and he would judge of thee with his own eyes +and ears. Wherefore I have ordered the craftsman to have all thy gauds +and gear ready at thine hostelrie, and I have engaged thee henchmen and +horses for thy fitting appearance. Be quick: time and the great wait for +no man. So take whatever thou needest for present want from thy mails, +and I will send a porter for the rest ere sunset.” + +“But the gittern for the damozel?” + +“I have provided that for thee, as is meet.” And Nicholas, stepping +back, eased the groom of a case which contained a gittern, whose +workmanship and ornaments delighted the Nevile. + +“It is of my lord the young Duke of Gloucester’s own musical-vendor; and +the duke, though a lad yet, is a notable judge of all appertaining to +the gentle craft. [For Richard III.’s love of music, and patronage of +musicians and minstrels, see the discriminating character of that prince +in Sharon Turner’s “History of England,” vol. IV. p. 66.] So despatch, +and away!” + +Marmaduke retired to his chamber, and Nicholas, after a moment spent in +silent thought, searched the room for the hand-bell, which then made the +mode of communication between the master and domestics. Not finding this +necessary luxury, he contrived at last to make Madge hear his voice +from her subterranean retreat; and on her arrival, sent her in quest of +Sibyll. + +The answer he received was, that Mistress Sibyll was ill, and unable to +see him. Alwyn looked disconcerted at this intelligence, but, drawing +from his girdle a small gipsire, richly broidered, he prayed Madge to +deliver it to her young mistress, and inform her that it was the fruit +of the commission with which she had honoured him. + +“It is passing strange,” said he, pacing the hall alone,--“passing +strange, that the poor child should have taken such hold on me. After +all, she would be a bad wife for a plain man like me. Tush! that is the +trader’s thought all over. Have I brought no fresher feeling out of my +fair village-green? Would it not be sweet to work for her, and rise in +life, with her by my side? And these girls of the city, so prim and so +brainless!--as well marry a painted puppet. Sibyll! Am I dement? Stark +wode? What have I to do with girls and marriage? Humph! I marvel what +Marmaduke still thinks of her,--and she of him.” + +While Alwyn thus soliloquized, the Nevile having hastily arranged his +dress, and laden himself with the moneys his mails contained, summoned +old Madge to receive his largess, and to conduct him to Warner’s +chamber, in order to proffer his farewell. + +With somewhat of a timid step he followed the old woman (who kept +muttering thanks and benedicites as she eyed the coin in her palm) up +the ragged stairs, and for the first time knocked at the door of the +student’s sanctuary. No answer came. “Eh, sir! you must enter,” said +Madge; “an’ you fired a bombard under his ear he would not heed you.” + So, suiting the action to the word, she threw open the door, and closed +it behind him, as Marmaduke entered. + +The room was filled with smoke, through which mirky atmosphere the clear +red light of the burning charcoal peered out steadily like a Cyclop’s +eye. A small, but heaving, regular, labouring, continuous sound, as of +a fairy hammer, smote the young man’s ear. But as his gaze, accustoming +itself to the atmosphere, searched around, he could not perceive what +was its cause. Adam Warner was standing in the middle of the room, his +arms folded, and contemplating something at a little distance, which +Marmaduke could not accurately distinguish. The youth took courage, and +approached. “Honoured mine host,” said he, “I thank thee for +hospitality and kindness, I crave pardon for disturbing thee in thy +incanta--ehem!--thy--thy studies, and I come to bid thee farewell.” + +Adam turned round with a puzzled, absent air, as if scarcely recognizing +his guest; at length, as his recollection slowly came back to him, he +smiled graciously, and said: “Good youth, thou art richly welcome to +what little it was in my power to do for thee. Peradventure a time may +come when they who seek the roof of Adam Warner may find less homely +cheer, a less rugged habitation,--for look you!” he exclaimed suddenly, +with a burst of irrepressible enthusiasm--and laying his hand on +Nevile’s arm, as, through all the smoke and grime that obscured his +face, flashed the ardent soul of the triumphant Inventor,--“look you! +since you have been in this house, one of my great objects is well-nigh +matured,--achieved. Come hither,” and he dragged the wondering Marmaduke +to his model, or Eureka, as Adam had fondly named his contrivance. The +Nevile then perceived that it was from the interior of this machine that +the sound which had startled him arose; to his eye the THING was uncouth +and hideous; from the jaws of an iron serpent, that, wreathing round it, +rose on high with erect crest, gushed a rapid volume of black smoke, +and a damp spray fell around. A column of iron in the centre kept in +perpetual and regular motion, rising and sinking successively, as the +whole mechanism within seemed alive with noise and action. + +“The Syracusan asked an inch of earth, beyond the earth, to move the +earth,” said Adam; “I stand in the world, and lo! with this engine the +world shall one day be moved.” + +“Holy Mother!” faltered Marmaduke; “I pray thee, dread sir, to ponder +well ere thou attemptest any such sports with the habitation in which +every woman’s son is so concerned. Bethink thee, that if in moving the +world thou shouldst make any mistake, it would--” + +“Now stand there and attend,” interrupted Adam, who had not heard one +word of this judicious exhortation. + +“Pardon me, terrible sir!” exclaimed Marmaduke, in great trepidation, +and retreating rapidly to the door; “but I have heard that the fiends +are mighty malignant to all lookers-on not initiated.” + +While he spoke, fast gushed the smoke, heavily heaved the fairy hammers, +up and down, down and up, sank or rose the column, with its sullen +sound. The young man’s heart sank to the soles of his feet. + +“Indeed and in truth,” he stammered out, “I am but a dolt in these +matters; I wish thee all success compatible with the weal of a +Christian, and bid thee, in sad humility, good day:” and he added, in a +whisper--“the Lord’s forgiveness! Amen!” + +Marmaduke then fairly rushed through the open door, and hurried out of +the chamber as fast as possible. + +He breathed more freely as he descended the stairs. “Before I would +call that gray carle my father, or his child my wife, may I feel all +the hammers of the elves and sprites he keeps tortured within that +ugly little prison-house playing a death’s march on my body! Holy Saint +Dunstan, the timbrel-girls came in time! They say these wizards always +have fair daughters, and their love can be no blessing!” + +As he thus muttered, the door of Sibyll’s chamber opened, and she stood +before him at the threshold. Her countenance was very pale, and bore +evidence of weeping. There was a silence on both sides, which the girl +was the first to break. + +“So, Madge tells me thou art about to leave us?” + +“Yes, gentle maiden! I--I--that is, my Lord of Warwick has summoned me. +I wish and pray for all blessings on thee! and--and--if ever it be mine +to serve or aid thee, it will be--that is--verily, my tongue falters, +but my heart--that is--fare thee well, maiden! Would thou hadst a less +wise father; and so may the saints (Saint Anthony especially, whom the +Evil One was parlous afraid of) guard and keep thee!” + +With this strange and incoherent address, Marmaduke left the maiden +standing by the threshold of her miserable chamber. Hurrying into the +hall, he summoned Alwyn from his meditations, and, giving the gittern +to Madge, with an injunction to render it to her mistress, with his +greeting and service, he vaulted lightly on his steed; the steady and +more sober Alwyn mounted his palfrey with slow care and due caution. +As the air of spring waved the fair locks of the young cavalier, as the +good horse caracoled under his lithesome weight, his natural temper of +mind, hardy, healthful, joyous, and world-awake, returned to him. The +image of Sibyll and her strange father fled from his thoughts like +sickly dreams. + + + + +BOOK II. THE KING’S COURT. + + + + +CHAPTER I. EARL WARWICK THE KING-MAKER. + +The young men entered the Strand, which, thanks to the profits of a +toll-bar, was a passable road for equestrians, studded towards the +river, as we have before observed, with stately and half-fortified +mansions; while on the opposite side, here and there, were straggling +houses of a humbler kind,--the mediaeval villas of merchant and trader +(for, from the earliest period since the Conquest, the Londoners had +delight in such retreats), surrounded with blossoming orchards, [On +all sides, without the suburbs, are the citizens’ gardens and orchards, +etc.--FITZSTEPHEN.] and adorned in front with the fleur-de-lis, emblem +of the vain victories of renowned Agincourt. But by far the greater +portion of the road northward stretched, unbuilt upon, towards a +fair chain of fields and meadows, refreshed by many brooks, “turning +water-mills with a pleasant noise.” High rose, on the thoroughfare, +the famous Cross, at which “the Judges Itinerant whilome sate, without +London.” [Stowe.] There, hallowed and solitary, stood the inn for the +penitent pilgrims, who sought “the murmuring runnels” of St. Clement’s +healing well; for in this neighbourhood, even from the age of the Roman, +springs of crystal wave and salubrious virtue received the homage of +credulous disease. Through the gloomy arches of the Temple Gate and +Lud, our horsemen wound their way, and finally arrived in safety at +Marmaduke’s hostelrie in the East Chepe. Here Marmaduke found the +decorators of his comely person already assembled. The simpler yet more +manly fashions he had taken from the provinces were now exchanged for an +attire worthy the kinsman of the great minister of a court unparalleled, +since the reign of William the Red King, for extravagant gorgeousness of +dress. His corset was of the finest cloth, sown with seed pearls; above +it the lawn shirt, worn without collar, partially appeared, fringed +with gold; over this was loosely hung a super-tunic of crimson sarcenet, +slashed and pounced with a profusion of fringes. His velvet cap, +turned up at the sides, extended in a point far over the forehead. His +hose--under which appellation is to be understood what serves us of the +modern day both for stockings and pantaloons--were of white cloth; and +his shoes, very narrow, were curiously carved into chequer work at the +instep, and tied with bobbins of gold thread, turning up like skates +at the extremity, three inches in length. His dagger was suspended by a +slight silver-gilt chain, and his girdle contained a large gipsire, or +pouch, of embossed leather, richly gilt. + +And this dress, marvellous as it seemed to the Nevile, the tailor +gravely assured him was far under the mark of the highest fashion, +and that an’ the noble youth had been a knight, the shoes would have +stretched at least three inches farther over the natural length of the +feet, the placard have shone with jewels, and the tunic luxuriated in +flowers of damacene. Even as it was, however, Marmaduke felt a natural +diffidence of his habiliments, which cost him a round third of his +whole capital; and no bride ever unveiled herself with more shamefaced +bashfulness than did Marmaduke Nevile experience when he remounted his +horse, and, taking leave of his foster-brother, bent his way to Warwick +Lane, where the earl lodged. + +The narrow streets were, however, crowded with equestrians whose dress +eclipsed his own, some bending their way to the Tower, some to the +palaces of the Flete. Carriages there were none, and only twice he +encountered the huge litters, in which some aged prelate or some +high-born dame veiled greatness from the day. But the frequent vistas +to the river gave glimpses of the gay boats and barges that crowded the +Thames, which was then the principal thoroughfare for every class, but +more especially the noble. The ways were fortunately dry and clean for +London, though occasionally deep holes and furrows in the road menaced +perils to the unwary horseman. The streets themselves might well +disappoint in splendour the stranger’s eye; for although, viewed at a +distance, ancient London was incalculably more picturesque and stately +than the modern, yet when fairly in its tortuous labyrinths, it seemed +to those who had improved the taste by travel the meanest and the +mirkiest capital of Christendom. The streets were marvellously narrow, +the upper stories, chiefly of wood, projecting far over the lower, which +were formed of mud and plaster. The shops were pitiful booths, and the +‘prentices standing at the entrance bare-headed and cap in hand, and +lining the passages, as the old French writer avers, comme idoles, +[Perlin] kept up an eternal din with their clamorous invitations, +often varied by pert witticisms on some churlish passenger, or loud +vituperations of each other. The whole ancient family of the London +criers were in full bay. Scarcely had Marmaduke’s ears recovered +the shock of “Hot peascods,--all hot!” than they were saluted with +“Mackerel!” “Sheep’s feet! hot sheep’s feet!” At the smaller taverns +stood the inviting vociferaters of “Cock-pie,” “Ribs of beef,--hot +beef!” while, blended with these multi-toned discords, whined the +vielle, or primitive hurdy-gurdy, screamed the pipe, twanged the harp, +from every quarter where the thirsty paused to drink, or the idler stood +to gape. [See Lydgate: London Lyckpenny.] + +Through this Babel Marmaduke at last slowly wound his way, and arrived +before the mighty mansion in which the chief baron of England held his +state. + +As he dismounted and resigned his steed to the servitor hired for him by +Alwyn, Marmaduke paused a moment, struck by the disparity, common as +it was to eyes more accustomed to the metropolis, between the stately +edifice and the sordid neighbourhood. He had not noticed this so much +when he had repaired to the earl’s house on his first arrival in London, +for his thoughts then had been too much bewildered by the general +bustle and novelty of the scene; but now it seemed to him that he better +comprehended the homage accorded to a great noble in surveying, at a +glance, the immeasurable eminence to which he was elevated above his +fellow-men by wealth and rank. + +Far on either side of the wings of the earl’s abode stretched, in +numerous deformity, sheds rather than houses, of broken plaster and +crazy timbers. But here and there were open places of public reception, +crowded with the lower followers of the puissant chief; and the eye +rested on many idle groups of sturdy swash-bucklers, some half-clad +in armour, some in rude jerkins of leather, before the doors of these +resorts,--as others, like bees about a hive, swarmed in and out with a +perpetual hum. + +The exterior of Warwick House was of a gray but dingy stone, and +presented a half-fortified and formidable appearance. The windows, or +rather loop-holes, towards the street were few, and strongly barred. +The black and massive arch of the gateway yawned between two huge square +towers; and from a yet higher but slender tower on the inner side, the +flag gave the “White Bear and Ragged Staff” to the smoky air. Still, +under the portal as he entered, hung the grate of the portcullis, and +the square court which he saw before him swarmed with the more +immediate retainers of the earl, in scarlet jackets, wrought with +their chieftain’s cognizance. A man of gigantic girth and stature, +who officiated as porter, leaning against the wall under the arch, now +emerged from the shadow, and with sufficient civility demanded the young +visitor’s name and business. On hearing the former, he bowed low as he +doffed his hat, and conducted Marmaduke through the first quadrangle. +The two sides to the right and left were devoted to the offices and +rooms of retainers, of whom no less than six hundred, not to speak of +the domestic and more orderly retinue, attested the state of the Last of +the English Barons on his visits to the capital. Far from being then, as +now, the object of the great to thrust all that belongs to the service +of the house out of sight, it was their pride to strike awe into the +visitor by the extent of accommodation afforded to their followers: some +seated on benches of stone ranged along the walls; some grouped in the +centre of the court; some lying at length upon the two oblong patches of +what had been turf, till worn away by frequent feet,--this domestic +army filled the young Nevile with an admiration far greater than the +gay satins of the knights and nobles who had gathered round the lord of +Montagu and Northumberland at the pastime-ground. + +This assemblage, however, were evidently under a rude discipline of +their own. They were neither noisy nor drunk. They made way with surly +obeisance as the cavalier passed, and closing on his track like some +horde of wild cattle, gazed after him with earnest silence, and then +turned once more to their indolent whispers with each other. + +And now Nevile entered the last side of the quadrangle. The huge hall, +divided from the passage by a screen of stone fretwork, so fine as to +attest the hand of some architect in the reign of Henry III., stretched +to his right; and so vast, in truth, it was, that though more than fifty +persons were variously engaged therein, their number was lost in the +immense space. Of these, at one end of the longer and lower table +beneath the dais, some squires of good dress and mien were engaged at +chess or dice; others were conferring in the gloomy embrasures of +the casements; some walking to and fro, others gathered round the +shovel-board. At the entrance of this hall the porter left Marmaduke, +after exchanging a whisper with a gentleman whose dress eclipsed the +Nevile’s in splendour; and this latter personage, who, though of high +birth, did not disdain to perform the office of chamberlain, or usher, +to the king-like earl, advanced to Marmaduke with a smile, and said,-- + +“My lord expects you, sir, and has appointed this time to receive you, +that you may not be held back from his presence by the crowds that crave +audience in the forenoon. Please to follow me!” This said, the gentleman +slowly preceded the visitor, now and then stopping to exchange a +friendly word with the various parties he passed in his progress; for +the urbanity which Warwick possessed himself, his policy inculcated as +a duty on all who served him. A small door at the other extremity of the +hall admitted into an anteroom, in which some half score pages, the sons +of knights and barons, were gathered round an old warrior, placed +at their head as a sort of tutor, to instruct them in all knightly +accomplishments; and beckoning forth one of these youths from the ring, +the earl’s chamberlain said, with a profound reverence, “Will you be +pleased, my young lord, to conduct your cousin, Master Marmaduke Nevile, +to the earl’s presence?” The young gentleman eyed Marmaduke with a +supercilious glance. + +“Marry!” said he, pertly, “if a man born in the North were to feed all +his cousins, he would soon have a tail as long as my uncle, the stout +earl’s. Come, sir cousin, this way.” And without tarrying even to +give Nevile information of the name and quality of his new-found +relation,--who was no less than Lord Montagu’s son, the sole male +heir to the honours of that mighty family, though now learning the +apprenticeship of chivalry amongst his uncle’s pages,--the boy +passed before Marmaduke with a saunter, that, had they been in plain +Westmoreland, might have cost him a cuff from the stout hand of the +indignant elder cousin. He raised the tapestry at one end of the room, +and ascending a short flight of broad stairs, knocked gently on the +panels of an arched door sunk deep in the walls. + +“Enter!” said a clear, loud voice, and the next moment Marmaduke was in +the presence of the King-maker. + +He heard his guide pronounce his name, and saw him smile maliciously at +the momentary embarrassment the young man displayed, as the boy passed +by Marmaduke, and vanished. The Earl of Warwick was seated near a +door that opened upon an inner court, or rather garden, which gave +communication to the river. The chamber was painted in the style of +Henry III., with huge figures representing the battle of Hastings, +or rather, for there were many separate pieces, the conquest of Saxon +England. Over each head, to enlighten the ignorant, the artist had taken +the precaution to insert a label, which told the name and the subject. +The ceiling was groined, vaulted, and emblazoned with the richest +gilding and colours. The chimneypiece (a modern ornament) rose to the +roof, and represented in bold reliefs, gilt and decorated, the signing +of Magna Charta. The floor was strewed thick with dried rushes and +odorous herbs; the furniture was scanty, but rich. The low-backed +chairs, of which there were but four, carved in ebony, had cushions +of velvet with fringes of massive gold; a small cupboard, or beaufet, +covered with carpetz de cuir (carpets of gilt and painted leather), +of great price, held various quaint and curious ornaments of plate +inwrought with precious stones; and beside this--a singular contrast--on +a plain Gothic table lay the helmet, the gauntlets, and the battle-axe +of the master. Warwick himself, seated before a large, cumbrous desk, +was writing,--but slowly and with pain,--and he lifted his finger as +the Nevile approached, in token of his wish to conclude a task probably +little congenial to his tastes. But Marmaduke was grateful for the +moments afforded him to recover his self-possession, and to examine his +kinsman. + +The earl was in the lusty vigour of his age. His hair, of the deepest +black, was worn short, as if in disdain of the effeminate fashions of +the day; and fretted bare from the temples by the constant and early +friction of his helmet, gave to a forehead naturally lofty yet more +majestic appearance of expanse and height. His complexion, though dark +and sunburned, glowed with rich health. The beard was closely shaven, +and left in all its remarkable beauty the contour of the oval face and +strong jaw,--strong as if clasped in iron. The features were marked and +aquiline, as was common to those of Norman blood. The form spare, but of +prodigious width and depth of chest, the more apparent from the fashion +of the short surcoat, which was thrown back, and left in broad expanse +a placard, not of holiday velvet and satins, but of steel polished as a +mirror, and inlaid with gold. And now as, concluding his task, the earl +rose and motioned Marmaduke to a stool by his side, his great stature, +which, from the length of his limbs, was not so observable when he sat, +actually startled his guest. Tall as Marmaduke was himself, the earl +towered [The faded portrait of Richard Nevile, Earl of Warwick, in the +Rous Roll, preserved at the Herald’s College, does justice, at least, to +the height and majesty of his stature. The portrait of Edward IV. is the +only one in that long series which at all rivals the stately proportions +of the King-maker.] above him,--with his high, majestic, smooth, +unwrinkled forehead,--like some Paladin of the rhyme of poet or +romancer; and, perhaps, not only in this masculine advantage, but in +the rare and harmonious combination of colossal strength with graceful +lightness, a more splendid union of all the outward qualities we are +inclined to give to the heroes of old never dazzled the eye or impressed +the fancy. But even this effect of mere person was subordinate to that +which this eminent nobleman created--upon his inferiors, at least--by +a manner so void of all arrogance, yet of all condescension, so simple, +open, cordial, and hero-like, that Marmaduke Nevile, peculiarly alive +to external impressions, and subdued and fascinated by the earl’s first +word, and that word was “Welcome!” dropped on his knee, and kissing the +hand extended to him, said, “Noble kinsman, in thy service and for +thy sake let me live and die!” Had the young man been prepared by the +subtlest master of courtcraft for this interview, so important to his +fortunes, he could not have advanced a hundredth part so far with the +great earl as he did by that sudden, frank burst of genuine emotion; for +Warwick was extremely sensitive to the admiration he excited,--vain or +proud of it, it matters not which; grateful as a child for love, and +inexorable as a woman for slight or insult: in rude ages, one sex has +often the qualities of the other. + +“Thou hast thy father’s warm heart and hasty thought, Marmaduke,” said +Warwick, raising him; “and now he is gone where, we trust, brave men, +shrived of their sins, look down upon us, who should be thy friend but +Richard Nevile? So--so--yes, let me look at thee. Ha! stout Guy’s honest +face, every line of it: but to the girls, perhaps, comelier, for wanting +a scar or two. Never blush,--thou shalt win the scars yet. So thou hast +a letter from thy father?” + +“It is here, noble lord.” + +“And why,” said the earl, cutting the silk with his dagger--“why hast +thou so long hung back from presenting it? But I need not ask thee. +These uncivil times have made kith and kin doubt worse of each other +than thy delay did of me. Sir Guy’s mark, sure eno’! Brave old man! I +loved him the better for that, like me, the sword was more meet than the +pen for his bold hand.” Here Warwick scanned, with some slowness, the +lines dictated by the dead to the priest; and when he had done, he +laid the letter respectfully on his desk, and bowing his head over it, +muttered to himself,--it might be an Ave for the deceased. “Well,” he +said, reseating himself, and again motioning Marmaduke to follow his +example, “thy father was, in sooth, to blame for the side he took in the +Wars. What son of the Norman could bow knee or vail plume to that shadow +of a king, Henry of Windsor? And for his bloody wife--she knew no more +of an Englishman’s pith and pride than I know of the rhymes and roundels +of old Rene, her father. Guy Nevile--good Guy--many a day in my boyhood +did he teach me how to bear my lance at the crest, and direct my sword +at the mail joints. He was cunning at fence--thy worshipful father--but +I was ever a bad scholar; and my dull arm, to this day, hopes more from +its strength than its craft.” + +“I have heard it said, noble earl, that the stoutest hand can scarcely +lift your battle-axe.” + +“Fables! romaunt!” answered the earl, smiling; “there it lies,--go and +lift it.” + +Marmaduke went to the table, and, though with some difficulty, raised +and swung this formidable weapon. + +“By my halidame, well swung, cousin mine! Its use depends not on the +strength, but the practice. Why, look you now, there is the boy Richard +of Gloucester, who comes not up to thy shoulder, and by dint of custom +each day can wield mace or axe with as much ease as a jester doth his +lathesword. Ah, trust me, Marmaduke, the York House is a princely one; +and if we must have a king, we barons, by stout Saint George, let no +meaner race ever furnish our lieges. But to thyself, Marmaduke--what are +thy views and thy wishes?” + +“To be one of thy following, noble Warwick.” + +“I thank and accept thee, young Nevile; but thou hast heard that I am +about to leave England, and in the mean time thy youth would run danger +without a guide.” The earl paused a moment, and resumed: “My brother of +Montagu showed thee cold countenance; but a word from me will win +thee his grace and favour. What sayest thou, wilt thou be one of his +gentlemen? If so, I will tell thee the qualities a man must have,--a +discreet tongue, a quick eye, the last fashion in hood and shoe-bobbins, +a perfect seat on thy horse, a light touch for the gittern, a voice for +a love-song, and--” + +“I have none of these save the horsemanship, gracious my lord; and if +thou wilt not receive me thyself, I will not burden my Lord of Montagu +and Northumberland.” + +“Hot and quick! No! John of Montagu would not suit thee, nor thou him. +But how to provide for thee till my return I know not.” + +“Dare I not hope, then, to make one of your embassage, noble earl?” + +Warwick bent his brows, and looked at him in surprise. “Of our +embassage! Why, thou art haughty, indeed! Nay, and so a soldier’s son +and a Nevile should be! I blame thee not; but I could not make thee +one of my train, without creating a hundred enemies--to me (but that’s +nothing) and to thee, which were much. Knowest thou not that there is +scarce a gentleman of my train below the state of a peer’s son, and that +I have made, by refusals, malcontents eno’, as it is?--Yet, bold! there +is my learned brother, the Archbishop of York. Knowest thou Latin and +the schools?” + +“‘Fore Heaven, my lord,” said the Nevile, bluntly, “I see already I had +best go back to green Westmoreland, for I am as unfit for his grace the +archbishop as I am for my Lord Montagu.” + +“Well, then,” said the earl, dryly, “since thou hast not yet station +enough for my train, nor glosing for Northumberland, nor wit and lere +for the archbishop, I suppose, my poor youth, I must e’en make you only +a gentleman about the king! It is not a post so sure of quick rising and +full gipsires as one about myself or my brethren, but it will be less +envied, and is good for thy first essay. How goes the clock? Oh, here is +Nick Alwyn’s new horologe. He tells me that the English will soon rival +the Dutch in these baubles. [Clockwork appears to have been introduced +into England in the reign of Edward III., when three Dutch horologers +were invited over from Delft. They must soon have passed into common +use, for Chaucer thus familiarly speaks of them:-- + + “Full sickerer was his crowing in his loge + Than is a clock or any abbey orloge.”] + +The more the pity!--our red-faced yeomen, alas, are fast sinking into +lank-jawed mechanics! We shall find the king in his garden within the +next half-hour. Thou shalt attend me.” + +Marmaduke expressed, with more feeling than eloquence, the thanks he +owed for an offer that, he was about to say, exceeded his hopes; but he +had already, since his departure from Westmoreland, acquired sufficient +wit to think twice of his words. And so eagerly, at that time, did the +youth of the nobility contend for the honour of posts about the person +of Warwick, and even of his brothers, and so strong was the belief that +the earl’s power to make or to mar fortune was all-paramount in England, +that even a place in the king’s household was considered an inferior +appointment to that which made Warwick the immediate patron and +protector. This was more especially the case amongst the more haughty +and ancient gentry since the favour shown by Edward to the relations +of his wife, and his own indifference to the rank and birth of his +associates. Warwick had therefore spoken with truth when he expressed +a comparative pity for the youth, whom he could not better provide for +than by a place about the court of his sovereign! + +The earl then drew from Marmaduke some account of his early training, +his dependence on his brother, his adventures at the archery-ground, his +misadventure with the robbers, and even his sojourn with Warner,--though +Marmaduke was discreetly silent as to the very existence of Sibyll. The +earl, in the mean while, walked to and fro the chamber with a light, +careless stride, every moment pausing to laugh at the frank simplicity +of his kinsman, or to throw in some shrewd remark, which he cast +purposely in the rough Westmoreland dialect; for no man ever attains to +the popularity that rejoiced or accursed the Earl of Warwick, without a +tendency to broad and familiar humour, without a certain commonplace +of character in its shallower and more every-day properties. This +charm--always great in the great--Warwick possessed to perfection; and +in him--such was his native and unaffected majesty of bearing, and +such the splendour that surrounded his name--it never seemed coarse or +unfamiliar, but “everything he did became him best.” Marmaduke had just +brought his narrative to a conclusion, when, after a slight tap at the +door, which Warwick did not hear, two fair young forms bounded joyously +in, and not seeing the stranger, threw themselves upon Warwick’s breast +with the caressing familiarity of infancy. + +“Ah, Father,” said the elder of these two girls, as Warwick’s hand +smoothed her hair fondly, “you promised you would take us in your barge +to see the sports on the river, and now it will be too late.” + +“Make your peace with your young cousins here,” said the earl, turning +to Marmaduke; “you will cost them an hour’s joyaunce. This is my eldest +daughter, Isabel; and this soft-eyed, pale-cheeked damozel--too loyal +for a leaf of the red rose--is the Lady Anne.” + +The two girls had started from their father’s arms at the first address +to Marmaduke, and their countenances had relapsed from their caressing +and childlike expression into all the stately demureness with which +they had been brought up to regard a stranger. Howbeit, this reserve, to +which he was accustomed, awed Marmaduke less than the alternate gayety +and sadness of the wilder Sibyll, and he addressed them with all the +gallantry to the exercise of which he had been reared, concluding his +compliments with a declaration that he would rather forego the advantage +proffered him by the earl’s favour with the king, than foster one +obnoxious and ungracious memory in damozels so fair and honoured. + +A haughty smile flitted for a moment over the proud young face of Isabel +Nevile; but the softer Anne blushed, and drew bashfully behind her +sister. + +As yet these girls, born for the highest and fated to the most wretched +fortunes, were in all the bloom of earliest youth; but the difference +between their characters might be already observable in their mien +and countenance. Isabel; of tall and commanding stature, had some +resemblance to her father, in her aquiline features, rich, dark hair, +and the lustrous brilliancy of her eyes; while Anne, less striking, yet +not less lovely, of smaller size and slighter proportions, bore in her +pale, clear face, her dove-like eyes, and her gentle brow an expression +of yielding meekness not unmixed with melancholy, which, conjoined with +an exquisite symmetry of features, could not fail of exciting interest +where her sister commanded admiration. Not a word, however, from either +did Marmaduke abstract in return for his courtesies, nor did either +he or the earl seem to expect it; for the latter, seating himself and +drawing Anne on his knee, while Isabella walked with stately grace +towards the table that bore her father’s warlike accoutrements, and +played, as it were, unconsciously with the black plume on his black +burgonet, said to Nevile, + +“Well, thou hast seen enough of the Lancastrian raptrils to make thee +true to the Yorkists. I would I could say as much for the king himself, +who is already crowding the court with that venomous faction, in honour +of Dame Elizabeth Gray, born Mistress Woodville, and now Queen of +England. Ha, my proud Isabel, thou wouldst have better filled the throne +that thy father built!” + +And at these words a proud flash broke from the earl’s dark eyes, +betraying even to Marmaduke the secret of perhaps his earliest +alienation from Edward IV. Isabella pouted her rich lip, but said +nothing. “As for thee, Anne,” continued the earl, “it is a pity that +monks cannot marry,--thou wouldst have suited some sober priest better +than a mailed knight. ‘Fore George, I would not ask thee to buckle my +baldrick when the war-steeds were snorting, but I would trust Isabel +with the links of my hauberk.” + +“Nay, Father,” said the low, timid voice of Anne, “if thou wert going to +danger, I could be brave in all that could guard thee!” + +“Why, that’s my girl! kiss me! Thou hast a look of thy mother now,--so +thou hast! and I will not chide thee the next time I hear thee muttering +soft treason in pity of Henry of Windsor.” + +“Is he not to be pitied?--Crown, wife, son, and Earl Warwick’s stout arm +lost--lost!” + +“No!” said Isabel, suddenly; “no, sweet sister Anne, and fie on thee for +the words! He lost all, because he had neither the hand of a knight nor +the heart of a man! For the rest--Margaret of Anjou, or her butchers, +beheaded our father’s father.” + +“And may God and Saint George forget me, when I forget those gray and +gory hairs!” exclaimed the earl; and putting away the Lady Anne somewhat +roughly, he made a stride across the room, and stood by his hearth. “And +yet Edward, the son of Richard of York, who fell by my father’s side--he +forgets, he forgives! And the minions of Rivers the Lancastrian tread +the heels of Richard of Warwick.” + +At this unexpected turn in the conversation, peculiarly unwelcome, as +it may be supposed, to the son of one who had fought on the Lancastrian +side in the very battle referred to, Marmaduke felt somewhat uneasy; and +turning to the Lady Anne, he said, with the gravity of wounded pride, “I +owe more to my lord, your father, than I even wist of,--how much he must +have overlooked to--” + +“Not so!” interrupted Warwick, who overheard him,--“not so; thou +wrongest me! Thy father was shocked at those butcheries; thy father +recoiled from that accursed standard; thy father was of a stock +ancient and noble as my own! But, these Woodvilles!--tush! my passion +overmasters me. We will go to the king,--it is time.” + +Warwick here rang the hand-bell on his table, and on the entrance of his +attendant gentleman, bade him see that the barge was in readiness; then +beckoning to his kinsman, and with a nod to his daughters, he caught up +his plumed cap, and passed at once into the garden. + +“Anne,” said Isabel, when the two girls were alone, “thou hast vexed my +father, and what marvel? If the Lancastrians can be pitied, the Earl of +Warwick must be condemned!” + +“Unkind!” said Anne, shedding tears; “I can pity woe and mischance, +without blaming those whose hard duty it might be to achieve them.” + +“In good sooth cannot I! Thou wouldst pity and pardon till thou leftst +no distinction between foeman and friend, leife and loathing. Be it +mine, like my great father, to love and to hate!” + +“Yet why art thou so attached to the White Rose?” said Anne, stung, if +not to malice, at least to archness. “Thou knowest my father’s nearest +wish was that his eldest daughter might be betrothed to King Edward. +Dost thou not pay good for evil when thou seest no excellence out of the +House of York?” + +“Saucy Anne,” answered Isabel, with a half smile, “I am not raught by +thy shafts, for I was a child for the nurses when King Edward sought a +wife for his love. But were I chafed--as I may be vain enough to know +myself--whom should I blame?--Not the king, but the Lancastrian who +witched him!” + +She paused a moment, and, looking away, added in a low tone, “Didst +thou hear, sister Anne, if the Duke of Clarence visited my father the +forenoon?” + +“Ah, Isabel, Isabel!” + +“Ah, sister Anne, sister Anne! Wilt thou know all my secrets ere I know +them myself?”--and Isabel, with something of her father’s playfulness, +put her hands to Anne’s laughing lips. + +Meanwhile Warwick, after walking musingly a few moments along the +garden, which was formed by plots of sward, bordered with fruit-trees, +and white rose-trees not yet in blossom, turned to his silent kinsman, +and said, “Forgive me, cousin mine, my mannerless burst against thy +brave father’s faction; but when thou hast been a short while at court, +thou wilt see where the sore is. Certes, I love this king!” Here his +dark face lighted up. “Love him as a king,--ay, and as a son! And +who would not love him; brave as his sword, gallant, and winning, and +gracious as the noonday in summer? Besides, I placed him on his throne; +I honour myself in him!” + +The earl’s stature dilated as he spoke the last sentence, and his +hand rested on his dagger hilt. He resumed, with the same daring and +incautious candour that stamped his dauntless, soldier-like nature, “God +hath given me no son. Isabel of Warwick had been a mate for William the +Norman; and my grandson, if heir to his grandsire’s soul, should have +ruled from the throne of England over the realms of Charlemagne! But it +hath pleased Him whom the Christian knight alone bows to without shame, +to order otherwise. So be it. I forgot my just pretensions,--forgot +my blood, and counselled the king to strengthen his throne with the +alliance of Louis XI. He rejected the Princess Bona of Savoy, to marry +widow Elizabeth Gray; I sorrowed for his sake, and forgave the slight to +my counsels. At his prayer I followed the train of his queen, and hushed +the proud hearts of our barons to obeisance. But since then, this Dame +Woodville, whom I queened, if her husband mated, must dispute this +roiaulme with mine and me,--a Nevile, nowadays, must vail his plume to a +Woodville! And not the great barons whom it will suit Edward’s policy +to win from the Lancastrians--not the Exeters and the Somersets--but the +craven varlets and lackeys and dross of the camp--false alike to Henry +and to Edward--are to be fondled into lordships and dandled into power. +Young man, I am speaking hotly--Richard Nevile never lies nor conceals; +but I am speaking to a kinsman, am I not? Thou hearest,--thou wilt not +repeat?” + +“Sooner would I pluck forth my tongue by the roots.” + +“Enough!” returned the earl, with a pleased smile. “When I come from +France, I will speak more to thee. Meanwhile be courteous to all men, +servile to none. Now to the king.” + +So speaking, he shook back his surcoat, drew his cap over his brow, +and passed to the broad stairs, at the foot of which fifty rowers, with +their badges on their shoulders, waited in the huge barge, gilt richly +at prow and stern, and with an awning of silk, wrought with the earl’s +arms and cognizance. As they pushed off, six musicians, placed towards +the helm, began a slow and half Eastern march, which, doubtless, some +crusader of the Temple had brought from the cymbals and trumps of +Palestine. + + + + +CHAPTER II. KING EDWARD THE FOURTH. + +The Tower of London, more consecrated to associations of gloom and blood +than those of gayety and splendour, was, nevertheless, during the reign +of Edward IV., the seat of a gallant and gorgeous court. That king, +from the first to the last so dear to the people of London, made it his +principal residence when in his metropolis; and its ancient halls and +towers were then the scene of many a brawl and galliard. As Warwick’s +barge now approached its huge walls, rising from the river, there was +much that might either animate or awe, according to the mood of the +spectator. The king’s barge, with many lesser craft reserved for the +use of the courtiers, gay with awnings and streamers and painting and +gilding, lay below the wharfs, not far from the gate of St. Thomas, now +called the Traitor’s Gate. On the walk raised above the battlemented +wall of the inner ward, not only paced the sentries, but there dames and +knights were inhaling the noonday breezes, and the gleam of their rich +dresses of cloth-of-gold glanced upon the eye at frequent intervals from +tower to tower. Over the vast round turret, behind the Traitor’s Gate, +now called “The Bloody Tower,” floated cheerily in the light wind the +royal banner. Near the Lion’s Tower, two or three of the keepers of the +menagerie, in the king’s livery, were leading forth, by a strong chain, +the huge white bear that made one of the boasts of the collection, and +was an especial favourite with the king and his brother Richard. The +sheriffs of London were bound to find this grisly minion his chain and +his cord, when he deigned to amuse himself with bathing or “fishing” in +the river; and several boats, filled with gape-mouthed passengers, lay +near the wharf, to witness the diversions of Bruin. These folks set up +a loud shout of--“A Warwick! a Warwick!” “The stout earl, and God +bless him!” as the gorgeous barge shot towards the fortress. The earl +acknowledged their greeting by vailing his plumed cap; and passing the +keepers with a merry allusion to their care of his own badge, and a +friendly compliment to the grunting bear, he stepped ashore, followed +by his kinsman. Now, however, he paused a moment; and a more thoughtful +shade passed over his countenance, as, glancing his eye carelessly aloft +towards the standard of King Edward, he caught sight of the casement in +the neighbouring tower, of the very room in which the sovereign of his +youth, Henry the Sixth, was a prisoner, almost within hearing of the +revels of his successor; then, with a quick stride, he hurried on +through the vast court, and, passing the White Tower, gained the royal +lodge. Here, in the great hall, he left his companion, amidst a group of +squires and gentlemen, to whom he formally presented the Nevile as his +friend and kinsman, and was ushered by the deputy-chamberlain (with an +apology for the absence of his chief, the Lord Hastings, who had gone +abroad to fly his falcon) into the small garden, where Edward was idling +away the interval between the noon and evening meals,--repasts to which +already the young king inclined with that intemperate zest and ardour +which he carried into all his pleasures, and which finally destroyed the +handsomest person and embruted one of the most vigorous intellects of +the age. + +The garden, if bare of flowers, supplied their place by the various +and brilliant-coloured garbs of the living beauties assembled on its +straight walks and smooth sward. Under one of those graceful cloisters, +which were the taste of the day, and had been recently built and gayly +decorated, the earl was stopped in his path by a group of ladies playing +at closheys (ninepins) of ivory; [Narrative of Louis of Bruges, Lord +Grauthuse. Edited by Sir F. Madden, “Archaelogia,” 1836.] and one of +these fair dames, who excelled the rest in her skill, had just bowled +down the central or crowned pin,--the king of the closheys. This lady, +no less a person than Elizabeth, the Queen of England, was then in her +thirty-sixth year,--ten years older than her lord; but the peculiar +fairness and delicacy of her complexion still preserved to her beauty +the aspect and bloom of youth. From a lofty headgear, embroidered with +fleur-de-lis, round which wreathed a light diadem of pearls, her hair, +of the pale yellow considered then the perfection of beauty, flowed so +straight and so shining down her shoulders, almost to the knees, that +it seemed like a mantle of gold. The baudekin stripes (blue and gold) of +her tunic attested her royalty. The blue courtpie of satin was bordered +with ermine, and the sleeves, sitting close to an arm of exquisite +contour, shone with seed pearls. Her features were straight and regular, +yet would have been insipid, but for an expression rather of cunning +than intellect; and the high arch of her eyebrows, with a slight curve +downward of a mouth otherwise beautiful, did not improve the expression, +by an addition of something supercilious and contemptuous, rather than +haughty or majestic. + +“My lord of Warwick,” said Elizabeth, pointing to the fallen closhey, +“what would my enemies say if they heard I had toppled down the king?” + +“They would content themselves with asking which of your Grace’s +brothers you would place in his stead,” answered the hardy earl, unable +to restrain the sarcasm. + +The queen blushed, and glanced round her ladies with an eye which never +looked direct or straight upon its object, but wandered sidelong with +a furtive and stealthy expression, that did much to obtain for her the +popular character of falseness and self-seeking. Her displeasure was yet +more increased by observing the ill-concealed smile which the taunt had +called forth. + +“Nay, my lord,” she said, after a short pause, “we value the peace of +our roiaulme too much for so high an ambition. Were we to make a brother +even the prince of the closheys, we should disappoint the hopes of a +Nevile.” + +The earl disdained pursuing the war of words, and answering coldly, “The +Neviles are more famous for making ingrates than asking favours. I leave +your Highness to the closheys”--turned away, and strode towards the +king, who, at the opposite end of the garden, was reclining on a bench +beside a lady, in whose ear, to judge by her downcast and blushing +cheek, he was breathing no unwelcome whispers. + +“Mort-Dieu!” muttered the earl, who was singularly exempt, himself, from +the amorous follies of the day, and eyed them with so much contempt that +it often obscured his natural downright penetration into character, and +never more than when it led him afterwards to underrate the talents of +Edward IV.,--“Mort-Dieu! if, an hour before the battle of Towton, some +wizard had shown me in his glass this glimpse of the gardens of the +Tower, that giglet for a queen, and that squire of dames for a king, I +had not slain my black destrier (poor Malech!), that I might conquer or +die for Edward Earl of March.” + +“But see!” said the lady, looking up from the enamoured and conquering +eyes of the king, “art thou not ashamed, my lord?--the grim earl comes +to chide thee for thy faithlessness to thy queen, whom he loves so +well.” + +“Pasque-Dieu! as my cousin Louis of France says or swears,” answered +the king, with an evident petulance in his altered voice, “I would that +Warwick could be only worn with one’s armour! I would as lief try to +kiss through my vizor as hear him talk of glory and Towton, and King +John and poor Edward II., because I am not always in mail. Go! leave +us, sweet bonnibel! we must brave the bear alone!” The lady inclined her +head, drew her hood round her face, and striking into the contrary path +from that in which Warwick was slowly striding, gained the group round +the queen, whose apparent freedom from jealousy, the consequence of +cold affections and prudent calculation, made one principal cause of the +empire she held over the powerful mind, but the indolent temper, of the +gay and facile Edward. + +The king rose as Warwick now approached him; and the appearance of these +two eminent persons was in singular contrast. Warwick, though richly and +even gorgeously attired,--nay, with all the care which in that age +was considered the imperative duty a man of station and birth owed to +himself,--held in lofty disdain whatever vagary of custom tended to +cripple the movements or womanize the man. No loose flowing robes, no +shoon half a yard long, no flaunting tawdriness of fringe and aiglet, +characterized the appearance of the baron, who, even in peace, gave his +address a half-martial fashion. + +But Edward, who, in common with all the princes of the House of York, +carried dress to a passion, had not only reintroduced many of the most +effeminate modes in vogue under William the Red King, but added to them +whatever could tend to impart an almost oriental character to the old +Norman garb. His gown (a womanly garment which had greatly superseded, +with men of the highest rank, not only the mantle but the surcoat) +flowed to his heels, trimmed with ermine, and broidered with large +flowers of crimson wrought upon cloth-of-gold. Over this he wore a +tippet of ermine, and a collar or necklace of uncut jewels set in +filigree gold; the nether limbs were, it is true, clad in the more manly +fashion of tight-fitting hosen, but the folds of the gown, as the day +was somewhat fresh, were drawn around so as to conceal the only part of +the dress which really betokened the male sex. To add to this unwarlike +attire, Edward’s locks of a rich golden colour, and perfuming the whole +air with odours, flowed not in curls, but straight to his shoulders, and +the cheek of the fairest lady in his court might have seemed less fair +beside the dazzling clearness of a complexion at once radiant with +health and delicate with youth. Yet, in spite of all this effeminacy, +the appearance of Edward IV. was not effeminate. From this it was +preserved, not only by a stature little less commanding than that of +Warwick himself, and of great strength and breadth of shoulder, but also +by features, beautiful indeed, but pre-eminently masculine,--large +and bold in their outline, and evincing by their expression all the +gallantry and daring characteristic of the hottest soldier, next to +Warwick, and without any exception the ablest captain, of the age. + +“And welcome,--a merry welcome, dear Warwick, and cousin mine,” said +Edward, as Warwick slightly bent his proud knee to his king; “your +brother, Lord Montagu, has but left us. Would that our court had the +same, joyaunce for you as for him.” + +“Dear and honoured my liege,” answered Warwick, his brow smoothing at +once,--for his affectionate though hasty and irritable nature was +rarely proof against the kind voice and winning smile of his young +sovereign,--“could I ever serve you at the court as I can with the +people, you would not complain that John of Montagu was a better +courtier than Richard of Warwick. But each to his calling. I depart +to-morrow for Calais, and thence to King Louis. And, surely, never envoy +or delegate had better chance to be welcome than one empowered to treat +of an alliance that will bestow on a prince deserving, I trust, his +fortunes, the sister of the bravest sovereign in Christian Europe.” + +“Now, out on thy flattery, my cousin; though I must needs own I provoked +it by my complaint of thy courtiership. But thou hast learned only half +thy business, good Warwick; and it is well Margaret did not hear thee. +Is not the prince of France more to be envied for winning a fair lady +than having a fortunate soldier for his brother-in-law?” + +“My liege,” replied Warwick, smiling, “thou knowest I am a poor judge of +a lady’s fair cheek, though indifferently well skilled as to the valour +of a warrior’s stout arm. Algates, the Lady Margaret is indeed worthy in +her excellent beauties to become the mother of brave men.” + +“And that is all we can wring from thy stern lip, man of iron? Well, +that must content us. But to more serious matters.” And the king, +leaning his hand on the earl’s arm, and walking with him slowly to and +fro the terrace, continued: “Knowest thou not, Warwick, that this French +alliance, to which thou hast induced us, displeases sorely our good +traders of London?” + +“Mort-Dieu!” returned Warwick, bluntly, “and what business have the +flat-caps with the marriage of a king’s sister? Is it for them to +breathe garlic on the alliances of Bourbons and Plantagenets? Faugh! +You have spoiled them, good my lord king,--you have spoiled them by your +condescensions. Henry IV. staled not his majesty to consultations with +the mayor of his city. Henry V. gave the knighthood of the hath to the +heroes of Agincourt, not to the vendors of cloth and spices.” + +“Ah, my poor knights of the Bath!” said Edward, good-humouredly, “wilt +thou never let that sore scar quietly over? Ownest thou not that the men +had their merits?” + +“What the merits were, I weet not,” answered the earl,--“unless, +peradventure, their wives were comely and young.” + +“Thou wrongest me, Warwick,” said the king, carelessly; “Dame Cook was +awry, Dame Philips a grandmother, Dame Jocelyn had lost her front teeth, +and Dame Waer saw seven ways at once! But thou forgettest, man, the +occasion of those honours,--the eve before Elizabeth was crowned,--and +it was policy to make the city of London have a share in her honours. +As to the rest,” pursued the king, earnestly and with dignity, “I and my +House have owed much to London. When the peers of England, save thee and +thy friends, stood aloof from my cause, London was ever loyal and true. +Thou seest not, my poor Warwick, that these burgesses are growing up +into power by the decline of the orders above them. And if the sword +is the monarch’s appeal for his right, he must look to contented and +honoured industry for his buckler in peace. This is policy,--policy, +Warwick; and Louis XI. will tell thee the same truths, harsh though they +grate in a warrior’s ear.” + +The earl bowed his haughty head, and answered shortly, but with a +touching grace, “Be it ever thine, noble king, to rule as it likes thee, +and mine to defend with my blood even what I approve not with my brain! +But if thou doubtest the wisdom of this alliance, it is not too late +yet. Let me dismiss my following, and cross not the seas. Unless thy +heart is with the marriage, the ties I would form are threads and +cobwebs.” + +“Nay,” returned Edward, irresolutely: “in these great state matters +thy wit is elder than mine; but men do say the Count of Charolois is a +mighty lord; and the alliance with Burgundy will be more profitable to +staple and mart.” + +“Then, in God’s name, so conclude it!” said the earl, hastily, but with +so dark a fire in his eyes that Edward, who was observing him, changed +countenance; “only ask me not, my liege, to advance such a marriage. The +Count of Charolois knows me as his foe--shame were mine did I shun to +say where I love, where I hate. That proud dullard once slighted me when +we met at his father’s court, and the wish next to my heart is to pay +back my affront with my battle-axe. Give thy sister to the heir of +Burgundy, and forgive me if I depart to my castle of Middleham.” + +Edward, stung by the sharpness of this reply, was about to answer as +became his majesty of king, when Warwick more deliberately resumed: “Yet +think well; Henry of Windsor is thy prisoner, but his cause lives in +Margaret and his son. There is but one power in Europe that can threaten +thee with aid to the Lancastrians; that power is France. Make Louis thy +friend and ally, and thou givest peace to thy life and thy lineage; make +Louis thy foe, and count on plots and stratagems and treason, uneasy +days and sleepless nights. Already thou hast lost one occasion to secure +that wiliest and most restless of princes, in rejecting the hand of the +Princess Bona. Happily, this loss now can be retrieved. But alliance +with Burgundy is war with France,--war more deadly because Louis is +a man who declares it not; a war carried on by intrigue and bribe, by +spies and minions, till some disaffection ripens the hour when young +Edward of Lancaster shall land on thy coasts, with the Oriflamme and +the Red Rose, with French soldiers and English malcontents. Wouldst thou +look to Burgundy for help?--Burgundy will have enough to guard its own +frontiers from the gripe of Louis the Sleepless. Edward, my king, my +pupil in arms, Edward, my loved, my honoured liege, forgive Richard +Nevile his bluntness, and let not his faults stand in bar of his +counsels.” + +“You are right, as you are ever, safeguard of England, and pillar of my +state,” said the king, frankly, and pressing the arm he still held. “Go +to France and settle all as thou wilt.” + +Warwick bent low and kissed the hand of his sovereign. “And,” said +he, with a slight, but a sad smile, “when I am gone, my liege will not +repent, will not misthink me, will not listen to my foes, nor suffer +merchant and mayor to sigh him back to the mechanics of Flanders?” + +“Warwick, thou deemest ill of thy king’s kingliness.” + +“Not of thy kingliness; but that same gracious quality of yielding to +counsel which bows this proud nature to submission often makes me fear +for thy firmness, when thy will is, won through thy heart. And now, good +my liege, forgive me one sentence more. Heaven forefend that I should +stand in the way of thy princely favours. A king’s countenance is a sun +that should shine on all. But bethink thee well, the barons of England +are a stubborn and haughty race; chafe not thy most puissant peers by +too cold a neglect of their past services, and too lavish a largess to +new men.” + +“Thou aimest at Elizabeth’s kin,” interrupted Edward, withdrawing his +hand from his minister’s arm, “and I tell thee once for all times, that +I would rather sink again to mine earldom of March, with a subject’s +right to honour where he loves, than wear crown and wield sceptre +without a king’s unquestioned prerogative to ennoble the line and blood +of one he has deemed worthy of his throne. As for the barons, with whose +wrath thou threatenest me, I banish them not. If they go in gloom from +my court, why, let them chafe themselves sleek again.” + +“King Edward,” said Warwick, moodily, “tried services merit not this +contempt. It is not as the kith of the queen that I regret to see lands +and honours lavished upon men rooted so newly to the soil that the first +blast of the war-trump will scatter their greenness to the winds; but +what sorrows me is to mark those who have fought against thee preferred +to the stout loyalty that braved block and field for thy cause. Look +round thy court; where are the men of bloody York and victorious +Towton?--unrequited, sullen in their strongholds, begirt with their +yeomen and retainers. Thou standest--thou, the heir of York--almost +alone (save where the Neviles--whom one day thy court will seek also +to disgrace and discard--vex their old comrades in arms by their +defection)--thou standest almost alone among the favourites and minions +of Lancaster. Is there no danger in proving to men that to have served +thee is discredit, to have warred against thee is guerdon and grace?” + +“Enough of this, cousin,” replied the king, with an effort which +preserved his firmness. “On this head we cannot agree. Take what else +thou wilt of royalty,--make treaties and contract marriages, establish +peace or proclaim war; but trench not on my sweetest prerogative to give +and to forgive. And now, wilt thou tarry and sup with us? The ladies +grow impatient of a commune that detains from their eyes the stateliest +knight since the Round Table was chopped into fire-wood.” + +“No, my liege,” said Warwick, whom flattery of this sort rather angered +than soothed, “I have much yet to prepare. I leave your Highness to +fairer homage and more witching counsels than mine.” So saying, he +kissed the king’s hand, and was retiring, when he remembered his +kinsman, whose humble interests in the midst of more exciting topics +he had hitherto forgotten, and added, “May I crave, since you are so +merciful to the Lancastrians, one grace for my namesake,--a Nevile whose +father repented the side he espoused, a son of Sir Guy of Arsdale?” + +“Ah,” said the king, smiling maliciously, “it pleaseth us much to find +that it is easier to the warm heart of our cousin Warwick to preach +sententiaries of sternness to his king than to enforce the same by his +own practice!” + +“You misthink me, sire. I ask not that Marmaduke Nevile should supplant +his superiors and elders; I ask not that he should be made baron and +peer; I ask only that, as a young gentleman who hath taken no part +himself in the wars, and whose father repented his error, your Grace +should strengthen your following by an ancient name and a faithful +servant. But I should have remembered me that his name of Nevile would +have procured him a taunt in the place of advancement.” + +“Saw man ever so froward a temper?” cried Edward, not without reason. +“Why, Warwick, thou art as shrewish to a jest as a woman to advice. Thy +kinsman’s fortunes shall be my care. Thou sayest thou hast enemies,--I +weet not who they be. But to show what I think of them, I make thy +namesake and client a gentleman of my chamber. When Warwick is false to +Edward, let him think that Warwick’s kinsman wears a dagger within reach +of the king’s heart day and night.” + +This speech was made with so noble and touching a kindness of voice and +manner, that the earl, thoroughly subdued, looked at his sovereign with +moistened eyes, and only trusting himself to say,--“Edward, thou art +king, knight, gentleman, and soldier; and I verily trow that I love thee +best when my petulant zeal makes me anger thee most,”--turned away with +evident emotion, and passing the queen and her ladies with a lowlier +homage than that with which he had before greeted them, left the garden. +Edward’s eye followed him musingly. The frank expression of his face +vanished, and with the deep breath of a man who is throwing a weight +from his heart, he muttered,-- + +“He loves me,--yes; but will suffer no one else to love me! This must +end some day. I am weary of the bondage.” And sauntering towards the +ladies, he listened in silence, but not apparently in displeasure, to +his queen’s sharp sayings on the imperious mood and irritable temper of +the iron-handed builder of his throne. + + + + +CHAPTER III. THE ANTECHAMBER. + +As Warwick passed the door that led from the garden, he brushed by a +young man, the baudekin stripes of whose vest announced his relationship +to the king, and who, though far less majestic than Edward, possessed +sufficient of family likeness to pass for a very handsome and comely +person; but his countenance wanted the open and fearless expression +which gave that of the king so masculine and heroic a character. The +features were smaller, and less clearly cut, and to a physiognomical +observer there was much that was weak and irresolute in the light blue +eyes and the smiling lips which never closed firmly over the teeth. He +did not wear the long gown then so much in vogue, but his light figure +was displayed to advantage by a vest, fitting it exactly, descending +half-way down the thigh, and trimmed at the border and the collar with +ermine. The sleeves of the doublet were slit, so as to show the white +lawn beneath, and adorned with aiglets and knots of gold. + +Over the left arm hung a rich jacket of furs and velvet, something +like that adopted by the modern hussar. His hat, or cap, was high and +tiara-like, with a single white plume, and the ribbon of the Garter +bound his knee. Though the dress of this personage was thus far less +effeminate than Edward’s, the effect of his appearance was infinitely +more so,--partly, perhaps, from a less muscular frame, and partly +from his extreme youth; for George Duke of Clarence was then, though +initiated not only in the gayeties, but all the intrigues of the court, +only in his eighteenth year. Laying his hand, every finger of which +sparkled with jewels, on the earl’s shoulder--“Hold!” said the young +prince, in a whisper, “a word in thy ear, noble Warwick!” + +The earl, who, next to Edward, loved Clarence the most of his princely +House, and who always found the latter as docile as the other (when +humour or affection seized him) was intractable, relaxed into a familiar +smile at the duke’s greeting, and suffered the young prince to draw him +aside from the groups of courtiers with whom the chamber was filled, to +the leaning-places (as they were called) of a large mullion window. +In the mean while, as they thus conferred, the courtiers interchanged +looks, and many an eye of fear and hate was directed towards the stately +form of the earl. For these courtiers were composed principally of the +kindred or friends of the queen, and though they dared not openly +evince the malice with which they retorted Warwick’s lofty scorn and +undisguised resentment at their new fortunes, they ceased not to hope +for his speedy humiliation and disgrace, reeking little what storm might +rend the empire, so that it uprooted the giant oak, which still in some +measure shaded their sunlight and checked their growth. True, however, +that amongst these were mingled, though rarely, men of a hardier stamp +and nobler birth,--some few of the veteran friends of the king’s great +father; and these, keeping sternly and loftily aloof from the herd, +regarded Warwick with the same almost reverential and yet affectionate +admiration which he inspired amongst the yeomen, peasants, and +mechanics,--for in that growing but quiet struggle of the burgesses, as +it will often happen in more civilized times, the great Aristocracy and +the Populace were much united in affection, though with very different +objects; and the Middle and Trading Class, with whom the earl’s desire +for French alliances and disdain of commerce had much weakened his +popularity, alone shared not the enthusiasm of their countrymen for the +lion-hearted minister. + +Nevertheless, it must here be owned that the rise of Elizabeth’s kindred +introduced a far more intellectual, accomplished, and literary race into +court favour than had for many generations flourished in so uncongenial +a soil: and in this ante-chamber feud, the pride of education and mind +retaliated with juster sarcasm the pride of birth and sinews. + +Amongst those opposed to the earl, and fit in all qualities to be the +head of the new movement,--if the expressive modern word be allowed +us,--stood at that moment in the very centre of the chamber Anthony +Woodville, in right of the rich heiress he had married the Lord Scales. +As, when some hostile and formidable foe enters the meads where the +flock grazes, the gazing herd gather slowly round their leader, +so grouped the queen’s faction slowly, and by degrees, round this +accomplished nobleman, at the prolonged sojourn of Warwick. + +“Gramercy!” said the Lord Scales, in a somewhat affected intonation +of voice, “the conjunction of the bear and the young lion is a parlous +omen, for the which I could much desire we had a wise astrologer’s +reading.” + +“It is said,” observed one of the courtiers, “that the Duke of Clarence +much affects either the lands or the person of the Lady Isabel.” + +“A passably fair damozel,” returned Anthony, “though a thought or so +too marked and high in her lineaments, and wholly unlettered, no doubt; +which were a pity, for George of Clarence has some pretty taste in the +arts and poesies. But as Occleve hath it-- + + ‘Gold, silver, jewel, cloth, beddyng, array,’ + +would make gentle George amorous of a worse-featured face than +high-nosed Isabel; ‘strange to spell or rede,’ as I would wager my best +destrier to a tailor’s hobby, the damozel surely is.” + +“Notest thou yon gaudy popinjay?” whispered the Lord of St. John to one +of his Towton comrades, as, leaning against the wall, they overheard the +sarcasms of Anthony, and the laugh of the courtiers, who glassed their +faces and moods to his. “Is the time so out of joint that Master Anthony +Woodville can vent his scurrile japes on the heiress of Salisbury and +Warwick in the king’s chamber?” + +“And prate of spelling and reading as if they were the cardinal +virtues?” returned his sullen companion. “By my halidame, I have two +fair daughters at home who will lack husbands, I trow, for they can +only spin and be chaste,--two maidenly gifts out of bloom with the White +Rose.” + +In the mean while, unwitting, or contemptuous, of the attention they +excited, Warwick and Clarence continued yet more earnestly to confer. + +“No, George, no,” said the earl, who, as the descendant of John of +Gaunt, and of kin to the king’s blood, maintained, in private, +a father’s familiarity with the princes of York, though on state +occasions, and when in the hearing of others, he sedulously marked his +deference for their rank--“no, George, calm and steady thy hot mettle, +for thy brother’s and England’s sake. I grieve as much as thou to hear +that the queen does not spare even thee in her froward and unwomanly +peevishness. But there is a glamour in this, believe me, that must melt +away soon or late, and our kingly Edward recover his senses.” + +“Glamour!” said Clarence; “thinkest thou, indeed, that her mother, +Jacquetta, has bewitched the king? One word of thy belief in such +spells, spread abroad amongst the people, would soon raise the same +storm that blew Eleanor Cobham from Duke Humphrey’s bed, along London +streets in her penance-shift.” + +“Troth,” said the earl, indifferently, “I leave such grave questions as +these to prelate and priest; the glamour I spoke of is that of a fair +face over a wanton heart; and Edward is not so steady a lover that this +should never wear out.” + +“It amates me much, noble cousin, that thou leavest the court in this +juncture. The queen’s heart is with Burgundy, the city’s hate is with +France; and when once thou art gone, I fear that the king will be teased +into mating my sister with the Count of Charolois.” + +“Ho!” exclaimed Warwick, with an oath so loud that it rung through the +chamber, and startled every ear that heard it. Then, perceiving his +indiscretion, he lowered his tone into a deep and hollow whisper, and +griped the prince’s arm almost fiercely as he spoke. + +“Could Edward so dishonour my embassy, so palter and juggle with my +faith, so flout me in the eyes of Christendom, I would--I would--” he +paused, and relaxed his hold of the duke, and added, with an altered +voice--“I would leave his wife and his lemans, and yon things of silk, +whom he makes peers (that is easy) but cannot make men, to guard his +throne from the grandson of Henry V. But thy fears, thy zeal, thy love +for me, dearest prince and cousin, make thee misthink Edward’s kingly +honour and knightly faith. I go with the sure knowledge that by +alliance with France I shut the House of Lancaster from all hope of this +roiaulme.” + +“Hadst thou not better, at least, see my sister Margaret? She has a high +spirit, and she thinks thou mightest, at least, woo her assent, and tell +her of the good gifts of her lord to be!” + +“Are the daughters of York spoiled to this by the manners and guise of +a court, in which beshrew me if I well know which the woman and whom +the man? Is it not enough to give peace to broad England, root to +her brother’s stem? Is it not enough to wed the son of a king, the +descendant of Charlemagne and Saint Louis? Must I go bonnet in hand and +simper forth the sleek personals of the choice of her kith and House; +swear the bridegroom’s side-locks are as long as King Edward’s, and +that he bows with the grace of Master Anthony Woodville? Tell her this +thyself, gentle Clarence, if thou wilt: all Warwick could say would but +anger her ear, if she be the maid thou bespeakest her.” + +The Duke of Clarence hesitated a moment, and then, colouring slightly, +said, “If, then, the daughter’s hand be the gift of her kith alone, +shall I have thy favour when the Lady Isabel--” + +“George,” interrupted Warwick, with a fond and paternal smile, “when we +have made England safe, there is nothing the son of Richard of York can +ask of Warwick in vain. Alas!” he added mournfully, “thy father and mine +were united in the same murtherous death, and I think they will smile +down on us from their seats in heaven when a happier generation cements +that bloody union with a marriage bond!” + +Without waiting for further parlance, the earl turned suddenly away, +threw his cap on his towering head, and strode right through the centre +of the whispering courtiers, who shrunk, louting low, from his haughty +path, to break into a hubbub of angry exclamations or sarcastic jests +at his unmannerly bearing, as his black plume disappeared in the arch of +the vaulted door. + +While such the scene in the interior chambers of the palace, Marmaduke, +with the frank simpleness which belonged to his youth and training, had +already won much favour and popularity, and he was laughing loud with a +knot of young men by the shovel-board when Warwick re-entered. The earl, +though so disliked by the courtiers more immediately about the person +of the king, was still the favourite of the less elevated knights and +gentry who formed the subordinate household and retainers; and with +these, indeed, his manner, so proud and arrogant to his foes and rivals, +relapsed at once into the ease of the manly and idolized chief. He was +pleased to see the way made by his young namesake, and lifting his cap, +as he nodded to the group and leaned his arm upon Marmaduke’s shoulder, +he said, “Thanks, and hearty thanks, to you, knights and gentles, for +your courteous reception of an old friend’s young son. I have our king’s +most gracious permission to see him enrolled one of the court you grace. +Ah, Master Falconer, and how does thy worthy uncle?--braver knight never +trod. What young gentleman is yonder?--a new face and a manly one; by +your favour, present him. The son of a Savile! Sir, on my return, be +not the only Savile who shuns our table of Warwick Court. Master Dacres, +commend me to the lady, your mother; she and I have danced many a +measure together in the old time,--we all live again in our children. +Good den to you, sirs. Marmaduke, follow me to the office,--you lodge +in the palace. You are gentleman to the most gracious and, if Warwick +lives, to the most puissant of Europe’s sovereigns. I shall see Montagu +at home; he shall instruct thee in thy duties, and requite thee for all +discourtesies on the archery-ground.” + + + + +BOOK III. IN WHICH THE HISTORY PASSES FROM THE KING’S COURT TO THE +STUDENT’S CELL, AND RELATES THE PERILS THAT BEFELL A PHILOSOPHER FOR +MEDDLING WITH THE AFFAIRS OF THE WORLD. + + + + +CHAPTER I. THE SOLITARY SAGE AND THE SOLITARY MAID. + +While such the entrance of Marmaduke Nevile into a court, that if far +less intellectual and refined than those of later days, was yet more +calculated to dazzle the fancy, to sharpen the wit, and to charm the +senses,--for round the throne of Edward IV. chivalry was magnificent, +intrigue restless, and pleasure ever on the wing,--Sibyll had ample +leisure in her solitary home to muse over the incidents that had +preceded the departure of the young guest. Though she had rejected +Marmaduke’s proffered love, his tone, so suddenly altered, his abrupt, +broken words and confusion, his farewell, so soon succeeding his +passionate declaration, could not fail to wound that pride of woman +which never sleeps till modesty is gone. But this made the least cause +of the profound humiliation which bowed down her spirit. The meaning +taunt conveyed in the rhyme of the tymbesteres pierced her to the quick; +the calm, indifferent smile of the stranger, as he regarded her, the +beauty of the dame he attended, woke mingled and contrary feelings, but +those of jealousy were perhaps the keenest: and in the midst of all she +started to ask herself if indeed she had suffered her vain thoughts to +dwell too tenderly upon one from whom the vast inequalities of human +life must divide her evermore. What to her was his indifference? +Nothing,--yet had she given worlds to banish that careless smile from +her remembrance. + +Shrinking at last from the tyranny of thoughts till of late unknown, her +eye rested upon the gipsire which Alwyn had sent her by the old servant. +The sight restored to her the holy recollection of her father, the sweet +joy of having ministered to his wants. She put up the little treasure, +intending to devote it all to Warner; and after bathing her heavy eyes, +that no sorrow of hers might afflict the student, she passed with a +listless step into her father’s chamber. + +There is, to the quick and mercurial spirits of the young, something of +marvellous and preternatural in that life within life, which the strong +passion of science and genius forms and feeds,--that passion so much +stronger than love, and so much more self-dependent; which asks no +sympathy, leans on no kindred heart; which lives alone in its works and +fancies, like a god amidst his creations. + +The philosopher, too, had experienced a great affliction since they met +last. In the pride of his heart he had designed to show Marmaduke the +mystic operations of his model, which had seemed that morning to open +into life; and when the young man was gone, and he made the experiment +alone, alas! he found that new progress but involved him in new +difficulties. He had gained the first steps in the gigantic creation +of modern days, and he was met by the obstacle that baffled so long the +great modern sage. There was the cylinder, there the boiler; yet, work +as he would, the steam failed to keep the cylinder at work. And now, +patiently as the spider re-weaves the broken web, his untiring ardour +was bent upon constructing a new cylinder of other materials. “Strange,” + he said to himself, “that the heat of the mover aids not the movement;” + and so, blundering near the truth, he laboured on. + +Sibyll, meanwhile, seated herself abstractedly on a heap of fagots piled +in the corner, and seemed busy in framing characters on the dusty floor +with the point of her tiny slipper. So fresh and fair and young she +seemed, in that murky atmosphere, that strange scene, and beside that +worn man, that it might have seemed to a poet as if the youngest of the +Graces were come to visit Mulciber at his forge. + +The man pursued his work, the girl renewed her dreams, the dark evening +hour gradually stealing over both. The silence was unbroken, for the +forge and the model were now at rest, save by the grating of Adam’s +file upon the metal, or by some ejaculation of complacency now and +then vented by the enthusiast. So, apart from the many-noised, gaudy, +babbling world without, even in the midst of that bloody, turbulent, and +semi-barbarous time, went on (the one neglected and unknown, the other +loathed and hated) the two movers of the ALL that continues the airy +life of the Beautiful from age to age,--the Woman’s dreaming Fancy and +the Man’s active Genius. + + + + +CHAPTER II. MASTER ADAM WARNER GROWS A MISER, AND BEHAVES SHAMEFULLY. + +For two or three days nothing disturbed the outward monotony of the +recluse’s household. Apparently all had settled back as before the +advent of the young cavalier. But Sibyll’s voice was not heard singing, +as of old, when she passed the stairs to her father’s room. She sat with +him in his work no less frequently and regularly than before; but +her childish spirits no longer broke forth in idle talk or petulant +movements, vexing the good man from his absorption and his toils. +The little cares and anxieties, which had formerly made up so much of +Sibyll’s day by forethought of provision for the morrow, were suspended; +for the money transmitted to her by Alwyn in return for the emblazoned +manuscripts was sufficient to supply their modest wants for months to +come. Adam, more and more engrossed in his labours, did not appear to +perceive the daintier plenty of his board, nor the purchase of some +small comforts unknown for years. He only said one morning, “It is +strange, girl, that as that gathers in life (and he pointed to the +model), it seems already to provide, to my fantasy, the luxuries it will +one day give to us all in truth. Methought my very bed last night seemed +wondrous easy, and the coverings were warmer, for I woke not with the +cold.” + +“Ah,” thought the sweet daughter, smiling through moist eyes, “while +my cares can smooth thy barren path through life, why should I cark and +pine?” + +Their solitude was now occasionally broken in the evenings by the visits +of Nicholas Alwyn. The young goldsmith was himself not ignorant of the +simpler mathematics; he had some talent for invention, and took pleasure +in the construction of horologes, though, properly speaking, not a +part of his trade. His excuse for his visits was the wish to profit by +Warner’s mechanical knowledge; but the student was so rapt in his +own pursuits, that he gave but little instruction to his visitor. +Nevertheless Alwyn was satisfied, for he saw Sibyll. He saw her in the +most attractive phase of her character,--the loving, patient, devoted +daughter; and the view of her household virtues affected more and more +his honest English heart. But, ever awkward and embarrassed, he gave +no vent to his feelings. To Sibyll he spoke little, and with formal +constraint; and the girl, unconscious of her conquest, was little less +indifferent to his visits than her abstracted father. + +But all at once Adam woke to a sense of the change that had taken place; +all at once he caught scent of gold, for his works were brought to a +pause for want of some finer and more costly materials than the coins +in his own possession (the remnant of Marmaduke’s gift) enabled him to +purchase. He had stolen out at dusk, unknown to Sibyll, and lavished +the whole upon the model; but in vain! The model in itself was, indeed, +completed; his invention had mastered the difficulty that it had +encountered. But Adam had complicated the contrivance by adding to it +experimental proofs of the agency it was intended to exercise. It was +necessary in that age, if he were to convince others, to show more +than the principle of his engine,--he must show also something of its +effects; turn a mill without wind or water, or set in motion some mimic +vehicle without other force than that the contrivance itself supplied. +And here, at every step, new obstacles arose. It was the misfortune +to science in those days, not only that all books and mathematical +instruments were enormously dear, but that the students, still +struggling into light, through the glorious delusions of alchemy and +mysticism, imagined that, even in simple practical operations, there +were peculiar virtues in virgin gold and certain precious stones. A link +in the process upon which Adam was engaged failed him; his ingenuity was +baffled, his work stood still; and in poring again and again over the +learned manuscripts--alas! now lost--in which certain German doctors +had sought to explain the pregnant hints of Roger Bacon, he found +it inculcated that the axle of a certain wheel must be composed of a +diamond. Now, in truth, it so happened that Adam’s contrivance, which +(even without the appliances which were added in illustration of the +theory) was infinitely more complicated than modern research has found +necessary, did not even require the wheel in question, much less the +absent diamond; it happened, also, that his understanding, which, though +so obtuse in common life, was in these matters astonishingly clear, +could not trace any mathematical operations by which the diamond axle +would in the least correct the difficulty that had suddenly started up; +and yet the accursed diamond began to haunt him,--the German authority +was so positive on the point, and that authority had in many respects +been accurate. Nor was this all,--the diamond was to be no vulgar +diamond; it was to be endowed, by talismanic skill, with certain +properties and virtues; it was to be for a certain number of hours +exposed to the rays of the full moon; it was to be washed in a primitive +and wondrous elixir, the making of which consumed no little of the +finest gold. This diamond was to be to the machine what the soul is to +the body,--a glorious, all-pervading, mysterious principle of activity +and life. Such were the dreams that obscured the cradle of infant +science! And Adam, with all his reasoning powers, big lore in the hard +truths of mathematics, was but one of the giant children of the dawn. +The magnificent phrases and solemn promises of the mystic Germans got +firm hold of his fancy. Night and day, waking or sleeping, the diamond, +basking in the silence of the full moon, sparkled before his eyes. +Meanwhile all was at a stand. In the very last steps of his discovery he +was arrested. Then suddenly looking round for vulgar moneys to purchase +the precious gem, and the materials for the soluble elixir, he saw that +MONEY had been at work around him,--that he had been sleeping softly +and faring sumptuously. He was seized with a divine rage. How had Sibyll +dared to secrete from him this hoard; how presumed to waste upon +the base body what might have so profited the eternal mind? In his +relentless ardour, in his sublime devotion and loyalty to his abstract +idea, there was a devouring cruelty, of which this meek and gentle +scholar was wholly unconscious. The grim iron model, like a Moloch, +ate up all things,--health, life, love; and its jaws now opened for +his child. He rose from his bed,--it was daybreak,--he threw on his +dressing-robe, he strode into his daughter’s room; the gray twilight +came through the comfortless, curtainless casement, deep sunk into the +wall. Adam did not pause to notice that the poor child, though she had +provoked his anger by refitting his dismal chamber, had spent nothing in +giving a less rugged frown to her own. + +The scanty worm-worn furniture, the wretched pallet, the poor attire +folded decently beside,--nothing save that inexpressible purity and +cleanliness which, in the lowliest hovel, a pure and maiden mind gathers +round it; nothing to distinguish the room of her whose childhood had +passed in courts from the but of the meanest daughter of drudgery and +toil! No,--he who had lavished the fortunes of his father and big child +into the grave of his idea--no--he saw nothing of this self-forgetful +penury--the diamond danced before him! He approached the bed; and oh! +the contrast of that dreary room and peasant pallet to the delicate, +pure, enchanting loveliness of the sleeping inmate. The scanty covering +left partially exposed the snow-white neck and rounded shoulder; the +face was pillowed upon the arm, in an infantine grace; the face was +slightly flushed, and the fresh red lips parted into a smile,--for in +her sleep the virgin dreamed,--a happy dream! It was a sight to have +touched a father’s heart, to have stopped his footstep, and hushed his +breath into prayer. And call not Adam hard--unnatural--that he was not +then, as men far more harsh than he--for the father at that moment was +not in his breast, the human man was gone--he himself, like his model, +was a machine of iron!--his life was his one idea! + +“Wake, child, wake!” he said, in a loud but hollow voice. “Where is the +gold thou hast hidden from me? Wake! confess!” + +Roused from her gracious dreams thus savagely, Sibyll started, and saw +the eager, darkened face of her father. Its expression was peculiar +and undefinable, for it was not threatening, angry, stern; there was a +vacancy in the eyes, a strain in the features, and yet a wild, intense +animation lighting and pervading all,--it was as the face of one walking +in his sleep, and, at the first confusion of waking, Sibyll thought +indeed that such was her father’s state. But the impatience with which +he shook the arm he grasped, and repeated, as he opened convulsively +his other hand, “The gold, Sibyll, the gold! Why didst thou hide it +from me?” speedily convinced her that her father’s mind was under the +influence of the prevailing malady that made all its weakness and all +its strength. + +“My poor father!” she said pityingly, “wilt thou not leave thyself the +means whereby to keep strength and health for thine high hopes? Ah, +Father, thy Sibyll only hoarded her poor gains for thee!” + +“The gold!” said Adam, mechanically, but in a softer voice,--“all--all +thou hast! How didst thou get it,--how?” + +“By the labours of these hands. Ah, do not frown on me!” + +“Thou--the child of knightly fathers--thou labour!” said Adam, an +instinct of his former state of gentle-born and high-hearted youth +flashing from his eyes. “It was wrong in thee!” + +“Dost thou not labour too?” + +“Ay, but for the world. Well, the gold!” + +Sibyll rose, and modestly throwing over her form the old mantle which +lay on the pallet, passed to a corner of the room, and opening a chest, +took from it the gipsire, and held it out to her father. + +“If it please thee, dear and honoured sir, so be it; and Heaven prosper +it in thy hands!” + +Before Adam’s clutch could close on the gipsire, a rude hand was laid +on his shoulder, the gipsire was snatched from Sibyll, and the gaunt, +half-clad form of old Madge interposed between the two. + +“Eh, sir!” she said, in her shrill, cracked tone, “I thought when I +heard your door open, and your step hurrying down, you were after no +good deeds. Fie, master, fie! I have clung to you when all reviled, and +when starvation within and foul words without made all my hire; for I +ever thought you a good and mild man, though little better than stark +wode. But, augh! to rob your child thus, to leave her to starve and +pine! We old folks are used to it. Look round, look round! I remember +this chamber, when ye first came to your father’s hall. Saints of +heaven! There stood the brave bed all rustling with damask of silk; on +those stone walls once hung fine arras of the Flemings,--a marriage gift +to my lady from Queen Margaret, and a mighty show to see, and good for +the soul’s comforts, with Bible stories wrought on it. Eh, sir! don’t +you call to mind your namesake, Master Adam, in his brave scarlet hosen, +and Madam Eve, in her bonny blue kirtle and laced courtpie? and now--now +look round, I say, and see what you have brought your child to!” + +“Hush! hush! Madge, bush!” cried Sibyll, while Adam gazed in evident +perturbation and awakening shame at the intruder, turning his eyes round +the room as she spoke, and heaving from time to time short, deep sighs. + +“But I will not hush,” pursued the old woman; “I will say my say, for +I love ye both, and I loved my poor mistress who is dead and gone. Ah, +sir, groan! it does you good. And now when this sweet damsel is growing +up, now when you should think of saving a marriage dower for her (for no +marriage where no pot boils), do you rend from her the little that she +has drudged to gain!--She! Oh, out on your heart! And for what,--for +what, sir? For the neighbours to set fire to your father’s house, and +the little ones to--” + +“Forbear, woman!” cried Adam, in a voice of thunder; “forbear! Heavens!” + And he waved his hand as he spoke, with so unexpected a majesty that +Madge was awed into sudden silence, and, darting a look of compassion at +Sibyll, she hobbled from the room. Adam stood motionless an instant; +but when he felt his child’s soft arms round his neck, when he heard +her voice struggling against tears, praying him not to heed the foolish +words of the old servant,--to take--to take all, that it would be easy +to gain more,--the ice of his philosophy melted at once; the man broke +forth, and, clasping Sibyll to his heart, and kissing her cheek, her +lips, her hands, he faltered out, “No! no! forgive me! Forgive thy cruel +father! Much thought has maddened me, I think,--it has indeed! Poor +child, poor Sibyll,” and he stroked her cheek gently, and with a +movement of pathetic pity--“poor child, thou art pale, and so slight and +delicate! And this chamber--and thy loneliness--and--ah! my life hath +been a curse to thee, yet I meant to bequeath it a boon to all! + +“Father, dear father, speak not thus. You break my heart. Here, here, +take the gold--or rather, for thou must not venture out to insult again, +let me purchase with it what thou needest. Tell me, trust me--” + +“No!” exclaimed Adam, with that hollow energy by which a man resolves +to impose restraint on himself; “I will not, for all that science ever +achieved,--I will not lay this shame on my soul! Spend this gold on +thyself, trim this room, buy thee raiment,--all that thou needest,--I +order, I command it! And hark thee, if thou gettest more, hide it from +me, hide it well; men’s desires are foul tempters! I never knew, in +following wisdom, that I had a vice. I wake and find myself a miser and +a robber!” + +And with these words he fled from the girl’s chamber, gained his own, +and locked the door. + + + + +CHAPTER III. A STRANGE VISITOR.--ALL AGES OF THE WORLD BREED +WORLD-BETTERS. + +Sibyll, whose soft heart bled for her father, and who now reproached +herself for having concealed from him her little hoard, began hastily to +dress that she might seek him out, and soothe the painful feelings +which the honest rudeness of Madge had aroused. But before her task was +concluded, there pealed a loud knock at the outer door. She heard the +old housekeeper’s quivering voice responding to a loud clear tone; and +presently Madge herself ascended the stairs to Warner’s room, followed +by a man whom Sibyll instantly recognized--for he was not one easily to +be forgotten--as their protector from the assault of the mob. She drew +back hastily as he passed her door, and in some wonder and alarm +awaited the descent of Madge. That venerable personage having with some +difficulty induced her master to open his door and admit the stranger, +came straight into her young lady’s chamber. “Cheer up, cheer up, +sweetheart,” said the old woman; “I think better days will shine soon; +for the honest man I have admitted says he is but come to tell Master +Warner something that will redound much to his profit. Oh, he is a +wonderful fellow, this same Robin! You saw how he turned the cullions +from burning the old house!” + +“What! you know this man, Madge! What is he, and who?” + +Madge looked puzzled. “That is more than I can say, sweet mistress. But +though he has been but some weeks in the neighbourhood, they all hold +him in high count and esteem. For why--it is said he is a rich man and a +kind one. He does a world of good to the poor.” + +While Sibyll listened to such explanations as Madge could give her, the +stranger, who had carefully closed the door of the student’s chamber, +after regarding Adam for a moment with silent but keen scrutiny, thus +began,-- + +“When last we met, Adam Warner, it was with satchells on our backs. Look +well at me!” + +“Troth,” answered Adam, languidly, for he was still under the deep +dejection that had followed the scene with Sibyll, “I cannot call you to +mind, nor seems it veritable that our schooldays passed together, +seeing that my hair is gray and men call me old; but thou art in all the +lustihood of this human life.” + +“Nathless,” returned the stranger, “there are but two years or so +between thine age and mine. When thou wert poring over the crabbed text, +and pattering Latin by the ell, dost thou not remember a lack-grace +good-for-naught, Robert Hilyard, who was always setting the school in +an uproar, and was finally outlawed from that boy-world, as he hath been +since from the man’s world, for inciting the weak to resist the strong?” + +“Ah,” exclaimed Adam, with a gleam of something like joy on his face, +“art thou indeed that riotous, brawling, fighting, frank-hearted, bold +fellow, Robert Hilyard? Ha! ha!--those were merry days! I have known +none like them--” The old schoolfellows shook hands heartily. + +“The world has not fared well with thee in person or pouch, I fear me, +poor Adam,” said Hilyard; “thou canst scarcely have passed thy fiftieth +year, and yet thy learned studies have given thee the weight of sixty; +while I, though ever in toil and bustle, often wanting a meal, and even +fearing the halter, am strong and hearty as when I shot my first fallow +buck in the king’s forest, and kissed the forester’s pretty daughter. +Yet, methinks, Adam, if what I hear of thy tasks be true, thou and I +have each been working for one end; thou to make the world other than it +is, and I to--” + +“What! hast thou, too, taken nourishment from the bitter milk of +Philosophy,--thou, fighting Rob?” + +“I know not whether it be called philosophy, but marry, Edward of York +would call it rebellion; they are much the same, for both war against +rules established!” returned Hilyard, with more depth of thought than +his careless manner seemed to promise. He paused, and laying his broad +brown hand on Warner’s shoulder, resumed, “Thou art poor, Adam!” + +“Very poor,--very, very!” + +“Does thy philosophy disdain gold?” + +“What can philosophy achieve without it? She is a hungry dragon, and her +very food is gold!” + +“Wilt thou brave some danger--thou went ever a fearless boy when thy +blood was up, though so meek and gentle--wilt thou brave some danger for +large reward?” + +“My life braves the scorn of men, the pinchings of famine, and, it may +be, the stake and the fagot. Soldiers brave not the dangers that are +braved by a wise man in an unwise age!” + +“Gramercy! thou hast a hero’s calm aspect while thou speakest, and thy +words move me! Listen! Thou wert wont, when Henry of Windsor was King +of England, to visit and confer with him on learned matters. He is now +a captive in the Tower; but his jailers permit him still to receive the +visits of pious monks and harmless scholars. I ask thee to pay him such +a visit, and for this office I am empowered, by richer men than myself, +to award thee the guerdon of twenty broad pieces of gold.” + +“Twenty!--A mine! a Tmolus!” exclaimed Adam, in uncontrollable glee. +“Twenty! O true friend, then my work will be born at last!” + +“But hear me further, Adam, for I will not deceive thee; the visit hath +its peril! Thou must first see if the mind of King Henry, for king he +is, though the usurper wear his holy crown, be clear and healthful. Thou +knowest he is subject to dark moods,--suspension of man’s reason; and if +he be, as his friends hope, sane and right-judging, thou wilt give him +certain papers, which, after his hand has signed them, thou wilt bring +back to me. If in this thou succeedest, know that thou mayst restore the +royalty of Lancaster to the purple and the throne; that thou wilt have +princes and earls for favourers and protectors to thy learned life; that +thy fortunes and fame are made! Fail, be discovered,--and Edward of York +never spares!--thy guerdon will be the nearest tree and the strongest +rope!” + +“Robert,” said Adam, who had listened to this address with unusual +attention, “thou dealest with me plainly, and as man should deal with +man. I know little of stratagem and polity, wars and kings; and save +that King Henry, though passing ignorant in the mathematics, and more +given to alchemists than to solid seekers after truth, was once or twice +gracious to me, I could have no choice, in these four walls, between an +Edward and a Henry on the throne. But I have a king whose throne is +in mine own breast, and, alack, it taxeth me heavily, and with sore +burdens.” + +“I comprehend,” said the visitor, glancing round the room,--“I +comprehend: thou wantest money for thy books and instruments, and thy +melancholic passion is thy sovereign. Thou wilt incur the risk?” + +“I will,” said Adam. “I would rather seek in the lion’s den for what I +lack than do what I well-nigh did this day.” + +“What crime was that, poor scholar?” said Robin, smiling. + +“My child worked for her bread and my luxuries--I would have robbed her, +old schoolfellow. Ha, ha! what is cord and gibbet to one so tempted?” + +A tear stood in the bright gray eyes of the bluff visitor. “Ah, Adam,” + he said sadly, “only by the candle held in the skeleton hand of Poverty +can man read his own dark heart. But thou, Workman of Knowledge, +hast the same interest as the poor who dig and delve. Though strange +circumstance hath made me the servant and emissary of Margaret, think +not that I am but the varlet of the great.” Hilyard paused a moment, and +resumed,-- + +“Thou knowest, peradventure, that my race dates from an elder date than +these Norman nobles, who boast their robber-fathers. From the +renowned Saxon Thane, who, free of hand and of cheer, won the name of +Hildegardis, [Hildegardis, namely, old German, a person of noble or +generous disposition. Wotton’s “Baronetage,” art. Hilyard, or Hildyard, +of Pattrington.] our family took its rise. But under these Norman barons +we sank with the nation to which we belonged. Still were we called +gentlemen, and still were dubbed knights. But as I grew up to man’s +estate, I felt myself more Saxon than gentleman, and, as one of a +subject and vassal race, I was a son of the Saxon people. My father, +like thee, was a man of thought and bookcraft. I dare own to thee +that he was a Lollard; and with the religion of those bold foes to +priest-vice, goes a spirit that asks why the people should be evermore +the spoil and prey of lords and kings. Early in my youth, my father, +fearing rack and fagot in England, sought refuge in the Hans town +of Lubeck. There I learned grave truths,--how liberty can be won and +guarded. Later in life I saw the republics of Italy, and I asked why +they were so glorious in all the arts and craft of civil life, while the +braver men of France and England seemed as savages by the side of the +Florentine burgess, nay, of the Lombard vine-dresser. I saw that, even +when those republics fell a victim to some tyrant or podesta, their men +still preserved rights and uttered thoughts which left them more free +and more great than the Commons of England after all their boasted wars. +I came back to my native land and settled in the North, as my franklin +ancestry before me. The broad lands of my forefathers had devolved on +the elder line, and gave a knight’s fee to Sir Robert Hilyard, who fell +afterwards at Towton for the Lancastrians. But I had won gold in the +far countree, and I took farm and homestead near Lord Warwick’s tower of +Middleham. The feud between Lancaster and York broke forth; Earl Warwick +summoned his retainers, myself amongst them, since I lived upon his +land; I sought the great earl, and I told him boldly--him whom the +Commons deemed a friend, and a foe to all malfaisance and abuse--I told +him that the war he asked me to join seemed to me but a war of ambitious +lords, and that I saw not how the Commons were to be bettered, let who +would be king. The earl listened and deigned to reason; and when he saw +I was not convinced, he left me to my will; for he is a noble chief, +and I admired even his angry pride, when he said, ‘Let no man fight +for Warwick whose heart beats not in his cause.’ I lived afterwards to +discharge my debt to the proud earl, and show him how even the lion +may be meshed, and how even the mouse may gnaw the net. But to my own +tragedy. So I quitted those parts, for I feared my own resolution near +so great a man; I made a new home not far from the city of York. So, +Adam, when all the land around bristled with pike and gisarme, and while +my own cousin and namesake, the head of my House, was winning laurels +and wasting blood--I, thy quarrelsome, fighting friend--lived at home in +peace with my wife and child (for I was now married, and wife and child +were dear to me), and tilled my lands. But in peace I was active and +astir, for my words inflamed the bosoms of labourers and peasants, and +many of them, benighted as they were, thought with me. One day--I was +absent from home, selling my grain in the marts of York--one day there +entered the village a young captain, a boy-chief, Edward Earl of March, +beating for recruits. Dost thou heed me, Adam? Well, man--well, the +peasants stood aloof from tromp and banner, and they answered, to all +the talk of hire and fame, ‘Robin Hilyard tells us we have nothing to +gain but blows,--leave us to hew and to delve.’ Oh, Adam, this boy, this +chief, the Earl of March, now crowned King Edward, made but one reply, +‘This Robin Hilyard must be a wise man,--show me his house.’ They +pointed out the ricks, the barns, the homestead, and in five minutes +all--all were in flames. ‘Tell the hilding, when he returns, that thus +Edward of March, fair to friends and terrible to foes, rewards the +coward who disaffects the men of Yorkshire to their chief.’ And by the +blazing rafters, and the pale faces of the silent crowd, he rode on his +way to battle and the throne!” + +Hilyard paused, and the anguish of his countenance was terrible to +behold. + +“I returned to find a heap of ashes; I returned to find my wife a +maniac; I returned to find my child--my boy--great God!--he had run to +hide himself, in terror at the torches and the grim men; they had failed +to discover him, till, too late, his shrieks, amidst the crashing walls, +burst on his mother’s ear,--and the scorched, mangled, lifeless corpse +lay on that mother’s bosom!” + +Adam rose; his figure was transformed. Not the stooping student, but +the knight-descended man, seemed to tower in the murky chamber; his hand +felt at his side, as for a sword; he stifled a curse, and Hilyard, in +that suppressed low voice which evinces a strong mind in deep emotion, +continued his tale. + +“Blessed be the Divine Intercessor, the mother of the dead died too! +Behold me, a lonely, ruined, wifeless, childless wretch! I made all the +world my foe! The old love of liberty (alone left me) became a crime; +I plunged into the gloom of the forest, a robber-chief, sparing--no, +never-never--never one York captain, one spurred knight, one belted +lord! But the poor, my Saxon countrymen, they had suffered, and were +safe! + +“One dark twilight--thou hast heard the tale, every village minstrel +sets it to his viol--a majestic woman, a hunted fugitive, crossed my +path; she led a boy in her hand, a year or so younger than my murdered +child. ‘Friend!’ said the woman, fearlessly, ‘save the son of your king; +I am Margaret, Queen of England!’ I saved them both. From that hour the +robber-chief, the Lollard’s son, became a queen’s friend. Here opened, +at least, vengeance against the fell destroyer. Now see you why I seek +you, why tempt you into danger? Pause, if you will, for my passion heats +my blood,--and all the kings since Saul, it may be, are not worth one +scholar’s life! And yet,” continued Hilyard, regaining his ordinary +calm tone, “and yet, it seemeth to me, as I said at first, that all +who labour have in this a common cause and interest with the poor. This +woman-king, though bloody man, with his wine-cups and his harlots, this +usurping York--his very existence flaunts the life of the sons of toil. +In civil war and in broil, in strife that needs the arms of the people, +the people shall get their own.” + +“I will go,” said Adam, and he advanced to the door. Hilyard caught his +arm. “Why, friend, thou hast not even the documents, and how wouldst +thou get access to the prison? Listen to me; or,” added the conspirator, +observing poor Adam’s abstracted air, “or let me rather speak a word +to thy fair daughter; women have ready wit, and are the pioneers to +the advance of men! Adam, Adam! thou art dreaming!”--He shook the +philosopher’s arm roughly. + +“I heed you,” said Warner, meekly. + +“The first thing required,” renewed Hilyard, “is a permit to see King +Henry. This is obtained either from the Lord Worcester, governor of +the Tower, a cruel man, who may deny it, or the Lord Hastings, Edward’s +chamberlain, a humane and gentle one, who will readily grant it. Let not +thy daughter know why thou wouldst visit Henry; let her suppose it is +solely to make report of his health to Margaret; let her not know there +is scheming or danger,--so, at least, her ignorance will secure her +safety. But let her go to the lord chamberlain, and obtain the order +for a learned clerk to visit the learned prisoner--to--ha! well thought +of--this strange machine is, doubtless, the invention of which thy +neighbours speak; this shall make thy excuse; thou wouldst divert the +prisoner with thy mechanical--comprehendest thou, Adam?” + +“Ah, King Henry will see the model, and when he is on the throne--” + +“He will protect the scholar!” interrupted Hilyard. “Good! good! Wait +here; I will confer with thy daughter.” He gently pushed aside Adam, +opened the door, and on descending the stairs, found Sibyll by the large +casement where she had stood with Marmaduke, and heard the rude stave of +the tymbesteres. + +The anxiety the visit of Hilyard had occasioned her was at once allayed, +when he informed her that he had been her father’s schoolmate, and +desired to become his friend. And when he drew a moving picture of the +exiled condition of Margaret and the young prince, and their natural +desire to learn tidings of the health of the deposed king, her gentle +heart, forgetting the haughty insolence with which her royal mistress +had often wounded and chilled her childhood, felt all the generous +and compassionate sympathy the conspirator desired to awaken. “The +occasion,” added Hilyard, “for learning the poor captive’s state now +offers! He hath heard of your father’s labours; he desires to learn +their nature from his own lips. He is allowed to receive, by an order +from King Edward’s chamberlain, the visits of those scholars in +whose converse he was ever wont to delight. Wilt thou so far aid the +charitable work as to seek the Lord Hastings, and crave the necessary +license? Thou seest that thy father has wayward and abstract moods; he +might forget that Henry of Windsor is no longer king, and might give him +that title in speaking to Lord Hastings,--a slip of the tongue which the +law styles treason.” + +“Certes,” said Sibyll, quickly, “if my father would seek the poor +captive, I will be his messenger to my Lord Hastings. But oh, sir, as +thou hast known my father’s boyhood, and as thou hopest for mercy in the +last day, tempt to no danger one so guileless!” + +Hilyard winced as he interrupted her hastily, + +“There is no danger if thou wilt obtain the license. I will say more,--a +reward awaits him, that will not only banish his poverty but save his +life.” + +“His life!” + +“Ay! seest thou not, fair mistress, that Adam Warner is dying, not of +the body’s hunger, but of the soul’s? He craveth gold, that his toils +may reap their guerdon. If that gold be denied, his toils will fret him +to the grave!” + +“Alas! alas! it is true.” + +“That gold he shall honourably win! Nor is this all. Thou wilt see the +Lord Hastings: he is less learned, perhaps, than Worcester, less dainty +in accomplishments and gifts than Anthony Woodville, but his mind is +profound and vast; all men praise him save the queen’s kin. He loves +scholars; he is mild to distress; he laughs at the superstitions of the +vulgar. Thou wilt see the Lord Hastings, and thou mayst interest him in +thy father’s genius and his fate!” + +“There is frankness in thy voice, and I will trust thee,” answered +Sibyll. “When shall I seek this lord?” + +“This day, if thou wilt. He lodges at the Tower, and gives access, it is +said, to all who need his offices, or seek succour from his power.” + +“This day, then, be it!” answered Sibyll, calmly. + +Hilyard gazed at her countenance, rendered so noble in its youthful +resignation, in its soft firmness of expression, and muttering, “Heaven +prosper thee, maiden; we shall meet tomorrow,” descended the stairs, and +quitted the house. + +His heart smote him when he was in the street. “If evil should come to +this meek scholar, to that poor child’s father, it would be a sore sin +to my soul. But no; I will not think it. The saints will not suffer this +bloody Edward to triumph long; and in this vast chessboard of vengeance +and great ends, we must move men to and fro, and harden our natures to +the hazard of the game.” + +Sibyll sought her father; his mind had flown back to the model. He was +already living in the life that the promised gold would give to the dumb +thought. True that all the ingenious additions to the engine--additions +that were to convince the reason and startle the fancy--were not yet +complete (for want, of course, of the diamond bathed in moonbeams); +but still there was enough in the inventions already achieved to excite +curiosity and obtain encouragement. So, with care and diligence and +sanguine hope the philosopher prepared the grim model for exhibition to +a man who had worn a crown, and might wear again. But with that innocent +and sad cunning which is so common with enthusiasts of one idea, the +sublime dwellers of the narrow border between madness and inspiration, +Adam, amidst his excitement, contrived to conceal from his daughter all +glimpse of the danger he ran, of the correspondence of which he was to +be the medium,--or rather, may we think that he had forgotten both! Not +the stout Warwick himself, in the roar of battle, thought so little of +peril to life and limb as that gentle student, in the reveries of his +lonely closet; and therefore, all unsuspicious, and seeing but diversion +to Adam’s recent gloom of despair, an opening to all his bright +prospects, Sibyll attired herself in her holiday garments, drew her +wimple closely round her face, and summoning Madge to attend her, bent +her way to the Tower. Near York House, within view of the Sanctuary and +the Palace of Westminster, they took a boat, and arrived at the stairs +of the Tower. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. LORD HASTINGS. + +William Lord Hastings was one of the most remarkable men of the age. +Philip de Comines bears testimony to his high repute for wisdom and +virtue. Born the son of a knight of ancient lineage but scanty lands, +he had risen, while yet in the prime of life, to a rank and an influence +second, perhaps, only to the House of Nevile. Like Lord Montagu, he +united in happy combination the talents of a soldier and a courtier. But +as a statesman, a schemer, a thinker, Montagu, with all his craft, was +inferior to Hastings. In this, the latter had but two equals,--namely, +George, the youngest of the Nevile brothers, Archbishop of York; and +a boy, whose intellect was not yet fully developed, but in whom was +already apparent to the observant the dawn of a restless, fearless, +calculating, and subtle genius. That boy, whom the philosophers of +Utrecht had taught to reason, whom the lessons of Warwick had trained to +arms, was Richard, Duke of Gloucester, famous even now for his skill in +the tilt-yard and his ingenuity in the rhetoric of the schools. + +The manners of Lord Hastings had contributed to his fortunes. Despite +the newness of his honours, even the haughtiest of the ancient nobles +bore him no grudge, for his demeanour was at once modest and manly. He +was peculiarly simple and unostentatious in his habits, and possessed +that nameless charm which makes men popular with the lowly and welcome +to the great. [On Edward’s accession so highly were the services of +Hastings appreciated by the party, that not only the king, but many of +the nobility, contributed to render his wealth equal to his new station, +by grants of lands and moneys. Several years afterwards, when he +went with Edward into France, no less than two lords, nine knights, +fifty-eight squires, and twenty gentlemen joined his train.--Dugdale: +Baronage, p. 583. Sharon Turner: History of England, vol. iii. p. 380.] +But in that day a certain mixture of vice was necessary to success; and +Hastings wounded no self-love by the assumption of unfashionable purism. +He was regarded with small favour by the queen, who knew him as the +companion of Edward in his pleasures, and at a later period accused him +of enticing her faithless lord into unworthy affections. And certain it +is, that he was foremost amongst the courtiers in those adventures which +we call the excesses of gayety and folly, though too often leading to +Solomon’s wisdom and his sadness. But profligacy with Hastings had the +excuse of ardent passions: he had loved deeply, and unhappily, in his +earlier youth, and he gave in to the dissipation of the time with the +restless eagerness common to strong and active natures when the heart is +not at ease; and under all the light fascination of his converse; or +the dissipation of his life, lurked the melancholic temperament of a man +worthy of nobler things. Nor was the courtly vice of the libertine the +only drawback to the virtuous character assigned to Hastings by Comines. +His experience of men had taught him something of the disdain of the +cynic, and he scrupled not at serving his pleasures or his ambition by +means which his loftier nature could not excuse to his clear sense. +[See Comines, book vi., for a curious anecdote of what Mr. Sharon Turner +happily calls “the moral coquetry” of Hastings,--an anecdote which +reveals much of his character.] Still, however, the world, which +had deteriorated, could not harden him. Few persons so able acted +so frequently from impulse; the impulses were for the most part +affectionate and generous, but then came the regrets of caution and +experience; and Hastings summoned his intellect to correct the movement +of his heart,--in other words, reflection sought to undo what impulse +had suggested. Though so successful a gallant, he had not acquired +the ruthless egotism of the sensualist; and his conduct to women often +evinced the weakness of giddy youth rather than the cold deliberation +of profligate manhood. Thus in his veriest vices there was a spurious +amiability, a seductive charm; while in the graver affairs of life the +intellectual susceptibility of his nature served but to quicken his +penetration and stimulate his energies, and Hastings might have said, +with one of his Italian contemporaries, “That in subjection to the +influences of women he had learned the government of men.” In a word, +his powers to attract, and his capacities to command, may be guessed by +this,--that Lord Hastings was the only man Richard III. seems to have +loved, when Duke of Gloucester, [Sir Thomas More, “Life of Edward V.,” + speaks of “the great love” Richard bore to Hastings.] and the only man +he seems to have feared, when resolved to be King of England. + +Hastings was alone in the apartments assigned to him in the Tower, when +his page, with a peculiar smile, announced to him the visit of a young +donzell, who would not impart her business to his attendants. + +The accomplished chamberlain looked up somewhat impatiently from the +beautiful manuscripts, enriched with the silver verse of Petrarch, +which lay open on his table, and after muttering to himself, “It is only +Edward to whom the face of a woman never is unwelcome,” bade the page +admit the visitor. The damsel entered, and the door closed upon her. + +“Be not alarmed, maiden,” said Hastings, touched by the downcast bend +of the hooded countenance, and the unmistakable and timid modesty of his +visitor’s bearing. “What hast thou to say to me?” + +At the sound of his voice, Sibyll Warner started, and uttered a +faint exclamation. The stranger of the pastime-ground was before her. +Instinctively she drew the wimple yet more closely round her face, and +laid her hand upon the bolt of the door as if in the impulse of retreat. + +The nobleman’s curiosity was roused. He looked again and earnestly on +the form that seemed to shrink from his gaze; then rising slowly, he +advanced, and laid his band on her arm. “Donzell, I recognize thee,” he +said, in a voice that sounded cold and stern. “What service wouldst thou +ask me to render thee? Speak! Nay! I pray thee, speak.” + +“Indeed, good my lord,” said Sibyll, conquering her confusion; and, +lifting her wimple, her dark blue eyes met those bent on her, with +fearless truth and innocence, “I knew not, and you will believe me,--I +knew not till this moment that I had such cause for gratitude to the +Lord Hastings. I sought you but on the behalf of my father, Master Adam +Warner, who would fain have the permission accorded to other scholars, +to see the Lord Henry of Windsor, who was gracious to him in other days, +and to while the duress of that princely captive with the show of a +quaint instrument he has invented.” + +“Doubtless,” answered Hastings, who deserved his character (rare in that +day) for humanity and mildness--“doubt less it will pleasure me, nor +offend his grace the king, to show all courtesy and indulgence to the +unhappy gentleman and lord, whom the weal of England condemns us to hold +incarcerate. I have heard of thy father, maiden, an honest and simple +man, in whom we need not fear a conspirator; and of thee, young +mistress, I have heard also, since we parted.” + +“Of me, noble sir?” + +“Of thee,” said Hastings, with a smile; and, placing a seat for her, +he took from the table an illuminated manuscript. “I have to thank thy +friend Master Alwyn for procuring me this treasure!” + +“What, my lord!” said Sibyll, and her eyes glistened, “were you--you +the--the--” + +“The fortunate person whom Alwyn has enriched at so slight a cost? Yes. +Do not grudge me my good fortune in this. Thou hast nobler treasures, +methinks, to bestow on another!” + +“My good lord!” + +“Nay, I must not distress thee. And the young gentleman has a fair face; +may it bespeak a true heart!” + +These words gave Sibyll an emotion of strange delight. They seemed +spoken sadly, they seemed to betoken a jealous sorrow; they awoke +the strange, wayward woman-feeling, which is pleased at the pain that +betrays the woman’s influence: the girl’s rosy lips smiled maliciously. +Hastings watched her, and her face was so radiant with that rare gleam +of secret happiness,--so fresh, so young, so pure, and withal so arch +and captivating, that hackneyed and jaded as he was in the vulgar +pursuit of pleasure, the sight moved better and tenderer feelings than +those of the sensualist. “Yes,” he muttered to himself, “there are some +toys it were a sin to sport with and cast away amidst the broken rubbish +of gone passions!” + +He turned to the table, and wrote the order of admission to Henry’s +prison, and as he gave it to Sibyll, he said, “Thy young gallant, I see, +is at the court now. It is a perilous ordeal, and especially to one for +whom the name of Nevile opens the road to advancement and honour. Men +learn betimes in courts to forsake Love for Plutus, and many a wealthy +lord would give his heiress to the poorest gentleman who claims kindred +to the Earl of Salisbury and Warwick.” + +“May my father’s guest so prosper,” answered Sibyll, “for he seems of +loyal heart and gentle nature!” + +“Thou art unselfish, sweet mistress,” said Hastings; and, surprised +by her careless tone, he paused a moment: “or art thou, in truth, +indifferent? Saw I not thy hand in his, when even those loathly +tymbesteres chanted warning to thee for loving, not above thy merits, +but, alas, it may be, above thy fortunes?” + +Sibyll’s delight increased. Oh, then, he had not applied that hateful +warning to himself! He guessed not her secret. She blushed, and the +blush was so chaste and maidenly, while the smile that went with it +was so ineffably animated and joyous, that Hastings exclaimed, with +unaffected admiration, “Surely, fair donzell, Petrarch dreamed of thee, +when he spoke of the woman-blush and the angel-smile of Laura. Woe to +the man who would injure thee! Farewell! I would not see thee too often, +unless I saw thee ever.” + +He lifted her hand to his lips with a chivalrous respect as he spoke; +opened the door, and called his page to attend her to the gates. + +Sibyll was more flattered by the abrupt dismissal than if he had knelt +to detain her. How different seemed the world as her light step wended +homeward! + + + + +CHAPTER V. MASTER ADAM WARNER AND KING HENRY THE SIXTH. + +The next morning Hilyard revisited Warner with the letters for Henry. +The conspirator made Adam reveal to him the interior mechanism of the +Eureka, to which Adam, who had toiled all night, had appended one of +the most ingenious contrivances he had as yet been enabled (sans the +diamond) to accomplish, for the better display of the agencies which +the engine was designed to achieve. This contrivance was full of strange +cells and recesses, in one of which the documents were placed. And there +they lay, so well concealed as to puzzle the minutest search, if not +aided by the inventor, or one to whom he had communicated the secrets of +the contrivance. + +After repeated warnings and exhortations to discretion, Hilyard then, +whose busy, active mind had made all the necessary arrangements, +summoned a stout-looking fellow, whom he had left below, and with his +aid conveyed the heavy machine across the garden, to a back lane, where +a mule stood ready to receive the burden. + +“Suffer this trusty fellow to guide thee, dear Adam; he will take thee +through ways where thy brutal neighbours are not likely to meet and +molest thee. Call all thy wits to the surface. Speed and prosper!” + +“Fear not,” said Adam, disdainfully. “In the neighbourhood of kings, +science is ever safe. Bless thee, child,” and he laid his hand upon +Sibyll’s head, for she had accompanied them thus far in silence, “now go +in.” + +“I go with thee, Father,” said Sibyll, firmly. “Master Hilyard, it +is best so,” she whispered; “what if my father fall into one of his +reveries?” + +“You are right: go with him, at least, to the Tower gate. Hard by is the +house of a noble dame and a worthy, known to our friend Hugh, where thou +mayest wait Master Warner’s return. It will not suit thy modesty and sex +to loiter amongst the pages and soldiery in the yard. Adam, thy daughter +must wend with thee.” + +Adam had not attended to this colloquy, and mechanically bowing his +head, he set off, and was greatly surprised, on gaining the river-side +(where a boat was found large enough to accommodate not only the human +passengers, but the mule and its burden), to see Sibyll by his side. + +The imprisonment of the unfortunate Henry, though guarded with +sufficient rigour against all chances of escape, was not, as the reader +has perceived, at this period embittered by unnecessary harshness. +His attendants treated him with respect, his table was supplied more +abundantly and daintily than his habitual abstinence required, and the +monks and learned men whom he had favoured, were, we need not repeat, +permitted to enliven his solitude with their grave converse. + +On the other hand, all attempts at correspondence between Margaret or +the exiled Lancastrians and himself had been jealously watched, and when +detected, the emissaries had been punished with relentless severity. A +man named Hawkins had been racked for attempting to borrow money for the +queen from the great London merchant, Sir Thomas Cook. A shoemaker +had been tortured to death with red-hot pincers for abetting her +correspondence with her allies. Various persons had been racked for +similar offences; but the energy of Margaret and the zeal of her +adherents were still unexhausted and unconquered. + +Either unconscious or contemptuous of the perils to which he was +subjected, the student, with his silent companions, performed the +voyage, and landed in sight of the Fortress-Palatine. And now Hugh +stopped before a house of good fashion, knocked at the door, which was +opened by an old servitor, disappeared for a few moments, and returning, +informed Sibyll, in a meaning whisper, that the gentlewoman within was +a good Lancastrian, and prayed the donzell to rest in her company till +Master Warner’s return. + +Sibyll, accordingly, after pressing her father’s hand without fear--for +she had deemed the sole danger Adam risked was from the rabble by the +way--followed Hugh into a fair chamber, strewed with rushes, where an +aged dame, of noble air and aspect, was employed at her broidery frame. +This gentlewoman, the widow of a nobleman who had fallen in the service +of Henry, received her graciously, and Hugh then retired to complete +his commission. The student, the mule, the model, and the porter pursued +their way to the entrance of that part of the gloomy palace inhabited +by Henry. Here they were stopped, and Adam, after rummaging long in vain +for the chamberlain’s passport, at last happily discovered it, pinned to +his sleeve, by Sibyll’s forethought. On this a gentleman was summoned +to inspect the order, and in a few moments Adam was conducted to the +presence of the illustrious prisoner. + +“And what,” said a subaltern officer, lolling by the archway of the (now +styled) “Bloody Tower,” hard by the turret devoted to the prisoner, [The +Wakefield Tower] and speaking to Adam’s guide, who still mounted guard +by the model,--“what may be the precious burden of which thou art the +convoy?” + +“Marry, sir,” said Hugh, who spoke in the strong Yorkshire dialect, +which we are obliged to render into intelligible English--“marry, I weet +not,--it is some curious puppet-box, or quiet contrivance, that Master +Warner, whom they say is a very deft and ingenious personage, is +permitted to bring hither for the Lord Henry’s diversion.” + +“A puppet-box!” said the officer, with much animated curiosity. “‘Fore +the Mass! that must be a pleasant sight. Lift the lid, fellow!” + +“Please your honour, I do not dare,” returned Hugh,--“I but obey +orders.” + +“Obey mine, then. Out of the way,” and the officer lifted the lid of the +pannier with the point of his dagger, and peered within. He drew back, +much disappointed. “Holy Mother!” said he, “this seemeth more like an +instrument of torture than a juggler’s merry device. It looks parlous +ugly!” + +“Hush!” said one of the lazy bystanders, with whom the various gateways +and courts of the Palace-Fortress were crowded, “hush--thy cap and thy +knee, sir!” + +The officer started; and, looking round, perceived a young man of +low stature, followed by three or four knights and nobles, slowly +approaching towards the arch, and every cap in the vicinity was off, and +every knee bowed. + +The eye of this young man was already bent, with a searching and keen +gaze, upon the motionless mule, standing patiently by the Wakefield +Tower; and turning from the mule to the porter, the latter shrunk, and +grew pale, at that dark, steady, penetrating eye, which seemed to pierce +at once into the secrets and hearts of men. + +“Who may this young lord be?” he whispered to the officer. + +“Prince Richard, Duke of Gloucester, man,” was the answer. “Uncover, +varlet!” + +“Surely,” said the prince, pausing by the gate, “surely this is no +sumpter-mule, bearing provisions to the Lord Henry of Windsor. It would +be but poor respect to that noble person, whom, alas the day! his grace +the king is unwillingly compelled to guard from the malicious designs +of rebels and mischief-seekers, that one not bearing the king’s livery +should attend to any of the needful wants of so worshipful a lord and +guest!” + +“My lord,” said the officer at the gate, “one Master Adam Warner hath +just, by permission, been conducted to the Lord Henry’s presence, and +the beast beareth some strange and grim-looking device for my lord’s +diversion.” + +The singular softness and urbanity which generally characterized the +Duke of Gloucester’s tone and bearing at that time,--which in a court so +full of factions and intrigues made him the enemy of none and seemingly +the friend of all, and, conjoined with abilities already universally +acknowledged, had given to his very boyhood a pre-eminence of grave +repute and good opinion, which, indeed, he retained till the terrible +circumstances connected with his accession to the throne, under the +bloody name of Richard the Third, roused all men’s hearts and reasons +into the persuasion that what before had seemed virtue was but +dissimulation,--this singular sweetness, we say, of manner and voice, +had in it, nevertheless, something that imposed and thrilled and awed. +And in truth, in our common and more vulgar intercourse with life, +we must have observed, that where external gentleness of bearing is +accompanied by a repute for iron will, determined resolution, and a +serious, profound, and all-inquiring intellect, it carries with it a +majesty wholly distinct from that charm which is exercised by one whose +mildness of nature corresponds with the outward humility; and, if it +does not convey the notion of falseness, bears the appearance of that +perfect self-possession, that calm repose of power, which intimidates +those it influences far more than the imperious port and the loud voice. +And they who best knew the duke, knew also that, despite this general +smoothness of mien, his temperament was naturally irritable, quick, +and subject to stormy gusts of passion, the which defects his admirers +praised him for labouring hard and sedulously to keep in due control. +Still, to a keen observer, the constitutional tendencies of that nervous +temperament were often visible, even in his blandest moments, even when +his voice was most musical, his smile most gracious. If something stung +or excited him, an uneasy gnawing of the nether lip, a fretful playing +with his dagger, drawing it up and down from its sheath, [Pol. Virg. +565] a slight twitching of the muscles of the face, and a quiver of the +eyelid, betokened the efforts he made at self-command; and now, as his +dark eyes rested upon Hugh’s pale countenance, and then glanced upon the +impassive mule, dozing quietly under the weight of poor Adam’s model, +his hand mechanically sought his dagger-hilt, and his face took a +sinister and sombre expression. + +“Thy name, friend?” + +“Hugh Withers, please you, my lord duke.” + +“Um! North country, by thine accent. Dost thou serve this Master +Warner?” + +“No, my lord, I was only hired with my mule to carry--” + +“Ah, true! to carry what thy pannier contains; open it. Holy Paul! a +strange jonglerie indeed! This Master Adam Warner,--methinks, I +have heard his name--a learned man--um--let me see his safe conduct. +Right,--it is Lord Hastings’s signature.” But still the prince held the +passport, and still suspiciously eyed the Eureka and its appliances, +which, in their complicated and native ugliness of doors, wheels, +pipes, and chimney, were exposed to his view. At this moment, one of the +attendants of Henry descended the stairs of the Wakefield Tower, with a +request that the model might be carried up to divert the prisoner. + +Richard paused a moment, as the officer hesitatingly watched his +countenance before giving the desired permission. But the prince, +turning to him, and smoothing his brow, said mildly, “Certes! all +that can divert the Lord Henry must be innocent pastime. And I am well +pleased that he hath this cheerful mood for recreation. It gainsayeth +those who would accuse us of rigour in his durance. Yes, this warrant +is complete and formal;” and the prince returned the passport to +the officer, and walked slowly on through that gloomy arch ever more +associated with Richard of Gloucester’s memory, and beneath the very +room in which our belief yet holds that the infant sons of Edward IV. +breathed their last; still, as Gloucester moved, he turned and turned, +and kept his eye furtively fixed upon the porter. + +“Lovell,” he said to one of the gentlemen who attended him, and who was +among the few admitted to his more peculiar intimacy, “that man is of +the North.” + +“Well, my lord?” + +“The North was always well affected to the Lancastrians. Master Warner +hath been accused of witchcraft. Marry, I should like to see his +device--um; Master Catesby, come hither,--approach, sir. Go back, and +the instant Adam Warner and his contrivance are dismissed, bring them +both to me in the king’s chamber. Thou understandest? We too would +see his device,--and let neither man nor mechanical, when once they +reappear, out of thine eye’s reach. For divers and subtle are the +contrivances of treasonable men!” + +Catesby bowed, and Richard, without speaking further, took his way to +the royal apartments, which lay beyond the White Tower, towards the +river, and are long since demolished. + +Meanwhile the porter, with the aid of one of the attendants, had carried +the model into the chamber of the august captive. Henry, attired in a +loose robe, was pacing the room with a slow step, and his head sunk on +his bosom,--while Adam with much animation was enlarging on the wonders +of the contrivance he was about to show him. The chamber was commodious, +and furnished with sufficient attention to the state and dignity of the +prisoner; for Edward, though savage and relentless when his blood was +up, never descended into the cool and continuous cruelty of detail. + +The chamber may yet be seen,--its shape a spacious octagon; but the +walls now rude and bare were then painted and blazoned with scenes +from the Old Testament. The door opened beneath the pointed arch in +the central side (not where it now does), giving entrance from a small +anteroom, in which the visitor now beholds the receptacle for old rolls +and papers. At the right, on entering, where now, if our memory mistake +not, is placed a press, stood the bed, quaintly carved, and with +hangings of damascene. At the farther end the deep recess which faced +the ancient door was fitted up as a kind of oratory. And there were to +be seen, besides the crucifix and the Mass-book, a profusion of small +vessels of gold and crystal, containing the relics, supposed or real, of +saint and martyr, treasures which the deposed king had collected in +his palmier days at a sum that, in the minds of his followers, had been +better bestowed on arms and war-steeds. A young man named Allerton--one +of the three gentlemen personally attached to Henry, to whom Edward had +permitted general access, and who, in fact, lodged in other apartments +of the Wakefield Tower, and might be said to share his captivity--was +seated before a table, and following the steps of his musing master, +with earnest and watchful eyes. + +One of the small spaniels employed in springing game--for Henry, despite +his mildness, had been fond of all the sports of the field--lay curled +round on the floor, but started up, with a shrill bark, at the entrance +of the bearer of the model, while a starling in a cage by the window, +seemingly delighted at the disturbance, flapped his wings, and screamed +out, “Bad men! Bad world! Poor Henry!” + +The captive paused at that cry, and a sad and patient smile of +inexpressible melancholy and sweetness hovered over his lips. Henry +still retained much of the personal comeliness he possessed at the time +when Margaret of Anjou, the theme of minstrel and minne singer, left +her native court of poets for the fatal throne of England. But beauty, +usually so popular and precious a gift to kings, was not in him of that +order which commanded the eye and moved the admiration of a turbulent +people and a haughty chivalry. The features, if regular, were small; +their expression meek and timid; the form, though tall, was not +firm-knit and muscular; the lower limbs were too thin, the body had too +much flesh, the delicate hands betrayed the sickly paleness of feeble +health; there was a dreamy vagueness in the clear soft blue eyes, and +a listless absence of all energy in the habitual bend, the slow, heavy, +sauntering tread,--all about that benevolent aspect, that soft voice, +that resigned mien, and gentle manner, spoke the exquisite, unresisting +goodness, which provoked the lewd to taunt, the hardy to despise, the +insolent to rebel; for the foes of a king in stormy times are often less +his vices than his virtues. + +“And now, good my lord,” said Adam, hastening, with eager hands, to +assist the bearer in depositing the model on the table--“now will I +explain to you the contrivance which it hath cost me long years of +patient toil to shape from thought into this iron form.” + +“But first,” said Allerton, “were it not well that these good people +withdrew? A contriver likes not others to learn his secret ere the time +hath come to reap its profits.” + +“Surely, surely!” said Adam, and alarmed at the idea thus suggested, he +threw the folds of his gown over the model. + +The attendant bowed and retired; Hugh followed him, but not till he had +exchanged a significant look with Allerton. As soon as the room was +left clear to Adam, the captive, and Master Allerton, the last rose, and +looking hastily round the chamber, approached the mechanician. “Quick, +sir!” said he, in a whisper, “we are not often left without witnesses.” + +“Verily,” said Adam, who had now forgotten kings and stratagems, plots +and counterplots, and was all absorbed in his invention, “verily, young +man, hurry not in this fashion,--I am about to begin. Know, my lord,” + and he turned to Henry, who, with an indolent, dreamy gaze, stood +contemplating the Eureka,--“know that more than a hundred years before +the Christian era, one Hero, an Alexandrian, discovered the force +produced by the vapour begot by heat on water. That this power was not +unknown to the ancient sages, witness the contrivance, not otherwise to +be accounted for, of the heathen oracles; but to our great countryman +and predecessor, Roger Bacon, who first suggested that vehicles might be +drawn without steeds or steers, and ships might--” + +“Marry, sir,” interrupted Allerton, with great impatience, “it is not to +prate to us of such trivial fables of Man, or such wanton sports of the +Foul Fiend, that thou hast risked limb and life. Time is precious. I +have been prevised that thou hast letters for King Henry; produce them, +quick!” + +A deep glow of indignation had overspread the enthusiast’s face at the +commencement of this address; but the close reminded him, in truth, of +his errand. + +“Hot youth,” said he, with dignity, “a future age may judge differently +of what thou deemest trivial fables, and may rate high this poor +invention when the brawls of York and Lancaster are forgotten.” + +“Hear him,” said Henry, with a soft smile, and laying his hand on the +shoulder of the young man, who was about to utter a passionate and +scornful retort,--“hear him, sir. Have I not often and ever said this +same thing to thee? We children of a day imagine our contests are the +sole things that move the world. Alack! our fathers thought the same; +and they and their turmoils sleep forgotten! Nay, Master Warner,”--for +here Adam, poor man, awed by Henry’s mildness into shame at his +discourteous vaunting, began to apologize,--“nay, sir, nay--thou art +right to contemn our bloody and futile struggles for a crown of thorns; +for--” + + ‘Kingdoms are but cares, + State is devoid of stay + Riches are ready snares, + And hasten to decay.’ + +[Lines ascribed to Henry VI., with commendation “as a prettie verse,” by +Sir John Harrington, in the “Nugae Antiquate.” They are also given, with +little alteration, to the unhappy king by Baldwin, in his tragedy of +“King Henry VI.”] + +“And yet, sir, believe me, thou hast no cause for vain glory in thine +own craft and labours; for to wit and to lere there are the same vanity +and vexation of spirit as to war and empire. Only, O would-be wise +man, only when we muse on Heaven do our souls ascend from the fowler’s +snare!” + +“My saint-like liege,” said Allerton, bowing low, and with tears in his +eyes, “thinkest thou not that thy very disdain of thy rights makes thee +more worthy of them? If not for thine, for thy son’s sake, remember +that the usurper sits on the throne of the conqueror of Agincourt!--Sir +Clerk, the letters.” + +Adam, already anxious to retrieve the error of his first forgetfulness, +here, after a moment’s struggle for the necessary remembrance, drew the +papers from the labyrinthine receptacle which concealed them; and +Henry uttered an exclamation of joy as, after cutting the silk, his eye +glanced over the writing-- + +“My Margaret! my wife!” Presently he grew pale, and his hands trembled. +“Saints defend her! Saints defend her! She is here, disguised, in +London!” + +“Margaret! our hero-queen! the manlike woman!” exclaimed Allerton, +clasping his hands. “Then be sure that--” He stopped, and abruptly +taking Adam’s arm, drew him aside, while Henry continued to +read--“Master Warner, we may trust thee,--thou art one of us; thou art +sent here, I know; by Robin of Redesdale,--we may trust thee?” + +“Young sir,” replied the philosopher, gravely, “the fears and hopes +of power are not amidst the uneasier passions of the student’s mind. I +pledged myself but to bear these papers hither, and to return with what +may be sent back.” + +“But thou didst this for love of the cause, the truth, and the right?” + +“I did it partly from Hilyard’s tale of wrong, but partly, also, for +the gold,” answered Adam, simply; and his noble air, his high brow, the +serene calm of his features, so contrasted with the meanness implied in +the latter words of his confession, that Allerton stared at him amazed, +and without reply. + +Meanwhile Henry had concluded the letter, and with a heavy sigh glanced +over the papers that accompanied it. “Alack! alack! more turbulence, +more danger and disquiet, more of my people’s blood!” He motioned to +the young man, and drawing him to the window, while Adam returned to his +model, put the papers in his hand. “Allerton,” he said, “thou lovest me, +but thou art one of the few in this distraught land who love also God. +Thou art not one of the warriors, the men of steel. Counsel me. See: +Margaret demands my signature to these papers; the one, empowering and +craving the levy of men and arms in the northern counties; the other, +promising free pardon to all who will desert Edward; the +third--it seemeth to me more strange and less kinglike than the +others--undertaking to abolish all the imposts and all the laws that +press upon the commons, and (is this a holy and pious stipulation?) to +inquire into the exactions and persecutions of the priesthood of our +Holy Church!” + +“Sire!” said the young man, after he had hastily perused the papers, “my +lady liege showeth good argument for your assent to two, at least, of +these undertakings. See the names of fifty gentlemen ready to take arms +in your cause if authorized by your royal warrant. The men of the North +are malcontent with the usurper, but they will not yet stir, unless +at your own command. Such documents will, of course, be used with +discretion, and not to imperil your Grace’s safety.” + +“My safety!” said Henry, with a flash of his father’s hero soul in his +eyes--“of that I think not! If I have small courage to attack, I have +some fortitude to bear. But three months after these be signed, how many +brave hearts will be still! how many stout hands be dust! O Margaret! +Margaret! why temptest thou? Wert thou so happy when a queen?” The +prisoner broke from Allerton’s arm, and walked, in great disorder and +irresolution, to and fro the chamber; and strange it was to see the +contrast between himself and Warner,--both in so much alike, both +so purely creatures out of the common world, so gentle, abstract, so +utterly living in the life apart: and now the student so calm, the +prince so disturbed! The contrast struck Henry himself! He paused +abruptly, and, folding his arms, contemplated the philosopher, as, with +an affectionate complacency, Adam played and toyed, as it were, with his +beloved model; now opening and shutting again its doors, now brushing +away with his sleeve some particles of dust that had settled on it, now +retiring a few paces to gaze the better on its stern symmetry. + +“Oh, my Allerton!” cried Henry, “behold! the kingdom a man makes out of +his own mind is the only one that it delighteth man to govern! Behold, +he is lord over its springs and movements; its wheels revolve and stop +at his bidding. Here, here, alone, God never asketh the ruler, ‘Why was +the blood of thousands poured forth like water, that a worm might wear a +crown?’” + +“Sire,” said Allerton, solemnly, “when our Heavenly King appoints his +anointed representative on earth, He gives to that human delegate no +power to resign the ambassade and trust. What suicide is to a man, +abdication is to a king! How canst thou dispose of thy son’s rights? And +what becomes of those rights if thou wilt prefer for him the exile, for +thyself the prison, when one effort may restore a throne!” + +Henry seemed struck by a tone of argument that suited both his own mind +and the reasoning of the age. He gazed a moment on the face of the young +man, muttered to himself, and suddenly moving to the table, signed the +papers, and restored them to Adam, who mechanically replaced them in +their iron hiding-place. + +“Now begone, Sir!” whispered Allerton, afraid that Henry’s mind might +again change. + +“Will not my lord examine the engine?” asked Warner, half-beseechingly. + +“Not to-day! See, he has already retired to his oratory, he is in +prayer!” and, going to the door, Allerton summoned the attendants in +waiting to carry down the model. + +“Well, well, patience, patience! thou shalt have thine audience at +last,” muttered Adam, as he retired from the room, his eyes fixed upon +the neglected infant of his brain. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. HOW, ON LEAVING KING LOG, FOOLISH WISDOM RUNS A-MUCK ON KING +STORK. + +At the outer door of the Tower by which he had entered, the philosopher +was accosted by Catesby,--a man who, in imitation of his young patron, +exhibited the soft and oily manner which concealed intense ambition and +innate ferocity. + +“Worshipful my master,” said he, bowing low, but with a half sneer on +his lips, “the king and his Highness the Duke of Gloucester have +heard much of your strange skill, and command me to lead you to their +presence. Follow, sir, and you, my men, convey this quaint contrivance +to the king’s apartments.” + +With this, not waiting for any reply, Catesby strode on. Hugh’s face +fell; he turned very pale, and, imagining himself unobserved, turned +round to slink away. But Catesby, who seemed to have eyes at the back of +his head, called out, in a mild tone,-- + +“Good fellow, help to bear the mechanical--you, too, may be needed.” + +“Cog’s wounds!” muttered Hugh, “an’ I had but known what it was to set +my foot in a king’s palace! Such walking may do for the silken shoon, +but the hobnail always gets into a hobble.” With that, affecting a +cheerful mien, he helped to replace the model on the mule. + +Meanwhile, Adam, elated, poor man! at the flattery of the royal mandate, +persuaded that his fame had reached Edward’s ears, and chafed at the +little heed paid by the pious Henry to his great work, stalked on, his +head in the air. “Verily,” mused the student, “King Edward may have +been a cruel youth, and over hasty; it is horrible to think of Robert +Hilyard’s calamities! But men do say he hath an acute and masterly +comprehension. Doubtless, he will perceive at a glance how much I +can advantage his kingdom.” With this, we grieve to say, selfish +reflection--which, if the thought of his model could have slept a +while, Adam would have blushed to recall, as an affront to Hilyard’s +wrongs--the philosopher followed Catesby across the spacious yard, along +a narrow passage, and up a winding turret-stair, to a room in the third +story, which opened at one door into the king’s closet, at the other +into the spacious gallery, which was already a feature in the plan of +the more princely houses. In another minute Adam and his model were in +the presence of the king. The part of the room in which Edward sat was +distinguished from the rest by a small eastern carpet on the floor (a +luxury more in use in the palaces of that day than it appears to have +been a century later); [see the Narrative of the Lord Grauthuse, before +referred to] a table was set before him, on which the model was placed. +At his right hand sat Jacquetta, Duchess of Bedford, the queen’s mother; +at his left, Prince Richard. The duchess, though not without the remains +of beauty, had a stern, haughty, scornful expression in her sharp +aquiline features, compressed lips, and imperious eye. The paleness of +her complexion, and the careworn, anxious lines of her countenance, were +ascribed by the vulgar to studies of no holy cast. Her reputation for +sorcery and witchcraft was daily increasing, and served well the purpose +of the discontented barons, whom the rise of her children mortified and +enraged. + +“Approach, Master--What say you his name is, Richard?” + +“Adam Warner,” replied the sweet voice of the Duke of Gloucester; “of +excellent skill in the mathematics.” + +“Approach, sir, and show us the nature of this notable invention.” + +“I desire nothing better, my lord king,” said Adam, boldly; “but first +let me crave a small modicum of fuel. Fire, which is the life of +the world, as the wise of old held it, is also the soul of this, my +mechanical.” + +“Peradventure,” whispered the duchess, “the wizard desireth to consume +us.” + +“More likely,” replied Richard, in the same undertone, “to consume +whatever of treasonable nature may lurk concealed in his engine.” + +“True,” said Edward, and then, speaking aloud, “Master Warner,” he +added, “put thy puppet to its purpose without fire,--we will it.” + +“It is impossible, my lord,” said Adam, with a lofty smile. “Science and +nature are more powerful than a king’s word.” + +“Do not say that in public, my friend,” said Edward, dryly, “or we must +hang thee! I would not my subjects were told anything so treasonable. +Howbeit, to give thee no excuse in failure, thou shalt have what thou +needest.” + +“But surely not in our presence,” exclaimed the duchess. “This may be a +device of the Lancastrians for our perdition.” + +“As you please, belle mere,” said Edward, and he motioned to a +gentleman, who stood a few paces behind his chair, and who, from the +entrance of the mechanician, had seemed to observe him with intense +interest. “Master Nevile, attend this wise man; supply his wants, and +hark, in thy ear, watch well that he abstract nothing from the womb of +his engine; observe what he doeth; be all eyes.” Marmaduke bowed low to +conceal his change of countenance, and, stepping forward, made a sign to +Adam to follow him. + +“Go also, Catesby,” said Richard to his follower, who had taken his post +near him, “and clear the chamber.” + +As soon as the three members of the royal family were left alone, the +king, stretching himself, with a slight yawn, observed, “This man looks +not like a conspirator, brother Richard, though his sententiary as to +nature and science lacked loyalty and respect.” + +“Sire and brother,” answered Richard, “great leaders often dupe their +own tools; at least, meseemeth that they would reason well so to +do. Remember, I have told thee that there is strong cause to suppose +Margaret to be in London. In the suburbs of the city has also appeared, +within the last few weeks, that strange and dangerous person, whose very +objects are a mystery, save that he is our foe,--Robin of Redesdale. The +men of the North have exhibited a spirit of insurrection; a man of that +country attends this reputed wizard, and he himself was favoured in past +times by Henry of Windsor. These are ominous signs when the conjunctions +be considered!” + +“It is well said; but a fair day for breathing our palfrey is +half-spent!” returned the indolent prince. “By’r Lady! I like the +fashion of thy super-tunic well, Richard; but thou hast it too much +puffed over the shoulders.” + +Richard’s dark eye shot fire, and he gnawed his lip as he answered, “God +hath not given to me the fair shape of my kinsmen.” + +“Thy pardon, dear boy,” said Edward, kindly; “yet little needest thou +our broad backs and strong sinews, for thou hast a tongue to charm women +and a wit to command men.” + +Richard bowed his face, little less beautiful than his brother’s, +though wholly different from it in feature, for Edward had the long oval +countenance, the fair hair, the rich colouring, and the large outline +of his mother, the Rose of Raby. Richard, on the contrary, had the short +face, the dark brown locks, and the pale olive complexion of his father, +whom he alone of the royal brothers strikingly resembled. [Pol. Virg. +544.] + +The cheeks, too, were somewhat sunken, and already, though scarcely past +childhood, about his lips were seen the lines of thoughtful manhood. But +then those small features, delicately aquiline, were so regular; that +dark eye was so deep, so fathomless in its bright, musing intelligence; +that quivering lip was at once so beautifully formed and so expressive +of intellectual subtlety and haughty will; and that pale forehead was so +massive, high, and majestic,--that when, at a later period, the Scottish +prelate [Archibald Quhitlaw.--“Faciem tuam summo imperio principatu +dignam inspicit, quam moralis et heroica, virtus illustrat,” etc.--We +need scarcely observe that even a Scotchman would not have risked a +public compliment to Richard’s face, if so inappropriate as to seem a +sarcasm, especially as the orator immediately proceeds to notice the +shortness of Richard’s stature,--a comment not likely to have been +peculiarly acceptable in the Rous Roll, the portrait of Richard +represents him as undersized, but compactly and strongly built, and +without any sign of deformity, unless the inelegant defect of a short +neck can be so called.] commended Richard’s “princely countenance,” the +compliment was not one to be disputed, much less contemned. But now as +he rose, obedient to a whisper from the duchess, and followed her to the +window, while Edward appeared engaged in admiring the shape of his +own long, upturned shoes, those defects in his shape which the popular +hatred and the rise of the House of Tudor exaggerated into the absolute +deformity that the unexamining ignorance of modern days and Shakspeare’s +fiery tragedy have fixed into established caricature, were sufficiently +apparent. Deformed or hunchbacked we need scarcely say he was not, for +no man so disfigured could have possessed that great personal strength +which he invariably exhibited in battle, despite the comparative +slightness of his frame. He was considerably below the ordinary height, +which the great stature of his brother rendered yet more disadvantageous +by contrast; but his lower limbs were strong-jointed and muscular. +Though the back was not curved, yet one shoulder was slightly higher +than the other, which was the more observable from the evident pains +that he took to disguise it, and the gorgeous splendour, savouring of +personal coxcombry--from which no Plantagenet was ever free,--that +he exhibited in his dress. And as, in a warlike age, the physical +conformation of men is always critically regarded, so this defect and +that of his low stature were not so much redeemed as they would be in +our day by the beauty and intelligence of his face. Added to this, his +neck was short, and a habit of bending his head on his bosom (arising +either from thought, or the affectation of humility, which was a part of +his character) made it seem shorter still. But this peculiarity, while +taking from the grace, added to the strength of his frame, which, spare, +sinewy, and compact, showed to an observer that power of endurance, +that combination of solid stubbornness and active energy, which, at +the battle of Barnet, made him no less formidable to encounter than the +ruthless sword of the mighty Edward. + +“So, prince,” said the duchess, “this new gentleman of the king’s is, +it seems, a Nevile. When will Edward’s high spirit cast off that hateful +yoke?” + +Richard sighed and shook his head. The duchess, encouraged by these +signs of sympathy, continued,-- + +“Your brother Clarence, Prince Richard, despises us, to cringe to the +proud earl. But you--” + +“I am not suitor to the Lady Isabel; Clarence is overlavish, and Isabel +has a fair face and a queenly dowry.” + +“May I perish,” said the duchess, “ere Warwick’s daughter wears the +baudekin of royalty, and sits in as high a state as the queen’s mother! +Prince, I would fain confer with thee; we have a project to abase and +banish this hateful lord. If you but join us, success is sure; the Count +of Charolois--” + +“Dear lady,” interrupted Richard, with an air of profound humility, +“tell me nothing of plot or project; my years are too few for such high +and subtle policy; and the Lord Warwick hath been a leal friend to our +House of York.” + +The duchess bit her lip--“Yet I have heard you tell Edward that a +subject can be too powerful?” + +“Never, lady! you have never heard me.” + +“Then Edward has told Elizabeth that you so spoke.” + +“Ah,” said Richard, turning away with a smile, “I see that the king’s +conscience hath a discreet keeper. Pardon me, Edward, now that he hath +sufficiently surveyed his shoon, must marvel at this prolonged colloquy. +And see, the door opens.” + +With this, the duke slowly moved to the table, and resumed his seat. + +Marmaduke, full of fear for his ancient host, had in vain sought an +opportunity to address a few words of exhortation to him to forbear all +necromancy, and to abstain from all perilous distinctions between the +power of Edward IV. and that of his damnable Nature and Science; but +Catesby watched him with so feline a vigilance, that he was unable to +slip in more than--“Ah, Master Warner, for our blessed Lord’s sake, +recollect that rack and cord are more than mere words here!” To the +which pleasant remark, Adam, then busy in filling his miniature boiler, +only replied by a wistful stare, not in the least recognizing the Nevile +in his fine attire, and the new-fashioned mode of dressing his long +hair. + +But Catesby watched in vain for the abstraction of any treasonable +contents in the engine, which the Duke of Gloucester had so shrewdly +suspected. The truth must be told. Adam had entirely forgotten that in +the intricacies of his mechanical lurked the papers that might overthrow +a throne! Magnificent Incarnation was he (in that oblivion) of Science +itself, which cares not a jot for men and nations, in their ephemeral +existences; which only remembers THINGS,--things that endure for +ages; and in its stupendous calculations loses sight of the unit of a +generation! No, he had thoroughly forgotten Henry, Edward, his own limbs +and life,--not only York and Lancaster, but Adam Warner and the +rack. Grand in his forgetfulness, he stood before the tiger and the +tiger-cat,--Edward and--Richard,--A Pure Thought, a Man’s Soul; Science +fearless in the presence of Cruelty, Tyranny, Craft, and Power. + +In truth, now that Adam was thoroughly in his own sphere, was in the +domain of which he was king, and those beings in velvet and ermine were +but as ignorant savages admitted to the frontier of his realm, his form +seemed to dilate into a majesty the beholders had not before recognized; +and even the lazy Edward muttered involuntarily, “By my halidame, the +man has a noble presence!” + +“I am prepared now, sire,” said Adam, loftily, “to show to my king and +to this court, that, unnoticed and obscure, in study and retreat, often +live those men whom kings may be proud to call their subjects. Will it +please you, my lords, this way!” and he motioned so commandingly to the +room in which he had left the Eureka, that his audience rose by a common +impulse, and in another minute stood grouped round the model in the +adjoining chamber. This really wonderful invention--so wonderful, +indeed, that it will surpass the faith of those who do not pause to +consider what vast forestallments of modern science have been made and +lost in the darkness of ages not fitted to receive them--was, doubtless, +in many important details not yet adapted for the practical uses +to which Adam designed its application. But as a mere model, as a +marvellous essay, for the suggestion of gigantic results, it was, +perhaps, to the full as effective as the ingenuity of a mechanic of our +own day could construct. It is true that it was crowded with unnecessary +cylinders, slides, cocks, and wheals--hideous and clumsy to the eye--but +through this intricacy the great simple design accomplished its main +object. It contrived to show what force and skill man can obtain from +the alliance of nature; the more clearly, inasmuch as the mechanism +affixed to it, still more ingenious than itself, was well calculated to +illustrate practically one of the many uses to which the principle was +destined to be applied. + +Adam had not yet fathomed the secret by which to supply the miniature +cylinder with sufficient steam for any prolonged effect,--the great +truth of latent heat was unknown to him; but he had contrived to +regulate the supply of water so as to make the engine discharge +its duties sufficiently for the satisfaction of curiosity and the +explanation of its objects. And now this strange thing of iron was in +full life. From its serpent chimney issued the thick rapid smoke, and +the groan of its travail was heard within. + +“And what propose you to yourself and to the kingdom in all this, Master +Adam?” asked Edward, curiously bending his tall person over the tortured +iron. + +“I propose to make Nature the labourer of man,” answered Warner. “When I +was a child of some eight years old, I observed that water swelleth into +vapour when fire is applied to it. Twelve years afterwards, at the age +of twenty, I observed that while undergoing this change it exerts a +mighty mechanical force. At twenty-five, constantly musing, I said, ‘Why +should not that force become subject to man’s art?’ I then began the +first rude model, of which this is the descendant. I noticed that the +vapour so produced is elastic,--that is, that as it expands, it presses +against what opposes it; it has a force applicable everywhere force is +needed by man’s labour. Behold a second agency of gigantic resources! +And then, still studying this, I perceived that the vapour thus +produced can be reconverted into water, shrinking necessarily, while +so retransformed, from the space it filled as vapour, and leaving that +space a vacuum. But Nature abhors a vacuum; produce a vacuum, and +the bodies that surround rush into it. Thus, the vapour again, while +changing back into water, becomes also a force,--our agent. And all the +while these truths were shaping themselves to my mind, I was devising +and improving also the material form by which I might render them useful +to man; so at last, out of these truths, arose this invention!” + +“Pardie,” said Edward, with the haste natural to royalty, “what in +common there can be between thy jargon of smoke and water and this huge +ugliness of iron passeth all understanding. But spare us thy speeches, +and on to thy puppet-show.” + +Adam stared a moment at the king in the surprise that one full of his +subject feels when he sees it impossible to make another understand it, +sighed, shook his head, and prepared to begin. + +“Observe,” he said, “that there is no juggling, no deceit. I will place +in this deposit this small lump of brass--would the size of this toy +would admit of larger experiment! I will then pray ye to note, as I +open door after door, how the metal passes through various changes, +all operated by this one agency of vapour. Heed and attend. And if the +crowning work please thee, think, great king, what such an agency upon +the large scale would be to thee; think how it would multiply all arts +and lessen all labour; think that thou hast, in this, achieved for a +whole people the true philosopher’s stone. Now note!” + +He placed the rough ore in its receptacle, and suddenly it seemed seized +by a vice within, and vanished. He proceeded then, while dexterously +attending to the complex movements, to open door after door, to show +the astonished spectators the rapid transitions the metal underwent, +and suddenly, in the midst of his pride, he stopped short, for, like +a lightning-flash, came across his mind the remembrance of the fatal +papers. Within the next door he was to open, they lay concealed. His +change of countenance did not escape Richard, and he noted the door +which Adam forbore to open, as the student hurriedly, and with some +presence of mind, passed to the next, in which the metal was shortly to +appear. + +“Open this door,” said the prince, pointing to the handle. “No! forbear! +There is danger! forbear!” exclaimed the mechanician. + +“Danger to thine own neck, varlet and impostor!” exclaimed the duke; +and he was about himself to open the door, when suddenly a loud roar, a +terrific explosion was heard. Alas! Adam Warner had not yet discovered +for his engine what we now call the safety-valve. The steam contained +in the miniature boiler had acquired an undue pressure; Adam’s attention +had been too much engrossed to notice the signs of the growing increase, +and the rest may be easily conceived. Nothing could equal the stupor and +the horror of the spectators at this explosion, save only the boy-duke, +who remained immovable, and still frowning. All rushed to the door, +huddling one on the other, scarcely knowing what next was to befall +them, but certain that the wizard was bent upon their destruction. +Edward was the first to recover himself; and seeing that no lives were +lost, his first impulse was that of ungovernable rage. + +“Foul traitor!” he exclaimed, “was it for this that thou hast pretended +to beguile us with thy damnable sorceries? Seize him! Away to the Tower +Hill! and let the priest patter an ave while the doomsman knots the +rope.” + +Not a hand stirred; even Catesby would as lief have touched the king’s +lion before meals, as that poor mechanician, standing aghast, and +unheeding all, beside his mutilated engine. + +“Master Nevile,” said the king, sternly, “dost thou hear us? + +“Verily,” muttered the Nevile, approaching very slowly, “I knew what +would happen; but to lay hands on my host, an’ he were fifty times a +wizard--No! My liege,” he said in a firm tone, but falling on his +knee, and his gallant countenance pale with generous terror, “my liege, +forgive me. This man succoured me when struck down and wounded by +a Lancastrian ruffian; this man gave me shelter, food, and healing. +Command me not, O gracious my lord, to aid in taking the life of one to +whom I owe my own.” + +“His life!” exclaimed the Duchess of Bedford,--“the life of this most +illustrious person! Sire, you do not dream it!” + +“Heh! by the saints, what now?” cried the king, whose choler, though +fierce and ruthless, was as short-lived as the passions of the indolent +usually are, and whom the earnest interposition of his mother-in-law +much surprised and diverted. “If, fair belle-mere, thou thinkest it so +illustrious a deed to frighten us out of our mortal senses, and narrowly +to ‘scape sending us across the river like a bevy of balls from a +bombard, there is no disputing of tastes. Rise up, Master Nevile, +we esteem thee not less for thy boldness; ever be the host and the +benefactor revered by English gentlemen and Christian youth. Master +Warner may go free.” + +Here Warner uttered so deep and hollow a groan, that it startled all +present. + +“Twenty-five years of labour, and not to have seen this!” he ejaculated. +“Twenty and five years, and all wasted! How repair this disaster? O +fatal day!” + +“What says he? What means he?” said Jacquetta. + +“Come home!--home!” said Marmaduke, approaching the philosopher, in +great alarm lest he should once more jeopardize his life. But Adam, +shaking him off, began eagerly, and with tremulous hands, to examine the +machine, and not perceiving any mode by which to guard in future against +a danger that he saw at once would, if not removed, render his invention +useless, tottered to a chair and covered his face with his hands. + +“He seemeth mightily grieved that our bones are still whole!” muttered +Edward. “And why, belle-mere mine, wouldst thou protect this pleasant +tregetour?” + +“What!” said the duchess, “see you not that a man capable of such +devices must be of doughty service against our foes?” + +“Not I. How?” + +“Why, if merely to signify his displeasure at our young Richard’s +over-curious meddling, he can cause this strange engine to shake the +walls,--nay, to destroy itself,--think what he might do were his power +and malice at our disposing. I know something of these nigromancers.” + +“And would you knew less! for already the commons murmur at your favour +to them. But be it as you will. And now--ho, there! let our steeds be +caparisoned.” + +“You forget, sire,” said Richard, who had hitherto silently watched +the various parties, “the object for which we summoned this worthy man. +Please you now, sir, to open that door.” + +“No, no!” exclaimed the king, hastily, “I will have no more provoking +the foul fiend; conspirator or not, I have had enough of Master Warner. +Pah! My poor placard is turned lampblack. Sweet mother-in-law, take him +under thy protection; and Richard, come with me.” + +So saying, the king linked his arm in that of the reluctant Gloucester, +and quitted the room. The duchess then ordered the rest also to depart, +and was left alone with the crest-fallen philosopher. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. MY LADY DUCHESS’S OPINION OF THE UTILITY OF MASTER WARNER’S +INVENTION, AND HER ESTEEM FOR ITS--EXPLOSION. + +Adam, utterly unheeding, or rather deaf to, the discussion that had +taken place, and his narrow escape from cord and gibbet, lifted his +head peevishly from his bosom, as the duchess rested her hand almost +caressingly on his shoulder, and thus addressed him,-- + +“Most puissant Sir, think not that I am one of those who, in their +ignorance and folly, slight the mysteries of which thou art clearly so +great a master. When I heard thee speak of subjecting Nature to Man, I +at once comprehended thee, and blushed for the dulness of my kindred.” + +“Ah, lady, thou hast studied, then, the mathematics. Alack! this is a +grievous blow; but it is no inherent fault in the device. I am clearly +of mind that it can be remedied. But oh! what time, what thought, what +sleepless nights, what gold will be needed!” + +“Give me thy sleepless nights and thy grand thoughts, and thou shalt not +want gold.” + +“Lady,” cried Adam, starting to his feet, “do I hear aright? Art thou, +in truth, the patron I have so long dreamed of? Hast thou the brain and +the heart to aid the pursuits of science?” + +“Ay! and the power to protect the students! Sage, I am the Duchess of +Bedford, whom men accuse of witchcraft,--as thee of wizardy. From the +wife of a private gentleman, I have become the mother of a queen. I +stand amidst a court full of foes; I desire gold to corrupt, and wisdom +to guard against, and means to destroy them. And I seek all these in men +like thee!” + +Adam turned on her his bewildered eyes, and made no answer. + +“They tell me,” said the duchess, “that Henry of Windsor employed +learned men to transmute the baser metals into gold. Wert thou one of +them?” + +“No.” + +“Thou knowest that art?” + +“I studied it in my youth, but the ingredients of the crucible were too +costly.” + +“Thou shalt not lack them with me. Thou knowest the lore of the stars, +and canst foretell the designs of enemies,--the hour whether to act or +to forbear?” + +“Astrology I have studied, but that also was in youth; for there +dwelleth in the pure mathematics that have led me to this invention--” + +“Truce with that invention, whatever it be; think of it no more,--it +has served its end in the explosion, which proved thy power of mischief. +High objects are now before thee. Wilt thou be of my household, one of +my alchemists and astrologers? Thou shalt have leisure, honour, and all +the moneys thou canst need.” + +“Moneys!” said Adam, eagerly, and casting his eyes upon the mangled +model. “Well, I agree; what you will,--alchemist, astrologist, +wizard,--what you will. This shall all be repaired,--all; I begin to +see now, all! I begin to see; yes, if a pipe by which the too-excessive +vapour could--ay, ay!--right, right,” and he rubbed his hands. + +Jacquetta was struck with his enthusiasm. “But surely, Master Warner, +this has some virtue you have not vouchsafed to explain; confide in me, +can it change iron to gold?” + +“No; but--” + +“Can it predict the future?” + +“No; but--” + +“Can it prolong life?” + +“No; but--” + +“Then, in God’s name let us waste no more time about it!” said the +duchess, impatiently,--“your art is mine now. Ho, there!--I will send +my page to conduct thee to thy apartments, and thou shalt lodge next +to Friar Bungey, a man of wondrous lere, Master Warner, and a worthy +confrere in thy researches. Hast thou any one of kith and kin at home to +whom thou wilt announce thy advancement?” + +“Ah, lady! Heaven forgive me, I have a daughter,--an only child,--my +Sibyll; I cannot leave her alone, and--” + +“Well, nothing should distract thy cares from thine art,--she shall be +sent for. I will rank her amongst my maidens. Fare-thee-well, Master +Warner! At night I will send for thee, and appoint the tasks I would +have thee accomplish.” + +So saying, the duchess quitted the room, and left Adam alone, bending +over his model in deep revery. + +From this absorption it was the poor man’s fate to be again aroused. + +The peculiar character of the boy-prince of Gloucester was that of one +who, having once seized upon an object, never willingly relinquished it. +First, he crept and slid and coiled round it as the snake. But if craft +failed, his passion, roused by resistance, sprang at his prey with +a lion’s leap: and whoever examines the career of this extraordinary +personage, will perceive, that whatever might be his habitual hypocrisy, +he seemed to lose sight of it wholly when once resolved upon force. Then +the naked ferocity with which the destructive propensity swept away +the objects in his path becomes fearfully and startlingly apparent, and +offers a strange contrast to the wily duplicity with which, in calmer +moments, he seems to have sought to coax the victim into his folds. +Firmly convinced that Adam’s engine had been made the medium of +dangerous and treasonable correspondence with the royal prisoner, and of +that suspicious, restless, feverish temperament which never slept when +a fear was wakened, a doubt conceived, he had broke from his brother, +whose more open valour and less unquiet intellect were ever willing to +leave the crown defended but by the gibbet for the detected traitor, +the sword for the declared foe; and obtaining Edward’s permission “to +inquire further into these strange matters,” he sent at once for the +porter who had conveyed the model to the Tower; but that suspicious +accomplice was gone. The sound of the explosion of the engine had no +less startled the guard below than the spectators above. Releasing +their hold of their prisoner, they had some taken fairly to their heels, +others rushed into the palace to learn what mischief had ensued; and +Hugh, with the quick discretion of his north country, had not lost so +favourable an opportunity for escape. There stood the dozing mule at the +door below, but the guide was vanished. More confirmed in his suspicions +by this disappearance of Adam’s companion, Richard, giving some +preparatory orders to Catesby, turned at once to the room which still +held the philosopher and his device. He closed the door on entering, and +his brow was dark and sinister as he approached the musing inmate. But +here we must return to Sibyll. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. THE OLD WOMAN TALKS OF SORROWS, THE YOUNG WOMAN DREAMS +OF LOVE; THE COURTIER FLIES FROM PRESENT POWER TO REMEMBRANCES OF PAST +HOPES, AND THE WORLD-BETTERED OPENS UTOPIA, WITH A VIEW OF THE GIBBET +FOR THE SILLY SAGE HE HAS SEDUCED INTO HIS SCHEMES,--SO, EVER AND +EVERMORE, RUNS THE WORLD AWAY! + +The old lady looked up from her embroidery-frame, as Sibyll sat musing +on a stool before her; she scanned the maiden with a wistful and +somewhat melancholy eye. + +“Fair girl,” she said, breaking a silence that had lasted for some +moments, “it seems to me that I have seen thy face before. Wert thou +never in Queen Margaret’s court?” + +“In childhood, yes, lady.” + +“Do you not remember me, the dame of Longueville?” Sibyll started in +surprise, and gazed long before she recognized the features of her +hostess; for the dame of Longueville had been still, when Sibyll was +a child at the court, renowned for matronly beauty, and the change +was greater than the lapse of years could account for. The lady smiled +sadly: “Yes, you marvel to see me thus bent and faded. Maiden, I lost my +husband at the battle of St. Alban’s, and my three sons in the field of +Towton. My lands and my wealth have been confiscated to enrich new men; +and to one of them--one of the enemies of the only king whom Alice de +Longueville will acknowledge--I owe the food for my board and the roof +for my head. Do you marvel now that I am so changed?” + +Sibyll rose and kissed the lady’s hand, and the tear that sparkled on +its surface was her only answer. + +“I learn,” said the dame of Longueville, “that your father has an order +from the Lord Hastings to see King Henry. I trust that he will rest here +as he returns, to tell me how the monarch-saint bears his afflictions. +But I know: his example should console us all.” She paused a moment, and +resumed, “Sees your father much of the Lord Hastings?” + +“He never saw him that I weet of,” answered Sibyll, blushing; “the order +was given, but as of usual form to a learned scholar.” + +“But given to whom?” persisted the lady. “To--to me,” replied Sibyll, +falteringly. The dame of Longueville smiled. + +“Ah, Hastings could scarcely say no to a prayer from such rosy lips. But +let me not imply aught to disparage his humane and gracious heart. To +Lord Hastings, next to God and his saints, I owe all that is left to +me on earth. Strange that he is not yet here! This is the usual day and +hour on which he comes, from pomp and pleasurement, to visit the lonely +widow.” And, pleased to find an attentive listener to her grateful +loquacity, the dame then proceeded, with warm eulogies upon her +protector, to inform Sibyll that her husband had, in the first outbreak +of the Civil War, chanced to capture Hastings, and, moved by his valour +and youth, and some old connections with his father, Sir Leonard, had +favoured his escape from the certain death that awaited him from the +wrath of the relentless Margaret. After the field of Towton, Hastings +had accepted one of the manors confiscated from the attainted House of +Longueville, solely that he might restore it to the widow of the +fallen lord; and with a chivalrous consideration, not contented with +beneficence, he omitted no occasion to show to the noblewoman whatever +homage and respect might soothe the pride, which, in the poverty of +those who have been great, becomes disease. The loyalty of the Lady +Longueville was carried to a sentiment most rare in that day, and rather +resembling the devotion inspired by the later Stuarts. She made her home +within the precincts of the Tower, that, morning and eve, when Henry +opened his lattice to greet the rising and the setting sun, she might +catch a dim and distant glance of the captive king, or animate, by that +sad sight, the hopes and courage of the Lancastrian emissaries, to whom, +fearless of danger, she scrupled not to give counsel, and, at need, +asylum. + +While Sibyll, with enchanted sense, was listening to the praise of +Hastings, a low knock at the door was succeeded by the entrance of that +nobleman himself. Not to Elizabeth, in the alcoves of Shene, or on +the dais of the palace hall, did the graceful courtier bend with more +respectful reverence than to the powerless widow, whose very bread was +his alms; for the true high-breeding of chivalry exists not without +delicacy of feeling, formed originally by warmth of heart; and though +the warmth may lose its glow, the delicacy endures, as the steel that +acquires through heat its polish retains its lustre, even when the shine +but betrays the hardness. + +“And how fares my noble lady of Longueville? But need I ask? for her +cheek still wears the rose of Lancaster. A companion? Ha! Mistress +Warner, I learn now how much pleasure exists in surprise!” + +“My young visitor,” said the dame, “is but an old friend; she was one of +the child-maidens reared at the court of Queen Margaret.” + +“In sooth!” exclaimed Hastings; and then, in an altered tone, he added, +“but I should have guessed so much grace had not come all from Nature. +And your father has gone to see the Lord Henry, and you rest, here, +his return? Ah, noble lady, may you harbour always such innocent +Lancastrians!” The fascinations of this eminent person’s voice and +manner were such that they soon restored Sibyll, to the ease she had +lost at his sudden entrance. He conversed gayly with the old dame upon +such matters of court anecdote as in all the changes of state were still +welcome to one so long accustomed to court air; but from time to time +he addressed himself to Sibyll, and provoked replies which startled +herself--for she was not yet well aware of her own gifts--by their +spirit and intelligence. + +“You do not tell us,” said the Lady Longueville, sarcastically, “of the +happy spousailles of Elizabeth’s brother with the Duchess of Norfolk,--a +bachelor of twenty, a bride of some eighty-two. [The old chronicler +justly calls this a “diabolical marriage.” It greatly roused the wrath +of the nobles and indeed of all honourable men, as a proof of the +shameless avarice of the queen’s family.] Verily, these alliances are +new things in the history of English royalty. But when Edward, who, even +if not a rightful king, is at least a born Plantagenet, condescended to +marry Mistress Elizabeth, a born Woodville, scarce of good gentleman’s +blood, naught else seems strange enough to provoke marvel.” + +“As to the last matter,” returned Hastings, gravely, “though her grace +the queen be no warm friend to me, I must needs become her champion and +the king’s. The lady who refused the dishonouring suit of the fairest +prince and the boldest knight in the Christian world thereby made +herself worthy of the suit that honoured her; it was not Elizabeth +Woodville alone that won the purple. On the day she mounted a throne, +the chastity of woman herself was crowned.” + +“What!” said the Lady Longueville, angrily, “mean you to say that there +is no disgrace in the mal-alliance of kite and falcon, of Plantagenet +and Woodville, of high-born and mud-descended?” + +“You forget, lady, that the widow of Henry the Fifth, Catherine of +Valois, a king’s daughter, married the Welsh soldier, Owen Tudor; that +all England teems with brave men born from similar spousailles, where +love has levelled all distinctions, and made a purer hearth, and raised +a bolder offspring, than the lukewarm likings of hearts that beat but +for lands and gold. Wherefore, lady, appeal not to me, a squire of +dames, a believer in the old Parliament of Love; whoever is fair and +chaste, gentle and loving, is, in the eyes of William de Hastings, the +mate and equal of a king!” + +Sibyll turned involuntarily as the courtier spoke thus, with animation +in his voice, and fire in his eyes; she turned, and her breath came +quick; she turned, and her look met his, and those words and that look +sank deep into her heart; they called forth brilliant and ambitious +dreams; they rooted the growing love, but they aided to make it holy; +they gave to the delicious fancy what before it had not paused, on its +wing, to sigh for; they gave it that without which all fancy sooner or +later dies; they gave it that which, once received in a noble heart, is +the excuse for untiring faith; they gave it,--HOPE! + +“And thou wouldst say,” replied the lady of Longueville, with a meaning +smile, still more emphatically--“thou wouldst say that a youth, brave +and well nurtured, ambitious and loving, ought, in the eyes of rank and +pride, to be the mate and equal of--” + +“Ah, noble dame,” interrupted Hastings, quickly, “I must not prolong +encounter with so sharp a wit. Let me leave that answer to this fair +maiden, for by rights it is a challenge to her sex, not to mine.” + +“How say you, then, Mistress Warner?” said the dame. “Suppose a young +heiress, of the loftiest birth, of the broadest lands, of the comeliest +form--suppose her wooed by a gentleman poor and stationless, but with +a mighty soul, born to achieve greatness, would she lower herself by +hearkening to his suit?” + +“A maiden, methinks,” answered Sibyll, with reluctant but charming +hesitation, “cannot love truly if she love unworthily; and if she love +worthily, it is not rank nor wealth she loves.” + +“But her parents, sweet mistress, may deem differently; and should not +her love refuse submission to their tyranny?” asked Hastings. + +“Nay, good my lord, nay,” returned Sibyll, shaking her head with +thoughtful demureness. “Surely the wooer, if he love worthily, will not +press her to the curse of a child’s disobedience and a parent’s wrath!” + +“Shrewdly answered,” said the dame of Longueville. “Then she would +renounce the poor gentleman if the parent ordain her to marry a rich +lord. Ah, you hesitate, for a woman’s ambition is pleased with the +excuse of a child’s obedience.” + +Hastings said this so bitterly that Sibyll could not but perceive that +some personal feeling gave significance to his words. Yet how could they +be applied to him,--to one now in rank and repute equal to the highest +below the throne? + +“If the demoiselle should so choose,” said the dame of Longueville, “it +seemeth to me that the rejected suitor might find it facile to disdain +and to forget.” + +Hastings made no reply; but that remarkable and deep shade of melancholy +which sometimes in his gayest hours startled those who beheld it, and +which had, perhaps, induced many of the prophecies that circulated as +to the untimely and violent death that should close his bright career, +gathered like a cloud over his brow. At this moment the door opened +gently, and Robert Hilyard stood at the aperture. He was clad in the +dress of a friar, but the raised cowl showed his features to the lady of +Longueville, to whom alone he was visible; and those bold features were +literally haggard with agitation and alarm. He lifted his finger to his +lips, and motioning the lady to follow him, closed the door. + +The dame of Longueville rose, and praying her visitors to excuse her +absence for a few moments, she left Hastings and Sibyll to themselves. + +“Lady,” said Hilyard, in a hollow whisper, as soon as the dame appeared +in the low hall, communicating on the one hand with the room just left, +on the other with the street, “I fear all will be detected. Hush! +Adam and the iron coffer that contains the precious papers have been +conducted to Edward’s presence. A terrible explosion, possibly connected +with the contrivance, caused such confusion among the guards that Hugh +escaped to scare me with his news. Stationed near the gate in this +disguise, I ventured to enter the courtyard, and saw--saw--the +TORMENTOR! the torturer, the hideous, masked minister of agony, led +towards the chambers in which our hapless messenger is examined by the +ruthless tyrants. Gloucester, the lynx-eyed mannikin, is there!” + +“O Margaret, my queen,” exclaimed the lady of Longueville, “the papers +will reveal her whereabout.” + +“No, she is safe!” returned Hilyard; “but thy poor scholar, I tremble +for him, and for the heads of all whom the papers name.” + +“What can be done! Ha! Lord Hastings is here,--he is ever humane and +pitiful. Dare we confide in him?” + +A bright gleam shot over Hilyard’s face. “Yes, yes; let me confer with +him alone. I wait him here,--quick!” The lady hastened back. Hastings +was conversing in a low voice with Sibyll. The dame of Longueville +whispered in the courtier’s ear, drew him into the hall, and left him +alone with the false friar, who had drawn the cowl over his face. + +“Lord Hastings,” said Hilyard, speaking rapidly, “you are in danger, +if not of loss of life, of loss of favour. You gave a passport to +one Warner to see the ex-king Henry. Warner’s simplicity (for he is +innocent) hath been duped,--he is made the bearer of secret intelligence +from the unhappy gentlemen who still cling to the Lancaster cause. He is +suspected, he is examined; he may be questioned by the torture. If the +treason be discovered, it was thy hand that signed the passport; the +queen, thou knowest, hates thee, the Woodvilles thirst for thy downfall. +What handle may this give them! Fly! my lord,--fly to the Tower; thou +mayst yet be in time; thy wit can screen all that may otherwise be bare. +Save this poor scholar, conceal this correspondence. Hark ye, lord! +frown not so haughtily,--that correspondence names thee as one who hast +taken the gold of Count Charolois, and whom, therefore, King Louis may +outbuy. Look to thyself!” + +A slight blush passed over the pale brow of the great statesman, but he +answered with a steady voice, “Friar or layman, I care not which, the +gold of the heir of Burgundy was a gift, not a bribe. But I need no +threats to save, if not too late, from rack and gibbet the life of a +guiltless man. I am gone. Hold! bid the maiden, the scholar’s daughter, +follow me to the Tower.” + + + + +CHAPTER IX. HOW THE DESTRUCTIVE ORGAN OF PRINCE RICHARD PROMISES GOODLY +DEVELOPMENT. + +The Duke of Gloucester approached Adam as he stood gazing on his model. +“Old man,” said the prince, touching him with the point of his sheathed +dagger, “look up and answer. What converse hast thou held with Henry +of Windsor, and who commissioned thee to visit him in his confinement? +Speak, and the truth! for by holy Paul, I am one who can detect a lie, +and without that door stands--the Tormentor!” + +Upon a pleasing and joyous dream broke these harsh words; for Adam then +was full of the contrivance by which to repair the defect of the engine, +and with this suggestion was blent confusedly the thought that he was +now protected by royalty, that he should have means and leisure to +accomplish his great design, that he should have friends whose power +could obtain its adoption by the king. He raised his eyes, and that +young dark face frowned upon him,--the child menacing the sage, brute +force in a pigmy shape, having authority of life and death over the +giant strength of genius. But these words, which recalled Warner from +his existence as philosopher, woke that of the gentle but brave and +honourable man which he was, when reduced to earth. + +“Sir,” he said gravely, “if I have consented to hold converse with the +unhappy, it was not as the tell-tale and the spier. I had formal warrant +for my visit, and I was solicited to render it by an early friend and +comrade, who sought to be my benefactor in aiding with gold my poor +studies for the king’s people.” + +“Tut!” said Richard, impatiently, and playing with his dagger hilt; “thy +words, stealthy and evasive, prove thy guilt! Sure am I that this iron +traitor with its intricate hollows and recesses holds what, unless +confessed, will give thee to the hangman! Confess all, and thou art +spared.” + +“If,” said Adam, mildly, “your Highness--for though I know not your +quality, I opine that no one less than royal could so menace--if your +Highness imagines that I have been intrusted by a fallen man, wrong +me not by supposing that I could fear death more than dishonour; for +certes!” continued Adam, with innocent pedantry, “to put the case +scholastically, and in the logic familiar, doubtless, to your Highness, +either I have something to confess or I have not; if I have--” + +“Hound!” interrupted the prince, stamping his foot, “thinkest thou to +banter me,--see!” As his foot shook the floor, the door opened, and a +man with his arms bare, covered from head to foot in a black gown of +serge, with his features concealed by a hideous mask, stood ominously at +the aperture. + +The prince motioned to the torturer (or tormentor, as he was technically +styled) to approach, which he did noiselessly, till he stood, tall, +grim, and lowering, beside Adam, like some silent and devouring monster +by its prey. + +“Dost thou repent thy contumacy? A moment, and I render my questioning +to another!” + +“Sir,” said Adam, drawing himself up, and with so sudden a change of +mien, that his loftiness almost awed even the dauntless Richard,--“sir, +my fathers feared not death when they did battle for the throne of +England; and why?--because in their loyal valour they placed not the +interests of a mortal man, but the cause of imperishable honour! And +though their son be a poor scholar, and wears not the spurs of gold; +though his frame be weak and his hairs gray, he loveth honour also well +eno’ to look without dread on death!” + +Fierce and ruthless, when irritated and opposed, as the prince was, he +was still in his first youth,--ambition had here no motive to harden +him into stone. He was naturally so brave himself that bravery could not +fail to win from him something of respect and sympathy, and he was taken +wholly by surprise in hearing the language of a knight and hero from +one whom he had regarded but as the artful impostor or the despicable +intriguer. + +He changed countenance as Warner spoke, and remained a moment silent. +Then as a thought occurred to him, at which his features relaxed into +a half-smile, he beckoned to the tormentor, said a word in his ear, and +the horrible intruder nodded and withdrew. + +“Master Warner,” then said the prince, in his customary sweet and +gliding tones, “it were a pity that so gallant a gentleman should be +exposed to peril for adhesion to a cause that can never prosper, and +that would be fatal, could it prosper, to our common country. For look +you, this Margaret, who is now, we believe, in London” (here he examined +Adam’s countenance, which evinced surprise), “this Margaret, who is +seeking to rekindle the brand and brennen of civil war, has already sold +for base gold to the enemy of the realm, to Louis XI., that very Calais +which your fathers, doubtless, lavished their blood to annex to our +possessions. Shame on the lewd harlot! What woman so bloody and so +dissolute? What man so feeble and craven as her lord?” + +“Alas! sir,” said Adam, “I am unfitted for these high considerations of +state. I live but for my art, and in it. And now, behold how my kingdom +is shaken and rent!” he pointed with so touching a smile, and so simple +a sadness, to the broken engine, that Richard was moved. + +“Thou lovest this, thy toy? I can comprehend that love for some +dumb thing that we have toiled for. Ay!” continued the prince, +thoughtfully,--“ay! I have noted myself in life that there are objects, +senseless as that mould of iron, which if we labour at them wind round +our hearts as if they were flesh and blood. So some men love learning, +others glory, others power. Well, man, thou lovest that mechanical? How +many years hast thou been about it?” + +“From the first to the last, twenty-five years, and it is still +incomplete.” + +“Um!” said the prince, smiling, “Master Warner, thou hast read of the +judgment of Solomon,--how the wise king discovered the truth by ordering +the child’s death?” + +“It was indeed,” said Adam, unsuspectingly, “a most shrewd suggestion of +native wit and clerkly wisdom.” + +“Glad am I thou approvest it, Master Warner,” said Richard. And as he +spoke the tormentor reappeared with a smith, armed with the implements +of his trade. + +“Good smith, break into pieces this stubborn iron; bare all its +receptacles; leave not one fragment standing on the other! ‘Delenda est +tua Carthago,’ Master Warner. There is Latin in answer to thy logic.” + +It is impossible to convey any notion of the terror, the rage, the +despair, which seized upon the unhappy sage when these words smote his +ear, and he saw the smith’s brawny arms swing on high the ponderous +hammer. He flung himself between the murderous stroke and his beloved +model. He embraced the grim iron tightly. “Kill me!” he exclaimed +sublimely, “kill me!--not my THOUGHT!” + +“Solomon was verily and indeed a wise king,” said the duke, with a low +inward laugh. “And now, man, I have thee! To save thy infant, thine +art’s hideous infant, confess the whole!” + +It was then that a fierce struggle evidently took place in Adam’s bosom. +It was, perhaps--O reader! thou whom pleasure, love, ambition, hatred, +avarice, in thine and our ordinary existence, tempt--it was, perhaps, to +him the one arch-temptation of a life. In the changing countenance, the +heaving breast, the trembling lip, the eyes that closed and opened to +close again, as if to shut out the unworthy weakness,--yea, in the whole +physical man,--was seen the crisis of the moral struggle. And what, in +truth, to him an Edward or a Henry, a Lancaster or a York? Nothing. But +still that instinct, that principle, that conscience, ever strongest in +those whose eyes are accustomed to the search of truth, prevailed. So +he rose suddenly and quietly, drew himself apart, left his work to the +Destroyer, and said,-- + +“Prince, thou art a boy! Let a boy’s voice annihilate that which should +have served all time. Strike!” + +Richard motioned; the hammer descended, the engine and its appurtenances +reeled and crashed, the doors flew open, the wheels rattled, the sparks +flew. And Adam Warner fell to the ground, as if the blow had broken his +own heart. Little heeding the insensible victim of his hard and cunning +policy, Richard advanced to the inspection of the interior recesses of +the machinery. But that which promised Adam’s destruction saved him. The +heavy stroke had battered in the receptacle of the documents, had +buried them in the layers of iron. The faithful Eureka, even amidst its +injuries and wrecks, preserved the secret of its master. + +The prince, with impatient hands, explored all the apertures yet +revealed, and after wasting many minutes in a fruitless search, was +about to bid the smith complete the work of destruction, when the door +suddenly opened and Lord Hastings entered. His quick eye took in the +whole scene; he arrested the lifted arm of the smith, and passing +deliberately to Gloucester, said, with a profound reverence, but a +half-reproachful smile, “My lord! my lord! your Highness is indeed +severe upon my poor scholar.” + +“Canst thou answer for thy scholar’s loyalty?” said the duke, gloomily. + +Hastings drew the prince aside, and said, in a low tone, “His loyalty! +poor man, I know not; but his guilelessness, surely, yes. Look you, +sweet prince, I know the interest thou hast in keeping well with the +Earl of Warwick, whom I, in sooth, have slight cause to love. Thou hast +trusted me with thy young hopes of the Lady Anne; this new Nevile placed +about the king, and whose fortunes Warwick hath made his care, hath, +I have reason to think, some love passages with the scholar’s +daughter,--the daughter came to me for the passport. Shall this +Marmaduke Nevile have it to say to his fair kinswoman, with the +unforgiving malice of a lover’s memory, that the princely Gloucester +stooped to be the torturer of yon poor old man? If there be treason in +the scholar or in yon battered craft-work, leave the search to me!” + +The duke raised his dark, penetrating eyes to those of Hastings, which +did not quail; for here world-genius encountered world-genius, and art, +art. + +“Thine argument hath more subtlety and circumlocution than suit with +simple truth,” said the prince, smiling. “But it is enough to Richard +that Hastings wills protection even to a spy!” + +Hastings kissed the duke’s hand in silence, and going to the door, he +disappeared a moment and returned with Sibyll. As she entered, pale and +trembling, Adam rose, and the girl with a wild cry flew to his bosom. + +“It is a winsome face, Hastings,” said the duke, dryly. “I pity Master +Nevile the lover, and envy my Lord Chamberlain the protector.” + +Hastings laughed, for he was well pleased that Richard’s suspicion took +that turn. + +“And now,” he said, “I suppose Master Nevile and the Duchess of +Bedford’s page may enter. Your guard stopped them hitherto. They come +for this gentleman from her highness the queen’s mother.” + +“Enter, Master Nevile, and you, Sir Page. What is your errand?” + +“My lady, the duchess,” said the page, “has sent me to conduct Master +Warner to the apartments prepared for him as her special multiplier and +alchemist.” + +“What!” said the prince, who, unlike the irritable Clarence, made it +his policy to show all decorous homage to the queen’s kin, “hath that +illustrious lady taken this gentleman into her service? Why announced +you not, Master Warner, what at once had saved you from further +questioning? Lord Hastings, I thank you now for your intercession.” + +Hastings, in answer, pointed archly at Marmaduke, who was aiding Sibyll +to support her father. “Do you suspect me still, prince?” he whispered. + +The duke shrugged his shoulders, and Adam, breaking from Marmaduke +and Sibyll, passed with tottering steps to the shattered labour of his +solitary life. He looked at the ruin with mournful despondence, with +quivering lips. “Have you done with me?” then he said, bowing his head +lowlily, for his pride was gone; “may we--that is, I and this, my poor +device--withdraw from your palace? I see we are not fit for kings!” + +“Say not so,” said the young duke, gently: “we have now convinced +ourselves of our error, and I crave thy pardon, Master Warner, for my +harsh dealings. As for this, thy toy, the king’s workmen shall set it +right for thee. Smith, call the fellows yonder, to help bear this to--” + He paused, and glanced at Hastings. + +“To my apartments,” said the chamberlain. “Your Highness may be sure +that I will there inspect it. Fear not, Master Warner; no further harm +shall chance to thy contrivance.” + +“Come, sir, forgive me,” said the duke. With gracious affability the +young prince held out his hand, the fingers of which sparkled with +costly gems, to the old man. The old man bowed as if his beard would +have swept the earth, but he did not touch the hand. He seemed still in +a state between dream and reason, life and death: he moved not, spoke +not, till the men came to bear the model; and he then followed it, his +arms folded in his gown, till, on entering the court, it was borne in +a contrary direction from his own, to the chamberlain’s apartment; then +wistfully pursuing it with his eyes, he uttered such a sigh as might +have come from a resigned father losing the last glimpse of a beloved +son. + +Richard hesitated a moment, loth to relinquish his research, and +doubtful whether to follow the Eureka for renewed investigation; but +partly unwilling to compromise his dignity in the eyes of Hastings, +should his suspicions prove unfounded, and partly indisposed to risk the +displeasure of the vindictive Duchess of Bedford by further molestation +of one now under her protection, he reluctantly trusted all further +inquiry to the well-known loyalty of Hastings. “If Margaret be in +London,” he muttered to himself as he turned slowly away, “now is the +time to seize and chain the lioness! Ho, Catesby,--hither (a +valuable man that Catesby--a lawyer’s nurturing with a bloodhound’s +nature!)--Catesby, while King Edward rides for pleasure, let thou and +I track the scent of his foes. If the she-wolf of Anjou hath ventured +hither, she hides in some convent or monastery, be sure. See to our +palfreys, Catesby! Strange,” added the prince, muttering to himself, +“that I am more restless to guard the crown than he who wears it! Nay, +a crown is a goodly heirloom in a man’s family, and a fair sight to see +near--and near--and near--” + +The prince abruptly paused, opened and shut his right hand convulsively, +and drew a long sigh. + + + + +BOOK IV. INTRIGUES OF THE COURT OF EDWARD IV. + + +CHAPTER I. MARGARET OF ANJOU. + +The day after the events recorded in the last section of this narrative, +and about the hour of noon, Robert Hilyard (still in the reverend +disguise in which he had accosted Hastings) bent his way through the +labyrinth of alleys that wound in dingy confusion from the Chepe towards +the river. + +The purlieus of the Thames, in that day of ineffective police, sheltered +many who either lived upon plunder, or sought abodes that proffered, at +alarm, the facility of flight. Here, sauntering in twos or threes, or +lazily reclined by the threshold of plaster huts, might be seen that +refuse population which is the unholy offspring of civil war,--disbanded +soldiers of either Rose, too inured to violence and strife for peaceful +employment, and ready for any enterprise by which keen steel wins bright +gold. At length our friend stopped before the gate of a small house, on +the very marge of the river, which belonged to one of the many religious +orders then existing; but from its site and aspect denoted the poverty +seldom their characteristic. Here he knocked; the door was opened by a +lay-brother; a sign and a smile were interchanged, and the visitor was +ushered into a room belonging to the superior, but given up for the last +few days to a foreign priest, to whom the whole community appeared to +consider the reverence of a saint was due. And yet this priest, who, +seated alone, by a casement which commanded a partial view of the +distant Tower of London, received the conspirator, was clad in the +humblest serge. His face was smooth and delicate; and the animation of +the aspect, the vehement impatience of the gesture, evinced little of +the holy calm that should belong to those who have relinquished the +affairs of earth for meditation on the things of heaven. To this +personage the sturdy Hilyard bowed his manly knees; and casting himself +at the priest’s feet, his eyes, his countenance, changed from their +customary hardihood and recklessness into an expression at once of +reverence and of pity. + +“Well, man--well, friend--good friend, tried and leal friend, speak! +speak!” exclaimed the priest, in an accent that plainly revealed a +foreign birth. + +“Oh, gracious lady! all hope is over; I come but to bid you fly. Adam +Warner was brought before the usurper; he escaped, indeed, the torture, +and was faithful to the trust. But the papers--the secret of the +rising--are in the hands of Hastings.” + +“How long, O Lord,” said Margaret of Anjou, for she it was, under that +reverend disguise, “how long wilt Thou delay the hour of triumph and +revenge?” + +The princess as she spoke had suffered her hood to fall back, and +her pale, commanding countenance, so well fitted to express fiery and +terrible emotion, wore that aspect in which many a sentenced man had +read his doom,--an aspect the more fearful, inasmuch as the passion that +pervaded it did not distort the features, but left them locked, rigid, +and marble-like in beauty, as the head of the Medusa. + +“The day will dawn at last,” said Hilyard; “but the judgments of Heaven +are slow. We are favoured, at the least, that our secret is confined +to a man more merciful than his tribe.” He then related to Margaret +his interview with Hastings at the house of the Lady Lougueville, and +continued: “This morning, not an hour since, I sought him (for last +evening he did not leave Edward, a council met at the Tower), and +learned that he had detected the documents in the recesses of Warner’s +engine. Knowing from your Highness and your spies that he had been open +to the gifts of Charolois, I spoke to him plainly of the guerdon that +should await his silence. ‘Friar,’ he answered, ‘if in this court and +this world I have found it were a fool’s virtue to be more pure than +others, and if I know that I should but provoke the wrath of those who +profit by Burgundian gold, were I alone to disdain its glitter, I have +still eno’ of my younger conscience left me not to make barter of +human flesh. Did I give these papers to King Edward, the heads of fifty +gallant men, whose error is but loyalty to their ancient sovereign, +would glut the doomsman; but,’ he continued, ‘I am yet true to my king +and his cause; I shall know how to advise Edward to the frustrating all +your schemes. The districts where you hoped a rising will be guarded, +the men ye count upon will be watched: the Duke of Gloucester, whose +vigilance never sleeps, has learned that the Lady Margaret is in +England, disguised as a priest. To-morrow all the religious houses will +be searched; if thou knowest where she lies concealed, bid her lose not +an hour to fly.’” + +“I Will NOT fly!” exclaimed Margaret; “let Edward, if he dare, proclaim +to my people that their queen is in her city of London. Let him send his +hirelings to seize her. Not in this dress shall she be found. In robes +of state, the sceptre in her hand, shall they drag the consort of their +king to the prison-house of her palace.” + +“On my knees, great queen, I implore you to be calm; with the loss +of your liberty ends indeed all hope of victory, all chance even of +struggle. Think not Edward’s fears would leave to Margaret the life that +his disdain has spared to your royal spouse. Between your prison and +your grave, but one secret and bloody step! Be ruled; no time to lose! +My trusty Hugh even now waits with his boat below. Relays of horses +are ready, night and day, to bear you to the coast; while seeking your +restoration, I have never neglected the facilities for flight. Pause +not, O gracious lady; let not your son say, ‘My mother’s passion has +lost me the hope of my grandsire’s crown.’” + +“My boy; my princely boy, my Edward!” exclaimed Margaret, bursting +into tears, all the warrior-queen merged in the remembrance of the fond +mother. “Ah, faithful friend! he is so gallant and so beautiful! Oh, he +shall reward thee well hereafter!” + +“May he live to crush these barons, and raise this people!” said the +demagogue of Redesdale. “But now, save thyself!” + +“But what! is it not possible yet to strike the blow? Rather let us spur +to the north; rather let us hasten the hour of action, and raise the Red +Rose through the length and breadth of England!” + +“Ah, lady, if without warrant from your lord; if without foreign +subsidies; if without having yet ripened the time; if without gold, +without arms, and without one great baron on our side, we forestall a +rising, all that we have gained is lost; and instead of war, you can +scarcely provoke a riot. But for this accursed alliance of Edward’s +daughter with the brother of icy-hearted Louis, our triumph had been +secure. The French king’s gold would have manned a camp, bribed the +discontented lords, and his support have sustained the hopes of the more +leal Lancastrians. But it is in vain to deny, that if Lord Warwick win +Louis--” + +“He will not! he shall not!--Louis, mine own kinsman!” exclaimed +Margaret, in a voice in which the anguish pierced through the louder +tone of resentment and disdain. + +“Let us hope that he will not,” replied Hilyard, soothingly; “some +chance may yet break off these nuptials, and once more give us France +as our firm ally. But now we must be patient. Already Edward is fast +wearing away the gloss of his crown; already the great lords desert his +court; already, in the rural provinces, peasant and franklin complain of +the exactions of his minions; already the mighty House of Nevile frowns +sullen on the throne it built. Another year, and who knows but the Earl +of Warwick,--the beloved and the fearless, whose statesman-art alone +hath severed from you the arms and aid of France, at whose lifted +finger all England would bristle with armed men--may ride by the side of +Margaret through the gates of London?” + +“Evil-omened consoler, never!” exclaimed the princess, starting to her +feet, with eyes that literally shot fire. “Thinkest thou that the spirit +of a queen lies in me so low and crushed, that I, the descendant of +Charlemagne, could forgive the wrongs endured from Warwick and his +father? But thou, though wise and loyal, art of the Commons; thou +knowest not how they feel through whose veins rolls the blood of kings!” + +A dark and cold shade fell over the bold face of Robin of Redesdale at +these words. + +“Ah, lady,” he said, with bitterness, “if no misfortune can curb +thy pride, in vain would we rebuild thy throne. It is these Commons, +Margaret of Anjou--these English Commons--this Saxon People, that can +alone secure to thee the holding of the realm which the right arm wins. +And, beshrew me, much as I love thy cause, much as thou hast with thy +sorrows and thy princely beauty glamoured and spelled my heart and +my hand,--ay, so that I, the son of a Lollard, forget the wrongs the +Lollards sustained from the House of Lancaster; so that I, who have seen +the glorious fruitage of a Republic, yet labour for thee, to overshadow +the land with the throne of ONE--yet--yet, lady--yet, if I thought thou +wert to be the same Margaret as of old, looking back to thy dead kings, +and contemptuous of thy living people, I would not bid one mother’s son +lift lance or bill on thy behalf.” + +So resolutely did Robin of Redesdale utter these words, that the queen’s +haughty eye fell abashed as he spoke; and her craft, or her intellect, +which was keen and prompt where her passions did not deafen and blind +her judgment, instantly returned to her. Few women equalled this once +idol of knight and minstrel, in the subduing fascination that she could +exert in her happier moments. Her affability was as gracious as her +wrath was savage; and with a dignified and winning frankness, she +extended her hand to her ally, as she answered, in a sweet, humble, +womanly, and almost penitent voice,-- + +“O bravest and lealest of friends, forgive thy wretched queen. Her +troubles distract her brain,--chide her not if they sour her speech. +Saints above! will ye not pardon Margaret if at times her nature be +turned from the mother’s milk into streams of gall and bloody purpose, +when ye see, from your homes serene, in what a world of strife and +falsehood her very womanhood hath grown unsexed?” She paused a moment, +and her uplifted eyes shed tears fast and large. Then, with a sigh, +she turned to Hilyard, and resumed more calmly, “Yes, thou art +right,--adversity hath taught me much. And though adversity will too +often but feed and not starve our pride, yet thou--thou hast made me +know that there is more of true nobility in the blunt Children of the +People than in many a breast over which flows the kingly robe. Forgive +me, and the daughter of Charlemagne shall yet be a mother to the +Commons, who claim thee as their brother!” + +Thoroughly melted, Robin of Redesdale bowed over the hand held to his +lips, and his rough voice trembled as he answered, though that answer +took but the shape of prayer. + +“And now,” said the princess, smiling, “to make peace lasting between +us, I conquer myself, I yield to thy counsels. Once more the fugitive, I +abandon the city that contains Henry’s unheeded prison. See, I am ready. +Who will know Margaret in this attire? Lead on!” + +Rejoiced to seize advantage of this altered and submissive mood, +Robin instantly took the way through a narrow passage, to a small door +communicating with the river. There Hugh was waiting in a small boat, +moored to the damp and discoloured stairs. + +Robin, by a gesture, checked the man’s impulse to throw himself at the +feet of the pretended priest, and bade him put forth his best speed. +The princess seated herself by the helm, and the little boat cut +rapidly through the noble stream. Galleys, gay and gilded, with armorial +streamers, and filled with nobles and gallants, passed them, noisy with +mirth or music, on their way. These the fallen sovereign heeded not; +but, with all her faults, the woman’s heart beating in her bosom--she +who in prosperity had so often wrought ruin, and shame, and woe to +her gentle lord; she who had been reckless of her trust as queen; and +incurred grave--but, let us charitably hope, unjust--suspicion of her +faith as wife, still fixed her eyes on the gloomy tower that contained +her captive husband, and felt that she could have forgotten a while even +the loss of power if but permitted to fall on that plighted heart, and +weep over the past with the woe-worn bridegroom of her youth. + + + + +CHAPTER II. IN WHICH ARE LAID OPEN TO THE READER THE CHARACTER OF +EDWARD THE FOURTH AND THAT OF HIS COURT, WITH THE MACHINATIONS OF THE +WOODVILLES AGAINST THE EARL OF WARWICK. + +Scarcely need it be said to those who have looked with some philosophy +upon human life, that the young existence of Master Marmaduke Nevile, +once fairly merged in the great common sea, will rarely reappear before +us individualized and distinct. The type of the provincial cadet of the +day hastening courtwards to seek his fortune, he becomes lost amidst +the gigantic characters and fervid passions that alone stand forth in +history. And as, in reading biography, we first take interest in the +individual who narrates, but if his career shall pass into that broader +and more stirring life, in which he mingles with men who have left a +more dazzling memory than his own, we find the interest change from the +narrator to those by whom he is surrounded and eclipsed,--so, in this +record of a time, we scarce follow our young adventurer into the court +of the brilliant Edward ere the scene itself allures and separates us +from our guide; his mission is, as it were, well-nigh done. We leave, +then, for a while this bold, frank nature-fresh from the health of +the rural life--gradually to improve, or deprave itself, in the +companionship it finds. The example of the Lords Hastings, Scales, and +Worcester, and the accomplishments of the two younger Princes of York, +especially the Duke of Gloucester, had diffused among the younger +and gayer part of the court that growing taste for letters which +had somewhat slept during the dynasty of the House of Lancaster; and +Marmaduke’s mind became aware that learning was no longer the peculiar +distinction of the Church, and that Warwick was behind his age when he +boasted “that the sword was more familiar to him than the pen.” He had +the sagacity to perceive that the alliance with the great earl did not +conduce to his popularity at court; and even in the king’s presence, +the courtiers permitted themselves many taunts and jests at the fiery +Warwick, which they would have bitten out their tongues ere they would +have vented before the earl himself. But though the Nevile sufficiently +controlled his native candour not to incur unprofitable quarrel by +ill-mannered and unseasonable defence of the hero-baron when sneered at +or assailed, he had enough of the soldier and the man in him not to be +tainted by the envy of the time and place,--not to lose his gratitude to +his patron, nor his respect for the bulwark of the country. Rather, it +may be said, that Warwick gained in his estimation whenever compared +with the gay and silken personages who avenged themselves by words for +his superiority in deeds. Not only as a soldier, but as a statesman, the +great and peculiar merits of the earl were visible in all those measures +which emanated solely from himself. Though so indifferently educated, +his busy, practical career, his affable mixing with all classes, and +his hearty, national sympathies made him so well acquainted with the +interests of his country and the habits of his countrymen, that he was +far more fitted to rule than the scientific Worcester or the learned +Scales. The Young Duke of Gloucester presented a marked contrast to the +general levity of the court, in speaking of this powerful nobleman. He +never named him but with respect, and was pointedly courteous to +even the humblest member of the earl’s family. In this he appeared to +advantage by the side of Clarence, whose weakness of disposition made +him take the tone of the society in which he was thrown, and who, while +really loving Warwick, often smiled at the jests against him,--not, +indeed, if uttered by the queen or her family, of whom he ill concealed +his jealousy and hatred. + +The whole court was animated and pregnant with a spirit of intrigue, +which the artful cunning of the queen, the astute policy of Jacquetta, +and the animosity of the different factions had fomented to a degree +quite unknown under former reigns. It was a place in which the wit of +young men grew old rapidly; amidst stratagem, and plot, and ambitious +design, and stealthy overreaching, the boyhood of Richard III. passed +to its relentless manhood: such is the inevitable fruit of that era in +civilization when a martial aristocracy first begins to merge into a +voluptuous court. + +Through this moving and shifting web of ambition and intrigue the royal +Edward moved with a careless grace: simple himself, because his object +was won, and pleasure had supplanted ambition. His indolent, joyous +temper served to deaden his powerful intellect; or, rather, his +intellect was now lost in the sensual stream through which it flowed. +Ever in pursuit of some new face, his schemes and counterschemes +were limited to cheat a husband or deceive a wife; and dexterous and +successful no doubt they were. But a vice always more destructive +than the love of women began also to reign over him,--namely, the +intemperance of the table. The fastidious and graceful epicurism of the +early Normans, inclined to dainties but abhorring excess, and regarding +with astonished disdain the heavy meals and deep draughts of the Saxon, +had long ceased to characterize the offspring of that noblest of +all noble races. Warwick, whose stately manliness was disgusted with +whatever savoured of effeminacy or debauch, used to declare that he +would rather fight fifty battles for Edward IV. than once sup with him! +Feasts were prolonged for hours, and the banquets of this king of the +Middle Ages almost resembled those of the later Roman emperors. The Lord +Montagu did not share the abstemiousness of his brother of Warwick. He +was, next to Hastings, the king’s chosen and most favourite companion. +He ate almost as much as the king, and drank very little less. Of few +courtiers could the same be said! Over the lavish profligacy and excess +of the court, however, a veil dazzling to the young and high-spirited +was thrown. Edward was thoroughly the cavalier, deeply imbued with the +romance of chivalry, and, while making the absolute woman his plaything, +always treated the ideal woman as a goddess. A refined gallantry, a +deferential courtesy to dame and demoiselle, united the language of +an Amadis with the licentiousness of a Gaolor; and a far more +alluring contrast than the court of Charles II. presented to the grim +Commonwealth seduced the vulgar in that of this most brave and most +beautiful prince, when compared with the mournful and lugubrious circles +in which Henry VI. had reigned and prayed. Edward himself, too, it +was so impossible to judge with severe justice, that his extraordinary +popularity in London, where he was daily seen, was never diminished by +his faults; he was so bold in the field, yet so mild in the chamber; +when his passions slept, he was so thoroughly good-natured and social, +so kind to all about his person, so hearty and gladsome in his talk and +in his vices, so magnificent and so generous withal; and, despite his +indolence, his capacities for business were marvellous,--and these last +commanded the reverence of the good Londoners; he often administered +justice himself, like the caliphs of the East, and with great acuteness +and address. Like most extravagant men, he had a wholesome touch +of avarice. That contempt for commerce which characterizes a modern +aristocracy was little felt by the nobles of that day, with the +exception of such blunt patricians as Lord Warwick or Raoul de Fulke. +The great House of De la Pole (Duke of Suffolk), the heir of which +married Edward’s sister Elizabeth, had been founded by a merchant of +Hull. Earls and archbishops scrupled not to derive revenues from what +we should now esteem the literal resources of trade. [The Abbot of +St. Alban’s (temp. Henry III.) was a vendor of Yarmouth bloaters. The +Cistercian Monks were wool-merchants; and Macpherson tells us of +a couple of Iceland bishops who got a license from Henry VI. for +smuggling. (Matthew Paris. Macpherson’s “Annals of Commerce,” 10.) +As the Whig historians generally have thought fit to consider the +Lancastrian cause the more “liberal” of the two, because Henry IV. was +the popular choice, and, in fact, an elected, not an hereditary king, so +it cannot be too emphatically repeated, that the accession of Edward IV. +was the success of two new and two highly--popular principles,--the one +that of church reform, the other that of commercial calculation. All +that immense section, almost a majority of the people, who had been +persecuted by the Lancastrian kings as Lollards, revenged on Henry the +aggrieved rights of religious toleration. On the other hand, though +Henry IV., who was immeasurably superior to his warlike son in intellect +and statesmanship, had favoured the growing commercial spirit, it had +received nothing but injury under Henry V., and little better than +contempt under Henry VI. The accession of the Yorkists was, then, on +two grounds a great popular movement; and it was followed by a third +advantage to the popular cause,--namely, in the determined desire both +of Edward and Richard III. to destroy the dangerous influence of the +old feudal aristocracy. To this end Edward laboured in the creation of +a court noblesse; and Richard, with the more dogged resolution that +belonged to him, went at once to the root of the feudal power, in +forbidding the nobles to give badges and liveries (this also was +forbidden, it is true, by the edict of Edward IV. as well as by his +predecessors from the reign of Richard II.; but no king seems to have +had the courage to enforce the prohibition before Richard III.),--in +other words, to appropriate armies under the name of retainers. +Henry VII., in short, did not originate the policy for which he has +monopolized the credit; he did but steadily follow out the theory of +raising the middle class and humbling the baronial, which the House of +York first put into practice.] shown itself on this point more liberal +in its policy, more free from feudal prejudices, than that of the +Plantagenets. Even Edward II. was tenacious of the commerce with Genoa, +and an intercourse with the merchant princes of that republic probably +served to associate the pursuits of commerce with the notion of rank and +power. Edward III. is still called the Father of English Commerce; but +Edward IV. carried the theories of his ancestors into far more extensive +practice, for his own personal profit. This king, so indolent in the +palace, was literally the most active merchant in the mart. He traded +largely in ships of his own, freighted with his own goods; and though, +according to sound modern economics, this was anything but an aid to +commerce, seeing that no private merchant could compete with a royal +trader who went out and came in duty-free, yet certainly the mere +companionship and association in risk and gain, and the common +conversation that it made between the affable monarch and the homeliest +trader, served to increase his popularity, and to couple it with respect +for practical sense. Edward IV. was in all this pre-eminently THE MAN +OF HIS AGE,--not an inch behind it or before! And, in addition to this +happy position, he was one of those darlings of Nature, so affluent and +blest in gifts of person, mind, and outward show, that it is only at the +distance of posterity we ask why men of his own age admired the false, +the licentious, and the cruel, where those contemporaries, over-dazzled, +saw but the heroic and the joyous, the young, the beautiful,--the +affable to friend, and the terrible to foe! + +It was necessary to say thus much on the commercial tendencies of +Edward, because, at this epoch, they operated greatly, besides other +motives shortly to be made clear, in favour of the plot laid by the +enemies of the Earl of Warwick, to dishonour that powerful minister and +drive him from the councils of the king. + +One morning Hastings received a summons to attend Edward, and on +entering the royal chamber, he found already assembled Lord Rivers, the +queen’s father, Anthony Woodville, and the Earl of Worcester. + +The king seemed thoughtful; he beckoned Hastings to approach, and placed +in his hand a letter, dated from Rouen. “Read and judge, Hastings,” said +Edward. + +The letter was from a gentleman in Warwick’s train. It gave a glowing +account of the honours accorded to the earl by Louis XI., greater than +those ever before manifested to a subject, and proceeded thus:-- + +“But it is just I should apprise you that there be strange rumours as to +the marvellous love that King Louis shows my lord the earl. He lodgeth +in the next house to him, and hath even had an opening made in the +partition-wall between his own chamber and the earl’s. Men do say that +the king visits him nightly, and there be those who think that so much +stealthy intercourse between an English ambassador and the kinsman of +Margaret of Anjou bodeth small profit to our grace the king.” + +“I observe,” said Hastings, glancing to the superscription, “that this +letter is addressed to my Lord Rivers. Can he avouch the fidelity of his +correspondent?” + +“Surely, yes,” answered Rivers; “it is a gentleman of my own blood.” + +“Were he not so accredited,” returned Hastings, “I should question the +truth of a man who can thus consent to play the spy upon his lord and +superior.” + +“The public weal justifies all things,” said the Earl of Worcester (who, +though by marriage nearly connected to Warwick, eyed his power with +the jealous scorn which the man of book-lore often feels for one whose +talent lies in action),--“so held our masters in all state-craft, the +Greek and Roman.” + +“Certes,” said Sir Anthony Woodville, “it grieveth the pride of an +English knight that we should be beholden for courtesies to the born foe +of England, which I take the Frenchman naturally to be.” + +“Ah,” said Edward, smiling sternly, “I would rather be myself, with +banner and trump, before the walls of Paris, than sending my cousin the +earl to beg the French king’s brother to accept my sister as a bride. +And what is to become of my good merchant-ships if Burgundy take umbrage +and close its ports?” + +“Beau sire,” said Hastings, “thou knowest how little cause I have to +love the Earl of Warwick. We all here, save your gracious self, bear the +memory of some affront rendered to us by his pride and heat of mood! but +in this council I must cease to be William de Hastings, and be all and +wholly the king’s servant. I say first, then, with reference to these +noble peers, that Warwick’s faith to the House of York is too well +proven to become suspected because of the courtesies of King Louis,--an +artful craft, as it clearly seems to me, of the wily Frenchman, to +weaken your throne, by provoking your distrust of its great supporter. +Fall we not into such a snare! Moreover, we may be sure that Warwick +cannot be false, if he achieve the object of his embassy,--namely, +detach Louis from the side of Margaret and Lancaster by close alliance +with Edward and York. Secondly, sire, with regard to that alliance, +which it seems you would repent,--I hold now, as I have held ever, that +it is a master-stroke in policy, and the earl in this proves his sharp +brain worthy his strong arm; for as his highness the Duke of Gloucester +hath now clearly discovered that Margaret of Anjou has been of late +in London, and that treasonable designs were meditated, though now +frustrated, so we may ask why the friends of Lancaster really stood +aloof; why all conspiracy was, and is, in vain?--Because, sire, of this +very alliance with France; because the gold and subsidies of Louis are +not forthcoming; because the Lancastrians see that if once Lord Warwick +win France from the Red Rose, nothing short of such a miracle as their +gaining Warwick instead can give a hope to their treason. Your Highness +fears the anger of Burgundy, and the suspension of your trade with the +Flemings; but--forgive me--this is not reasonable. Burgundy dare not +offend England, matched, as its arms are, with France; the Flemings gain +more by you than you gain by the Flemings, and those interested burghers +will not suffer any prince’s quarrel to damage their commerce. Charolois +may bluster and threat, but the storm will pass, and Burgundy will be +contented, if England remain neutral in the feud with France. All these +reasons, sire, urge me to support my private foe, the Lord Warwick, +and to pray you to give no ear to the discrediting his Honour and his +embassy.” + +The profound sagacity of these remarks, the repute of the speaker, and +the well-known grudge between him and Warwick, for reasons hereafter +to be explained, produced a strong effect upon the intellect of Edward, +always vigorous, save when clouded with passion. But Rivers, whose +malice to the earl was indomitable, coldly recommenced,-- + +“With submission to the Lord Hastings, sire, whom we know that love +sometimes blinds, and whose allegiance to the earl’s fair sister, the +Lady of Bonville, perchance somewhat moves him to forget the day when +Lord Warwick--” + +“Cease, my lord,” said Hastings, white with suppressed anger; “these +references beseem not the councils of grave men.” + +“Tut, Hastings,” said Edward, laughing merrily, “women mix themselves +up in all things: board or council, bed or battle,--wherever there +is mischief astir, there, be sure, peeps a woman’s sly face from her +wimple. Go on, Rivers.” + +“Your pardon, my Lord Hastings,” said Rivers, “I knew not my thrust went +so home; there is another letter I have not yet laid before the king.” + He drew forth a scroll from his bosom, and read as follows:-- + +“Yesterday the earl feasted the king, and as, in discharge of mine +office, I carved for my lord, I heard King Louis say, ‘Pasque Dieu, my +Lord Warwick, our couriers bring us word that Count Charolois declares +he shall yet wed the Lady Margaret, and that he laughs at your +ambassage. What if our brother, King Edward, fall back from the treaty?’ +‘He durst not!’ said the earl.” + +“Durst not!” exclaimed Edward, starting to his feet, and striking the +table with his clenched hand, “durst not! Hastings, hear you that?” + +Hastings bowed his head in assent. “Is that all, Lord Rivers?” + +“All! and methinks enough.” + +“Enough, by my halidame!” said Edward, laughing bitterly; “he shall see +what a king dares, when a subject threatens. Admit the worshipful +the deputies from our city of London,--lord chamberlain, it is thine +office,--they await in the anteroom.” + +Hastings gravely obeyed, and in crimson gowns, with purple hoods and +gold chains, marshalled into the king’s presence a goodly deputation +from the various corporate companies of London. + +These personages advanced within a few paces of the dais, and there +halted and knelt, while their spokesman read, on his knees, a long +petition, praying the king to take into his gracious consideration +the state of the trade with the Flemings; and though not absolutely +venturing to name or to deprecate the meditated alliance with France, +beseeching his grace to satisfy them as to certain rumours, already very +prejudicial to their commerce, of the possibility of a breach with the +Duke of Burgundy. The merchant-king listened with great attention and +affability to this petition; and replied shortly, that he thanked the +deputation for their zeal for the public weal,--that a king would have +enough to do if he contravened every gossip’s tale; but that it was +his firm purpose to protect, in all ways, the London traders, and to +maintain the most amicable understanding with the Duke of Burgundy. + +The supplicators then withdrew from the royal presence. + +“Note you how gracious the king was to me?” whispered Master Heyford to +one of his brethren; “he looked at me while he answered.” + +“Coxcomb!” muttered the confidant, “as if I did not catch his eye when +he said, ‘Ye are the pillars of the public weal!’ But because Master +Heyford has a handsome wife he thinks he tosseth all London on his own +horns!” + +As the citizens were quitting the palace, Lord Rivers joined them. “You +will thank me for suggesting this deputation, worthy sirs,” said he, +smiling significantly; “you have timed it well!”--and passing by them, +without further comment, he took the way to the queen’s chamber. + +Elizabeth was playing with her infant daughter, tossing the child in +the air, and laughing at its riotous laughter. The stern old Duchess of +Bedford, leaning over the back of the state-chair, looked on with all +a grandmother’s pride, and half chanted a nursery rhyme. It was a +sight fair to see! Elizabeth never seemed more lovely: her artificial, +dissimulating smile changed into hearty, maternal glee, her smooth +cheek flushed with exercise, a stray ringlet escaping from the stiff +coif!--And, alas, the moment the two ladies caught sight of Rivers, all +the charm was dissolved; the child was hastily put on the floor; the +queen, half ashamed of being natural, even before her father, smoothed +back the rebel lock, and the duchess, breaking off in the midst of her +grandam song, exclaimed,-- + +“Well, well! how thrives our policy?” + +“The king,” answered Rivers, “is in the very mood we could desire. At +the words, ‘He durst not!’ the Plantagenet sprung up in his breast; and +now, lest he ask to see the rest of the letter, thus I destroy it;” and +flinging the scroll in the blazing hearth, he watched it consume. + +“Why this, sir?” said the queen. + +“Because, my Elizabeth, the bold words glided off into a decent +gloss,--‘He durst not,’ said Warwick, ‘because what a noble heart dares +least is to belie the plighted word, and what the kind heart shuns most +is to wrong the confiding friend.” + +“It was fortunate,” said the duchess, “that Edward took heat at the +first words, nor stopped, it seems, for the rest!” + +“I was prepared, Jacquetta; had he asked to see the rest, I should have +dropped the scroll into the brazier, as containing what I would not +presume to read. Courage! Edward has seen the merchants; he has flouted +Hastings,--who would gainsay us. For the rest, Elizabeth, be it yours +to speak of affronts paid by the earl to your highness; be it yours, +Jacquetta, to rouse Edward’s pride by dwelling on Warwick’s overweening +power; be it mine to enlist his interest on behalf of his merchandise; +be it Margaret’s to move his heart by soft tears for the bold Charolois; +and ere a month be told, Warwick shall find his embassy a thriftless +laughing-stock, and no shade pass between the House of Woodville and the +sun of England.” + +“I am scarce queen while Warwick is minister,” said Elizabeth, +vindictively. “How he taunted me in the garden, when we met last!” + +“But hark you, daughter and lady liege, hark you! Edward is not prepared +for the decisive stroke. I have arranged with Anthony, whose chivalrous +follies fit him not for full comprehension of our objects, how upon +fair excuse the heir of Burgundy’s brother--the Count de la Roche--shall +visit London; and the count once here, all is ours! Hush! take up the +little one,--Edward comes!” + + + + +CHAPTER III. WHEREIN MASTER NICHOLAS ALWYN VISITS THE COURT, AND THERE +LEARNS MATTER OF WHICH THE ACUTE READER WILL JUDGE FOR HIMSELF. + +It was a morning towards the end of May (some little time after Edward’s +gracious reception of the London deputies), when Nicholas Alwyn, +accompanied by two servitors armed to the teeth,--for they carried with +them goods of much value, and even in the broad daylight and amidst +the most frequented parts of the city, men still confided little in the +security of the law,--arrived at the Tower, and was conducted to the +presence of the queen. + +Elizabeth and her mother were engaged in animated but whispered +conversation when the goldsmith entered; and there was an unusual gayety +in the queen’s countenance as she turned to Alwyn and bade him show her +his newest gauds. + +While with a curiosity and eagerness that seemed almost childlike +Elizabeth turned over rings, chains, and brooches, scarcely listening +to Alwyn’s comments on the lustre of the gems or the quaintness of the +fashion, the duchess disappeared for a moment, and returned with the +Princess Margaret. + +This young princess had much of the majestic beauty of her royal +brother; but, instead of the frank, careless expression so fascinating +in Edward, there was, in her full and curved lip and bright large eye, +something at once of haughtiness and passion, which spoke a decision and +vivacity of character beyond her years. + +“Choose for thyself, sweetheart and daughter mine,” said the duchess, +affectionately placing her hand on Margaret’s luxuriant hair, “and let +the noble visitor we await confess that our rose of England outblooms +the world.” + +The princess coloured with complaisant vanity at these words, and, +drawing near the queen, looked silently at a collar of pearls, which +Elizabeth held. + +“If I may adventure so to say,” observed Alwyn, “pearls will mightily +beseem her highness’s youthful bloom; and lo! here be some adornments +for the bodice or partelet, to sort with the collar; not,” added the +goldsmith, bowing low, and looking down,--“not perchance displeasing +to her highness, in that they are wrought in the guise of the fleur de +lis--” + +An impatient gesture in the queen, and a sudden cloud over the fair +brow of Margaret, instantly betokened to the shrewd trader that he +had committed some most unwelcome error in this last allusion to the +alliance with King Louis of France, which, according to rumour, the Earl +of Warwick had well-nigh brought to a successful negotiation; and to +convince him yet more of his mistake, the duchess said haughtily, “Good +fellow, be contented to display thy goods, and spare us thy comments. +As for thy hideous fleur de lis, an’ thy master had no better device, he +would not long rest the king’s jeweller.” + +“I have no heart for the pearls,” said Margaret, abruptly; “they are +at best pale and sicklied. What hast thou of bolder ornament and more +dazzling lustrousness?” + +“These emeralds, it is said, were once among the jewels of the great +House of Burgundy,” observed Nicholas, slowly, and fixing his keen, +sagacious look on the royal purchasers. + +“Of Burgundy!” exclaimed the queen. + +“It is true,” said the Duchess of Bedford, looking at the ornament with +care, and slightly colouring,--for in fact the jewels had been a present +from Philip the Good to the Duke of Bedford, and the exigencies of the +civil wars had led, some time since, first to their mortgage, or rather +pawn, and then to their sale. + +The princess passed her arm affectionately round Jacquetta’s neck, and +said, “If you leave me my choice, I will have none but these emeralds.” + +The two elder ladies exchanged looks and smiles. “Hast thou travelled, +young man?” asked the duchess. + +“Not in foreign parts, gracious lady, but I have lived much with those +who have been great wanderers.” + +“Ah, and what say they of the ancient friends of mine House, the princes +of Burgundy?” + +“Lady, all men agree that a nobler prince and a juster than Duke Philip +never reigned over brave men; and those who have seen the wisdom of his +rule, grieve sorely to think so excellent and mighty a lord should have +trouble brought to his old age by the turbulence of his son, the Count +of Charolois.” + +Again Margaret’s fair brow lowered, and the duchess hastened to +answer, “The disputes between princes, young man, can never be rightly +understood by such as thou and thy friends. The Count of Charolois is +a noble gentleman; and fire in youth will break out. Richard the Lion +Hearted of England was not less puissant a king for the troubles he +occasioned to his sire when prince.” + +Alwyn bit his lip, to restrain a reply that might not have been well +received; and the queen, putting aside the emeralds and a few other +trinkets, said, smilingly, to the duchess, “Shall the king pay for +these, or have thy learned men yet discovered the great secret?” + +“Nay, wicked child,” said the duchess, “thou lovest to banter me; and +truth to say, more gold has been melted in the crucible than as yet +promises ever to come out of it; but my new alchemist, Master Warner, +seems to have gone nearer to the result than any I have yet known. +Meanwhile, the king’s treasurer must, perforce, supply the gear to the +king’s sister.” + +The queen wrote an order on the officer thus referred to, who was no +other than her own father, Lord Rivers; and Alwyn, putting up his goods, +was about to withdraw, when the duchess said carelessly, “Good youth, +the dealings of our merchants are more with Flanders than with France, +is it not so?” + +“Surely,” said Alwyn; “the Flemings are good traders and honest folk.” + +“It is well known, I trust, in the city of London, that this new +alliance with France is the work of their favourite, the Lord Warwick,” + said the duchess, scornfully; “but whatever the earl does is right with +ye of the hood and cap, even though he were to leave yon river without +one merchant-mast.” + +“Whatever be our thoughts, puissant lady,” said Alwyn, cautiously, “we +give them not vent to the meddling with state affairs.” + +“Ay,” persisted Jacquetta, “thine answer is loyal and discreet. But an’ +the Lord Warwick had sought alliance with the Count of Charolois, would +there have been brighter bonfires than ye will see in Smithfield, when +ye hear that business with the Flemings is surrendered for fine words +from King Louis the Cunning?” + +“We trust too much to our king’s love for the citizens of London to fear +that surrender, please your Highness,” answered Alwyn; “our king himself +is the first of our merchants, and he hath given a gracious answer to +the deputation from our city.” + +“You speak wisely, sir,” said the queen; “and your king will yet defend +you from the plots of your enemies. You may retire.” + +Alwyn, glad to be released from questionings but little to his taste, +hastened to depart. At the gate of the royal lodge, he gave his +caskets to the servitors who attended him, and passing slowly along the +courtyard, thus soliloquized: + +“Our neighbours the Scotch say, ‘It is good fishing in muddy waters;’ +but he who fishes into the secrets of courts must bait with his head. +What mischief doth that crafty queen, the proud duchess, devise? Um! +They are thinking still to match the young princess with the hot Count +of Charolois. Better for trade, it is true, to be hand in hand with the +Flemings; but there are two sides to a loaf. If they play such a trick +on the stout earl, he is not a man to sit down and do nothing. More food +for the ravens, I fear,--more brown bills and bright lances in the green +fields of poor England!--and King Louis is an awful carle to sow flax in +his neighbour’s house, when the torches are burning. Um! Where is +fair Marmaduke. He looks brave in his gay super-tunic. Well, sir and +foster-brother, how fare you at court?” + +“My dear Nicholas, a merry welcome and hearty to your sharp, thoughtful +face. Ah, man! we shall have a gay time for you venders of gewgaws. +There are to be revels and jousts, revels in the Tower and jousts in +Smithfield. We gentles are already hard at practice in the tilt-yard.” + +“Sham battles are better than real ones, Master Nevile! But what is in +the wind?” + +“A sail, Nicholas! a sail bound to England! Know that the Count of +Charolois has permitted Sir Anthony Count de la Roche, his bastard +brother, to come over to London, to cross lances with our own Sir +Anthony Lord Scales. It is an old challenge, and right royally will the +encounter be held.” + +“Um!” muttered Alwyn, “this bastard, then, is the carrier pigeon.--And,” + said he, aloud, “is it only to exchange hard blows that Sir Anthony of +Burgundy comes over to confer with Sir Anthony of England? Is there no +court rumour of other matters between them?” + +“Nay. What else? Plague on you craftsmen! You cannot even comprehend the +pleasure and pastime two knights take in the storm of the lists!” + +“I humbly avow it, Master Nevile. But it seemeth, indeed, strange to me +that the Count of Charolois should take this very moment to send envoys +of courtesy when so sharp a slight has been put on his pride, and so +dangerous a blow struck at his interests, as the alliance between the +French prince and the Lady Margaret. Bold Charles has some cunning, I +trow, which your kinsman of Warwick is not here to detect.” + +“Tush, man! Trade, I see, teaches ye all so to cheat and overreach, +that ye suppose a knight’s burgonet is as full of tricks and traps as +a citizen’s flat-cap. Would, though, that my kinsman of Warwick were +here,” added Marmaduke, in a low whisper, “for the women and the +courtiers are doing their best to belie him.” + +“Keep thyself clear of them all, Marmaduke,” said Alwyn; “for, by the +Lord, I see that the evil days are coming once more, fast and dark, +and men like thee will again have to choose between friend and friend, +kinsman and king. For my part, I say nothing; for I love not fighting, +unless compelled to it. But if ever I do fight, it will not be by thy +side, under Warwick’s broad flag.” + +“Eh, man?” interrupted Nevile. + +“Nay, nay,” continued Nicholas, shaking his head, “I admire the great +earl, and were I lord or gentle, the great earl should be my chief. +But each to his order; and the trader’s tree grows not out of a baron’s +walking-staff. King Edward may be a stern ruler, but he is a friend +to the goldsmiths, and has just confirmed our charter. ‘Let every man +praise the bridge he goes over,’ as the saw saith. Truce to this talk, +Master Nevile. I hear that your young hostess--ehem!--Mistress Sibyll, +is greatly marvelled at among the court gallants, is it so?” + +Marmaduke’s frank face grew gloomy. “Alas! dear foster-brother,” he +said, dropping the somewhat affected tone in which he had before spoken, +“I must confess to my shame, that I cannot yet get the damsel out of my +thoughts, which is what I consider it a point of manhood and spirit to +achieve.” + +“How so?” + +“Because, when a maiden chooseth steadily to say nay to your wooing, to +follow her heels, and whine and beg, is a dog’s duty, not a man’s.” + +“What!” exclaimed Alwyn, in a voice of great eagerness, “mean you to say +that you have wooed Sibyll Warner as your wife?” + +“Verily, yes!” + +“And failed?” + +“And failed.” + +“Poor Marmaduke!” + +“There is no ‘poor’ in the matter, Nick Alwyn,” returned Marmaduke, +sturdily; “if a girl likes me, well; if not, there are too many others +in the wide world for a young fellow to break his heart about one. Yet,” + he added, after a short pause, and with a sigh,--“yet, if thou hast +not seen her since she came to the court, thou wilt find her wondrously +changed.” + +“More’s the pity!” said Alwyn, reciprocating his friend’s sigh. + +“I mean that she seems all the comelier for the court air. And beshrew +me, I think the Lord Hastings, with his dulcet flatteries, hath made it +a sort of frenzy for all the gallants to flock round her.” + +“I should like to see Master Warner again,” said Alwyn; “where lodges +he?” + +“Yonder, by the little postern, on the third flight of the turret that +flanks the corridor, [This description refers to that part of the Tower +called the King’s or Queen’s Lodge, and long since destroyed.] next to +Friar Bungey, the magician; but it is broad daylight, and therefore not +so dangerous,--not but thou mayest as well patter an ave in going up +stairs.” + +“Farewell, Master Nevile,” said Alwyn, smiling; “I will seek the +mechanician, and if I find there Mistress Sibyll, what shall I say from +thee?” + +“That young bachelors in the reign of Edward IV. will never want fair +feres,” answered the Nevile, debonairly smoothing his lawn partelet. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. EXHIBITING THE BENEFITS WHICH ROYAL PATRONAGE CONFERS ON +GENIUS,--ALSO THE EARLY LOVES OF THE LORD HASTINGS; WITH OTHER MATTERS +EDIFYING AND DELECTABLE. + +The furnace was still at work, the flame glowed, the bellows heaved; +but these were no longer ministering to the service of a mighty and +practical invention. The mathematician, the philosopher, had descended +to the alchemist. The nature of the TIME had conquered the nature of +a GENIUS meant to subdue time. Those studies that had gone so far +to forestall the master-triumph of far later ages were exchanged for +occupations that played with the toys of infant wisdom. O true Tartarus +of Genius, when its energies are misapplied, when the labour but rolls +the stone up the mountain, but pours water upon water through the sieve! + +There is a sanguineness in men of great intellect which often leads them +into follies avoided by the dull. When Adam Warner saw the ruin of his +contrivance; when he felt that time and toil and money were necessary to +its restoration; and when the gold he lacked was placed before him as a +reward for alchemical labours, he at first turned to alchemy as he would +have turned to the plough,--as he had turned to conspiracy,--simply as a +means to his darling end. But by rapid degrees the fascination which all +the elder sages experienced in the grand secret exercised its witchery +over his mind. If Roger Bacon, though catching the notion of the +steam-engine, devoted himself to the philosopher’s stone; if even in so +much more enlightened an age Newton had wasted some precious hours in +the transmutation of metals, it was natural that the solitary sage of +the reign of Edward IV. should grow, for a while at least, wedded to a +pursuit which promised results so august. And the worst of alchemy is, +that it always allures on its victims: one gets so near and so near the +object,--it seems that so small an addition will complete the sum! +So there he was--this great practical genius--hard at work on turning +copper into gold! + +“Well, Master Warner,” said the young goldsmith, entering the student’s +chamber, “methinks you scarcely remember your friend and visitor, +Nicholas Alwyn?” + +“Remember, oh, certes! doubtless one of the gentlemen present when they +proposed to put me to the brake [the old word for rack]. Please to stand +a little on this side--what is your will?” + +“I am not a gentleman, and I should have been loth to stand idly by +when the torture was talked of for a free-born Englishman, let alone a +scholar. And where is your fair daughter, Master Warner? I suppose you +see but little of her now she is the great dame’s waiting-damsel?” + +“And why so, Master Alwyn?” asked a charming voice; and Alwyn for the +first time perceived the young form of Sibyll, by the embrasure of a +window, from which might be seen in the court below a gay group of lords +and courtiers, with the plain, dark dress of Hastings, contrasting their +gaudy surcoats, glittering with cloth-of-gold. Alwyn’s tongue clove +to his mouth; all he had to say was forgotten in a certain bashful and +indescribable emotion. + +The alchemist had returned to his furnace, and the young man and the +girl were as much alone as if Adam Warner had been in heaven. + +“And why should the daughter forsake the sire more in a court, where +love is rare, than in the humbler home, where they may need each other +less?” + +“I thank thee for the rebuke, mistress,” said Alwyn, delighted with her +speech; “for I should have been sorry to see thy heart spoiled by the +vanities that kill most natures.” Scarcely had he uttered these words, +than they seemed to him overbold and presuming; for his eye now took in +the great change of which Marmaduke had spoken. Sibyll’s dress beseemed +the new rank which she held: the corset, fringed with gold, and made of +the finest thread, showed the exquisite contour of the throat and +neck, whose ivory it concealed. The kirtle of rich blue became the +fair complexion and dark chestnut hair; and over all she wore that +most graceful robe, called the sasquenice, of which the old French poet +sang,-- + + “Car nulie robe n’est si belle + A dame ne a demoiselle.” + +This garment, worn over the rest of the dress, had perhaps a classical +origin, and with slight variations may be seen on the Etruscan vases; +it was long and loose, of the whitest and finest linen, with hanging +sleeves, and open at the sides. But it was not the mere dress that +had embellished the young maiden’s form and aspect,--it was rather an +indefinable alteration in the expression and the bearing. She looked as +if born to the airs of courts; still modest indeed, and simple, but with +a consciousness of dignity, and almost of power; and in fact the +woman had been taught the power that womanhood possesses. She had been +admired, followed, flattered; she had learned the authority of beauty. +Her accomplishments, uncommon in that age among her sex, had aided her +charm of person; her natural pride, which, though hitherto latent, was +high and ardent, fed her heart with sweet hopes; a bright career seemed +to extend before her; and, at peace as to her father’s safety, relieved +from the drudging cares of poverty, her fancy was free to follow +the phantasms of sanguine youth through the airy land of dreams. And +therefore it was that the maid was changed! + +At the sight of the delicate beauty, the self-possessed expression, +the courtly dress, the noble air of Sibyll, Nicholas Alwyn recoiled and +turned pale; he no longer marvelled at her rejection of Marmaduke, and +he started at the remembrance of the bold thoughts which he had dared +himself to indulge. + +The girl smiled at the young man’s confusion. + +“It is not prosperity that spoils the heart,” she said touchingly, +“unless it be mean indeed. Thou rememberest, Master Alwyn, that when God +tried His saint, it was by adversity and affliction.” + +“May thy trial in these last be over,” answered Alwyn; “but the humble +must console their state by thinking that the great have their trials +too; and, as our homely adage hath it, ‘That is not always good in +the maw which is sweet in the mouth.’ Thou seest much of my gentle +foster-brother, Mistress Sibyll?” + +“But in the court dances, Master Alwyn; for most of the hours in which +my lady duchess needs me not are spent here. Oh, my father hopes great +things! and now at last fame dawns upon him.” + +“I rejoice to hear it, mistress; and so, having paid ye both my homage, +I take my leave, praying that I may visit you from time to time, if it +be only to consult this worshipful master touching certain improvements +in the horologe, in which his mathematics can doubtless instruct me. +Farewell. I have some jewels to show to the Lady of Bonville.” + +“The Lady of Bonville!” repeated Sibyll, changing colour; “she is a dame +of notable loveliness.” + +“So men say,--and mated to a foolish lord; but scandal, which spares +few, breathes not on her,--rare praise for a court dame. Few Houses can +have the boast of Lord Warwick’s,--‘that all the men are without fear, +and all the women without stain.’” + +“It is said,” observed Sibyll, looking down, “that my Lord Hastings once +much affectioned the Lady Bonville. Hast thou heard such gossip?” + +“Surely, yes; in the city we hear all the tales of the court; for many +a courtier, following King Edward’s exemplar, dines with the citizen +to-day, that he may borrow gold from the citizen to-morrow. Surely, yes; +and hence, they say, the small love the wise Hastings bears to the stout +earl.” + +“How runs the tale? Be seated, Master Alwyn.” + +“Marry, thus: when William Hastings was but a squire, and much favoured +by Richard, Duke of York, he lifted his eyes to the Lady Katherine +Nevile, sister to the Earl of Warwick, and in beauty and in dower, as in +birth, a mate for a king’s son.” + +“And, doubtless, the Lady Katherine returned his love?” + +“So it is said, maiden; and the Earl of Salisbury her father and Lord +Warwick her brother discovered the secret, and swore that no new man +(the stout earl’s favourite word of contempt), though he were made a +duke, should give to an upstart posterity the quarterings of Montagu +and Nevile. Marry, Mistress Sibyll, there is a north country and pithy +proverb, ‘Happy is the man whose father went to the devil.’ Had some old +Hastings been a robber and extortioner, and left to brave William the +heirship of his wickedness in lordships and lands, Lord Warwick had not +called him ‘a new man.’ Master Hastings was dragged, like a serf’s son, +before the earl on his dais; and be sure he was rated soundly, for +his bold blood was up, and he defied the earl, as a gentleman born, to +single battle. Then the earl’s followers would have fallen on him; and +in those days, under King Henry, he who bearded a baron in his hall must +have a troop at his back, or was like to have a rope round his neck; +but the earl (for the lion is not as fierce as they paint him) came down +from his dais, and said, ‘Man, I like thy spirit, and I myself will dub +thee knight that I may pick up thy glove and give thee battle.’” + +“And they fought? Brave Hastings!” + +“No. For whether the Duke of York forbade it, or whether the Lady +Katherine would not hear of such strife between fere and frere, I know +not; but Duke Richard sent Hastings to Ireland, and, a month after, the +Lady Katherine married Lord Bonville’s son and heir,--so, at least, +tell the gossips and sing the ballad-mongers. Men add that Lord Hastings +still loves the dame, though, certes, he knows how to console himself.” + +“Loves her! Nay, nay,--I trove not,” answered Sibyll, in a low voice, +and with a curl of her dewy lip. + +At this moment the door opened gently and Lord Hastings himself entered. +He came in with the familiarity of one accustomed to the place. + +“And how fares the grand secret, Master Warner? Sweet mistress! thou +seemest lovelier to me in this dark chamber than outshining all in the +galliard. Ha! Master Alwyn, I owe thee many thanks for making me know +first the rare arts of this fair emblazoner. Move me yon stool, good +Alwyn.” + +As the goldsmith obeyed, he glanced from Hastings to the blushing face +and heaving bosom of Sibyll, and a deep and exquisite pang shot through +his heart. It was not jealousy alone; it was anxiety, compassion, +terror. The powerful Hastings, the ambitious lord, the accomplished +libertine--what a fate for poor Sibyll, if for such a man the cheek +blushed and the bosom heaved! + +“Well, Master Warner,” resumed Hastings, “thou art still silent as to +thy progress.” + +The philosopher uttered an impatient groan. “Ah, I comprehend. The +goldmaker must not speak of his craft before the goldsmith. Good Alwyn, +thou mayest retire. All arts have their mysteries.” + +Alwyn, with a sombre brow, moved to the door. + +“In sooth,” he said, “I have overtarried, good my lord. The Lady +Bonville will chide me; for she is of no patient temper.” + +“Bridle thy tongue, artisan, and begone!” said Hastings, with unusual +haughtiness and petulance. + +“I stung him there,” muttered Alwyn, as he withdrew. “Oh, fool that +I was to--nay, I thought it never, I did but dream it. What wonder we +traders hate these silken lords! They reap, we sow; they trifle, we +toil; they steal with soft words into the hearts which--Oh, Marmaduke, +thou art right-right!--Stout men sit not down to weep beneath the +willow. But she--the poor maiden--she looked so haughty and so happy. +This is early May; will she wear that look when the autumn leaves are +strewn?” + + + + +CHAPTER V. THE WOODVILLE INTRIGUE PROSPERS.--MONTAGU CONFERS WITH +HASTINGS, VISITS THE ARCHBISHOP OF YORK, AND IS MET ON THE ROAD BY A +STRANGE PERSONAGE. + +And now the one topic at the court of King Edward IV. was the expected +arrival of Anthony of Burgundy, Count de la Roche, bastard brother of +Charolois, afterwards, as Duke of Burgundy, so famous as Charles +the Bold. Few, indeed, out of the immediate circle of the Duchess of +Bedford’s confidants regarded the visit of this illustrious foreigner as +connected with any object beyond the avowed one of chivalrous encounter +with Anthony Woodville, the fulfilment of a challenge given by the +latter two years before, at the time of the queen’s coronation. The +origin of this challenge, Anthony Woodville Lord Scales has himself +explained in a letter to the bastard, still extant, and of which an +extract may be seen in the popular and delightful biographies of Miss +Strickland. [Queens of England, vol. iii. p. 380] It seems that, on the +Wednesday before Easter Day, 1465, as Sir Anthony was speaking to his +royal sister, “on his knees,” all the ladies of the court gathered +round him, and bound to his left knee a band of gold adorned with stones +fashioned into the letters S. S. (souvenance or remembrance), and to +this band was suspended an enamelled “Forget-me-not.” “And one of the +ladies said that ‘he ought to take a step fitting for the times.’” This +step was denoted by a letter on vellum, bound with a gold thread, placed +in his cap; and having obtained the king’s permission to bring the +adventure of the flower of souvenance to a conclusion, the gallant +Anthony forwarded the articles and the enamelled flower to the Bastard +of Burgundy, beseeching him to touch the latter with his knightly hand, +in token of his accepting the challenge. The Count de la Roche did +so, but was not sent by his brother amongst the knights whom Charolois +despatched to England, and the combat had been suspended to the present +time. + +But now the intriguing Rivers and his duchess gladly availed themselves +of so fair a pretext for introducing to Edward the able brother of +Warwick’s enemy and the French prince’s rival, Charles of Burgundy; +and Anthony Woodville, too gentle and knightly a person to have abetted +their cunning projects in any mode less chivalrous, willingly consented +to revive a challenge in honour of the ladies of England. + +The only one amongst the courtiers who seemed dissatisfied with the +meditated visit of the doughty Burgundian champion was the Lord Montagu. +This penetrating and experienced personage was not to be duped by an +affectation of that chivalry which, however natural at the court of +Edward III., was no longer in unison with the more intriguing and +ambitious times over which presided the luxurious husband of Elizabeth +Woodville. He had noticed of late, with suspicion, that Edward had held +several councils with the anti-Nevile faction, from which he himself was +excluded. The king, who heretofore had delighted in his companionship, +had shown him marks of coldness and estrangement; and there was an +exulting malice in the looks of the Duchess of Bedford, which augured +some approaching triumph over the great family which the Woodvilles so +openly laboured to supplant. One day, as Marmaduke was loitering in +the courtyard of the Tower, laughing and jesting with his friends, Lord +Montagu, issuing from the king’s closet, passed him with a hurried step +and a thoughtful brow. This haughty brother of the Earl of Warwick had +so far attended to the recommendation of the latter, that he had with +some courtesy excused himself to Marmaduke for his language in the +archery-ground, and had subsequently, when seeing him in attendance +on the king, honoured him with a stately nod, or a brief “Good morrow, +young kinsman.” But as his eye now rested on Marmaduke, while the group +vailed their bonnets to the powerful courtier, he called him forth, with +a familiar smile he had never before assumed, and drawing him apart, and +leaning on his shoulder, much to the envy of the standers by, he said +caressingly,-- + +“Dear kinsman Guy--” + +“Marmaduke, please you, my lord.” + +“Dear kinsman Marmaduke, my brother esteems you for your father’s sake. +And, sooth to say, the Neviles are not so numerous in court as they +were. Business and state matters have made me see too seldom those whom +I would most affect. Wilt thou ride with me to the More Park? I would +present thee to my brother the archbishop.” + +“If the king would graciously hold me excused.” + +“The king, sir! when I--I forgot,” said Montagu, checking himself--“oh, +as to that, the king stirs not out to-day! He hath with him a score of +tailors and armourers in high council on the coming festivities. I will +warrant thy release; and here comes Hastings, who shall confirm it.” + +“Fair my lord!”--as at that moment Hastings emerged from the little +postern that gave egress from the apartments occupied by the alchemist +of the Duchess of Bedford--“wilt thou be pleased, in thy capacity of +chamberlain, to sanction my cousin in a day’s absence? I would confer +with him on family matters.” + +“Certes, a small favour to so deserving a youth. I will see to his +deputy.” + +“A word with you, Hastings,” said Montagu, thoughtfully, and he +drew aside his fellow courtier: “what thinkest thou of this Burgundy +bastard’s visit?” + +“That it has given a peacock’s strut to the popinjay Anthony Woodville.” + +“Would that were all!” returned Montagu. “But the very moment that +Warwick is negotiating with Louis of France, this interchange of +courtesies with Louis’s deadly foe, the Count of Charolois, is out of +season.” + +“Nay, take it not so gravely,--a mere pastime.” + +“Hastings, thou knowest better. But thou art no friend of my great +brother.” + +“Small cause have I to be so,” answered Hastings, with a quivering lip. +“To him and your father I owe as deep a curse as ever fell on the heart +of man. I have lived to be above even Lord Warwick’s insult. Yet young, +I stand amongst the warriors and peers of England with a crest as haught +and a scutcheon as stainless as the best. I have drunk deep of the +world’s pleasures. I command, as I list, the world’s gaudy pomps, and I +tell thee, that all my success in life countervails not the agony of the +hour when all the bloom and loveliness of the earth faded into winter, +and the only woman I ever loved was sacrificed to her brother’s pride.” + +The large drops stood on the pale brow of the fortunate noble as he thus +spoke, and his hollow voice affected even the worldly Montagu. + +“Tush, Hastings!” said Montagu, kindly; “these are but a young man’s +idle memories. Are we not all fated, in our early years, to love in +vain?--even I married not the maiden I thought the fairest, and held +the dearest. For the rest, bethink thee,--thou wert then but a simple +squire.” + +“But of as ancient and pure a blood as ever rolled its fiery essence +through a Norman’s veins.” + +“It may be so; but old Houses, when impoverished, are cheaply held. And +thou must confess thou wert then no mate for Katherine. Now, indeed, it +were different; now a Nevile might be proud to call Hastings brother.” + +“I know it,” said Hastings, proudly,--“I know it, lord; and why? +Because I have gold, and land, and the king’s love, and can say, as the +Centurion, to my fellow-man, ‘Do this, and he doeth it;’ and yet I tell +thee, Lord Montagu, that I am less worthy now the love of beauty, the +right hand of fellowship from a noble spirit, than I was then, when--the +simple squire--my heart full of truth and loyalty, with lips that had +never lied, with a soul never polluted by unworthy pleasures or mean +intrigues, I felt that Katherine Nevile should never blush to own her +fere and plighted lord in William de Hastings. Let this pass, let it +pass! You call me no friend to Warwick. True! but I am a friend to +the king he has served, and the land of my birth to which he has given +peace; and therefore, not till Warwick desert Edward, not till he wake +the land again to broil and strife, will I mingle in the plots of those +who seek his downfall. If in my office and stated rank I am compelled to +countenance the pageant of this mock tournament, and seem to honour the +coming of the Count de la Roche, I will at least stand aloof and free +from all attempt to apply a gaudy pageant to a dangerous policy; and on +this pledge, Montagu, I give you my knightly hand.” + +“It suffices,” answered Montagu, pressing the hand extended to him. “But +the other day I heard the king’s dissour tell him a tale of some tyrant, +who silently showed a curious questioner how to govern a land, by +cutting down, with his staff, the heads of the tallest poppies; and the +Duchess of Bedford turned to me, and asked, ‘What says a Nevile to +the application?’ ‘Faith, lady,’ said I, ‘the Nevile poppies have oak +stems.’ Believe me, Hastings, these Woodvilles may grieve and wrong and +affront Lord Warwick, but woe to all the pigmy goaders when the lion +turns at bay!” + +With this solemn menace, Montagu quitted Hastings, and passed on, +leaning upon Marmaduke, and with a gloomy brow. + +At the gate of the palace waited the Lord Montagu’s palfrey and his +retinue of twenty squires and thirty grooms. “Mount, Master Marmaduke, +and take thy choice among these steeds, for we shall ride alone. There +is no Nevile amongst these gentlemen.” Marmaduke obeyed. The earl +dismissed his retinue, and in little more than ten minutes,--so +different, then, was the extent of the metropolis,--the noble and the +squire were amidst the open fields. + +They had gone several miles at a brisk trot before the earl opened his +lips, and then, slackening his pace, he said abruptly, “How dost thou +like the king? Speak out, youth; there are no eavesdroppers here.” + +“He is a most gracious master and a most winning gentleman.” + +“He is both,” said Montagu, with a touch of emotion that surprised +Marmaduke; “and no man can come near without loving him. And yet, +Marmaduke (is that thy name?)--yet whether it be weakness or falseness, +no man can be sure of his king’s favour from day to day. We Neviles must +hold fast to each other. Not a stick should be lost if the fagot is to +remain unbroken. What say you?” and the earl’s keen eye turned sharply +on the young man. + +“I say, my lord, that the Earl of Warwick was to me patron, lord, and +father, when I entered yon city a friendless orphan; and that, though +I covet honours, and love pleasure, and would be loth to lift finger or +speak word against King Edward, yet were that princely lord--the head of +mine House--an outcast and a beggar, by his side I would wander, for his +bread I would beg.” + +“Young man,” exclaimed Montagu, “from this hour I admit thee to my +heart! Give me thy hand. Beggar and outcast?--No! If the storm come, the +meaner birds take to shelter, the eagle remains solitary in heaven!” So +saying, he relapsed into silence, and put spurs to his steed. Towards +the decline of day they drew near to the favourite palace of the +Archbishop of York. There the features of the country presented a more +cultivated aspect than it had hitherto worn. For at that period the +lands of the churchmen were infinitely in advance of those of the laity +in the elementary arts of husbandry, partly because the ecclesiastic +proprietors had greater capital at their command, partly because their +superior learning had taught them to avail themselves, in some +measure, of the instructions of the Latin writers. Still the prevailing +characteristic of the scenery was pasture land,--immense tracts of +common supported flocks of sheep; the fragrance of new-mown hay breathed +sweet from many a sunny field. In the rear stretched woods of Druid +growth; and in the narrow lanes, that led to unfrequent farms and +homesteads, built almost entirely either of wood or (more primitive +still) of mud and clay, profuse weeds, brambles, and wild-flowers almost +concealed the narrow pathway, never intended for cart or wagon, and +arrested the slow path of the ragged horse bearing the scanty produce +of acres to yard or mill. But though to the eye of an economist or +philanthropist broad England now, with its variegated agriculture, its +wide roads, its white-walled villas, and numerous towns, may present a +more smiling countenance, to the early lover of Nature, fresh from the +child-like age of poetry and romance, the rich and lovely verdure which +gave to our mother-country the name of “Green England;” its wild woods +and covert alleys, proffering adventure to fancy; its tranquil heaths, +studded with peaceful flocks, and vocal, from time to time, with the +rude scrannel of the shepherd,--had a charm which we can understand +alone by the luxurious reading of our elder writers. For the country +itself ministered to that mingled fancy and contemplation which the +stirring and ambitious life of towns and civilization has in much +banished from our later literature. + +Even the thoughtful Montagu relaxed his brow as he gazed around, and he +said to Marmaduke, in a gentle and subdued voice,-- + +“Methinks, young cousin, that in such scenes, those silly rhymes taught +us in our childhood of the green woods and the summer cuckoos, of bold +Robin and Maid Marian, ring back in our ears. Alas that this fair land +should be so often dyed in the blood of her own children! Here, how the +thought shrinks from broils and war,--civil war, war between brother +and brother, son and father! In the city and the court, we forget others +overmuch, from the too keen memory of ourselves.” + +Scarcely had Montagu said these words, before there suddenly emerged +from a bosky lane to the right a man mounted upon a powerful roan +horse. His dress was that of a substantial franklin; a green surtout +of broadcloth, over a tight vest of the same colour, left, to the +admiration of a soldierly eye, an expanse of chest that might have vied +with the mighty strength of Warwick himself. A cap, somewhat like a +turban, fell in two ends over the left cheek, till they touched +the shoulder, and the upper part of the visage was concealed by a +half-vizard, not unfrequently worn out of doors with such head-gear, +as a shade from the sun. Behind this person rode, on a horse equally +powerful, a man of shorter stature, but scarcely less muscular a frame, +clad in a leathern jerkin, curiously fastened with thongs, and wearing a +steel bonnet, projecting far over the face. + +The foremost of these strangers, coming thus unawares upon the +courtiers, reined in his steed, and said in a clear, full voice, “Good +evening to you, my masters. It is not often that these roads witness +riders in silk and pile.” + +“Friend,” quoth the Montagu, “may the peace we enjoy under the White +Rose increase the number of all travellers through our land, whether in +pile or russet!” + +“Peace, sir!” returned the horseman, roughly,--“peace is no blessing to +poor men, unless it bring something more than life,--the means to live +in security and ease. Peace hath done nothing for the poor of England. +Why, look you towards yon gray tower,--the owner is, forsooth, gentleman +and knight; but yesterday he and his men broke open a yeoman’s house, +carried off his wife and daughters to his tower, and refuseth to +surrender them till ransomed by half the year’s produce on the yeoman’s +farm.” + +“A caitiff and illegal act,” said Montagu. + +“Illegal! But the law will notice it not,--why should it? Unjust, if it +punish the knight and dare not touch the king’s brother!” + +“How, sir?” + +“I say the king’s brother! Scarcely a month since, twenty-four persons +under George Duke of Clarence entered by force a lady’s house, +and seized her jewels and her money, upon some charge, God wot, of +contriving mischief to the boy-duke. [See for this and other instances +of the prevalent contempt of law in the reign of Edward IV., +and, indeed, during the fifteenth century, the extracts from the +Parliamentary Rolls, quoted by Sharon Turner, “History of England,” + vol. iii. p. 399.] Are not the Commons ground by imposts for the queen’s +kindred? Are not the king’s officers and purveyors licensed spoilers and +rapiners? Are not the old chivalry banished for new upstarts? And in all +this, is peace better than war?” + +“Knowest thou not that these words are death, man?” + +“Ay, in the city! but in the fields and waste thought is free. Frown +not, my lord. Ah, I know you, and the time may come when the baron will +act what the franklin speaks. What! think you I see not the signs of the +storm? Are Warwick and Montagu more safe with Edward than they were with +Henry? Look to thyself! Charolois will outwit King Louis, and ere the +year be out, the young Margaret of England will be lady of your brave +brother’s sternest foe!” + +“And who art thou, knave?” cried Montagu, aghast, and laying his gloved +hand on the bold prophet’s bridle. + +“One who has sworn the fall of the House of York, and may live to fight, +side by side, in that cause with Warwick; for Warwick, whatever be his +faults, has an English heart, and loves the Commons.” + +Montagu, uttering an exclamation of astonishment, relaxed hold of the +franklin’s bridle; and the latter waved his hand, and spurring his steed +across the wild chain of commons, disappeared with his follower. + +“A sturdy traitor!” muttered the earl, following him with his eye. “One +of the exiled Lancastrian lords, perchance. Strange how they pierce into +our secrets! Heardst thou that fellow, Marmaduke?” + +“Only in a few sentences, and those brought my hand to my dagger. But +as thou madest no sign, I thought his grace the king could not be much +injured by empty words.” + +“True! and misfortune has ever a shrewish tongue.” + +“An’ it please you, my lord,” quoth Marmaduke, “I have seen the man +before, and it seemeth to me that he holds much power over the rascal +rabble.” And here Marmaduke narrated the attack upon Warner’s house, and +how it was frustrated by the intercession of Robin of Redesdale. + +“Art thou sure it is the same man, for his face was masked?” + +“My lord, in the North, as thou knowest, we recognize men by their +forms, not faces,--as in truth we ought, seeing that it is the sinews +and bulk, not the lips and nose, that make a man a useful friend or +dangerous foe.” + +Montagu smiled at this soldierly simplicity. “And heard you the name the +raptrils shouted?” + +“Robin, my lord. They cried out ‘Robin,’ as if it had been a ‘Montagu I +or a ‘Warwick.’” + +“Robin! ah, then I guess the man,--a most perilous and stanch +Lancastrian. He has more weight with the poor than had Cade the rebel, +and they say Margaret trusts him as much as she does an Exeter or +Somerset. I marvel that he should show himself so near the gates +of London. It must be looked to. But come, cousin. Our steeds are +breathed,--let us on!” + +On arriving at the More, its stately architecture, embellished by the +prelate with a facade of double arches, painted and blazoned somewhat in +the fashion of certain old Italian houses, much dazzled Marmaduke. And +the splendour of the archbishop’s retinue--less martial indeed than +Warwick’s--was yet more imposing to the common eye. Every office that +pomp could devise for a king’s court was to be found in the household +of this magnificent prelate,--master of the horse and the hounds, +chamberlain, treasurer, pursuivant, herald, seneschal, captain of the +body-guard, etc.,--and all emulously sought for and proudly held by +gentlemen of the first blood and birth. His mansion was at once a court +for middle life, a school for youth, an asylum for age; and thither, as +to a Medici, fled the letters and the arts. + +Through corridor and hall, lined with pages and squires, passed Montagu +and Marmaduke, till they gained a quaint garden, the wonder and envy of +the time, planned by an Italian of Mantua, and perhaps the stateliest +one of the kind existent in England. Straight walks, terraces, and +fountains, clipped trees, green alleys, and smooth bowling-greens +abounded; but the flowers were few and common: and if here and there a +statue might be found, it possessed none of the art so admirable in our +earliest ecclesiastical architecture, but its clumsy proportions were +made more uncouth by a profusion of barbaric painting and gilding. The +fountains, however, were especially curious, diversified, and elaborate: +some shot up as pyramids, others coiled in undulating streams, each jet +chasing the other as serpents; some, again, branched off in the form of +trees, while mimic birds, perched upon leaden boughs, poured water +from their bills. Marmaduke, much astonished and bewildered, muttered +a paternoster in great haste; and even the clerical rank of the prelate +did not preserve him from the suspicion of magical practices in the +youth’s mind. + +Remote from all his train, in a little arbour overgrown with the +honeysuckle and white rose, a small table before him bearing fruits, +confectionery, and spiced wines (for the prelate was a celebrated +epicure, though still in the glow of youth), they found George Nevile, +reading lazily a Latin manuscript. + +“Well, my dear lord and brother,” said Montagu, laying his arm on the +prelate’s shoulder, “first let me present to thy favour a gallant youth, +Marmaduke Nevile, worthy his name and thy love.” + +“He is welcome, Montagu, to our poor house,” said the archbishop, +rising, and complacently glancing at his palace, splendidly gleaming +through the trellis-work. “‘Puer ingenui vultus.’ Thou art acquainted, +doubtless, young sir, with the Humaner Letters?” + +“Well-a-day, my lord, my nurturing was somewhat neglected in the +province,” said Marmaduke, disconcerted, and deeply blushing, “and only +of late have I deemed the languages fit study for those not reared for +our Mother Church.” + +“Fie, sir, fie! Correct that error, I pray thee. Latin teaches the +courtier how to thrive, the soldier how to manoeuvre, the husbandman +how to sow; and if we churchmen are more cunning, as the profane call us +(and the prelate smiled) than ye of the laity, the Latin must answer for +the sins of our learning.” + +With this, the archbishop passed his arm affectionately through his +brother’s, and said, “Beshrew me, Montagu, thou lookest worn and weary. +Surely thou lackest food, and supper shall be hastened. Even I, who have +but slender appetite, grow hungered in these cool gloaming hours.” + +“Dismiss my comrade, George,--I would speak to thee,” whispered Montagu. + +“Thou knowest not Latin?” said the archbishop, turning with a +compassionate eye to Nevile, whose own eye was amorously fixed on the +delicate confectioneries,--“never too late to learn. Hold, here is a +grammar of the verbs, that, with mine own hand, I have drawn up for +youth. Study thine amo and thy moneo, while I confer on Church matters +with giddy Montagu. I shall expect, ere we sup, that thou wilt have +mastered the first tenses.” + +“But--” + +“Oh, nay, nay; but me no buts. Thou art too tough, I fear me, for +flagellation, a wondrous improver of tender youth,”--and the prelate +forced his grammar into the reluctant hands of Marmaduke, and sauntered +down one of the solitary alleys with his brother. + +Long and earnest was their conference, and at one time keen were their +dispute’s. + +The archbishop had very little of the energy of Montagu or the +impetuosity of Warwick, but he had far more of what we now call mind, as +distinct from talent, than either; that is, he had not their capacities +for action, but he had a judgment and sagacity that made him considered +a wise and sound adviser: this he owed principally to the churchman’s +love of ease, and to his freedom from the wear and tear of the passions +which gnawed the great minister and the aspiring courtier; his natural +intellect was also fostered by much learning. George Nevile had been +reared, by an Italian ecclesiastic, in all the subtle diplomacy of the +Church; and his ambition, despising lay objects (though he consented to +hold the office of chancellor), was concentrated in that kingdom over +kings which had animated the august dominators of religious Rome. +Though, as we have said, still in that age when the affections are +usually vivid, [He was consecrated Bishop of Exeter at the age of +twenty; at twenty-six he became Archbishop of York, and was under thirty +at the time referred to in the text.] George Nevile loved no human +creature,--not even his brothers; not even King Edward, who, with all +his vices, possessed so eminently the secret that wins men’s hearts. +His early and entire absorption in the great religious community, which +stood apart from the laymen in order to control them, alienated him from +his kind; and his superior instruction only served to feed him with a +calm and icy contempt for all that prejudice, as he termed it, held dear +and precious. He despised the knight’s wayward honour, the burgher’s +crafty honesty. For him no such thing as principle existed; and +conscience itself lay dead in the folds of a fancied exemption from all +responsibility to the dull herd, that were but as wool and meat to the +churchman shepherd. But withal, if somewhat pedantic, he had in his +manner a suavity and elegance and polish which suited well his high +station, and gave persuasion to his counsels. In all externals he was as +little like a priest as the high-born prelates of that day usually were. +In dress he rivalled the fopperies of the Plantagenet brothers; in the +chase he was more ardent than Warwick had been in his earlier youth; and +a dry sarcastic humour, sometimes elevated into wit, gave liveliness to +his sagacious converse. + +Montagu desired that the archbishop and himself should demand solemn +audience of Edward, and gravely remonstrate with the king on the +impropriety of receiving the brother of a rival suitor, while Warwick +was negotiating the marriage of Margaret with a prince of France. + +“Nay,” said the archbishop, with a bland smile, that fretted Montagu +to the quick, “surely even a baron, a knight, a franklin, a poor priest +like myself, would rise against the man who dictated to his hospitality. +Is a king less irritable than baron, knight, franklin, and priest,--or +rather, being, as it were, per legem, lord of all, hath he not +irritability eno’ for all four? Ay, tut and tush as thou wilt, John, but +thy sense must do justice to my counsel at the last. I know Edward well; +he hath something of mine own idlesse and ease of temper, but with more +of the dozing lion than priests, who have only, look you, the mildness +of the dove. Prick up his higher spirit, not by sharp remonstrance, but +by seeming trust. Observe to him, with thy gay, careless laugh--which, +methinks, thou hast somewhat lost of late--that with any other prince +Warwick might suspect some snare, some humiliating overthrow of his +embassage, but that all men know how steadfast in faith and honour is +Edward IV.” + +“Truly,” said Montagu, with a forced smile, “you understand mankind; but +yet, bethink you--suppose this fail, and Warwick return to England to +hear that he hath been cajoled and fooled; that the Margaret he had +crossed the seas to affiance to the brother of Louis is betrothed to +Charolois--bethink you, I say, what manner of heart beats under our +brother’s mail.” + +“Impiger, iracundus!” said the archbishop; “a very Achilles, to whom our +English Agamemnon, if he cross him, is a baby. All this is sad truth; +our parents spoilt him in his childhood, and glory in his youth, and +wealth, power, success, in his manhood. Ay! if Warwick be chafed, +it will be as the stir of the sea-serpent, which, according to the +Icelanders, moves a world. Still, the best way to prevent the danger is +to enlist the honour of the king in his behalf,--to show that our +eyes are open, but that we disdain to doubt, and are frank to confide. +Meanwhile send messages and warnings privately to Warwick.” + +These reasonings finally prevailed with Montagu, and the brothers +returned with one mind to the house. Here, as after their ablutions they +sat down to the evening meal, the archbishop remembered poor Marmaduke, +and despatched to him one of his thirty household chaplains. Marmaduke +was found fast asleep over the second tense of the verb amo. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. THE ARRIVAL OF THE COUNT DE LA ROCHE, AND THE VARIOUS +EXCITEMENT PRODUCED ON MANY PERSONAGES BY THAT EVENT. + +The prudence of the archbishop’s counsel was so far made manifest, that +on the next day Montagu found all remonstrance would have been too late. +The Count de la Roche had already landed, and was on his way to London. +The citizens, led by Rivers partially to suspect the object of the +visit, were delighted not only by the prospect of a brilliant pageant, +but by the promise such a visit conveyed of a continued peace with their +commercial ally; and the preparations made by the wealthy merchants +increased the bitterness and discontent of Montagu. At length, at the +head of a gallant and princely retinue, the Count de la Roche entered +London. Though Hastings made no secret of his distaste to the Count de +la Roche’s visit, it became his office as lord chamberlain to meet the +count at Blackwall, and escort him and his train, in gilded barges, to +the palace. + +In the great hall of the Tower, in which the story of Antiochus was +painted by the great artists employed under Henry III., and on the +elevation of the dais, behind which, across Gothic columns, stretched +draperies of cloth-of-gold, was placed Edward’s chair of state. Around +him were grouped the Dukes of Clarence and Gloucester, the Lords +Worcester, Montagu, Rivers, D’Eyncourt, St. John, Raoul de Fulke, and +others. But at the threshold of the chamber stood Anthony Woodville, the +knightly challenger, his knee bound by the ladye-badge of the S. S., +and his fine person clad in white-flowered velvet of Genoa, adorned with +pearls. Stepping forward, as the count appeared, the gallant Englishman +bent his knee half-way to the ground, and raising the count’s hand to +his lips, said in French, “Deign, noble sir, to accept the gratitude of +one who were not worthy of encounter from so peerless a hand, save +by the favour of the ladies of England, and your own courtesy, which +ennobles him whom it stoops to.” So saying, he led the count towards the +king. + +De la Roche, an experienced and profound courtier, and justly deserving +Hall’s praise as a man of “great witte, courage, valiantness, and +liberalitie,” did not affect to conceal the admiration which the +remarkable presence of Edward never failed to excite; lifting his hand +to his eyes, as if to shade them from a sudden blaze of light, he would +have fallen on both knees, but Edward with quick condescension raised +him, and, rising himself, said gayly,-- + +“Nay, Count de la Roche, brave and puissant chevalier, who hath crossed +the seas in honour of knighthood and the ladies, we would, indeed, +that our roiaulme boasted a lord like thee, from whom we might ask such +homage. But since thou art not our subject, it consoles us at least that +thou art our guest. By our halidame, Lord Scales, thou must look well +to thy lance and thy steed’s girths, for never, I trow, hast thou met a +champion of goodlier strength and knightlier mettle.” + +“My lord king,” answered the count, “I fear me, indeed, that a knight +like the Sieur Anthony, who fights under the eyes of such a king, will +prove invincible. Did kings enter the lists with kings, where, through +broad Christendom, find a compeer for your Highness?” + +“Your brother, Sir Count, if fame lies not,” returned Edward, slightly +laughing, and lightly touching the Bastard’s shoulder, “were a fearful +lance to encounter, even though Charlemagne himself were to revive with +his twelve paladins at his back. Tell us, Sir Count,” added the king, +drawing himself up,--“tell us, for we soldiers are curious in such +matters, hath not the Count of Charolois the advantage of all here in +sinews and stature?” + +“Sire,” returned De la Roche, “my princely brother is indeed mighty +with the brand and battle-axe, but your Grace is taller by half the +head,--and, peradventure, of even a more stalwart build; but that mere +strength in your Highness is not that gift of God which strikes the +beholder most.” + +Edward smiled good-humouredly at a compliment the truth of which was too +obvious to move much vanity, and said with a royal and knightly grace, +“Our House of York hath been taught, Sir Count, to estimate men’s beauty +by men’s deeds, and therefore the Count of Charolois hath long been +known to us--who, alas, have seen him not!--as the fairest gentleman +of Europe. My Lord Scales, we must here publicly crave your pardon. Our +brother-in-law, Sir Count, would fain have claimed his right to hold you +his guest, and have graced himself by exclusive service to your person. +We have taken from him his lawful office, for we kings are jealous, and +would not have our subjects more honoured than ourselves.” Edward turned +round to his courtiers as he spoke, and saw that his last words had +called a haughty and angry look to the watchful countenance of Montagu. +“Lord Hastings,” he continued, “to your keeping, as our representative, +we intrust this gentleman. He must need refreshment ere we present him +to our queen.” + +The count bowed to the ground, and reverently withdrew from the royal +presence, accompanied by Hastings. Edward then, singling Anthony +Woodville and Lord Rivers from the group, broke up the audience, and, +followed by those two noblemen, quitted the hall. + +Montagu, whose countenance had recovered the dignified and high-born +calm habitual to it, turned to the Duke of Clarence, and observed +indifferently, “The Count de la Roche hath a goodly mien, and a fair +tongue.” + +“Pest on these Burgundians!” answered Clarence, in an undertone, and +drawing Montagu aside. “I would wager my best greyhound to a scullion’s +cur that our English knights will lower their burgonets.” + +“Nay, sir, an idle holiday show. What matters whose lance breaks, or +whose destrier stumbles?” + +“Will you not, yourself, cousin Montagu--you who are so peerless in the +joust--take part in the fray?” + +“I, your Highness,--I, the brother of the Earl of Warwick, whom this +pageant hath been devised by the Woodvilles to mortify and disparage in +his solemn embassy to Burgundy’s mightiest foe!--I!” + +“Sooth to say,” said the young prince, much embarrassed, “it grieves +me sorely to hear thee speak as if Warwick would be angered at this +pastime. For, look you, Montagu, I, thinking only of my hate to Burgundy +and my zeal for our English honour, have consented, as high constable, +and despite my grudge to the Woodvilles, to bear the bassinet of our own +champion, and--” + +“Saints in heaven!” exclaimed Montagu, with a burst of his fierce +brother’s temper, which he immediately checked, and changed into a tone +that concealed, beneath outward respect, the keenest irony, “I crave +your pardon humbly for my vehemence, Prince of Clarence. I suddenly +remember me that humility is the proper virtue of knighthood. Your +Grace does indeed set a notable example of that virtue to the peers of +England; and my poor brother’s infirmity of pride will stand rebuked for +aye, when he hears that George Plantagenet bore the bassinet of Anthony +Woodville.” + +“But it is for the honour of the ladies,” said Clarence, falteringly; +“in honour of the fairest maid of all--the flower of English beauty--the +Lady Isabel--that I--” + +“Your Highness will pardon me,” interrupted Montagu; “but I do trust to +your esteem for our poor and insulted House of Nevile so far as to be +assured that the name of my niece Isabel will not be submitted to the +ribald comments of a base-born Burgundian.” + +“Then I will break no lance in the lists!” + +“As it likes you, prince,” replied Montagu, shortly; and, with a low +bow, he quitted the chamber, and was striding to the outer gate of the +Tower, when a sweet, clear voice behind him called him by his name. +He turned abruptly, to meet the dark eye and all-subduing smile of the +boy-Duke of Gloucester. + +“A word with you, Montagu, noblest and most prized, with your princely +brothers, of the champions of our House,--I read your generous +indignation with our poor Clarence. Ay, sir! ay!--it was a weakness in +him that moved even me. But you have not now to learn that his nature, +how excellent soever, is somewhat unsteady. His judgment alone lacks +weight and substance,--ever persuaded against his better reason by +those who approach his infirmer side; but if it be true that our cousin +Warwick intends for him the hand of the peerless Isabel, wiser heads +will guide his course.” + +“My brother,” said Montagu, greatly softened, “is much beholden to your +Highness for a steady countenance and friendship, for which I also, +believe me--and the families of Beauchamp, Montagu, and Nevile--are duly +grateful. But to speak plainly (which your Grace’s youthful candour, +so all-acknowledged, will permit), the kinsmen of the queen do now so +aspire to rule this land, to marry or forbid to marry, not only our own +children, but your illustrious father’s, that I foresee in this visit of +the bastard Anthony the most signal disgrace to Warwick that ever king +passed upon ambassador or gentleman. And this moves me more!--yea, I vow +to Saint George, my patron, it moves me more--by the thought of +danger to your royal House than by the grief of slight to mine; for +Warwick--but you know him.” + +“Montagu, you must soothe and calm your brother if chafed. I impose that +task on your love for us. Alack, would that Edward listened more to me +and less to the queen’s kith! These Woodvilles!--and yet they may live +to move not wrath but pity. If aught snapped the thread of Edward’s life +(Holy Paul forbid!), what would chance to Elizabeth, her brothers, her +children?” + +“Her children would mount the throne that our right hands built,” said +Montagu, sullenly. + +“Ah, think you so?--you rejoice me! I had feared that the barons might, +that the commons would, that the Church must, pronounce the unhappy +truth, that--but you look amazed, my lord! Alas, my boyish years are too +garrulous!” + +“I catch not your Highness’s meaning.” + +“Pooh, pooh! By Saint Paul, your seeming dulness proves your loyalty; +but with me, the king’s brother, frankness were safe. Thou knowest well +that the king was betrothed before to the Lady Eleanor Talbot; that +such betrothal, not set aside by the Pope, renders his marriage with +Elizabeth against law; that his children may (would to Heaven it were +not so!) be set aside as bastards, when Edward’s life no longer shields +them from the sharp eyes of men.” + +“Ah,” said Montagu, thoughtfully; “and in that case, George of Clarence +would wear the crown, and his children reign in England.” + +“Our Lord forefend,” said Richard, “that I should say that Warwick +thought of this when he deemed George worthy of the hand of Isabel. Nay, +it could not be so; for, however clear the claim, strong and powerful +would be those who would resist it, and Clarence is not, as you will +see, the man who can wrestle boldly,--even for a throne. Moreover, he is +too addicted to wine and pleasure to bid fair to outlive the king.” + +Montagu fixed his penetrating eyes on Richard, but dropped them, +abashed, before that steady, deep, unrevealing gaze, which seemed to +pierce into other hearts, and show nothing of the heart within. + +“Happy Clarence!” resumed the prince, with a heavy sigh, and after a +brief pause,--“a Nevile’s husband and a Warwick’s son--what can the +saints do more for men? You must excuse his errors--all our errors--to +your brother. You may not know, peradventure, sweet Montagu, how deep +an interest I have in maintaining all amity between Lord Warwick and the +king. For methinks there is one face fairer than fair Isabel’s, and one +man more to be envied than even Clarence. Fairest face to me in the wide +world is the Lady Anne’s! happiest man between the cradle and the grave +is he whom the Lady Anne shall call her lord! and if I--oh, look you, +Montagu, let there be no breach between Warwick and the king! Fare you +well, dear lord and cousin,--I go to Baynard’s Castle till these feasts +are over.” + +“Does not your Grace,” said Montagu, recovering from the surprise into +which one part of Gloucester’s address had thrown him--“does not your +Grace--so skilled in lance and horsemanship--preside at the lists?” + +“Montagu, I love your brother well enough to displease my king. The +great earl shall not say, at least, that Richard Plantagenet in his +absence forgot the reverence due to loyalty and merit. Tell him that; +and if I seem (unlike Clarence) to forbear to confront the queen and +her kindred, it is because you should make no enemies,--not the less for +that should princes forget no friends.” + +Richard said this with a tone of deep feeling, and, folding his arms +within his furred surcoat, walked slowly on to a small postern admitting +to the river; but there, pausing by a buttress which concealed him till +Montagu had left the yard, instead of descending to his barge, he turned +back into the royal garden. Here several of the court of both sexes +were assembled, conferring on the event of the day. Richard halted at a +distance, and contemplated their gay dresses and animated countenances +with something between melancholy and scorn upon his young brow. One +of the most remarkable social characteristics of the middle ages is +the prematurity at which the great arrived at manhood, shared in its +passions, and indulged its ambitions. Among the numerous instances in +our own and other countries that might be selected from history, few are +more striking than that of this Duke of Gloucester, great in camp and +in council at an age when nowadays a youth is scarcely trusted to the +discipline of a college. The whole of his portentous career was closed, +indeed, before the public life of modern ambition usually commences. +Little could those accustomed to see on our stage “the elderly ruffian” + [Sharon Turner] our actors represent, imagine that at the opening +of Shakspeare’s play of “Richard the Third” the hero was but in his +nineteenth year; but at the still more juvenile age in which he appears +in this our record, Richard of Gloucester was older in intellect, +and almost in experience, than many a wise man at the date of +thirty-three,--the fatal age when his sun set forever on the field of +Bosworth! + +The young prince, then, eyed the gaudy, fluttering, babbling assemblage +before him with mingled melancholy and scorn. Not that he felt, with the +acuteness which belongs to modern sentiment, his bodily defects amidst +that circle of the stately and the fair, for they were not of a nature +to weaken his arm in war or lessen his persuasive influences in peace. +But it was rather that sadness which so often comes over an active and +ambitious intellect in early youth, when it pauses to ask, in sorrow and +disdain, what its plots and counterplots, its restlessness and strife, +are really worth. The scene before him was of pleasure,--but in pleasure +neither the youth nor the manhood of Richard III. was ever pleased; +though not absolutely of the rigid austerity of Amadis or our Saxon +Edward, he was comparatively free from the licentiousness of his times. +His passions were too large for frivolous excitements. Already the +Italian, or, as it is falsely called, the Machiavelian policy, was +pervading the intellect of Europe, and the effects of its ruthless, +grand, and deliberate statecraft are visible from the accession of +Edward IV. till the close of Elizabeth’s reign. With this policy, which +reconciled itself to crime as a necessity of wisdom, was often blended a +refinement of character which disdained vulgar vices. Not skilled alone +in those knightly accomplishments which induced Caxton, with propriety, +to dedicate to Richard “The Book of the Order of Chivalry,” the Duke of +Gloucester’s more peaceful amusements were borrowed from severer Graces +than those which presided over the tastes of his royal brothers. He +loved, even to passion, the Arts, Music,--especially of the more Doric +and warlike kind,--Painting and Architecture; he was a reader of books, +as of men,--the books that become princes,--and hence that superior +knowledge of the principles of law and of commerce which his brief reign +evinced. More like an Italian in all things than the careless Norman +or the simple Saxon, Machiavel might have made of his character a +companion, though a contrast to that of Castruccio Castrucani. + +The crowd murmured and rustled at the distance, and still with folded +arms Richard gazed aloof, when a lady, entering the garden from the +palace, passed by him so hastily that she brushed his surcoat, and, +turning round in surprise, made a low reverence, as she exclaimed, +“Prince Richard! and alone amidst so many!” + +“Lady,” said the duke, “it was a sudden hope that brought me into this +garden,--and that was the hope to see your fair face shining above the +rest.” + +“Your Highness jests,” returned the lady, though her superb countenance +and haughty carriage evinced no opinion of herself so humble as her +words would imply. + +“My Lady of Bonville,” said the young duke, laying his hand on her arm, +“mirth is not in my thoughts at this hour.” + +“I believe your Highness; for the Lord Richard Plantagenet is not one of +the Woodvilles. The mirth is theirs to-day.” + +“Let who will have mirth,--it is the breath of a moment. Mirth cannot +tarnish glory,--the mirror in which the gods are glassed.” + +“I understand you, my lord,” said the proud lady; and her face, before +stern and high, brightened into so lovely a change, so soft and winning +a smile, that Gloucester no longer marvelled that that smile had rained +so large an influence on the fate and heart of his favourite Hastings. +The beauty of this noble woman was indeed remarkable in its degree, and +peculiar in its character. She bore a stronger likeness in feature to +the archbishop than to either of her other brothers; for the prelate +had the straight and smooth outline of the Greeks,--not like Montagu and +Warwick, the lordlier and manlier aquiline of the Norman race,--and +his complexion was feminine in its pale clearness. But though in this +resembling the subtlest of the brethren, the fair sister shared with +Warwick an expression, if haughty, singularly frank and candid in its +imperious majesty; she had the same splendid and steady brilliancy +of eye, the same quick quiver of the lip, speaking of nervous +susceptibility and haste of mood. The hateful fashion of that day which +pervaded all ranks, from the highest to the lowest, was the prodigal +use of paints and cosmetics, and all imaginable artificial adjuncts of a +spurious beauty. This extended often even to the men, and the sturdiest +warrior deemed it no shame to recur to such arts of the toilet as the +vainest wanton in our day would never venture to acknowledge. But the +Lady Bonville, proudly confident of her beauty, and possessing a purity +of mind that revolted from the littleness of courting admiration, +contrasted forcibly in this the ladies of the court. Her cheek was of a +marble whiteness, though occasionally a rising flush through the clear, +rich, transparent skin showed that in earlier youth the virgin bloom had +not been absent from the surface. There was in her features, when they +reposed, somewhat of the trace of suffering,--of a struggle, past it may +be, but still remembered. But when she spoke, those features lighted +up and undulated in such various and kindling life as to dazzle, to +bewitch, or to awe the beholder, according as the impulse moulded the +expression. Her dress suited her lofty and spotless character. Henry +VI. might have contemplated with holy pleasure its matronly decorum; the +jewelled gorget ascended to the rounded and dimpled chin; the arms were +bare only at the wrists, where the blue veins were seen through a +skin of snow; the dark glossy locks, which her tirewoman boasted, when +released, swept the ground, were gathered into a modest and simple +braid, surmounted by the beseeming coronet that proclaimed her rank. The +Lady Bonville might have stood by the side of Cornelia, the model of +a young and high-born matron, in whose virtue the honour of man might +securely dwell. + +“I understand you, my lord,” she said, with her bright, thankful smile; +“and as Lord Warwick’s sister, I am grateful.” + +“Your love for the great earl proves you are noble enough to forgive,” + said Richard, meaningly. “Nay, chide me not with that lofty look; you +know that there are no secrets between Hastings and Gloucester.” + +“My lord duke, the head of a noble House hath the right to dispose of +the hands of the daughters; I know nothing in Lord Warwick to forgive.” + +But she turned her head as she spoke, and a tear for a moment trembled +in that haughty eye. + +“Lady,” said Richard, moved to admiration, “to you let me confide my +secret. I would be your nephew. Boy though I be in years, my heart beats +as loudly as a man’s; and that heart beats for Anne.” + +“The love of Richard Plantagenet honours even Warwick’s daughter!” + +“Think you so? Then stand my friend; and, being thus my friend, +intercede with Warwick, if he angers at the silly holiday of this +Woodville pageant.” + +“Alas, sir! you know that Warwick listens to no interceders between +himself and his passions. But what then? Grant him wronged, aggrieved, +trifled with,--what then? Can he injure the House of York?” + +Richard looked in some surprise at the fair speaker. + +“Can he injure the House of York?--Marry, yes,” he replied bluntly. + +“But for what end? Whom else should he put upon the throne?” + +“What if he forgive the Lancastrians? What if--” + +“Utter not the thought, prince, breathe it not,” exclaimed the Lady +Bonville, almost fiercely. “I love and honour my brave brother, +despite--despite--” She paused a moment, blushed, and proceeded rapidly, +without concluding the sentence. “I love him as a woman of his House +must love the hero who forms its proudest boast. But if, for any +personal grudge, any low ambition, any rash humour, the son of my father +Salisbury could forget that Margaret of Anjou placed the gory head of +that old man upon the gates of York, could by word or deed abet the +cause of usurping and bloody Lancaster,--I would--I would--Out upon my +sex! I could do nought but weep the glory of Nevile and Monthermer gone +forever.” + +Before Richard could reply, the sound of musical instruments, and a +procession of heralds and pages proceeding from the palace, announced +the approach of Edward. He caught the hand of the dame of Bonville, +lifted it to his lips, and saying, “May fortune one day permit me to +face as the earl’s son the earl’s foes,” made his graceful reverence, +glided from the garden, gained his barge, and was rowed to the huge pile +of Baynard’s Castle, lately reconstructed, but in a gloomy and barbaric +taste, and in which, at that time, he principally resided with his +mother, the once peerless Rose of Raby. + +The Lady of Bonville paused a moment, and in that pause her countenance +recovered its composure. She then passed on, with a stately step, +towards a group of the ladies of the court, and her eye noted with proud +pleasure that the highest names of the English knighthood and nobility, +comprising the numerous connections of her family, formed a sullen +circle apart from the rest, betokening, by their grave countenances and +moody whispers, how sensitively they felt the slight to Lord Warwick’s +embassy in the visit of the Count de la Roche, and how little they were +disposed to cringe to the rising sun of the Woodvilles. There, collected +into a puissance whose discontent hard sufficed to shake a firmer throne +(the young Raoul de Fulke, the idolater of Warwick, the impersonation in +himself of the old Norman seignorie, in their centre), with folded arms +and lowering brows, stood the earl’s kinsmen, the Lords Fitzhugh and +Fauconberg: with them, Thomas Lord Stanley, a prudent noble, who rarely +sided with a malcontent, and the Lord St. John, and the heir of the +ancient Bergavennies, and many another chief, under whose banner marched +an army. Richard of Gloucester had shown his wit in refusing to mingle +in intrigues which provoked the ire of that martial phalanx. As the Lady +of Bonville swept by these gentlemen, their murmur of respectful homage, +their profound salutation, and unbonneted heads, contrasted forcibly +with the slight and grave, if not scornful, obeisance they had just +rendered to one of the queen’s sisters, who had passed a moment before +in the same direction. The lady still moved on, and came suddenly across +the path of Hastings, as, in his robes of state, he issued from the +palace. Their eyes met, and both changed colour. + +“So, my lord chamberlain,” said the dame, sarcastically, “the Count de +la Roche is, I hear, consigned to your especial charge.” + +“A charge the chamberlain cannot refuse, and which William Hastings does +not covet.” + +“A king had never asked Montagu and Warwick to consider amongst their +duties any charge they had deemed dishonouring.” + +“Dishonouring, Lady Bonville!” exclaimed Hastings, with a bent brow and +a flushed cheek,--“neither Montagu nor Warwick had, with safety, applied +to me the word that has just passed your lips.” + +“I crave your pardon,” answered Katherine, bitterly. “Mine articles +of faith in men’s honour are obsolete or heretical. I had deemed it +dishonouring in a noble nature to countenance insult to a noble enemy +in his absence. I had deemed it dishonouring in a brave soldier, a +well-born gentleman (now from his valiantness, merit, and wisdom +become a puissant and dreaded lord), to sink into that lackeydom and +varletaille which falsehood and cringing have stablished in these walls, +and baptized under the name of ‘courtiers.’ Better had Katherine de +Bonville esteemed Lord Hastings had he rather fallen under a king’s +displeasure than debased his better self to a Woodville’s dastard +schemings.” + +“Lady, you are cruel and unjust, like all your haughty race; and idle +were reply to one who, of all persons, should have judged me better. +For the rest, if this mummery humbles Lord Warwick, gramercy! there +is nothing in my memory that should make my share in it a gall to my +conscience; nor do I owe the Neviles so large a gratitude, that rather +than fret the pile of their pride, I should throw down the scaffolding +on which my fearless step hath clomb to as fair a height, and one +perhaps that may overlook as long a posterity, as the best baron that +ever quartered the Raven Eagle and the Dun Bull. But,” resumed Hastings, +with a withering sarcasm, “doubtless the Lady de Bonville more admires +the happy lord who holds himself, by right of pedigree, superior to +all things that make the statesman wise, the scholar learned, and the +soldier famous. Way there--back, gentles,”--and Hastings turned to the +crowd behind,--“way there, for my lord of Harrington and Bonville!” + +The bystanders smiled at each other as they obeyed; and a heavy, +shambling, graceless man, dressed in the most exaggerated fopperies of +the day, but with a face which even sickliness, that refines most faces, +could not divest of the most vacant dulness, and a mien and gait to +which no attire could give dignity, passed through the group, bowing +awkwardly to the right and left, and saying, in a thick, husky voice, +“You are too good, sirs,--too good: I must not presume so overmuch on my +seignorie. The king would keep me,--he would indeed, sirs; um--um--why, +Katherine--dame--thy stiff gorget makes me ashamed of thee. Thou wouldst +not think, Lord Hastings, that Katherine had a white skin,--a parlous +white skin. La, you now, fie on these mufflers!” The courtiers sneered; +Hastings, with a look of malignant and pitiless triumph, eyed the +Lady of Bonville. For a moment the colour went and came across her +transparent cheek; but the confusion passed, and returning the insulting +gaze of her ancient lover with an eye of unspeakable majesty, she placed +her arm upon her lord’s, and saying calmly, “An English matron cares but +to be fair in her husband’s eyes,” drew him away; and the words and +the manner of the lady were so dignified and simple, that the courtiers +hushed their laughter, and for the moment the lord of such a woman was +not only envied but respected. + +While this scene had passed, the procession preceding Edward had +filed into the garden in long and stately order. From another entrance +Elizabeth, the Princess Margaret, and the Duchess of Bedford, with their +trains, had already issued, and were now ranged upon a flight of marble +steps, backed by a columned alcove, hung with velvet striped into the +royal baudekin, while the stairs themselves were covered with leathern +carpets, powdered with the white rose and the fleur de lis; either side +lined by the bearers of the many banners of Edward, displaying the white +lion of March, the black bull of Clare, the cross of Jerusalem, the +dragon of Arragon, and the rising sun, which he had assumed as his +peculiar war-badge since the battle of Mortimer’s Cross. Again, and +louder, came the flourish of music; and a murmur through the crowd, +succeeded by deep silence, announced the entrance of the king. He +appeared, leading by the hand the Count de la Roche, and followed by the +Lords Scales, Rivers, Dorset, and the Duke of Clarence. All eyes were +bent upon the count, and though seen to disadvantage by the side of +the comeliest and stateliest and most gorgeously-attired prince in +Christendom, his high forehead, bright sagacious eye, and powerful frame +did not disappoint the expectations founded upon the fame of one equally +subtle in council and redoubted in war. + +The royal host and the princely guest made their way where Elizabeth, +blazing in jewels and cloth-of-gold, shone royally, begirt by the ladies +of her brilliant court. At her right hand stood her mother, at her left, +the Princess Margaret. + +“I present to you, my Elizabeth,” said Edward, “a princely gentleman, to +whom we nevertheless wish all ill-fortune,--for we cannot desire that he +may subdue our knights, and we would fain hope that he may be conquered +by our ladies.” + +“The last hope is already fulfilled,” said the count, gallantly, as +on his knee he kissed the fair hand extended to him. Then rising, and +gazing full and even boldly upon the young Princess Margaret, he added, +“I have seen too often the picture of the Lady Margaret not to be aware +that I stand in that illustrious presence.” + +“Her picture! Sir Count,” said the queen; “we knew not that it had been +ever limned.” + +“Pardon me, it was done by stealth.” + +“And where have you seen it?” + +“Worn at the heart of my brother the Count of Charolois!” answered De la +Roche, in a whispered tone. + +Margaret blushed with evident pride and delight; and the wily envoy, +leaving the impression his words had made to take their due effect, +addressed himself, with all the gay vivacity he possessed, to the fair +queen and her haughty mother. + +After a brief time spent in this complimentary converse, the count then +adjourned to inspect the menagerie, of which the king was very proud. +Edward, offering his hand to his queen, led the way, and the Duchess of +Bedford, directing the count to Margaret by a shrewd and silent glance +of her eye, so far smothered her dislike to Clarence as to ask his +highness to attend herself. + +“Ah, lady,” whispered the count, as the procession moved along, “what +thrones would not Charolois resign for the hand that his unworthy envoy +is allowed to touch!” + +“Sir,” said Margaret, demurely looking down, “the Count of Charolois is +a lord who, if report be true, makes war his only mistress.” + +“Because the only loving mistress his great heart could serve is denied +to his love! Ah, poor lord and brother, what new reasons for eternal war +to Burgundy, when France, not only his foe, becomes his rival!” + +Margaret sighed, and the count continued till by degrees he warmed +the royal maiden from her reserve; and his eye grew brighter, and a +triumphant smile played about his lips, when, after the visit to the +menagerie, the procession re-entered the palace, and the Lord Hastings +conducted the count to the bath prepared for him, previous to the +crowning banquet of the night. And far more luxurious and more splendid +than might be deemed by those who read but the general histories of that +sanguinary time, or the inventories of furniture in the houses even of +the great barons, was the accommodation which Edward afforded to his +guest. His apartments and chambers were hung with white silk and linen, +the floors covered with richly-woven carpets; the counterpane of his bed +was cloth-of-gold, trimmed with ermine; the cupboard shone with vessels +of silver and gold; and over two baths were pitched tents of white +cloth of Rennes fringed with silver. [See Madden’s Narrative of the Lord +Grauthuse; Archaelogia, 1830.] + +Agreeably to the manners of the time, Lord Hastings assisted to disrobe +the count; and, the more to bear him company, afterwards undressed +himself and bathed in the one bath, while the count refreshed his limbs +in the other. + +“Pri’thee,” said De la Roche, drawing aside the curtain of his tent, and +putting forth his head--“pri’thee, my Lord Hastings, deign to instruct +my ignorance of a court which I would fain know well, and let me weet +whether the splendour of your king, far exceeding what I was taught to +look for, is derived from his revenue as sovereign of England, or chief +of the House of York?” + +“Sir,” returned Hastings, gravely, putting out his own head, “it is +Edward’s happy fortune to be the wealthiest proprietor in England, +except the Earl of Warwick, and thus he is enabled to indulge a state +which yet oppresses not his people.” + +“Except the Earl of Warwick!” repeated the count, musingly, as the fumes +of the odours with which the bath was filled rose in a cloud over his +long hair,--“ill would fare that subject, in most lands, who was as +wealthy as his king! You have heard that Warwick has met King Louis at +Rouen, and that they are inseparable?” + +“It becomes an ambassador to win grace of him he is sent to please.” + +“But none win the grace of Louis whom Louis does not dupe.” + +“You know not Lord Warwick, Sir Count. His mind is so strong and +so frank, that it is as hard to deceive him as it is for him to be +deceived.” + +“Time will show,” said the count, pettishly, and he withdrew his head +into the tent. + +And now there appeared the attendants, with hippocras, syrups, and +comfits, by way of giving appetite for the supper, so that no further +opportunity for private conversation was left to the two lords. While +the count was dressing, the Lord Scales entered with a superb gown, +clasped with jewels, and lined with minever, with which Edward had +commissioned him to present the Bastard. In this robe the Lord Scales +insisted upon enduing his antagonist with his own hands, and the three +knights then repaired to the banquet. At the king’s table no male +personage out of the royal family sat, except Lord Rivers--as +Elizabeth’s father--and the Count de la Roche, placed between Margaret +and the Duchess of Bedford. + +At another table, the great peers of the realm feasted under the +presidence of Anthony Woodville, while, entirely filling one side of the +hall, the ladies of the court held their “mess” (so-called) apart, and +“great and mighty was the eating thereof!” + +The banquet ended, the dance began. The admirable “featliness” of the +Count de la Roche, in the pavon, with the Lady Margaret, was rivalled +only by the more majestic grace of Edward and the dainty steps of +Anthony Woodville. But the lightest and happiest heart which beat in +that revel was one in which no scheme and no ambition but those of love +nursed the hope and dreamed the triumph. + +Stung by the coldness even more than by the disdain of the Lady +Bonville, and enraged to find that no taunt of his own, however galling, +could ruffle a dignity which was an insult both to memory and to +self-love, Hastings had exerted more than usual, both at the banquet and +in the revel, those general powers of pleasing, which, even in an age +when personal qualifications ranked so high, had yet made him no less +renowned for successes in gallantry than the beautiful and youthful +king. All about this man witnessed to the triumph of mind over the +obstacles that beset it,--his rise without envy, his safety amidst +foes, the happy ease with which he moved through the snares and pits +of everlasting stratagem and universal wile! Him alone the arts of the +Woodvilles could not supplant in Edward’s confidence and love; to him +alone dark Gloucester bent his haughty soul; him alone, Warwick, who +had rejected his alliance, and knew the private grudge the rejection +bequeathed,--him alone, among the “new men,” Warwick always treated with +generous respect, as a wise patriot and a fearless soldier; and in +the more frivolous scenes of courtly life, the same mind raised one no +longer in the bloom of youth, with no striking advantages of person, and +studiously disdainful of all the fopperies of the time, to an equality +with the youngest, the fairest, the gaudiest courtier, in that rivalship +which has pleasure for its object and love for its reward. Many a heart +beat quicker as the graceful courtier, with that careless wit which +veiled his profound mournfulness of character, or with that delicate +flattery which his very contempt for human nature had taught him, moved +from dame to donzell; till at length, in the sight and hearing of the +Lady Bonville, as she sat, seemingly heedless of his revenge, amidst +a group of matrons elder than herself, a murmur of admiration made him +turn quickly, and his eye, following the gaze of the bystanders, rested +upon the sweet, animated face of Sibyll, flushed into rich bloom at the +notice it excited. Then as he approached the maiden, his quick glance +darting to the woman he had first loved told him that he had at last +discovered the secret how to wound. An involuntary compression of +Katherine’s proud lips, a hasty rise and fall of the stately neck, a +restless, indescribable flutter, as it were, of the whole frame, told +the experienced woman-reader of the signs of jealousy and fear. And he +passed at once to the young maiden’s side. Alas! what wonder that Sibyll +that night surrendered her heart to the happiest dreams; and finding +herself on the floors of a court, intoxicated by its perfumed air, +hearing on all sides the murmured eulogies which approved and justified +the seeming preference of the powerful noble, what wonder that she +thought the humble maiden, with her dower of radiant youth and exquisite +beauty, and the fresh and countless treasures of virgin love, might be +no unworthy mate of the “new lord”? + +It was morning [The hours of our ancestors, on great occasions, were not +always more seasonable than our own. Froissart speaks of court balls, in +the reign of Richard II., kept up till day.] before the revel ended; and +when dismissed by the Duchess of Bedford, Sibyll was left to herself, +not even amidst her happy visions did the daughter forget her office. +She stole into her father’s chamber. He, too, was astir and up,--at work +at the untiring furnace, the damps on his brow, but all Hope’s vigour at +his heart. So while Pleasure feasts, and Youth revels, and Love deludes +itself, and Ambition chases its shadows (chased itself by Death),--so +works the world-changing and world-despised SCIENCE, the life within +life, for all living,--and to all dead! + + + + +CHAPTER VII. THE RENOWNED COMBAT BETWEEN SIR ANTHONY WOODVILLE AND THE +BASTARD OF BURGUNDY. + +And now the day came for the memorable joust between the queen’s brother +and the Count de la Roche. By a chapter solemnly convoked at St. Paul’s, +the preliminaries were settled; upon the very timber used in decking the +lists King Edward expended half the yearly revenue derived from all the +forests of his duchy of York. In the wide space of Smithfield, destined +at a later day to blaze with the fires of intolerant bigotry, crowded +London’s holiday population: and yet, though all the form and parade +of chivalry were there; though in the open balconies never presided +a braver king or a comelier queen; though never a more accomplished +chevalier than Sir Anthony Lord of Scales, nor a more redoubted knight +than the brother of Charles the Bold, met lance to lance,--it was +obvious to the elder and more observant spectators, that the true spirit +of the lists was already fast wearing out from the influences of the +age; that the gentleman was succeeding to the knight, that a more silken +and scheming race had become the heirs of the iron men, who, under +Edward III., had realized the fabled Paladins of Charlemagne and Arthur. +But the actors were less changed than the spectators,--the Well-born +than the People. Instead of that hearty sympathy in the contest, that +awful respect for the champions, that eager anxiety for the honour of +the national lance, which, a century or more ago, would have moved the +throng as one breast, the comments of the bystanders evinced rather the +cynicism of ridicule, the feeling that the contest was unreal, and that +chivalry was out of place in the practical temper of the times. On the +great chessboard the pawns were now so marshalled, that the knight’s +moves were no longer able to scour the board and hold in check both +castle and king. + +“Gramercy,” said Master Stokton, who sat in high state as sheriff, +[Fabyan] “this is a sad waste of moneys; and where, after all, is the +glory in two tall fellows, walled a yard thick in armor, poking at each +other with poles of painted wood?” + +“Give me a good bull-bait!” said a sturdy butcher, in the crowd below; +“that’s more English, I take it, than these fooleries.” + +Amongst the ring, the bold ‘prentices of London, up and away betimes, +had pushed their path into a foremost place, much to the discontent of +the gentry, and with their flat caps, long hair, thick bludgeons, loud +exclamations, and turbulent demeanour, greatly scandalized the formal +heralds. That, too, was a sign of the times. Nor less did it show +the growth of commerce, that, on seats very little below the regal +balconies, and far more conspicuous than the places of earls and barons, +sat in state the mayor (that mayor a grocer!) [Sir John Yonge.--Fabyan] +and aldermen of the city. + +A murmur, rising gradually into a general shout, evinced the admiration +into which the spectators were surprised, when Anthony Woodville Lord +Scales--his head bare--appeared at the entrance of the lists,--so bold +and so fair was his countenance, so radiant his armour, and so richly +caparisoned his gray steed, in the gorgeous housings that almost swept +the ground; and around him grouped such an attendance of knights and +peers as seldom graced the train of any subject, with the Duke of +Clarence at his right hand, bearing his bassinet. + +But Anthony’s pages, supporting his banner, shared at least the popular +admiration with their gallant lord: they were, according to the old +custom, which probably fell into disuse under the Tudors, disguised in +imitation of the heraldic beasts that typified his armourial cognizance; +[Hence the origin of Supporters] and horrible and laidly looked they in +the guise of griffins, with artful scales of thin steel painted green, +red forked tongues, and griping the banner in one huge claw, while, much +to the marvel of the bystanders, they contrived to walk very statelily +on the other. “Oh, the brave monsters!” exclaimed the butcher. “Cogs +bones, this beats all the rest!” + +But when the trumpets of the heralds had ceased, when the words “Laissez +aller!” were pronounced, when the lances were set and the charge began, +this momentary admiration was converted into a cry of derision, by the +sudden restiveness of the Burgundian’s horse. This animal, of the pure +race of Flanders, of a bulk approaching to clumsiness, of a rich bay, +where, indeed, amidst the barding and the housings, its colour could be +discerned, had borne the valiant Bastard through many a sanguine field, +and in the last had received a wound which had greatly impaired its +sight. And now, whether scared by the shouting, or terrified by its +obscure vision, and the recollection of its wound when last bestrode by +its lord, it halted midway, reared on end, and, fairly turning round, +despite spur and bit, carried back the Bastard, swearing strange oaths, +that grumbled hoarsely through his vizor, to the very place whence he +had started. + +The uncourteous mob yelled and shouted and laughed, and wholly +disregarding the lifted wands and drowning the solemn rebukes of the +heralds, they heaped upon the furious Burgundian all the expressions of +ridicule in which the wit of Cockaigne is so immemorially rich. But the +courteous Anthony of England, seeing the strange and involuntary flight +of his redoubted foe, incontinently reined in, lowered his lance, and +made his horse, without turning round, back to the end of the lists in +a series of graceful gambadas and caracoles. Again the signal was +given, and this time the gallant bay did not fail his rider; ashamed, +doubtless, of its late misdemeanour, arching its head till it almost +touched the breast, laying its ears level on the neck, and with a snort +of anger and disdain, the steed of Flanders rushed to the encounter. +The Bastard’s lance shivered fairly against the small shield of the +Englishman; but the Woodville’s weapon, more deftly aimed, struck full +on the count’s bassinet, and at the same time the pike projecting from +the gray charger’s chaffron pierced the nostrils of the unhappy bay, +which rage and shame had blinded more than ever. The noble animal, stung +by the unexpected pain, and bitted sharply by the rider, whose seat +was sorely shaken by the stroke on his helmet, reared again, stood an +instant perfectly erect, and then fell backwards, rolling over and over +the illustrious burden it had borne. Then the debonair Sir Anthony of +England, casting down his lance, drew his sword, and dexterously caused +his destrier to curvet in a close circle round the fallen Bastard, +courteously shaking at him the brandished weapon, but without attempt to +strike. + +“Ho, marshal!” cried King Edward, “assist to his legs the brave count.” + +The marshal hastened to obey. “Ventrebleu!” quoth the Bastard, when +extricated from the weight of his steed, “I cannot hold by the clouds, +but though my horse failed me, surely I will not fail my companions;” + and as he spoke, he placed himself in so gallant and superb a posture, +that he silenced the inhospitable yell which had rejoiced in the +foreigner’s discomfiture. Then, observing that the gentle Anthony +had dismounted, and was leaning gracefully against his destrier, the +Burgundian called forth,-- + +“Sir Knight, thou hast conquered the steed, not the rider. We are now +foot to foot. The pole-axe, or the sword,--which? Speak!” + +“I pray thee, noble sieur,” quoth the Woodville, mildly, “to let the +strife close for this day, and when rest bath--” + +“Talk of rest to striplings,--I demand my rights!” + +“Heaven forefend,” said Anthony Woodville, lifting his hand on high, +“that I, favoured so highly by the fair dames of England, should demand +repose on their behalf. But bear witness,” he said (with the generosity +of the last true chevalier of his age, and lifting his vizor, so as +to be heard by the king, and even through the foremost ranks of the +crowd)--“bear witness, that in this encounter, my cause hath befriended +me, not mine arm. The Count de la Roche speaketh truly; and his steed +alone be blamed for his mischance.” + +“It is but a blind beast!” muttered the Burgundian. + +“And,” added Anthony, bowing towards the tiers rich with the beauty of +the court--“and the count himself assureth me that the blaze of yonder +eyes blinded his goodly steed.” Having delivered himself of this +gallant conceit, so much in accordance with the taste of the day, the +Englishman, approaching the king’s balcony, craved permission to finish +the encounter with the axe or brand. + +“The former, rather please you, my liege; for the warriors of Burgundy +have ever been deemed unconquered in that martial weapon.” + +Edward, whose brave blood was up and warm at the clash of steel, bowed +his gracious assent, and two pole-axes were brought into the ring. + +The crowd now evinced a more earnest and respectful attention than they +had hitherto shown, for the pole-axe, in such stalwart hands, was no +child’s toy. “Hum,” quoth Master Stokton, “there may be some merriment +now,--not like those silly poles! Your axe lops off a limb mighty +cleanly.” The knights themselves seemed aware of the greater gravity of +the present encounter. Each looked well to the bracing of his vizor; +and poising their weapons with method and care, they stood apart some +moments, eying each other steadfastly,--as adroit fencers with the small +sword do in our schools at this day. + +At length the Burgundian, darting forward, launched a mighty stroke at +the Lord Scales, which, though rapidly parried, broke down the guard, +and descended with such weight on the shoulder that but for the +thrice-proven steel of Milan, the benevolent expectation of Master +Stokton had been happily fulfilled. Even as it was, the Lord Scales +uttered a slight cry,--which might be either of anger or of pain,--and +lifting his axe with both hands, levelled a blow on the Burgundian’s +helmet that well nigh brought him to his knee. And now for the space +of some ten minutes, the crowd with charmed suspense beheld the almost +breathless rapidity with which stroke on stroke was given and parried; +the axe shifted to and fro, wielded now with both hands, now the left, +now the right, and the combat reeling, as it were, to and fro,--so that +one moment it raged at one extreme of the lists, the next at the other; +and so well inured, from their very infancy, to the weight of mail were +these redoubted champions, that the very wrestlers on the village green, +nay, the naked gladiators of old, might have envied their lithe agility +and supple quickness. + +At last, by a most dexterous stroke, Anthony Woodville forced the point +of his axe into the vizor of the Burgundian, and there so firmly did +it stick, that he was enabled to pull his antagonist to and fro at his +will, while the Bastard, rendered as blind as his horse by the stoppage +of the eye-hole, dealt his own blows about at random, and was placed +completely at the mercy of the Englishman. And gracious as the gentle +Sir Anthony was, he was still so smarting under many a bruise felt +through his dinted mail, that small mercy, perchance, would the Bastard +have found, for the gripe of the Woodville’s left hand was on his foe’s +throat, and the right seemed about to force the point deliberately +forward into the brain, when Edward, roused from his delight at that +pleasing spectacle by a loud shriek from his sister Margaret, echoed by +the Duchess of Bedford, who was by no means anxious that her son’s axe +should be laid at the root of all her schemes, rose, and crying, “Hold!” + with that loud voice which had so often thrilled a mightier field, cast +down his warderer. + +Instantly the lists opened; the marshals advanced, severed the +champions, and unbraced the count’s helmet. But the Bastard’s martial +spirit, exceedingly dissatisfied at the unfriendly interruption, +rewarded the attention of the marshals by an oath worthy his +relationship to Charles the Bold; and hurrying straight to the king, his +face flushed with wrath and his eyes sparkling with fire,-- + +“Noble sire and king,” he cried, “do me not this wrong! I am not +overthrown nor scathed nor subdued,--I yield not. By every knightly law +till one champion yields he can call upon the other to lay on and do his +worst.” + +Edward paused, much perplexed and surprised at finding his intercession +so displeasing. He glanced first at the Lord Rivers, who sat a little +below him, and whose cheek grew pale at the prospect of his son’s +renewed encounter with one so determined, then at the immovable aspect +of the gentle and apathetic Elizabeth, then at the agitated countenance +of the duchess, then at the imploring eyes of Margaret, who, with an +effort, preserved herself from swooning; and finally beckoning to him +the Duke of Clarence, as high constable, and the Duke of Norfolk, as +earl marshal, he said, “Tarry a moment, Sir Count, till we take +counsel in this grave affair.” The count bowed sullenly; the spectators +maintained an anxious silence; the curtain before the king’s gallery was +closed while the council conferred. At the end of some three minutes, +however, the drapery was drawn aside by the Duke of Norfolk; and Edward, +fixing his bright blue eye upon the fiery Burgundian, said gravely, +“Count de la Roche, your demand is just. According to the laws of the +list, you may fairly claim that the encounter go on.” + +“Oh, knightly prince, well said! My thanks. We lose time.--Squires, my +bassinet!” + +“Yea,” renewed Edward, “bring hither the count’s bassinet. By the laws, +the combat may go on at thine asking,--I retract my warderer. But, Count +de la Roche, by those laws you appeal to, the said combat must go on +precisely at the point at which it was broken off. Wherefore brace on +thy bassinet, Count de la Roche; and thou, Anthony Lord Scales, fix the +pike of thine axe, which I now perceive was inserted exactly where the +right eye giveth easy access to the brain, precisely in the same place. +So renew the contest, and the Lord have mercy on thy soul, Count de la +Roche!” + +At this startling sentence, wholly unexpected, and yet wholly according +to those laws of which Edward was so learned a judge, the Bastard’s +visage fell. With open mouth and astounded eyes, he stood gazing at the +king, who, majestically reseating himself, motioned to the heralds. + +“Is that the law, sire?” at length faltered forth the Bastard. + +“Can you dispute it? Can any knight or gentleman gainsay it?” + +“Then,” quoth the Bastard, gruffly, and throwing his axe to the ground, +“by all the saints in the calendar, I have had enough! I came hither to +dare all that beseems a chevalier, but to stand still while Sir Anthony +Woodville deliberately pokes out my right eye were a feat to show that +very few brains would follow. And so, my Lord Scales, I give thee my +right hand, and wish thee joy of thy triumph, and the golden collar.” + [The prize was a collar of gold, enamelled with the flower of the +souvenance.] + +“No triumph,” replied the Woodville, modestly, “for thou art only, as +brave knights should be, subdued by the charms of the ladies, which no +breast, however valiant, can with impunity dispute.” + +So saying, the Lord Scales led the count to a seat of honour near +the Lord Rivers; and the actor was contented, perforce, to become a +spectator of the ensuing contests. These were carried on till late at +noon between the Burgundians and the English, the last maintaining the +superiority of their principal champion; and among those in the +melee, to which squires were admitted, not the least distinguished and +conspicuous was our youthful friend, Master Marmaduke Nevile. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. HOW THE BASTARD OF BURGUNDY PROSPERED MORE IN HIS POLICY +THAN WITH THE POLE-AXE.-AND HOW KING EDWARD HOLDS HIS SUMMER CHASE IN +THE FAIR GROVES OF SHENE. + +It was some days after the celebrated encounter between the Bastard and +Lord Scales, and the court had removed to the Palace of Shene. The Count +de la Roche’s favour with the Duchess of Bedford and the young princess +had not rested upon his reputation for skill with the pole-axe, and it +had now increased to a height that might well recompense the diplomatist +for his discomfiture in the lists. + +In the mean while, the arts of Warwick’s enemies had been attended with +signal success. The final preparations for the alliance now virtually +concluded with Louis’s brother still detained the earl at Rouen, and +fresh accounts of the French king’s intimacy with the ambassador were +carefully forwarded to Rivers, and transmitted to Edward. Now, we have +Edward’s own authority for stating that his first grudge against Warwick +originated in this displeasing intimacy, but the English king was too +clear-sighted to interpret such courtesies into the gloss given them by +Rivers. He did not for a moment conceive that Lord Warwick was led +into any absolute connection with Louis which could link him to the +Lancastrians, for this was against common-sense; but Edward, with all +his good humour, was implacable and vindictive, and he could not endure +the thought that Warwick should gain the friendship of the man he +deemed his foe. Putting aside his causes of hatred to Louis in the +encouragement which that king had formerly given to the Lancastrian +exiles, Edward’s pride as sovereign felt acutely the slighting disdain +with which the French king had hitherto treated his royalty and his +birth. The customary nickname with which he was maligned in Paris was +“the Son of the Archer,” a taunt upon the fair fame of his mother, whom +scandal accused of no rigid fidelity to the Duke of York. Besides this, +Edward felt somewhat of the jealousy natural to a king, himself so +spirited and able, of the reputation for profound policy and statecraft +which Louis XI. was rapidly widening and increasing throughout the +courts of Europe. And, what with the resentment and what with the +jealousy, there had sprung up in his warlike heart a secret desire to +advance the claims of England to the throne of France, and retrieve the +conquests won by the Fifth Henry to be lost under the Sixth. Possessing +these feelings and these views, Edward necessarily saw in the alliance +with Burgundy all that could gratify both his hate and his ambition. The +Count of Charolois had sworn to Louis the most deadly enmity, and would +have every motive, whether of vengeance or of interest, to associate +himself heart in hand with the arms of England in any invasion of +France; and to these warlike objects Edward added, as we have so often +had cause to remark, the more peaceful aims and interests of commerce. +And, therefore, although he could not so far emancipate himself from +that influence, which both awe and gratitude invested in the Earl of +Warwick, as to resist his great minister’s embassy to Louis; and though, +despite all these reasons in favour of connection with Burgundy, he +could not but reluctantly allow that Warwick urged those of a still +larger and wiser policy, when showing that the infant dynasty of York +could only be made secure by effectually depriving Margaret of the sole +ally that could venture to assist her cause,--yet no sooner had Warwick +fairly departed than he inly chafed at the concession he had made, and +his mind was open to all the impressions which the earl’s enemies sought +to stamp upon it. As the wisdom of every man, however able, can but run +through those channels which are formed by the soil of the character, so +Edward with all his talents never possessed the prudence which fear +of consequences inspires. He was so eminently fearless, so scornful +of danger, that he absolutely forgot the arguments on which +the affectionate zeal of Warwick had based the alliance with +Louis,--arguments as to the unceasing peril, whether to his person +or his throne, so long as the unprincipled and plotting genius of the +French king had an interest against both; and thus he became only alive +to the representations of his passions, his pride, and his mercantile +interests. The Duchess of Bedford, the queen, and all the family of +Woodville, who had but one object at heart,--the downfall of Warwick and +his House,--knew enough of the earl’s haughty nature to be aware that +he would throw up the reins of government the moment he knew that Edward +had discredited and dishonoured his embassy; and, despite the suspicions +they sought to instil into their king’s mind, they calculated upon +the earl’s love and near relationship to Edward, upon his utter and +seemingly irreconcilable breach with the House of Lancaster, to render +his wrath impotent, and to leave him only the fallen minister, not the +mighty rebel. + +Edward had been thus easily induced to permit the visit of the Count de +la Roche, although he had by no means then resolved upon the course he +should pursue. At all events, even if the alliance with Louis was to +take place, the friendship of Burgundy was worth much to maintain. But +De la Roche soon made aware by the Duchess of Bedford of the ground on +which he stood, and instructed by his brother to spare no pains and to +scruple no promise that might serve to alienate Edward from Louis and +win the hand and dower of Margaret, found it a more facile matter than +his most sanguine hopes had deemed to work upon the passions and the +motives which inclined the king to the pretensions of the heir of +Burgundy. And what more than all else favoured the envoy’s mission was +the very circumstance that should most have defeated it,--namely, the +recollection of the Earl of Warwick; for in the absence of that powerful +baron and master-minister, the king had seemed to breathe more freely. +In his absence, he forgot his power. The machine of government, to his +own surprise, seemed to go on as well; the Commons were as submissive, +the mobs as noisy in their shouts, as if the earl were by. There was no +longer any one to share with Edward the joys of popularity, the sweets +of power. + +Though Edward was not Diogenes, he loved the popular sunshine, and +no Alexander now stood between him and its beams. Deceived by the +representations of his courtiers, hearing nothing but abuse of Warwick +and sneers at his greatness, he began to think the hour had come when he +might reign alone, and he entered, though tacitly, and not acknowledging +it even to himself, into the very object of the womankind about +him,--namely, the dismissal of his minister. + +The natural carelessness and luxurious indolence of Edward’s temper did +not however permit him to see all the ingratitude of the course he was +about to adopt. The egotism a king too often acquires, and no king so +easily as one like Edward IV., not born to a throne, made him consider +that he alone was entitled to the prerogatives of pride. As sovereign +and as brother, might he not give the hand of Margaret as he listed? +If Warwick was offended, pest on his disloyalty and presumption! And so +saying to himself, he dismissed the very thought of the absent earl, +and glided unconsciously down the current of the hour. And yet, +notwithstanding all these prepossessions and dispositions, Edward might +no doubt have deferred at least the meditated breach with his great +minister until the return of the latter, and then have acted with the +delicacy and precaution that became a king bound by ties of +gratitude and blood to the statesman he desired to discard, but for +a habit,--which, while history mentions, it seems to forget, in +the consequences it ever engenders,--the habit of intemperance. +Unquestionably to that habit many of the imprudences and levities of a +king possessed of so much ability are to be ascribed; and over his cups +with the wary and watchful De la Roche Edward had contrived to entangle +himself far more than in his cooler moments he would have been disposed +to do. + +Having thus admitted our readers into those recesses of that cor +inscrutabile,--the heart of kings,--we summon them to a scene peculiar +to the pastimes of the magnificent Edward. Amidst the shades of the +vast park, or chase, which then appertained to the Palace of Shene, the +noonday sun shone upon such a spot as Armida might have dressed for the +subdued Rinaldo. A space had been cleared of trees and underwood, and +made level as a bowling-green. Around this space the huge oak and +the broad beech were hung with trellis-work, wreathed with jasmine, +honeysuckle, and the white rose, trained in arches. Ever and anon +through these arches extended long alleys, or vistas, gradually lost +in the cool depth of foliage; amidst these alleys and around this space +numberless arbours, quaint with all the flowers then known in England, +were constructed. In the centre of the sward was a small artificial +lake, long since dried up, and adorned then with a profusion of +fountains, that seemed to scatter coolness around the glowing air. +Pitched in various and appropriate sites were tents of silk and the +white cloth of Rennes, each tent so placed as to command one of the +alleys; and at the opening of each stood cavalier or dame, with the bow +or crossbow, as it pleased the fancy or suited best the skill, looking +for the quarry, which horn and hound drove fast and frequent across the +alleys. Such was the luxurious “summer-chase” of the Sardanapalus of the +North. Nor could any spectacle more thoroughly represent that poetical +yet effeminate taste, which, borrowed from the Italians, made a short +interval between the chivalric and the modern age. The exceeding beauty +of the day, the richness of the foliage in the first suns of bright +July, the bay of the dogs, the sound of the mellow horn, the fragrance +of the air, heavy with noontide flowers, the gay tents, the rich dresses +and fair faces and merry laughter of dame and donzell,--combined to +take captive every sense, and to reconcile ambition itself, that eternal +traveller through the future, to the enjoyment of the voluptuous hour. +But there were illustrious exceptions to the contentment of the general +company. + +A courier had arrived that morning to apprise Edward of the unexpected +debarkation of the Earl of Warwick, with the Archbishop of Narbonne and +the Bastard of Bourbon,--the ambassadors commissioned by Louis to settle +the preliminaries of the marriage between Margaret and his brother. This +unwelcome intelligence reached Edward at the very moment he was sallying +from his palace gates to his pleasant pastime. He took aside Lord +Hastings, and communicated the news to his able favourite. “Put spurs to +thy horse, Hastings, and hie thee fast to Baynard’s Castle. Bring back +Gloucester. In these difficult matters that boy’s head is better than a +council.” + +“Your Highness,” said Hastings, tightening his girdle with one hand, +while with the other he shortened his stirrups, “shall be obeyed. I +foresaw, sire, that this coming would occasion much that my Lords Rivers +and Worcester have overlooked. I rejoice that you summon the Prince +Richard, who hath wisely forborne all countenance to the Burgundian +envoy. But is this all, sire? Is it not well to assemble also your +trustiest lords and most learned prelates, if not to overawe Lord +Warwick’s anger, at least to confer on the fitting excuses to be made to +King Louis’s ambassadors?” + +“And so lose the fairest day this summer hath bestowed upon us? +Tush!--the more need for pleasaunce to-day since business must come +to-morrow. Away with you, dear Will!” + +Hastings looked grave; but he saw all further remonstrance would be in +vain, and hoping much from the intercession of Gloucester, put spurs to +his steed and vanished. Edward mused a moment; and Elizabeth, who knew +every expression and change of his countenance, rode from the circle of +her ladies, and approached him timidly. Casting down her eyes, which she +always affected in speaking to her lord, the queen said softly,-- + +“Something hath disturbed my liege and my life’s life.” + +“Marry, yes, sweet Bessee. Last night, to pleasure thee and thy kin (and +sooth to say, small gratitude ye owe me, for it also pleased myself), I +promised Margaret’s hand, through De la Roche, to the heir of Burgundy.” + +“O princely heart!” exclaimed Elizabeth, her whole face lighted up with +triumph, “ever seeking to make happy those it cherishes. But is it that +which disturbs thee, that which thou repentest?” + +“No, sweetheart,--no. Yet had it not been for the strength of the clary, +I should have kept the Bastard longer in suspense. But what is done +is done. Let not thy roses wither when thou hearest Warwick is in +England,--nay, nay, child, look not so appalled; thine Edward is no +infant, whom ogre and goblin scare; and”--glancing his eye proudly round +as he spoke, and saw the goodly cavalcade of his peers and knights, with +his body-guard, tall and chosen veterans, filling up the palace-yard, +with the show of casque and pike--“and if the struggle is to come +between Edward of England and his subject, never an hour more ripe +than this; my throne assured, the new nobility I have raised around it, +London true, marrow and heart true, the provinces at peace, the ships +and the steel of Burgundy mine allies! Let the white Bear growl as he +list, the Lion of March is lord of the forest. And now, my Bessee,” + added the king, changing his haughty tone into a gay, careless laugh, +“now let the lion enjoy his chase.” + +He kissed the gloved hand of his queen, gallantly bending over his +saddle-bow, and the next moment he was by the side of a younger if not +a fairer lady, to whom he was devoting the momentary worship of his +inconstant heart. Elizabeth’s eyes shot an angry gleam as she beheld her +faithless lord thus engaged; but so accustomed to conceal and control +the natural jealousy that it never betrayed itself to the court or to +her husband, she soon composed her countenance to its ordinary smooth +and artificial smile, and rejoining her mother she revealed what had +passed. The proud and masculine spirit of the duchess felt only joy at +the intelligence. In the anticipated humiliation of Warwick, she forgot +all cause for fear. Not so her husband and son, the Lords Rivers and +Scales, to whom the news soon travelled. + +“Anthony,” whispered the father, “in this game we have staked our +heads.” + +“But our right hands can guard them well, sir,” answered Anthony; “and +so God and the ladies for our rights!” + +Yet this bold reply did not satisfy the more thoughtful judgment of the +lord treasurer, and even the brave Anthony’s arrows that day wandered +wide of their quarry. + +Amidst this gay scene, then, there were anxious and thoughtful bosoms. +Lord Rivers was silent and abstracted; his son’s laugh was hollow and +constrained; the queen, from her pavilion, cast, ever and anon, down the +green alleys more restless and prying looks than the hare or the deer +could call forth; her mother’s brow was knit and flushed. And keenly +were those illustrious persons watched by one deeply interested in the +coming events. Affecting to discharge the pleasant duty assigned him +by the king, the Lord Montagu glided from tent to tent, inquiring +courteously into the accommodation of each group, lingering, smiling, +complimenting, watching, heeding, studying, those whom he addressed. For +the first time since the Bastard’s visit he had joined in the diversions +in its honour; and yet so well had Montagu played his part at the court +that he did not excite amongst the queen’s relatives any of the hostile +feelings entertained towards his brother. No man, except Hastings, +was so “entirely loved” by Edward; and Montagu, worldly as he was, and +indignant against the king as he could not fail to be, so far repaid +the affection, that his chief fear at that moment sincerely was not for +Warwick but Edward. He alone of those present was aware of the cause of +Warwick’s hasty return, for he had privately despatched to him the news +of the Bastard’s visit, its real object, and the inevitable success of +the intrigues afloat, unless the earl could return at once, his mission +accomplished, and the ambassadors of France in his train; and even +before the courier despatched to the king had arrived at Shene, a +private hand had conveyed to Montagu the information that Warwick, +justly roused and alarmed, had left the state procession behind at +Dover, and was hurrying, fast as relays of steeds and his own fiery +spirit could bear him, to the presence of the ungrateful king. + +Meanwhile the noon had now declined, the sport relaxed, and the sound +of the trumpet from the king’s pavilion proclaimed that the lazy pastime +was to give place to the luxurious banquet. + +At this moment, Montagu approached a tent remote from the royal +pavilions, and, as his noiseless footstep crushed the grass, he heard +the sound of voices in which there was little in unison with the worldly +thoughts that filled his breast. + +“Nay, sweet mistress, nay,” said a young man’s voice, earnest with +emotion, “do not misthink me, do not deem me bold and overweening. I +have sought to smother my love, and to rate it, and bring pride to my +aid, but in vain; and, now, whether you will scorn my suit or not, +I remember, Sibyll--O Sibyll! I remember the days when we conversed +together; and as a brother, if nothing else--nothing dearer--I pray you +to pause well, and consider what manner of man this Lord Hastings is +said to be!” + +“Master Nevile, is this generous? Why afflict me thus; why couple my +name with so great a lord’s?” + +“Because--beware--the young gallants already so couple it, and their +prophecies are not to thine honour, Sibyll. Nay, do not frown on me. I +know thou art fair and winsome, and deftly gifted, and thy father may, +for aught I know, be able to coin thee a queen’s dower out of his awsome +engines. But Hastings will not wed thee, and his wooing, therefore, but +stains thy fair repute; while I--” + +“You!” said Montagu, entering suddenly--“you, kinsman, may look to +higher fortunes than the Duchess of Bedford’s waiting-damsel can bring +to thy honest love. How now, mistress, say, wilt thou take this young +gentleman for loving fere and plighted spouse? If so, he shall give thee +a manor for jointure, and thou shalt wear velvet robe and gold chain, as +a knight’s wife.” + +This unexpected interference, which was perfectly in character with the +great lords, who frequently wooed in very peremptory tones for their +clients and kinsmen, [See, in Miss Strickland’s “Life of Elizabeth +Woodville,” the curious letters which the Duke of York and the Earl +of Warwick addressed to her, then a simple maiden, in favour of their +protege, Sir R. Johnes.] completed the displeasure which the blunt +Marmaduke had already called forth in Sibyll’s gentle but proud nature. +“Speak, maiden,--ay or no?” continued Montagu, surprised and angered at +the haughty silence of one whom he just knew by sight and name, though +he had never before addressed her. + +“No, my lord,” answered Sibyll, keeping down her indignation at this +tone, though it burned in her cheek, flashed in her eye, and swelled in +the heave of her breast. “No! and your kinsman might have spared this +affront to one whom--but it matters not.” She swept from the tent as she +said this, and passed up the alley into that of the queen’s mother. + +“Best so; thou art too young for marriage, Marmaduke,” said Montagu, +coldly. “We will find thee a richer bride ere long. There is Mary of +Winstown, the archbishop’s ward, with two castles and seven knight’s +fees.” + +“But so marvellously ill-featured, my lord,” said poor Marmaduke, +sighing. + +Montagu looked at him in surprise. “Wives, sir,” he said, “are not made +to look at,--unless, indeed, they be the wives of other men. But dismiss +these follies for the nonce. Back to thy post by the king’s pavilion; +and by the way ask Lord Fauconberg and Aymer Nevile, whom thou wilt pass +by yonder arbour, ask them, in my name, to be near the pavilion while +the king banquets. A word in thine ear,--ere yon sun gilds the top of +those green oaks, the Earl of Warwick will be with Edward IV.; and come +what may, some brave hearts should be by to welcome him. Go!” + +Without tarrying for an answer, Montagu turned into one of the tents, +wherein Raoul de Fulke and the Lord St. John, heedless of hind and +hart, conferred; and Marmaduke, much bewildered, and bitterly wroth with +Sibyll, went his way. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. THE GREAT ACTOR RETURNS TO FILL THE STAGE. + +And now in various groups these summer foresters were at rest in their +afternoon banquet,--some lying on the smooth sward around the lake, some +in the tents, some again in the arbours; here and there the forms of +dame and cavalier might be seen, stealing apart from the rest, and +gliding down the alleys till lost in the shade, for under that reign +gallantry was universal. Before the king’s pavilion a band of those +merry jongleurs, into whom the ancient and honoured minstrels were fast +degenerating, stood waiting for the signal to commence their sports, +and listening to the laughter that came in frequent peals from the royal +tent. Within feasted Edward, the Count de la Roche, the Lord Rivers; +while in a larger and more splendid pavilion at some little distance, +the queen, her mother, and the great dames of the court held their own +slighter and less noisy repast. + +“And here, then,” said Edward, as he put his lips to a gold goblet, +wrought with gems, and passed it to Anthony the Bastard,--“here, count, +we take the first wassail to the loves of Charolois and Margaret!” + +The count drained the goblet, and the wine gave him new fire. + +“And with those loves, king,” said he, “we bind forever Burgundy and +England. Woe to France!” + +“Ay, woe to France!” exclaimed Edward, his face lighting up with that +martial joy which it ever took at the thoughts of war,--“for we will +wrench her lands from this huckster Louis. By Heaven! I shall not rest +in peace till York hath regained what Lancaster hath lost! and out of +the parings of the realm which I will add to England thy brother of +Burgundy shall have eno’ to change his duke’s diadem for a king’s. How +now, Rivers? Thou gloomest, father mine.” + +“My liege,” said Rivers, wakening himself, “I did but think that if the +Earl of Warwick--” + +“Ah, I had forgotten,” interrupted Edward; “and, sooth to say, Count +Anthony, I think if the earl were by, he would not much mend our +boon-fellowship!” + +“Yet a good subject,” said De la Roche, sneeringly, “usually dresses his +face by that of his king.” + +“A subject! Ay, but Warwick is much such a subject to England as William +of Normandy or Duke Rollo was to France. Howbeit, let him come,--our +realm is at peace, we want no more his battle-axe; and in our new +designs on France, thy brother, bold count, is an ally that might +compensate for a greater loss than a sullen minister. Let him come!” + +As the king spoke, there was heard gently upon the smooth turf the sound +of the hoofs of steeds. A moment more, and from the outskirts of the +scene of revel, where the king’s guards were stationed, there arose a +long, loud shout. Nearer and nearer came the hoofs of the steeds; they +paused. Doubtless Richard of Gloucester by that shout! “The soldiers +love that brave boy,” said the king. + +Marmaduke Nevile, as gentleman in waiting, drew aside the curtain of +the pavilion; and as he uttered a name that paled the cheeks of all who +heard, the Earl of Warwick entered the royal presence. + +The earl’s dress was disordered and soiled by travel; the black plume on +his cap was broken, and hung darkly over his face; his horseman’s boots, +coming half way up the thigh, were sullied with the dust of the journey; +and yet as he entered, before the majesty of his mien, the grandeur +of his stature, suddenly De Roche, Rivers, even the gorgeous Edward +himself, seemed dwarfed into common men! About the man--his air, his +eye, his form, his attitude--there was THAT which, in the earlier +times, made kings by the acclamation of the crowd,--an unmistakable +sovereignty, as of one whom Nature herself had shaped and stamped for +power and for rule. All three had risen as he entered; and to a deep +silence succeeded an exclamation from Edward, and then again all was +still. + +The earl stood a second or two calmly gazing on the effect he had +produced; and turning his dark eye from one to the other, till it rested +full upon De la Roche, who, after vainly striving not to quail beneath +the gaze, finally smiled with affected disdain, and, resting his hand on +his dagger, sank back into his seat. + +“My liege,” then said Warwick, doffing his cap, and approaching the king +with slow and grave respect, “I crave pardon for presenting myself to +your Highness thus travel-worn and disordered; but I announce that news +which insures my welcome. The solemn embassy of trust committed to me +by your Grace has prospered with God’s blessing; and the Fils de Bourbon +and the Archbishop of Narbonne are on their way to your metropolis. +Alliance between the two great monarchies of Europe is concluded on +terms that insure the weal of England and augment the lustre of your +crown. Your claims on Normandy and Guienne King Louis consents to submit +to the arbitrement of the Roman Pontiff, [The Pope, moreover, was to +be engaged to decide the question within four years. A more brilliant +treaty for England, Edward’s ambassador could not have effected.] and to +pay to your treasury annual tribute; these advantages, greater than your +Highness even empowered me to demand, thus obtained, the royal brother +of your new ally joyfully awaits the hand of the Lady Margaret.” + +“Cousin,” said Edward, who had thoroughly recovered himself, motioning +the earl to a seat, “you are ever welcome, no matter what your news; but +I marvel much that so deft a statesman should broach these matters +of council in the unseasonable hour and before the gay comrades of a +revel.” + +“I speak, sire,” said Warwick, calmly, though the veins in his forehead +swelled, and his dark countenance was much flushed--“I speak openly of +that which hath been done nobly; and this truth has ceased to be matter +of council, since the meanest citizen who has ears and eyes ere this +must know for what purpose the ambassadors of King Louis arrive in +England with your Highness’s representative.” + +Edward, more embarrassed at this tone than he could have foreseen, +remained silent; but De la Roche, impatient to humble his brother’s foe, +and judging it also discreet to arouse the king, said carelessly,-- + +“It were a pity, Sir Earl, that the citizens, whom you thus deem privy +to the thoughts of kings, had not prevised the Archbishop of Narbonne +that if he desire to see a fairer show than even the palaces of +Westminster and the Tower, he will hasten back to behold the banners of +Burgundy and England waving from the spires of Notre Dame.” + +Ere the Bastard had concluded, Rivers, leaning back, whispered the king, +“For Christ’s sake, sire, select some fitter scene for what must follow! +Silence your guest!” + +But Edward, on the contrary, pleased to think that De la Roche was +breaking the ice, and hopeful that some burst from Warwick would give +him more excuse than he felt at present for a rupture, said sternly, +“Hush, my lord, and meddle not!” + +“Unless I mistake,” said Warwick, coldly, “he who now accosts me is the +Count de la Roche,--a foreigner.” + +“And the brother of the heir of Burgundy,” interrupted De la +Roche,--“brother to the betrothed and princely spouse of Margaret of +England.” + +“Doth this man lie, sire?” said Warwick, who had seated himself a +moment, and who now rose again. + +The Bastard sprung also to his feet; but Edward, waving him back, and +reassuming the external dignity which rarely forsook him, replied, +“Cousin, thy question lacketh courtesy to our noble guest: since thy +departure, reasons of state, which we will impart to thee at a meeter +season, have changed our purpose, and we will now that our sister +Margaret shall wed with the Count of Charolois.” + +“And this to me, king!” exclaimed the earl; all his passions at once +released--“this to me! Nay, frown not, Edward,--I am of the race of +those who, greater than kings, have built thrones and toppled them! I +tell thee, thou hast misused mine honour, and belied thine own; thou +hast debased thyself in juggling me, delegated as the representative of +thy royalty!--Lord Rivers, stand back,--there are barriers eno’ between +truth and a king!” + +“By Saint George and my father’s head!” cried Edward, with a rage no +less fierce than Warwick’s,--“thou abusest, false lord, my mercy and +our kindred blood. Another word, and thou leavest this pavilion for the +Tower!” + +“King,” replied Warwick, scornfully, and folding his arms on his broad +breast, “there is not a hair on this head which thy whole house, thy +guards, and thine armies could dare to touch. ME to the Tower! Send +me,--and when the third sun reddens the roof of prison-house and palace, +look round broad England, and miss a throne!” + +“What, ho there!” exclaimed Edward, stamping his foot; and at that +instant the curtain of the pavilion was hastily torn aside, and Richard +of Gloucester entered, followed by Lord Hastings, the Duke of Clarence, +and Anthony Woodville. + +“Ah,” continued the king, “ye come in time. George of Clarence, Lord +High Constable of England, arrest yon haughty man, who dares to menace +his liege and suzerain!” + +Gliding between Clarence, who stood dumb and thunder-stricken, and the +Earl of Warwick, Prince Richard said, in a voice which, though even +softer than usual, had in it more command over those who heard than when +it rolled in thunder along the ranks of Barnet or of Bosworth, “Edward, +my brother, remember Towton, and forbear! Warwick, my cousin, forget not +thy king nor his dead father!” + +At these last words the earl’s face fell, for to that father he had +sworn to succour and defend the sons; his sense, recovering from his +pride, showed him how much his intemperate anger had thrown away his +advantages in the foul wrong he had sustained from Edward. Meanwhile the +king himself, with flashing eyes and a crest as high as Warwick’s, was +about perhaps to overthrow his throne by the attempt to enforce his +threat, when Anthony Woodville, who followed Clarence, whispered to him, +“Beware, sire! a countless crowd that seem to have followed the earl’s +steps have already pierced the chase, and can scarcely be kept from the +spot, so great is their desire to behold him. Beware!”--and Richard’s +quick ear catching these whispered words, the duke suddenly backed them +by again drawing aside the curtain of the tent. Along the sward, the +guard of the king, summoned from their unseen but neighbouring +post within the wood, were drawn up as if to keep back an immense +multitude,--men, women, children, who swayed and rustled and murmured +in the rear. But no sooner was the curtain drawn aside, and the guards +themselves caught sight of the royal princes and the great earl towering +amidst them, than supposing in their ignorance the scene thus given to +them was intended for their gratification, from that old soldiery or +Towton rose a loud and long “Hurrah! Warwick and the king!”--“The king +and the stout earl!” The multitude behind caught the cry; they rushed +forward, mingling with the soldiery, who no longer sought to keep them +back. + +“A Warwick! a Warwick!” they shouted. “God bless the people’s friend!” + +Edward, startled and aghast, drew sullenly into the rear of the tent. + +De la Roche grew pale; but with the promptness of a practised statesman, +he hastily advanced, and drew the curtain. “Shall varlets,” he said to +Richard, in French, “gloat over the quarrels of their lords?” + +“You are right, Sir Count,” murmured Richard, meekly; his purpose was +effected, and leaning on his riding staff, he awaited what was to ensue. + +A softer shade had fallen over the earl’s face, at the proof of the love +in which his name was held; it almost seemed to his noble though haughty +and impatient nature, as if the affection of the people had reconciled +him to the ingratitude of the king. A tear started to his proud eye; +but he twinkled it away, and approaching Edward (who remained erect, and +with all a sovereign’s wrath, though silent on his lip, lowering on his +brow), he said, in a tone of suppressed emotion,-- + +“Sire, it is not for me to crave pardon of living man, but the grievous +affront put upon my state and mine honour hath led my words to an excess +which my heart repents. I grieve that your Grace’s highness hath chosen +this alliance; hereafter you may find at need what faith is to be placed +in Burgundy.” + +“Darest thou gainsay it?” exclaimed De la Roche. + +“Interrupt me not, sir!” continued Warwick, with a disdainful gesture. +“My liege, I lay down mine offices, and I leave it to your Grace to +account as it lists you to the ambassadors of France,--I shall vindicate +myself to their king. And now, ere I depart for my hall of Middleham, I +alone here, unarmed and unattended, save at least by a single squire, +I, Richard Nevile, say, that if any man, peer or knight, can be found +to execute your Grace’s threat, and arrest me, I will obey your royal +pleasure, and attend him to the Tower.” Haughtily he bowed his head +as he spoke, and raising it again, gazed around--“I await your Grace’s +pleasure.” + +“Begone where thou wilt, earl. From this day Edward IV. reigns alone,” + said the king. Warwick turned. + +“My Lord Scales,” said he, “lift the curtain; nay, sir, it misdemeans +you not. You are still the son of the Woodville, I still the descendant +of John of Gaunt.” + +“Not for the dead ancestor, but for the living warrior,” said the Lord +Scales, lifting the curtain, and bowing with knightly grace as the earl +passed. And scarcely was Warwick in the open space than the crowd fairly +broke through all restraint, and the clamour of their joy filled with +its hateful thunders the royal tent. + +“Edward,” said Richard, whisperingly, and laying his finger on his +brother’s arm, “forgive me if I offended; but had you at such a time +resolved on violence--” + +“I see it all,--you were right. But is this to be endured forever?” + +“Sire,” returned Richard, with his dark smile, “rest calm; for the age +is your best ally, and the age is outgrowing the steel and hauberk. A +little while, and--” + +“And what--” + +“And--ah, sire, I will answer that question when our brother George +(mark him!) either refrains from listening, or is married to Isabel +Nevile, and hath quarrel with her father about the dowry. What, he, +there!--let the jongleurs perform.” + +“The jongleurs!” exclaimed the king; “why, Richard, thou hast more +levity than myself!” + +“Pardon me! Let the jongleurs perform, and bid the crowd stay. It is by +laughing at the mountebanks that your Grace can best lead the people to +forget their Warwick!” + + + + +CHAPTER X. HOW THE GREAT LORDS COME TO THE KING-MAKER, AND WITH WHAT +PROFFERS. + +Mastering the emotions that swelled within him, Lord Warwick returned +with his wonted cheerful courtesy the welcome of the crowd and the +enthusiastic salutation of the king’s guard; but as, at length, he +mounted his steed, and attended but by the squire who had followed him +from Dover, penetrated into the solitudes of the chase, the recollection +of the indignity he had suffered smote his proud heart so sorely that +he groaned aloud. His squire, fearing the fatigue he had undergone might +have affected even that iron health, rode up at the sound of the groan, +and Warwick’s face was hueless as he said, with a forced smile, “It is +nothing, Walter. But these heats are oppressive, and we have forgotten +our morning draught, friend. Hark! I hear the brawl of a rivulet, and +a drink of fresh water were more grateful now than the daintiest +hippocras.” So saying, he flung himself from his steed; following the +sound of the rivulet, he gained its banks, and after quenching his +thirst in the hollow of his hand, laid himself down upon the long grass, +waving coolly over the margin, and fell into profound thought. From this +revery he was aroused by a quick footstep, and as he lifted his gloomy +gaze, he beheld Marmaduke Nevile by his side. + +“Well, young man,” said he, sternly, “with what messages art thou +charged?” + +“With none, my lord earl. I await now no commands but thine.” + +“Thou knowest not, poor youth, that I can serve thee no more. Go back to +the court.” + +“Oh, Warwick,” said Marmaduke, with simple eloquence, “send me not from +thy side! This day I have been rejected by the maid I loved. I loved her +well, and my heart chafed sorely, and bled within! but now, methinks, +it consoles me to have been so cast off,--to have no faith, no love, +but that which is best of all, to a brave man,--love and faith for a +hero-chief! Where thy fortunes, there be my humble fate,--to rise or +fall with thee!” + +Warwick looked intently upon his young kinsman’s face, and said, as to +himself, “Why, this is strange! I gave no throne to this man, and he +deserts me not! My friend,” he added aloud, “have they told thee already +that I am disgraced?” + +“I heard the Lord Scales say to the young Lovell that thou wert +dismissed from all thine offices; and I came hither; for I will serve no +more the king who forgets the arm and heart to which he owes a kingdom.” + +“Man, I accept thy loyalty!” exclaimed Warwick, starting to his feet; +“and know that thou hast done more to melt and yet to nerve my spirit +than--But complaints in one are idle, and praise were no reward to +thee.” + +“But see, my lord, if the first to join thee, I am not the sole one. +See, brave Raoul de Fulke, the Lords of St. John, Bergavenny, and +Fitzhugh, ay, and fifty others of the best blood of England, are on thy +track.” + +And as he spoke, plumes and tunics were seen gleaming up the forest +path, and in another moment a troop of knights and gentlemen, comprising +the flower of such of the ancient nobility as yet lingered round the +court, came up to Warwick, bareheaded. + +“Is it possible,” cried Raoul de Fulke, “that we have heard aright, +noble earl? And has Edward IV. suffered the base Woodvilles to triumph +over the bulwark of his realm?” + +“Knights and gentles!” said Warwick, with a bitter smile, “is it so +uncommon a thing that men in peace should leave the battle-axe and brand +to rust? I am but a useless weapon, to be suspended at rest amongst the +trophies of Towton in my hall of Middleham.” + +“Return with us,” said the Lord of St. John, “and we will make Edward do +thee justice, or, one and all, we will abandon a court where knaves and +varlets have become mightier than English valour and nobler than Norman +birth.” + +“My friends,” said the earl, laying his hand on St. John’s shoulder, +“not even in my just wrath will I wrong my king. He is punished eno’ +in the choice he hath made. Poor Edward and poor England! What woes and +wars await ye both, from the gold and the craft and the unsparing hate +of Louis XI! No; if I leave Edward, he hath more need of you. Of mine +own free will I have resigned mine offices.” + +“Warwick,” interrupted Raoul de Fulke, “this deceives us not; and in +disgrace to you the ancient barons of England behold the first blow at +their own state. We have wrongs we endured in silence while thou wert +the shield and sword of yon merchant-king. We have seen the ancient +peers of England set aside for men of yesterday; we have seen +our daughters, sisters,--nay, our very mothers, if widowed and +dowered,--forced into disreputable and base wedlock with creatures +dressed in titles, and gilded with wealth stolen from ourselves. +Merchants and artificers tread upon our knightly heels, and the avarice +of trade eats up our chivalry as a rust. We nobles, in our greater day, +have had the crown at our disposal, and William the Norman dared not +think what Edward Earl of March hath been permitted with impunity to do. +We, Sir Earl--we knights and barons--would a king simple in his manhood +and princely in his truth. Richard Earl of Warwick, thou art of royal +blood, the descendant of old John of Gaunt. In thee we behold the true, +the living likeness of the Third Edward, and the Hero-Prince of Cressy. +Speak but the word, and we make thee king!” + +The descendant of the Norman, the representative of the mighty faction +that no English monarch had ever braved in vain, looked round as he said +these last words, and a choral murmur was heard through the whole of +that august nobility, “We make thee king!” + +“Richard, descendant of the Plantagenet, [By the female side, through +Joan Beaufort, or Plantagenet, Warwick was third in descent from John +of Gaunt, as Henry VII., through the male line, was fourth in descent.] +speak the word,” repeated Raoul de Fulke. + +“I speak it not,” interrupted Warwick; “nor shalt thou continue, brave +Raoul de Fulke. What, my lords and gentlemen,” he added, drawing himself +up, and with his countenance animated with feelings it is scarcely +possible in our times to sympathize with or make clear--“what! think you +that Ambition limits itself to the narrow circlet of a crown Greater, +and more in the spirit of our mighty fathers, is the condition of men +like us, THE BARONS who make and unmake kings. What! who of us would not +rather descend from the chiefs of Runnymede than from the royal craven +whom they controlled and chid? By Heaven, my lords, Richard Nevile has +too proud a soul to be a king! A king--a puppet of state and form; a +king--a holiday show for the crowd, to hiss or hurrah, as the humour +seizes; a king--a beggar to the nation, wrangling with his parliament +for gold! A king!--Richard II. was a king, and Lancaster dethroned him. +Ye would debase me to a Henry of Lancaster. Mort Dieu! I thank ye. The +Commons and the Lords raised him, forsooth,--for what? To hold him as +the creature they had made, to rate him, to chafe him, to pry into his +very household, and quarrel with his wife’s chamberlains and lavourers. +[Laundresses. The parliamentary rolls, in the reign of Henry IV., +abound in curious specimens of the interference of the Commons with the +household of Henry’s wife, Queen Joan.] What! dear Raoul de Fulke, is +thy friend fallen now so low, that he--Earl of Salisbury and of Warwick, +chief of the threefold race of Montagu, Monthermer, and Nevile, lord of +a hundred baronies, leader of sixty thousand followers--is not greater +than Edward of March, to whom we will deign still, with your permission, +to vouchsafe the name and pageant of a king?” + +This extraordinary address, strange to say, so thoroughly expressed +the peculiar pride of the old barons, that when it ceased a sound of +admiration and applause circled through that haughty audience, and Raoul +de Fulke, kneeling suddenly, kissed the earl’s hand. “Oh, noble earl,” + he said, “ever live as one of us, to maintain our order, and teach kings +and nations what WE are.” + +“Fear it not, Raoul! fear it not,--we will have our rights yet. Return, +I beseech ye. Let me feel I have such friends about the king. Even at +Middleham my eye shall watch over our common cause; and till seven feet +of earth suffice him, your brother baron, Richard Nevile, is not a man +whom kings and courts can forget, much less dishonour. Sirs, our honour +is in our bosoms,--and there is the only throne armies cannot shake, nor +cozeners undermine.” + +With these words he gently waved his hand, motioned to his squire, who +stood out of hearing with the steeds, to approach, and mounting, gravely +rode on. Ere he had got many paces, he called to Marmaduke, who was +on foot, and bade him follow him to London that night. “I have strange +tidings to tell the French envoys, and for England’s sake I must soothe +their anger, if I can,--then to Middleham.” + +The nobles returned slowly to the pavilions. And as they gained the open +space, where the gaudy tents still shone against the setting sun, they +beheld the mob of that day, whom Shakspeare hath painted with such +contempt, gathering, laughing and loud, around the mountebank and the +conjurer, who had already replaced in their thoughts (as Gloucester had +foreseen) the hero-idol of their worship. + + + + +BOOK V. + + +CHAPTER I. RURAL ENGLAND IN THE MIDDLE AGES--NOBLE VISITORS SEEK THE +CASTLE OF MIDDLEHAM. + +Autumn had succeeded to summer, winter to autumn, and the spring of 1468 +was green in England, when a gallant cavalcade was seen slowly winding +the ascent of a long and gradual hill, towards the decline of day. +Different, indeed, from the aspect which that part of the country now +presents was the landscape that lay around them, bathed in the smiles +of the westering sun. In a valley to the left, a full view of which +the steep road commanded (where now roars the din of trade through a +thousand factories), lay a long, secluded village. The houses, if so +they might be called, were constructed entirely of wood, and that of the +more perishable kind,--willow, sallow, elm, and plum-tree. Not one could +boast a chimney; but the smoke from the single fire in each, after duly +darkening the atmosphere within, sent its surplusage lazily and fitfully +through a circular aperture in the roof. In fact, there was long in the +provinces a prejudice against chimneys! The smoke was considered good +both for house and owner; the first it was supposed to season, and the +last to guard “from rheums, catarrhs, and poses.” [So worthy Hollinshed, +Book II. c. 22.--“Then had we none but reredosses, and our heads did +never ache. For as the smoke, in those days, was supposed to be a +sufficient hardening for the timber of the house, so it was reputed a +far better medicine to keep the goodman and his familie from the quacke, +or pose, wherewith as then very few were oft acquainted.”] Neither +did one of these habitations boast the comfort of a glazed window, the +substitute being lattice, or chequer-work,--even in the house of the +franklin, which rose statelily above the rest, encompassed with barns +and outsheds. And yet greatly should we err did we conceive that these +deficiencies were an index to the general condition of the working +class. Far better off was the labourer when employed, than now. Wages +were enormously high, meat extremely low; [See Hallam: Middle Ages, +Chap. xx. Part II. So also Hollinsbed, Book XI., c. 12, comments on the +amazement of the Spaniards, in Queen Mary’s time, when they saw “what +large diet was used in these so homelie cottages,” and reports one of +the Spaniards to have said, “These English have their houses of sticks +and dirt, but they fare commonlie so well as the king!”] and our +motherland bountifully maintained her children. + +On that greensward, before the village (now foul and reeking with the +squalid population whom commerce rears up,--the victims, as the movers, +of the modern world) were assembled youth and age; for it was a holiday +evening, and the stern Puritan had not yet risen to sour the face of +Mirth. Well clad in leathern jerkin, or even broadcloth, the young +peasants vied with each other in quoits and wrestling; while the merry +laughter of the girls, in their gay-coloured kirtles and ribboned +hair, rose oft and cheerily to the ears of the cavalcade. From a gentle +eminence beyond the village, and half veiled by trees, on which the +first verdure of spring was budding (where now, around the gin-shop, +gather the fierce and sickly children of toil and of discontent), rose +the venerable walls of a monastery, and the chime of its heavy bell +swung far and sweet over the pastoral landscape. To the right of the +road (where now stands the sober meeting-house) was one of those small +shrines so frequent in Italy, with an image of the Virgin gaudily +painted, and before it each cavalier in the procession halted an instant +to cross himself and mutter an ave. Beyond, still to the right, extended +vast chains of woodland, interspersed with strips of pasture, upon which +numerous flocks were grazing, with horses, as yet unbroken to bit and +selle, that neighed and snorted as they caught scent of their more +civilized brethren pacing up the road. + +In front of the cavalcade rode two, evidently of superior rank to the +rest,--the one small and slight, with his long hair flowing over his +shoulders; and the other, though still young, many years older, and +indicating his clerical profession by the absence of all love-locks, +compensated by a curled and glossy beard, trimmed with the greatest +care. But the dress of the ecclesiastic was as little according to our +modern notions of what beseems the Church as can well be conceived: +his tunic and surcoat, of a rich amber, contrasted well with the clear +darkness of his complexion; his piked shoes, or beakers, as they were +called, turned up half-way to the knee; the buckles of his dress were +of gold, inlaid with gems; and the housings of his horse, which was +of great power, were edged with gold fringe. By the side of his steed +walked a tall greyhound, upon which he ever and anon glanced with +affection. Behind these rode two gentlemen, whose golden spurs announced +knighthood; and then followed a long train of squires and pages, richly +clad and accoutred, bearing generally the Nevile badge of the Bull; +though interspersed amongst the retinue might be seen the grim Boar’s +head, which Richard of Gloucester, in right of his duchy, had assumed as +his cognizance. + +“Nay, sweet prince,” said the ecclesiastic, “I pray thee to consider +that a greyhound is far more of a gentleman than any other of the canine +species. Mark his stately yet delicate length of limb, his sleek coat, +his keen eye, his haughty neck.” + +“These are but the externals, my noble friend. Will the greyhound attack +the lion, as our mastiff doth? The true character of the gentleman is to +know no fear, and to rush through all danger at the throat of his foe; +wherefore I uphold the dignity of the mastiff above all his tribe, +though others have a daintier hide and a statelier crest. Enough of such +matters, archbishop,--we are nearing Middleham.” + +“The saints be praised! for I am hungered,” observed the archbishop, +piously: “but, sooth to say, my cook at the More far excelleth what we +can hope to find at the board of my brother. He hath some faults, our +Warwick! Hasty and careless, he hath not thought eno’ of the blessings +he might enjoy, and many a poor abbot hath daintier fare on his humble +table.” + +“Oh, George Nevile! who that heard thee, when thou talkest of hounds +and interments, [entremets (side dishes)] would recognize the Lord +Chancellor of England,--the most learned dignitary, the most subtle +statesman?” + +“And oh, Richard Plantagenet!” retorted the archbishop, dropping the +mincing and affected tone, which he, in common with the coxcombs of that +day, usually assumed, “who that heard thee when thou talkest of humility +and devotion, would recognize the sternest heart and the most daring +ambition God ever gave to prince?” + +Richard started at these words, and his eye shot fire as it met the keen +calm glance of the prelate. + +“Nay, your Grace wrongs me,” he said, gnawing his lip,--“or I should not +say wrongs, but flatters; for sternness and ambition are no vices in a +Nevile’s eyes.” + +“Fairly answered, royal son,” said the archbishop, laughing; “but let us +be frank. Thou hast persuaded me to accompany thee to Lord Warwick as +a mediator; the provinces in the North are disturbed; the intrigues of +Margaret of Anjou are restless; the king reaps what he has sown in the +Court of France, and, as Warwick foretold, the emissaries and gold of +Louis are ever at work against his throne; the great barons are moody +and discontented; and our liege King Edward is at last aware that, if +the Earl of Warwick do not return to his councils, the first blast of a +hostile trumpet may drive him from his throne. Well, I attend thee: my +fortunes are woven with those of York, and my interest and my loyalty +go hand in hand. Be equally frank with me. Hast thou, Lord Richard, no +interest to serve in this mission save that of the public weal?” + +“Thou forgettest that the Lady Isabel is dearly loved by Clarence, and +that I would fain see removed all barrier to his nuptial bliss. But +yonder rise the towers of Middleham. Beloved walls, which sheltered my +childhood! and, by holy Paul, a noble pile, which would resist an army, +or hold one.” + +While thus conversed the prince and the archbishop, the Earl of Warwick, +musing and alone, slowly paced the lofty terrace that crested the +battlements of his outer fortifications. + +In vain had that restless and powerful spirit sought content in +retirement. Trained from his childhood to active life, to move mankind +to and fro at his beck, this single and sudden interval of repose in the +prime of his existence, at the height of his fame, served but to swell +the turbulent and dangerous passions to which all vent was forbidden. + +The statesman of modern days has at least food for intellect in letters +when deprived of action; but with all his talents, and thoroughly +cultivated as his mind was in the camp, the council, and the state, the +great earl cared for nothing in book-lore except some rude ballad that +told of Charlemagne or Rollo. The sports that had pleased the leisure of +his earlier youth were tedious and flat to one snatched from so mighty +a career. His hound lay idle at his feet, his falcon took holiday on the +perch, his jester was banished to the page’s table. Behold the repose of +this great unlettered spirit! But while his mind was thus debarred from +its native sphere, all tended to pamper Lord Warwick’s infirmity of +pride. The ungrateful Edward might forget him; but the king seemed to +stand alone in that oblivion. The mightiest peers, the most renowned +knights, gathered to his hall. Middleham,--not Windsor nor Shene nor +Westminster nor the Tower--seemed the COURT OF ENGLAND. As the Last +of the Barons paced his terrace, far as his eye could reach, his broad +domains extended, studded with villages and towns and castles swarming +with his retainers. The whole country seemed in mourning for his +absence. The name of Warwick was in all men’s mouths, and not a group +gathered in market-place or hostel but what the minstrel who had some +ballad in praise of the stout earl had a rapt and thrilling audience. + +“And is the river of my life,” muttered Warwick, “shrunk into this +stagnant pool? Happy the man who hath never known what it is to taste of +fame,--to have it is a purgatory, to want it is a hell!” + +Rapt in this gloomy self-commune, he heard not the light step that +sought his side, till a tender arm was thrown around him, and a face in +which sweet temper and pure thought had preserved to matronly beauty all +the bloom of youth, looked up smilingly to his own. + +“My lord, my Richard,” said the countess, “why didst thou steal so +churlishly from me? Hath there, alas! come a time when thou deemest me +unworthy to share thy thoughts, or soothe thy troubles?” + +“Fond one! no,” said Warwick, drawing the form still light, though +rounded, nearer to his bosom. “For nineteen years hast thou been to me a +leal and loving wife. Thou wert a child on our wedding-day, m’amie, and +I but a beardless youth; yet wise enough was I then to see, at the first +glance of thy blue eye, that there was more treasure in thy heart than +in all the lordships thy hand bestowed.” + +“My Richard!” murmured the countess, and her tears of grateful delight +fell on the hand she kissed. + +“Yes, let us recall those early and sweet days,” continued Warwick, with +a tenderness of voice and manner that strangers might have marvelled +at, forgetting how tenderness is almost ever a part of such peculiar +manliness of character; “yes, sit we here under this spacious elm, and +think that our youth has come back to us once more. For verily, m’amie, +nothing in life has ever been so fair to me as those days when we +stood hand in hand on its threshold, and talked, boy-bridegroom and +child-bride as we were, of the morrow that lay beyond.” + +“Ah, Richard, even in those days thy ambition sometimes vexed my woman’s +vanity, and showed me that I could never be all in all to so large a +heart!” + +“Ambition! No, thou mistakest,--Montagu is ambitious, I but proud. +Montagu ever seeks to be higher than he is, I but assert the right to be +what I am and have been; and my pride, sweet wife, is a part of my love +for thee. It is thy title, Heiress of Warwick, and not my father’s, that +I bear; thy badge, and not the Nevile’s, which I have made the symbol +of my power. Shame, indeed, on my knighthood, if the fairest dame in +England could not justify my pride! Ah, belle amie, why have we not a +son?” + +“Peradventure, fair lord,” said the countess, with an arch yet +half-melancholy smile, “because that pride, or ambition, name it as thou +wilt, which thou excusest so gallantly, would become too insatiate and +limitless if thou sawest a male heir to thy greatness; and God, perhaps, +warns thee that, spread and increase as thou wilt,--yea, until half our +native country becometh as the manor of one man,--all must pass from the +Beauchamp and the Nevile into new Houses; thy glory indeed an eternal +heirloom, but only to thy land,--thy lordships and thy wealth melting +into the dowry of a daughter.” + +“At least no king hath daughters so dowried,” answered Warwick; “and +though I disdain for myself the hard vassalage of a throne, yet if the +channel of our blood must pass into other streams, into nothing meaner +than the veins of royalty should it merge.” He paused a moment, and +added with a sigh, “Would that Clarence were more worthy Isabel!” + +“Nay,” said the countess, gently, “he loveth her as she merits. He is +comely, brave, gracious, and learned.” + +“A pest upon that learning,--it sicklies and womanizes men’s minds!” + exclaimed Warwick, bluntly. “Perhaps it is his learning that I am to +thank for George of Clarence’s fears and doubts and calculations and +scruples. His brother forbids his marriage with any English donzell, for +Edward dares not specialize what alone he dreads. His letters burn with +love, and his actions freeze with doubts. It was not thus I loved thee, +sweetheart. By all the saints in the calendar, had Henry V. or the Lion +Richard started from the tomb to forbid me thy hand, it would but have +made me a hotter lover! Howbeit Clarence shall decide ere the moon +wanes, and but for Isabel’s tears and thy entreaties, my father’s +grandchild should not have waited thus long the coming of so hesitating +a wooer. But lo, our darlings! Anne hath thine eyes, m’amie; and she +groweth more into my heart every day, since daily she more favours +thee.” + +While he thus spoke, the fair sisters came lightly and gayly up the +terrace: the arm of the statelier Isabel was twined round Anne’s +slender waist; and as they came forward in that gentle link, with their +lithesome and bounding step, a happier blending of contrasted beauty was +never seen. The months that had passed since the sisters were presented +first to the reader had little changed the superb and radiant loveliness +of Isabel, but had added surprisingly to the attractions of Anne. Her +form was more rounded, her bloom more ripened; and though something of +timidity and bashfulness still lingered about the grace of her movements +and the glance of her dove-like eye, the more earnest thoughts of the +awakening woman gave sweet intelligence to her countenance, and that +divinest of all attractions--the touching and conscious modesty--to the +shy but tender smile, and the blush that so came and went, so went and +came, that it stirred the heart with a sort of delighted pity for one +so evidently susceptible to every emotion of pleasure and of pain. Life +seemed too rough a thing for so soft a nature, and gazing on her, one +sighed to guess her future. + +“And what brings ye hither, young truants?” said the earl, as Anne, +leaving her sister, clung lovingly to his side (for it was ever her +habit to cling to some one), while Isabel kissed her mother’s hand, and +then stood before her parents, colouring deeply, and with downcast eyes. +“What brings ye hither, whom I left so lately deep engaged in the loom, +upon the helmet of Goliath, with my burgonet before you as a sample? +Wife, you are to blame,--our rooms of state will be arrasless for the +next three generations, if these rosy fingers are suffered thus to play +the idlers.” + +“My father,” whispered Anne, “guests are on their way hither,--a noble +cavalcade; you note them not from this part of the battlements, but from +our turret it was fair to see how their plumes and banners shone in the +setting sun.” + +“Guests!” echoed the earl; “well, is that so rare an honour that your +hearts should beat like village girls at a holiday? Ah, Isabel! look at +her blushes. Is it George of Clarence at last? Is it?” + +“We see the Duke of Gloucester’s cognizance,” whispered Anne, “and our +own Nevile Bull. Perchance our cousin George, also, may--” + +Here she was interrupted by the sound of the warder’s horn, followed a +moment after by the roar of one of the bombards on the keep. + +“At least,” said Warwick, his face lighting up, “that signal announces +the coming of king’s blood. We must honour it,--for it is our own. We +will go forth and meet our guests--your hand, countess.” + +And gravely and silently, and in deep but no longer gloomy thought, +Warwick descended from the terrace, followed by the fair sisters; and +who that could have looked upon that princely pair and those lovely +and radiant children, could have foreseen that in that hour, Fate, in +tempting the earl once more to action, was busy on their doom! + + + + +CHAPTER II. COUNCILS AND MUSINGS. + +The lamp shone through the lattice of Warwick’s chamber at the unwonted +hour of midnight, and the earl was still in deep commune with his +guests. The archbishop, whom Edward, alarmed by the state of the country +and the disaffection of his barons, had reluctantly commissioned to +mediate with Warwick, was, as we have before said, one of those men +peculiar to the early Church. There was nothing more in the title of +Archbishop of York than in that of the Bishop of Osnaburg (borne by the +royal son of George III.) [The late Duke of York.] to prevent him who +enjoyed it from leading armies, guiding States, or indulging pleasure. +But beneath the coxcombry of George Nevile, which was what he shared +most in common with the courtiers of the laity, there lurked a true +ecclesiastic’s mind. He would have made in later times an admirable +Jesuit, and no doubt in his own time a very brilliant Pope. His objects +in his present mission were clear and perspicuous; any breach between +Warwick and the king must necessarily weaken his own position, and +the power of his House was essential to all his views. The object of +Gloucester in his intercession was less defined, but not less personal: +in smoothing the way to his brother’s marriage with Isabel, he removed +all apparent obstacle to his own with Anne. And it is probable that +Richard, who, whatever his crimes, was far from inaccessible to +affection, might have really loved his early playmate, even while his +ambition calculated the wealth of the baronies that would swell the +dower of the heiress and gild the barren coronet of his duchy. [Majerns, +the Flemish chronicler, quoted by Bucke (“Life of Richard III”), +mentions the early attachment of Richard to Anne. They were much +together, as children, at Middleham.] + +“God’s truth!” said Warwick, as he lifted his eyes from the scroll +in the king’s writing, “ye know well, princely cousin, and thou, my +brother, ye know well how dearly I have loved King Edward; and the +mother’s milk overflows my heart when I read these gentle and tender +words which he deigns to bestow upon his servant. My blood is hasty and +over-hot, but a kind thought from those I love puts out much fire. Sith +he thus beseeches me to return to his councils, I will not be sullen +enough to hold back; but, oh, Prince Richard! is it indeed a matter past +all consideration that your sister, the Lady Margaret, must wed with the +Duke of Burgundy?” + +“Warwick,” replied the prince, “thou mayest know that I never looked +with favour on that alliance; that when Clarence bore the Bastard’s +helmet, I withheld my countenance from the Bastard’s presence. I +incurred Edward’s anger by refusing to attend his court while the Count +de la Roche was his guest. And therefore you may trust me when I say now +that Edward, after promises, however rash, most solemn and binding, is +dishonoured forever if he break off the contract. New circumstances, +too, have arisen, to make what were dishonour danger also. By the death +of his father, Charolois has succeeded to the Duke of Burgundy’s diadem. +Thou knowest his warlike temper; and though in a contest popular in +England we need fear no foe, yet thou knowest also that no subsidies +could be raised for strife with our most profitable commercial ally. +Wherefore we earnestly implore thee magnanimously to forgive the past, +accept Edward’s assurance of repentance, and be thy thought--as it has +been ever--the weal of our common country.” + +“I may add, also,” said the archbishop, observing how much Warwick was +touched and softened,--“that in returning to the helm of state, our +gracious king permits me to say, that, save only in the alliance with +Burgundy, which toucheth his plighted word, you have full liberty +to name conditions, and to ask whatever grace or power a monarch can +bestow.” + +“I name none but my prince’s confidence,” said Warwick, generously; +“in that, all else is given, and in return for that, I will make the +greatest sacrifice that my nature knoweth, or can conceive,--I will +mortify my familiar demon, I will subdue my PRIDE. If Edward can +convince me that it is for the good of England that his sister should +wed with mine ancient and bitter foe, I will myself do honour to his +choice. But of this hereafter. Enough now that I forget past wrongs in +present favour; and that for peace or war, I return to the side of that +man whom I loved as my son before I served him as my king.” + +Neither Richard nor the archbishop was prepared for a conciliation so +facile, for neither quite understood that peculiar magnanimity which +often belongs to a vehement and hasty temper, and which is as eager +to forgive as prompt to take offence,--which, ever in extremes, is +not contented with anything short of fiery aggression or trustful +generosity, and where it once passes over an offence, seeks to oblige +the offender. So, when, after some further conversation on the state +of the country, the earl lighted Gloucester to his chamber, the young +prince said to himself, musingly,-- + +“Does ambition besot and blind men? Or can Warwick think that Edward can +ever view him but as one to be destroyed when the hour is ripe?” + +Catesby, who was the duke’s chamberlain, was in attendance as the prince +unrobed. + +“A noble castle this,” said the duke, “and one in the midst of a warlike +population,--our own countrymen of York.” + +“It would be no mean addition to the dowry of the Lady Isabel,” said +Catesby, with his bland, false smile. + +“Methinks rather that the lordships of Salisbury (and this is the +chief) pass to the Lady Anne,” said Richard, musingly. “No, Edward were +imprudent to suffer this stronghold to fall to the next heir to his +throne. Marked you the Lady Anne?--her beauty is most excellent.” + +“Truly, your Highness,” answered Catesby, unsuspiciously, “the Lady +Isabel seems to me the taller and the statelier.” + +“When man’s merit and woman’s beauty are measured by the ell, Catesby, +Anne will certainly be less fair than Isabel, and Richard a dolt +compared to Clarence. Open the casement; my dressing-robe; good-night to +you!” + + + + +CHAPTER III. THE SISTERS. + +The next morning, at an hour when modern beauty falls into its first +sickly sleep, Isabel and Anne conversed on the same terrace, and near +the same spot, which had witnessed their father’s meditations the +day before. They were seated on a rude bench in an angle of the wall, +flanked by a low, heavy bastion. And from the parapet their gaze might +have wandered over a goodly sight, for on a broad space, covered with +sand and sawdust, within the vast limits of the castle range, the +numerous knights and youths who sought apprenticeship in arms and +gallantry under the earl were engaged in those martial sports which, +falling elsewhere in disuse, the Last of the Barons kinglily maintained. +There, boys of fourteen, on their small horses, ran against each other +with blunted lances. There, those of more advanced adolescence, each +following the other in a circle, rode at the ring; sometimes (at the +word of command from an old knight who had fought at Agincourt, and was +the preceptor in these valiant studies) leaping from their horses at +full speed, and again vaulting into the saddle. A few grim old warriors +sat by to censure or applaud. Most skilled among the younger was the son +of Lord Montagu; among the maturer, the name of Marmaduke Nevile was the +most often shouted. If the eye turned to the left, through the barbican +might be seen flocks of beeves entering to supply the mighty larder; +and at a smaller postern, a dark crowd of mendicant friars, and the more +destitute poor, waited for the daily crumbs from the rich man’s table. +What need of a poor-law then? The baron and the abbot made the parish! +But not on these evidences of wealth and state turned the eyes, so +familiar to them, that they woke no vanity, and roused no pride. + +With downcast looks and a pouting lip, Isabel listened to the silver +voice of Anne. + +“Dear sister, be just to Clarence. He cannot openly defy his king and +brother. Believe that he would have accompanied our uncle and cousin had +he not deemed that their meditation would be more welcome, at least to +King Edward, without his presence.” + +“But not a letter! not a line!” + +“Yet when I think of it, Isabel, are we sure that he even knew of the +visit of the archbishop and his brother?” + +“How could he fail to know?” + +“The Duke of Gloucester last evening told me that the king had sent him +southward.” + +“Was it about Clarence that the duke whispered to thee so softly by the +oriel window?” + +“Surely, yes,” said Anne, simply. “Was not Richard as a brother to us +when we played as children on yon greensward?” + +“Never as a brother to me,--never was Richard of Gloucester one whom +I could think of without fear and even loathing,” answered Isabel, +quickly. + +It was at this turn in the conversation that the noiseless step +of Richard himself neared the spot, and hearing his own name thus +discourteously treated, he paused, screened from their eyes by the +bastion in the angle. + +“Nay, nay, sister,” said Anne; “what is there in Richard that misbeseems +his princely birth?” + +“I know not, but there is no youth in his eye and in his heart. Even +as a child he had the hard will and the cold craft of gray hairs. Pray +Saint Mary you give me not Gloucester for a brother!” + +Anne sighed and smiled. “Ah, no,” she said, after a short pause, “when +thou art Princess of Clarence may I--” + +“May thou what?” + +“Pray for thee and thine in the house of God! Ah, thou knowest not, +sweet Isabel, how often at morn and even mine eyes and heart turn to the +spires of yonder convent!” She rose as she said this, her lip quivered, +and she moved on in the opposite direction to that in which Richard +stood, still unseen, and no longer within his hearing. Isabel rose also, +and hastening after her, threw her arms round Anne’s neck, and kissed +away the tears that stood in those meek eyes. + +“My sister, my Anne! Ah, trust in me, thou hast some secret, I know it +well,--I have long seen it. Is it possible that thou canst have placed +thy heart, thy pure love--Thou blushest! Ah, Anne! Anne! thou canst not +have loved beneath thee?” + +“Nay,” said Anne, with a spark of her ancestral fire lighting her meek +eyes through its tears, “not beneath me, but above. What do I say! +Isabel, ask me no more. Enough that it is a folly, a dream, and that I +could smile with pity at myself to think from what light causes love and +grief can spring.” + +“Above thee!” repeated Isabel, in amaze; “and who in England is above +the daughter of Earl Warwick? Not Richard of Gloucester? If so, pardon +my foolish tongue.” + +“No, not Richard,--though I feel kindly towards him, and his sweet voice +soothes me when I listen,--not Richard. Ask no more.” + +“Oh, Anne, speak, speak!--we are not both so wretched? Thou lovest not +Clarence? It is--it must be!” + +“Canst thou think me so false and treacherous,--a heart pledged to thee? +Clarence! Oh, no!” + +“But who then--who then?” said Isabel, still suspiciously. “Nay, if thou +wilt not speak, blame thyself if I must still wrong thee.” + +Thus appealed to, and wounded to the quick by Isabel’s tone and eye, +Anne at last with a strong effort suppressed her tears, and, taking her +sister’s hand, said in a voice of touching solemnity, “Promise, then, +that the secret shall be ever holy; and, since I know that it will move +thine anger--perhaps thy scorn--strive to forget what I will confess to +thee.” + +Isabel for answer pressed her lips on the hand she held; and the +sisters, turning under the shadow of a long row of venerable oaks, +placed themselves on a little mound, fragrant with the violets of +spring. A different part of the landscape beyond was now brought in +view; calmly slept in the valley the roofs of the subject town of +Middleham, calmly flowed through the pastures the noiseless waves of +Ure. Leaning on Isabel’s bosom, Anne thus spake, “Call to mind, sweet +sister, that short breathing-time in the horrors of the Civil War, when +a brief peace was made between our father and Queen Margaret. We were +left in the palace--mere children that we were--to play with the young +prince, and the children in Margaret’s train.” + +“I remember.” + +“And I was unwell and timid, and kept aloof from the sports with a girl +of my own years, whom I think--see how faithful my memory!--they called +Sibyll; and Prince Edward, Henry’s son, stealing from the rest, sought +me out; and we sat together, or walked together alone, apart from all, +that day and the few days we were his mother’s guests. Oh, if you could +have seen him and heard him then,--so beautiful, so gentle, so wise +beyond his years, and yet so sweetly sad; and when we parted, he bade me +ever love him, and placed his ring on my finger, and wept,--as we kissed +each other, as children will.” + +“Children! ye were infants!” exclaimed Isabel, whose wonder seemed +increased by this simple tale. + +“Infant though I was, I felt as if my heart would break when I left him; +and then the wars ensued; and do you not remember how ill I was, and +like to die, when our House triumphed, and the prince and heir of +Lancaster was driven into friendless exile? From that hour my fate was +fixed. Smile if you please at such infant folly, but children often feel +more deeply than later years can weet of.” + +“My sister, this is indeed a wilful invention of sorrow for thine own +scourge. Why, ere this, believe me, the boy-prince hath forgotten thy +very name.” + +“Not so, Isabel,” said Anne, colouring, and quickly, “and perchance, did +all rest here, I might have outgrown my weakness. But last year, when we +were at Rouen with my father--” + +“Well?” + +“One evening on entering my chamber, I found a packet,--how left I know +not, but the French king and his suite, thou rememberest, made our house +almost their home,--and in this packet was a picture, and on its back +these words, Forget not the exile who remembers thee!” + +“And that picture was Prince Edward’s?” + +Anne blushed, and her bosom heaved beneath the slender and high-laced +gorget. After a pause, looking round her, she drew forth a small +miniature, which lay on the heart that beat thus sadly, and placed it in +her sister’s hands. + +“You see I deceive you not, Isabel. And is not this a fair excuse for--” + +She stopped short, her modest nature shrinking from comment upon the +mere beauty that might have won the heart. And fair indeed was the face +upon which Isabel gazed admiringly, in spite of the stiff and rude +art of the limner; full of the fire and energy which characterized the +countenance of the mother, but with a tinge of the same profound and +inexpressible melancholy that gave its charm to the pensive features +of Henry VI.,--a face, indeed, to fascinate a young eye, even if not +associated with such remembrances of romance and pity. + +Without saying a word, Isabel gave back the picture; but she pressed the +hand that took it, and Anne was contented to interpret the silence into +sympathy. + +“And now you know why I have so often incurred your anger by compassion +for the adherents of Lancaster; and for this, also, Richard of +Gloucester hath been endeared to me,--for fierce and stern as he may +be called, he hath ever been gentle in his mediation for that unhappy +House.” + +“Because it is his policy to be well with all parties. My poor Anne, I +cannot bid you hope; and yet, should I ever wed with Clarence, it may be +possible--that--that--but you in turn will chide me for ambition.” + +“How?” + +“Clarence is heir to the throne of England, for King Edward has no male +children; and the hour may arrive when the son of Henry of Windsor may +return to his native land, not as sovereign, but as Duke of Lancaster, +and thy hand may reconcile him to the loss of a crown.” + +“Would love reconcile thee to such a loss, proud Isabel?” said Anne, +shaking her head, and smiling mournfully. + +“No,” answered Isabel, emphatically. + +“And are men less haught than we?” said Anne. “Ah, I know not if I could +love him so well could he resign his rights, or even could he regain +them. It is his position that gives him a holiness in my eyes. And this +love, that must be hopeless, is half pity and half respect.” + +At this moment a loud shout arose from the youths in the yard, or +sporting-ground, below, and the sisters, startled, and looking up, +saw that the sound was occasioned by the sight of the young Duke +of Gloucester, who was standing on the parapet near the bench the +demoiselles had quitted, and who acknowledged the greeting by a wave +of his plumed cap, and a lowly bend of his head; at the same time +the figures of Warwick and the archbishop, seemingly in earnest +conversation, appeared at the end of the terrace. The sisters rose +hastily, and would have stolen away, but the archbishop caught a glimpse +of their robes, and called aloud to them. The reverent obedience, +at that day, of youth to relations left the sisters no option but to +advance towards their uncle, which they did with demure reluctance. + +“Fair brother,” said the archbishop, “I would that Gloucester were to +have my stately niece instead of the gaudy Clarence.” + +“Wherefore?” + +“Because he can protect those he loves, and Clarence will ever need a +protector.” + +“I like George not the less for that,” said Warwick, “for I would not +have my son-in-law my master.” + +“Master!” echoed the archbishop, laughing; “the Soldan of Babylon +himself, were he your son-in-law, would find Lord Warwick a tolerably +stubborn servant!” + +“And yet,” said Warwick, also laughing, but with a franker tone, +“beshrew me, but much as I approve young Gloucester, and deem him the +hope of the House of York, I never feel sure, when we are of the same +mind, whether I agree with him, or whether he leadeth me. Ah, George! +Isabel should have wedded the king, and then Edward and I would have had +a sweet mediator in all our quarrels. But not so hath it been decreed.” + +There was a pause. + +“Note how Gloucester steals to the side of Anne. Thou mayst have him for +a son-in-law, though no rival to Clarence. Montagu hath hinted that the +duke so aspires.” + +“He has his father’s face--well,” said the earl, softly. “But yet,” he +added, in an altered and reflective tone, “the boy is to me a riddle. +That he will be bold in battle and wise in council I foresee; but would +he had more of a young man’s honest follies! There is a medium between +Edward’s wantonness and Richard’s sanctimony; and he who in the heyday +of youth’s blood scowls alike upon sparkling wine and smiling woman, may +hide in his heart darker and more sinful fancies. But fie on me! I will +not wrongfully mistrust his father’s son. Thou spokest of Montagu; he +seems to have been mighty cold to his brother’s wrongs,--ever at the +court, ever sleek with Villein and Woodville.” + +“But the better to watch thy interests,--I so counselled him.” + +“A priest’s counsel! Hate frankly or love freely is a knight’s and +soldier’s motto. A murrain on all doubledealing!” + +The archbishop shrugged his shoulders, and applied to his nostrils a +small pouncet-box of dainty essences. + +“Come hither, my haughty Isabel,” said the prelate, as the demoiselles +now drew near. He placed his niece’s arm within his own, and took her +aside to talk of Clarence; Richard remained with Anne, and the young +cousins were joined by Warwick. The earl noted in silence the soft +address of the eloquent prince, and his evident desire to please Anne. +And strange as it may seem, although he had hitherto regarded Richard +with admiration and affection, and although his pride for both daughters +coveted alliances not less than royal, yet, in contemplating Gloucester +for the first time as a probable suitor to his daughter (and his +favourite daughter), the anxiety of a father sharpened his penetration, +and placed the character of Richard before him in a different point +from that in which he had hitherto looked only on the fearless heart and +accomplished wit of his royal godson. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. THE DESTRIER. + +It was three days afterwards that the earl, as, according to custom, +Anne knelt to him for his morning blessing in the oratory where the +Christian baron at matins and vespers offered up his simple worship, +drew her forth into the air, and said abruptly,-- + +“Wouldst thou be happy if Richard of Gloucester were thy betrothed?” + +Anne started, and with more vivacity than usually belonged to her, +exclaimed, “Oh, no, my father!” + +“This is no maiden’s silly coyness, Anne? It is a plain yea or nay that +I ask from thee!” + +“Nay, then,” answered Anne, encouraged by her father’s tone,--“nay, if +it so please you.” + +“It doth please me,” said the earl, shortly; and after a pause, he +added, “Yes, I am well pleased. Richard gives promise of an illustrious +manhood; but, Anne, thou growest so like thy mother, that whenever my +pride seeks to see thee great, my heart steps in, and only prays that +it may see thee happy!--so much so, that I would not have given thee to +Clarence, whom it likes me well to view as Isabel’s betrothed, for, to +her, greatness and bliss are one; and she is of firm nature, and can +rule in her own house; but thou--where out of romaunt can I find a lord +loving enough for thee, soft child?” + +Inexpressibly affected, Anne threw herself on her father’s breast and +wept. He caressed and soothed her fondly; and before her emotion was +well over, Gloucester and Isabel joined them. + +“My fair cousin,” said the duke, “hath promised to show me thy +renowned steed, Saladin; and since, on quitting thy halls, I go to my +apprenticeship in war on the turbulent Scottish frontier, I would +fain ask thee for a destrier of the same race as that which bears the +thunderbolt of Warwick’s wrath through the storm of battle.” + +“A steed of the race of Saladin,” answered the earl, leading the way to +the destrier’s stall, apart from all other horses, and rather a chamber +of the castle than a stable, “were indeed a boon worthy a soldier’s gift +and a prince’s asking. But, alas! Saladin, like myself, is sonless,--the +last of a long line.” + +“His father, methinks, fell for us on the field of Towton. Was it not +so? I have heard Edward say that when the archers gave way, and the +victory more than wavered, thou, dismounting, didst slay thy steed with +thine own hand, and kissing the cross of thy sword, swore on that spot +to stem the rush of the foe, and win Edward’s crown or Warwick’s grave.” + [“Every Palm Sunday, the day on which the battle of Towton was fought, +a rough figure, called the Red Horse, on the side of a hill in +Warwickshire, is scoured out. This is suggested to be done in +commemoration of the horse which the Earl of Warwick slew on that day, +determined to vanquish or die.”--Roberts: York and Lancaster, vol. i. p. +429.] + +“It was so; and the shout of my merry men, when they saw me amongst +their ranks on foot--all flight forbid--was Malech’s death-dirge. It +is a wondrous race,--that of Malech and his son Saladin,” continued the +earl, smiling. “When my ancestor, Aymer de Nevile, led his troops to +the Holy Land, under Coeur de Lion, it was his fate to capture a lady +beloved by the mighty Saladin. Need I say that Aymer, under a flag of +truce, escorted her ransomless, her veil never raised from her face, to +the tent of the Saracen king? Saladin, too gracious for an infidel, made +him tarry a while, an honoured guest; and Aymer’s chivalry became sorely +tried, for the lady he had delivered loved and tempted him; but the good +knight prayed and fasted, and defied Satan and all his works. The lady +(so runs the legend) grew wroth at the pious crusader’s disdainful +coldness; and when Aymer returned to his comrades, she sent, amidst the +gifts of the soldan, two coal-black steeds, male and mare, over which +some foul and weird spells had been duly muttered. Their beauty, speed, +art, and fierceness were a marvel. And Aymer, unsuspecting, prized the +boon, and selected the male destrier for his war-horse. Great were the +feats, in many a field, which my forefather wrought, bestriding his +black charger. But one fatal day, on which the sudden war-trump made him +forget his morning ave, the beast had power over the Christian, and bore +him, against bit and spur, into the thickest of the foe. He did all a +knight can do against many (pardon his descendant’s vaunting,--so runs +the tale), and the Christians for a while beheld him solitary in the +melee, mowing down moon and turban. Then the crowd closed, and the good +knight was lost to sight. ‘To the rescue!’ cried bold King Richard, and +on rushed the crusaders to Aymer’s help; when lo! and suddenly the ranks +severed, and the black steed emerged! Aymer still on the selle, but +motionless, and his helm battered and plumeless, his brand broken, +his arm drooping. On came man and horse, on,--charging on, not against +Infidel but Christian. On dashed the steed, I say, with fire bursting +from eyes and nostrils, and the pike of his chaffron bent lance-like +against the crusaders’ van. The foul fiend seemed in the destrier’s rage +and puissance. He bore right against Richard’s standard-bearer, and down +went the lion and the cross. He charged the king himself; and Richard, +unwilling to harm his own dear soldier Aymer, halted wondering, till the +pike of the destrier pierced his own charger through the barding, and +the king lay rolling in the dust. A panic seized the cross-men; they +fled, the Saracens pursued, and still with the Saracens came the black +steed and the powerless rider. At last, when the crusaders reached the +camp, and the flight ceased, there halted, also, Aymer. Not a man dared +near him. He spoke not, none spoke to him, till a holy priest and palmer +approached and sprinkled the good knight and the black barb with holy +water, and exorcised both; the spell broke, and Aymer dropped to the +earth. They unbraced his helm,--he was cold and stark. The fierce steed +had but borne a dead man.” + +“Holy Paul!” cried Gloucester, with seeming sanctimony, though a covert +sneer played round the firm beauty of his pale lips, “a notable tale, +and one that proveth much of Sacred Truth, now lightly heeded. But, +verily, lord earl, I should have little loved a steed with such a +pedigree.” + +“Hear the rest,” said Isabel. “King Richard ordered the destrier to be +slain forthwith; but the holy palmer who had exorcised it forbade the +sacrifice. ‘Mighty shall be the service,’ said the reverend man, ‘which +the posterity of this steed shall render to thy royal race, and great +glory shall they give to the sons of Nevile. Let the war-horse, now duly +exorcised from infidel spells, live long to bear a Christian warrior!’” + +“And so,” quoth the earl, taking up the tale--“so mare and horse were +brought by Aymer’s squires to his English hall; and Aymer’s son, Sir +Reginald, bore the cross, and bestrode the fatal steed, without fear and +without scathe. From that hour the House of Nevile rose amain, in fame +and in puissance; and the legend further saith, that the same palmer +encountered Sir Reginald at Joppa, bade him treasure that race of +war-steeds as his dearest heritage, for with that race his own should +flourish and depart; and the sole one of the Infidel’s spells which +could not be broken was that which united the gift--generation after +generation, for weal or for woe, for honour or for doom--to the fate of +Aymer and his House. ‘And,’ added the palmer, ‘as with woman’s love and +woman’s craft was woven the indissoluble charm, so shall woman, whether +in craft or in love, ever shape the fortunes of thee and thine.’” + +“As yet,” said the prince, “the prophecy is fulfilled in a golden sense, +for nearly all thy wide baronies, I trow, have come to thee through the +female side. A woman’s hand brought to the Nevile this castle and its +lands; [Middleham Castle was built by Robert Fitz Ranulph, grandson of +Ribald, younger brother of the Earl of Bretagne and Richmond, nephew to +the Conqueror. The founder’s line failed in male heirs, and the heiress +married Robert Nevile, son of Lord Raby. Warwick’s father held the +earldom of Salisbury in right of his wife, the heiress of Thomas de +Montacute.] from a woman came the heritage of Monthermer and Montagu, +and Salisbury’s famous earldom; and the dower of thy peerless countess +was the broad domains of Beauchamp.” + +“And a woman’s craft, young prince, wrought my king’s displeasure! But +enough of these dissour’s tales; behold the son of poor Malech, whom, +forgetting all such legends, I slew at Towton. Ho, Saladin, greet thy +master!” + +They stood now in the black steed’s stall.--an ample and high-vaulted +space, for halter never insulted the fierce destrier’s mighty neck, +which the God of Battles had clothed in thunder. A marble cistern +contained his limpid drink, and in a gilded manger the finest wheaten +bread was mingled with the oats of Flanders. On entering, they found +young George, Montagu’s son, with two or three boys, playing familiarly +with the noble animal, who had all the affectionate docility inherited +from an Arab origin. But at the sound of Warwick’s voice, its ears rose, +its mane dressed itself, and with a short neigh it came to his feet, and +kneeling down, in slow and stately grace, licked its master’s hand. So +perfect and so matchless a steed never had knight bestrode! Its hide +without one white hair, and glossy as the sheenest satin; a lady’s +tresses were scarcely finer than the hair of its noble mane; the +exceeding smallness of its head, its broad frontal, the remarkable and +almost human intelligence of its eye, seemed actually to elevate its +conformation above that of its species. Though the race had increased, +generation after generation, in size and strength, Prince Richard still +marvelled (when, obedient to a sign from Warwick, the destrier rose, and +leaned its head, with a sort of melancholy and quiet tenderness, upon +the earl’s shoulder) that a horse, less in height and bulk than the +ordinary battle-steed, could bear the vast weight of the giant earl in +his ponderous mail. But his surprise ceased when the earl pointed out +to him the immense strength of the steed’s ample loins, the sinewy +cleanness, the iron muscle, of the stag-like legs, the bull-like breadth +of chest, and the swelling power of the shining neck. + +“And after all,” added the earl, “both in man and beast, the spirit +and the race, not the stature and the bulk, bring the prize. Mort Dieu, +Richard! it often shames me of mine own thews and broad breast,--I had +been more vain of laurels had I been shorter by the head!” + +“Nevertheless,” said young George of Montagu, with a page’s pertness, “I +had rather have thine inches than Prince Richard’s, and thy broad breast +than his grace’s short neck.” + +The Duke of Gloucester turned as if a snake had stung him. He gave but +one glance to the speaker, but that glance lived forever in the boy’s +remembrance, and the young Montagu turned pale and trembled, even before +he heard the earl’s stern rebuke. + +“Young magpies chatter, boy,--young eagles in silence measure the space +between the eyry and the sun!” + +The boy hung his head, and would have slunk off, but Richard detained +him with a gentle hand. “My fair young cousin,” said he, “thy words gall +no sore, and if ever thou and I charge side by side into the foeman’s +ranks, thou shalt comprehend what thy uncle designed to say,--how, in +the hour of strait and need, we measure men’s stature not by the body +but the soul!” + +“A noble answer,” whispered Anne, with something like sisterly +admiration. + +“Too noble,” said the more ambitious Isabel, in the same voice, “for +Clarence’s future wife not to fear Clarence’s dauntless brother.” + +“And so,” said the prince, quitting the stall with Warwick, while the +girls still lingered behind, “so Saladin hath no son! Wherefore? Can you +mate him with no bride?” + +“Faith,” answered the earl, “the females of his race sleep in yonder +dell, their burial-place, and the proud beast disdains all meaner loves. +Nay, were it not so, to continue the breed, if adulterated, were but to +mar it.” + +“You care little for the legend, meseems.” + +“Pardieu! at times, yes, over much; but in sober moments I think that +the brave man who does his duty lacks no wizard prophecy to fulfil his +doom; and whether in prayer or in death, in fortune or defeat, his soul +goes straight to God!” + +“Umph,” said Richard, musingly; and there was a pause. “Warwick,” + resumed the prince, “doubtless, even on your return to London, the +queen’s enmity and her mother’s will not cease. Clarence loves Isabel, +but Clarence knows not how to persuade the king and rule the king’s +womankind. Thou knowest how I have stood aloof from all the factions +of the court. Unhappily I go to the Borders, and can but slightly serve +thee. But--” (he stopped short, and sighed heavily). + +“Speak on, Prince.” + +“In a word, then, if I were thy son, Anne’s husband, I see--I see--I +see--” (thrice repeated the prince, with a vague dreaminess in his eye, +and stretching forth his hand)--“a future that might defy all foes, +opening to me and thee!” + +Warwick hesitated in some embarrassment. + +“My gracious and princely cousin,” he said at length, “this proffer is +indeed sweet incense to a father’s pride. But pardon me, as yet, noble +Richard, thou art so young that the king and the world would blame +me did I suffer my ambition to listen to such temptation. Enough, at +present, if all disputes between our House and the king can be smoothed +and laid at rest without provoking new ones. Nay, pardon me, prince, let +this matter cease--at least, till thy return from the Borders.” + +“May I take with me hope?” + +“Nay,” said Warwick, “thou knowest that I am a plain man; to bid thee +hope were to plight my word. And,” he added seriously, “there be reasons +grave and well to be considered why both the daughters of a subject +should not wed with their king’s brothers. Let this cease now, I pray +thee, sweet lord.” + +Here the demoiselles joined their father, and the conference was over; +but when Richard, an hour after, stood musing alone on the battlements, +he muttered to himself, “Thou art a fool, stout earl, not to have +welcomed the union between thy power and my wit. Thou goest to a court +where without wit power is nought. Who may foresee the future? Marry, +that was a wise ancient fable, that he who seized and bound Proteus +could extract from the changeful god the prophecy of the days to come. +Yea! the man who can seize Fate can hear its voice predict to him. And +by my own heart and brain, which never yet relinquished what affection +yearned for, or thought aspired to, I read, as in a book, Anne, that +thou shalt be mine; and that where wave on yon battlements the ensigns +of Beauchamp, Monthermer, and Nevile, the Boar of Gloucester shall liege +it over their broad baronies and hardy vassals.” + + + + +BOOK VI + +WHEREIN ARE OPENED SOME GLIMPSES OF THE FATE BELOW THAT ATTENDS THOSE +WHO ARE BETTER THAN OTHERS, AND THOSE WHO DESIRE TO MAKE OTHERS BETTER. +LOVE, DEMAGOGY, AND SCIENCE ALL EQUALLY OFF-SPRING OF THE SAME PROLIFIC +DELUSION,--NAMELY, THAT MEAN SOULS (THE EARTH’S MAJORITY) ARE WORTH +THE HOPE AND THE AGONY OF NOBLE SOULS, THE EVERLASTING SUFFERING AND +ASPIRING FEW. + + + + +CHAPTER I. NEW DISSENSIONS. + +We must pass over some months. Warwick and his family had returned to +London, and the meeting between Edward and the earl had been cordial +and affectionate. Warwick was reinstated in the offices which gave him +apparently the supreme rule in England. The Princess Margaret had left +England as the bride of Charles the Bold; and the earl had attended +the procession in honour of her nuptials. The king, agreeably with the +martial objects he had had long at heart, had then declared war on +Louis XI., and parliament was addressed and troops were raised for that +impolitic purpose. [Parliamentary Rolls, 623. The fact in the text has +been neglected by most historians.] To this war, however, Warwick was +inflexibly opposed. He pointed out the madness of withdrawing from +England all her best-affected chivalry, at a time when the adherents of +Lancaster, still powerful, would require no happier occasion to raise +the Red Rose banner. He showed how hollow was the hope of steady aid +from the hot but reckless and unprincipled Duke of Burgundy, and how +different now was the condition of France under a king of consummate +sagacity and with an overflowing treasury to its distracted state in the +former conquests of the English. This opposition to the king’s will gave +every opportunity for Warwick’s enemies to renew their old accusation +of secret and treasonable amity with Louis. Although the proud and hasty +earl had not only forgiven the affront put upon him by Edward, but had +sought to make amends for his own intemperate resentment, by public +attendance on the ceremonials that accompanied the betrothal of the +princess, it was impossible for Edward ever again to love the minister +who had defied his power and menaced his crown. His humour and his +suspicions broke forth despite the restraint that policy dictated to +him: and in the disputes upon the invasion of France, a second and more +deadly breach between Edward and his minister must have yawned, had not +events suddenly and unexpectedly proved the wisdom of Warwick’s distrust +of Burgundy. Louis XI. bought off the Duke of Bretagne, patched up a +peace with Charles the Bold, and thus frustrated all the schemes and +broke all the alliances of Edward at the very moment his military +preparations were ripe. [W. Wyr, 518.] + +Still the angry feelings that the dispute had occasioned between Edward +and the earl were not removed with the cause; and under pretence of +guarding against hostilities from Louis, the king requested Warwick to +depart to his government of Calais, the most important and honourable +post, it is true, which a subject could then hold: but Warwick +considered the request as a pretext for his removal from the court. A +yet more irritating and insulting cause of offence was found in Edward’s +withholding his consent to Clarence’s often-urged demand for permission +to wed with the Lady Isabel. It is true that this refusal was +accompanied with the most courteous protestations of respect for the +earl, and placed only upon the general ground of state policy. + +“My dear George,” Edward would say, “the heiress of Lord Warwick is +certainly no mal-alliance for a king’s brother; but the safety of the +throne imperatively demands that my brothers should strengthen my +rule by connections with foreign potentates. I, it is true, married +a subject, and see all the troubles that have sprung from my boyish +passion! No, no! Go to Bretagne. The duke hath a fair daughter, and we +will make up for any scantiness in the dower. Weary me no more, George. +Fiat voluntas mea!” + +But the motives assigned were not those which influenced the king’s +refusal. Reasonably enough, he dreaded that the next male heir to his +crown should wed the daughter of the subject who had given that crown, +and might at any time take it away. He knew Clarence to be giddy, +unprincipled, and vain. Edward’s faith in Warwick was shaken by the +continual and artful representations of the queen and her family. He +felt that the alliance between Clarence and the earl would be the union +of two interests almost irresistible if once arrayed against his own. + +But Warwick, who penetrated into the true reason for Edward’s obstinacy, +was yet more resentful against the reasons than the obstinacy itself. +The one galled him through his affections, the other through his pride; +and the first were as keen as the last was morbid. He was the more +chafed, inasmuch as his anxiety of father became aroused. Isabel was +really attached to Clarence, who, with all his errors, possessed every +superficial attraction that graced his House,--gallant and handsome, gay +and joyous, and with manners that made him no less popular than Edward +himself. + +And if Isabel’s affections were not deep, disinterested, and tender, +like those of Anne, they were strengthened by a pride which she +inherited from her father, and a vanity which she took from her sex. +It was galling in the extreme to feel that the loves between her and +Clarence were the court gossip, and the king’s refusal the court jest. +Her health gave way, and pride and love both gnawed at her heart. + +It happened, unfortunately for the king and for Warwick, that +Gloucester, whose premature acuteness and sagacity would have the more +served both, inasmuch as the views he had formed in regard to Anne +would have blended his interest in some degree with that of the Duke of +Clarence, and certainly with the object of conciliation between Edward +and his minister,--it happened, we say, unfortunately, that Gloucester +was still absent with the forces employed on the Scottish frontier, +whither he had repaired on quitting Middleham, and where his +extraordinary military talents found their first brilliant opening; and +he was therefore absent from London during all the disgusts he might +have removed and the intrigues he might have frustrated. + +But the interests of the House of Warwick, during the earl’s sullen and +indignant sojourn at his government of Calais, were not committed to +unskilful hands; and Montagu and the archbishop were well fitted to cope +with Lord Rivers and the Duchess of Bedford. + +Between these able brothers, one day, at the More, an important +conference took place. + +“I have sought you,” said Montagu, with more than usual care upon his +brow--“I have sought you in consequence of an event that may lead +to issues of no small moment, whether for good or evil. Clarence has +suddenly left England for Calais.” + +“I know it, Montagu; the duke confided to me his resolution to proclaim +himself old enough to marry,--and discreet enough to choose for +himself.” + +“And you approved?” + +“Certes; and, sooth to say, I brought him to that modest opinion of his +own capacities. What is more still, I propose to join him at Calais.” + +“George!” + +“Look not so scared, O valiant captain, who never lost a battle,--where +the Church meddles, all prospers. Listen!” And the young prelate +gathered himself up from his listless posture, and spoke with earnest +unction. “Thou knowest that I do not much busy myself in lay schemes; +when I do, the object must be great. Now, Montagu, I have of late +narrowly and keenly watched that spidery web which ye call a court, and +I see that the spider will devour the wasp, unless the wasp boldly break +the web,--for woman-craft I call the spider, and soldier-pride I style +the wasp. To speak plainly, these Woodvilles must be bravely breasted +and determinately abashed. I do not mean that we can deal with the +king’s wife and her family as with any other foes; but we must convince +them that they cannot cope with us, and that their interests will best +consist in acquiescing in that condition of things which places the rule +of England in the hands of the Neviles.” + +“My own thought, if I saw the way!” + +“I see the way in this alliance; the Houses of York and Warwick must +become so indissolubly united, that an attempt to injure the one must +destroy both. The queen and the Woodvilles plot against us; we must +raise in the king’s family a counterpoise to their machinations. It +brings no scandal on the queen to conspire against Warwick, but it would +ruin her in the eyes of England to conspire against the king’s brother; +and Clarence and Warwick must be as one. This is not all! If our +sole aid was in giddy George, we should but buttress our House with a +weathercock. This connection is but as a part of the grand scheme on +which I have set my heart,--Clarence shall wed Isabel, Gloucester wed +Anne, and (let thy ambitious heart beat high, Montagu) the king’s eldest +daughter shall wed thy son,--the male representative of our triple +honours. Ah, thine eyes sparkle now! Thus the whole royalty of England +shall centre in the Houses of Nevile and York; and the Woodvilles will +be caught and hampered in their own meshes, their resentment impotent; +for how can Elizabeth stir against us, if her daughter be betrothed +to the son of Montagu, the nephew of Warwick? Clarence, beloved by the +shallow commons; [Singular as it may seem to those who know not that +popularity is given to the vulgar qualities of men, and that where a +noble nature becomes popular (a rare occurrence), it is despite the +nobleness,--not because of it. Clarence was a popular idol even to the +time of his death.--Croyl., 562.] Gloucester, adored both by the army +and the Church; and Montagu and Warwick, the two great captains of the +age,--is not this a combination of power that may defy Fate?” + +“O George!” said Montagu, admiringly, “what pity that the Church should +spoil such a statesman!” + +“Thou art profane, Montagu; the Church spoils no man,--the Church +leads and guides ye all; and, mark, I look farther still. I would have +intimate league with France; I would strengthen ourselves with Spain +and the German Emperor; I would buy or seduce the votes of the sacred +college; I would have thy poor brother, whom thou so pitiest because he +has no son to marry a king’s daughter, no daughter to wed with a king’s +son--I would have thy unworthy brother, Montagu, the father of the whole +Christian world, and, from the chair of the Vatican, watch over the weal +of kingdoms. And now, seest thou why with to-morrow’s sun I depart for +Calais, and lend my voice in aid of Clarence’s for the first knot in +this complicated bond?” + +“But will Warwick consent while the king opposes? Will his pride--” + +“His pride serves us here; for so long as Clarence did not dare to +gainsay the king, Warwick in truth might well disdain to press his +daughter’s hand upon living man. The king opposes, but with what right? +Warwick’s pride will but lead him, if well addressed, to defy affront +and to resist dictation. Besides, our brother has a woman’s heart for +his children; and Isabel’s face is pale, and that will plead more than +all my eloquence.” + +“But can the king forgive your intercession and Warwick’s contumacy?” + +“Forgive!--the marriage once over, what is left for him to do? He +is then one with us, and when Gloucester returns all will be smooth +again,--smooth for the second and more important nuptials; and the +second shall preface the third; meanwhile, you return to the court. To +these ceremonials you need be no party: keep but thy handsome son from +breaking his neck in over-riding his hobby, and ‘bide thy time!’” + +Agreeably with the selfish but sagacious policy thus detailed, the +prelate departed the next day for Calais, where Clarence was already +urging his suit with the ardent impatience of amorous youth. The +archbishop found, however, that Warwick was more reluctant than he +had anticipated, to suffer his daughter to enter any House without +the consent of its chief; nor would the earl, in all probability, have +acceded to the prayers of the princely suitor, had not Edward, enraged +at the flight of Clarence, and worked upon by the artful queen, +committed the imprudence of writing an intemperate and menacing letter +to the earl, which called up all the passions of the haughty Warwick. + +“What!” he exclaimed, “thinks this ungrateful man not only to dishonour +me by his method of marrying his sisters, but will he also play the +tyrant with me in the disposal of mine own daughter! He threats! +he!--enough. It is due to me to show that there lives no man whose +threats I have not the heart to defy!” And the prelate finding him in +this mood had no longer any difficulty in winning his consent. This +ill-omened marriage was, accordingly, celebrated with great and regal +pomp at Calais, and the first object of the archbishop was attained. + +While thus stood affairs between the two great factions of the state, +those discontents which Warwick’s presence at court had a while laid at +rest again spread, broad and far, throughout the land. The luxury and +indolence of Edward’s disposition in ordinary times always surrendered +him to the guidance of others. In the commencement of his reign he +was eminently popular, and his government, though stern, suited to the +times; for then the presiding influence was that of Lord Warwick. As the +queen’s counsels prevailed over the consummate experience and masculine +vigour of the earl, the king’s government lost both popularity and +respect, except only in the metropolis; and if, at the close of his +reign, it regained all its earlier favour with the people, it must be +principally ascribed to the genius of Hastings, then England’s most +powerful subject, and whose intellect calmly moved all the springs of +action. But now everywhere the royal authority was weakened; and while +Edward was feasting at Shene and Warwick absent at Calais, the provinces +were exposed to all the abuses which most gall a population. The poor +complained that undue exactions were made on them by the hospitals, +abbeys, and barons; the Church complained that the queen’s relations had +seized and spent Church moneys; the men of birth and merit complained +of the advancement of new men who had done no service: and all these +several discontents fastened themselves upon the odious Woodvilles, as +the cause of all. The second breach, now notorious, between the king and +the all-beloved Warwick, was a new aggravation of the popular hatred to +the queen’s family, and seemed to give occasion for the malcontents to +appear with impunity, at least so far as the earl was concerned: it +was, then, at this critical time that the circumstances we are about to +relate occurred. + + + + +CHAPTER II. THE WOULD-BE IMPROVERS OF JOVE’S FOOTBALL, EARTH.--THE SAD +FATHER AND THE SAD CHILD.--THE FAIR RIVALS. + +Adam Warner was at work on his crucible when the servitor commissioned +to attend him opened the chamber door, and a man dressed in the black +gown of a student entered. + +He approached the alchemist, and after surveying him for a moment in a +silence that seemed not without contempt, said, “What, Master Warner, +are you so wedded to your new studies that you have not a word to bestow +on an old friend?” + +Adam turned, and after peevishly gazing at the intruder a few moments, +his face brightened up into recognition. + +“En iterum!” he said. “Again, bold Robin Hilyard, and in a scholar’s +garb! Ha! doubtless thou hast learned ere this that peaceful studies do +best insure man’s weal below, and art come to labour with me in the high +craft of mind-work!” + +“Adam,” quoth Hilyard, “ere I answer, tell me this: Thou with thy +science wouldst change the world: art thou a jot nearer to thy end?” + +“Well-a-day,” said poor Adam, “you know little what I have undergone. +For danger to myself by rack and gibbet I say nought. Man’s body is +fair prey to cruelty, and what a king spares to-day the worm shall gnaw +to-morrow. But mine invention--my Eureka--look!” and stepping aside, he +lifted a cloth, and exhibited the mangled remains of the unhappy model. + +“I am forbid to restore it,” continued Adam, dolefully. “I must work day +and night to make gold, and the gold comes not; and my only change of +toil is when the queen bids me construct little puppet-boxes for her +children! How, then, can I change the world? And thou,” he added, +doubtingly and eagerly--“thou, with thy plots and stratagem, and active +demagogy, thinkest thou that thou hast changed the world, or extracted +one drop of evil out of the mixture of gall and hyssop which man is born +to drink?” + +Hilyard was silent, and the two world-betterers--the philosopher and the +demagogue--gazed on each other, half in sympathy, half in contempt. At +last Robin said,-- + +“Mine old friend, hope sustains us both; and in the wilderness we yet +behold the Pisgah! But to my business. Doubtless thou art permitted to +visit Henry in his prison.” + +“Not so,” replied Adam; “and for the rest, since I now eat King Edward’s +bread, and enjoy what they call his protection, ill would it beseem me +to lend myself to plots against his throne.” + +“Ah, man, man, man,” exclaimed Hilyard, bitterly, “thou art like all the +rest,--scholar or serf, the same slave; a king’s smile bribes thee from +a people’s service!” + +Before Adam could reply, a panel in the wainscot slid back and the bald +head of a friar peered into the room. “Son Adam,” said the holy man, +“I crave your company an instant, oro vestrem aurem;” and with this +abominable piece of Latinity the friar vanished. + +With a resigned and mournful shrug of the shoulders, Adam walked across +the room, when Hilyard, arresting his progress, said, crossing himself, +and in a subdued and fearful whisper, “Is not that Friar Bungey, the +notable magician?” + +“Magician or not,” answered Warner, with a lip of inexpressible contempt +and a heavy sigh, “God pardon his mother for giving birth to such +a numskull!” and with this pious and charitable ejaculation Adam +disappeared in the adjoining chamber, appropriated to the friar. + +“Hum,” soliloquized Hilyard, “they say that Friar Bungey is employed +by the witch duchess in everlasting diabolisms against her foes. A peep +into his den might suffice me for a stirring tale to the people.” + +No sooner did this daring desire arise than the hardy Robin resolved to +gratify it; and stealing on tiptoe along the wall, he peered cautiously +through the aperture made by the sliding panel. An enormous stuffed +lizard hung from the ceiling, and various strange reptiles, dried into +mummy, were ranged around, and glared at the spy with green glass eyes. +A huge book lay open on a tripod stand, and a caldron seethed over a +slow and dull fire. A sight yet more terrible presently awaited the rash +beholder. + +“Adam,” said the friar, laying his broad palm on the student’s reluctant +shoulders, “inter sapentes.” + +“Sapientes, brother,” groaned Adam. + +“That’s the old form, Adam,” quoth the friar, superciliously,--“sapentes +is the last improvement. I say, between wise men there is no envy. Our +noble and puissant patroness, the Duchess of Bedford, hath committed to +me a task that promiseth much profit. I have worked at it night and day +stotis filibus.” + +“O man, what lingo speakest thou?--stotis filibus!” + +“Tush, if it is not good Latin, it does as well, son Adam. I say I have +worked at it night and day, and it is now advanced eno’ for experiment. +But thou art going to sleep.” + +“Despatch! speak out! speak on!” said Adam, desperately,--“what is thy +achievement?” + +“See!” answered the friar, majestically; and drawing aside a black pall, +he exhibited to the eyes of Adam, and to the more startled gaze of Robin +Hilyard, a pale, cadaverous, corpse-like image, of pigmy proportions, +but with features moulded into a coarse caricature of the lordly +countenance of the Earl of Warwick. + +“There,” said the friar, complacently, and rubbing his hands, “that is +no piece of bungling, eh? As like the stout earl as one pea to another.” + +“And for what hast thou kneaded up all this waste of wax?” asked Adam. +“Forsooth, I knew not you had so much of ingenious art; algates, the toy +is somewhat ghastly.” + +“Ho, ho!” quoth the friar, laughing so as to show a set of jagged, +discoloured fangs from ear to ear, “surely thou, who art so notable a +wizard and scholar, knowest for what purpose we image forth our enemies. +Whatever the duchess inflicts upon this figure, the Earl of Warwick, +whom it representeth, will feel through his bones and marrow,--waste +wax, waste man!” + +“Thou art a devil to do this thing, and a blockhead to think it, O +miserable friar!” exclaimed Adam, roused from all his gentleness. + +“Ha!” cried the friar, no less vehemently, and his burly face purple +with passion, “dost thou think to bandy words with me? Wretch! I will +set goblins to pinch thee black and blue! I will drag thee at night over +all the jags of Mount Pepanon, at the tail of a mad nightmare! I will +put aches in all thy bones, and the blood in thy veins shall run into +sores and blotches. Am I not Friar Bungey? And what art thou?” + +At these terrible denunciations, the sturdy Robin, though far less +superstitious than most of his contemporaries, was seized with a +trembling from head to foot; and expecting to see goblins and imps start +forth from the walls, he retired hastily from his hiding-place, and, +without waiting for further commune with Warner, softly opened the +chamber door and stole down the stairs. Adam, however, bore the storm +unquailingly, and when the holy man paused to take breath, he said +calmly,-- + +“Verily, if thou canst do these things, there must be secrets in Nature +which I have not yet discovered. Howbeit, though thou art free to try +all thou canst against me, thy threats make it necessary that this +communication between us should be nailed up, and I shall so order.” + +The friar, who was ever in want of Adam’s aid, either to construe a bit +of Latin, or to help him in some chemical illusion, by no means relished +this quiet retort; and holding out his huge hand to Adam, said, with +affected cordiality,-- + +“Pooh! we are brothers, and must not quarrel. I was over hot, and thou +too provoking; but I honour and love thee, man,--let it pass. As for +this figure, doubtless we might pink it all over, and the earl be never +the worse. But if our employers order these things and pay for them, we +cunning men make profit by fools!” + +“It is men like thee that bring shame on science,” answered Adam, +sternly; “and I will not listen to thee longer.” + +“Nay, but you must,” said the friar, clutching Adam’s robe, and +concealing his resentment by an affected grin. “Thou thinkest me a mere +ignoramus--ha! ha!--I think the same of thee. Why, man, thou hast never +studied the parts of the human body, I’ll swear.” + +“I’m no leech,” said Adam. “Let me go.” + +“No, not yet. I will convict thee of ignorance. Thou dost not even know +where the liver is placed.” + +“I do,” answered Adam, shortly; “but what then?” + +“Thou dost?--I deny it. Here is a pin; stick it into this wax, man, +where thou sayest the liver lies in the human frame.” + +Adam unsuspiciously obeyed. + +“Well! the liver is there, eh? Ah, but where are the lungs?” + +“Why, here.” + +“And the midriff?” + +“Here, certes.” + +“Right!--thou mayest go now,” said the friar, dryly. Adam disappeared +through the aperture, and closed the panel. + +“Now I know where the lungs, midriff, and liver are,” said the friar +to himself, “I shall get on famously. ‘T is a useful fellow, that, or I +should have had him hanged long ago!” + +Adam did not remark on his re-entrance that his visitor, Hilyard, +had disappeared, and the philosopher was soon reimmersed in the fiery +interest of his thankless labours. + +It might be an hour afterwards, when, wearied and exhausted by perpetual +hope and perpetual disappointment, he flung himself on his seat; and +that deep sadness, which they who devote themselves in this noisy +world to wisdom and to truth alone can know, suffused his thoughts, and +murmured from his feverish lips. + +“Oh, hard condition of my life!” groaned the sage,--“ever to strive, +and never to accomplish. The sun sets and the sun rises upon my eternal +toils, and my age stands as distant from the goal as stood my youth! +Fast, fast the mind is wearing out the frame, and my schemes have but +woven the ropes of sand, and my name shall be writ in water. Golden +dreams of my young hope, where are ye? Methought once, that could I +obtain the grace of royalty, the ear of power, the command of wealth, +my path to glory was made smooth and sure; I should become the grand +inventor of my time and land; I should leave my lore a heritage and +blessing wherever labour works to civilize the round globe. And now my +lodging is a palace, royalty my patron; they give me gold at my desire; +my wants no longer mar my leisure. Well, and for what? On condition that +I forego the sole task for which patronage, wealth, and leisure were +desired! There stands the broken iron, and there simmers the ore I am to +turn to gold,--the iron worth more than all the gold, and the gold +never to be won! Poor, I was an inventor, a creator, the true magician; +protected, patronized, enriched, I am but the alchemist, the bubble, the +dupe or duper, the fool’s fool. God, brace up my limbs! Let me escape! +give me back my old dream, and die at least, if accomplishing nothing, +hoping all!” + +He rose as he spoke; he strode across the chamber with majestic step, +with resolve upon his brow. He stopped short, for a sharp pain shot +across his heart. Premature age and the disease that labour brings were +at their work of decay within: the mind’s excitement gave way to the +body’s weakness, and he sank again upon his seat, breathing hard, +gasping, pale, the icy damps upon his brow. Bubblingly seethed the +molten metals, redly glowed the poisonous charcoal, the air of death was +hot within the chamber where the victim of royal will pandered to the +desire of gold. Terrible and eternal moral for Wisdom and for Avarice, +for sages and for kings,--ever shall he who would be the maker of gold +breathe the air of death! + +“Father,” said the low and touching voice of one who had entered +unperceived, and who now threw her arms round Adam’s neck, “Father, thou +art ill, and sorely suffering--” + +“At heart--yes, Sibyll. Give me thine arm; let us forth and taste the +fresher air.” + +It was so seldom that Warner could be induced to quit his chamber, that +these words almost startled Sibyll, and she looked anxiously in his +face, as she wiped the dews from his forehead. + +“Yes--air--air!” repeated Adam, rising. + +Sibyll placed his bonnet over his silvered locks, drew his gown more +closely round him, and slowly and in silence they left the chamber, and +took their way across the court to the ramparts of the fortress-palace. + +The day was calm and genial, with a low but fresh breeze stirring gently +through the warmth of noon. The father and child seated themselves on +the parapet, and saw, below, the gay and numerous vessels that glided +over the sparkling river, while the dark walls of Baynard’s Castle, +the adjoining bulwark and battlements of Montfichet, and the tall +watch-tower of Warwick’s mighty mansion frowned in the distance against +the soft blue sky. “There,” said Adam, quietly, and pointing to the +feudal roofs, “there seems to rise power, and yonder (glancing to the +river), yonder seems to flow Genius! A century or so hence the walls +shall vanish, but the river shall roll on. Man makes the castle, and +founds the power,--God forms the river and creates the Genius. And yet, +Sibyll, there may be streams as broad and stately as yonder Thames, that +flow afar in the waste, never seen, never heard by man. What profits the +river unmarked; what the genius never to be known?” + +It was not a common thing with Adam Warner to be thus eloquent. Usually +silent and absorbed, it was not his gift to moralize or declaim. His +soul must be deeply moved before the profound and buried sentiment +within it could escape into words. + +Sibyll pressed her father’s hand, and, though her own heart was very +heavy, she forced her lips to smile and her voice to soothe. Adam +interrupted her. + +“Child, child, ye women know not what presses darkest and most bitterly +on the minds of men. You know not what it is to form out of immaterial +things some abstract but glorious object,--to worship, to serve it, +to sacrifice to it, as on an altar, youth, health, hope, life,--and +suddenly in old age to see that the idol was a phantom, a mockery, a +shadow laughing us to scorn, because we have sought to clasp it.” + +“Oh, yes, Father, women have known that illusion.” + +“What! Do they study?” + +“No, Father, but they feel!” + +“Feel! I comprehend thee not.” + +“As man’s genius to him is woman’s heart to her,” answered Sibyll, her +dark and deep eyes suffused with tears. “Doth not the heart create, +invent? Doth it not dream? Doth it not form its idol out of air? Goeth +it not forth into the future, to prophesy to itself? And sooner or +later, in age or youth, doth it not wake at last, and see how it hath +wasted its all on follies? Yes, Father, my heart can answer, when thy +genius would complain.” + +“Sibyll,” said Warner, roused and surprised, and gazing on her +wistfully, “time flies apace. Till this hour I have thought of thee but +as a child, an infant. Thy words disturb me now.” + +“Think not of them, then. Let me never add one grief to thine.” + +“Thou art brave and gay in thy silken sheen,” said Adam, curiously +stroking down the rich, smooth stuff of Sibyll’s tunic; “her grace the +duchess is generous to us. Thou art surely happy here!” + +“Happy!” + +“Not happy!” exclaimed Adam, almost joyfully, “wouldst thou that we were +back once more in our desolate, ruined home?” + +“Yes, ob, yes!--but rather away, far away, in some quiet village, some +green nook; for the desolate, ruined home was not safe for thine old +age.” + +“I would we could escape, Sibyll,” said Adam, earnestly, in a whisper, +and with a kind of innocent cunning in his eye, “we and the poor Eureka! +This palace is a prison-house to me. I will speak to the Lord Hastings, +a man of great excellence, and gentle too. He is ever kind to us.” + +“No, no, Father, not to him,” cried Sibyll, turning pale,--“let him not +know a word of what we would propose, nor whither we would fly.” + +“Child, he loves me, or why does he seek me so often, and sit and talk +not?” + +Sibyll pressed her clasped hands tightly to her bosom, but made no +answer; and while she was summoning courage to say something that seemed +to oppress her thoughts with intolerable weight, a footstep sounded +gently near, and the Lady of Bonville (then on a visit to the queen), +unseen and unheard by the two, approached the spot. She paused, and +gazed at Sibyll, at first haughtily; and then, as the deep sadness of +that young face struck her softer feelings, and the pathetic picture of +father and child, thus alone in their commune, made its pious and sweet +effect, the gaze changed from pride to compassion, and the lady said +courteously,-- + +“Fair mistress, canst thou prefer this solitary scene to the gay company +about to take the air in her grace’s gilded barge?” + +Sibyll looked up in surprise, not unmixed with fear. Never before had +the great lady spoken to her thus gently. Adam, who seemed for a while +restored to the actual life, saluted Katherine with simple dignity, and +took up the word,-- + +“Noble lady, whoever thou art, in thine old age, and thine hour of care, +may thy child, like this poor girl, forsake all gayer comrades for a +parent’s side!” + +The answer touched the Lady of Bonville, and involuntarily she extended +her hand to Sibyll. With a swelling heart, Sibyll, as proud as herself, +bent silently over that rival’s hand. Katherine’s marble cheek coloured, +as she interpreted the girl’s silence. + +“Gentle sir,” she said, after a short pause, “wilt thou permit me a few +words with thy fair daughter? And if in aught, since thou speakest of +care, Lord Warwick’s sister can serve thee, prithee bid thy young maiden +impart it, as to a friend.” + +“Tell her, then, my Sibyll,--tell Lord Warwick’s sister to ask the king +to give back to Adam Warner his poverty, his labour, and his hope,” said +the scholar, and his noble head sank gloomily on his bosom. + +The Lady of Bonville, still holding Sibyll’s hand, drew her a few paces +up the walk, and then she said suddenly, and with some of that blunt +frankness which belonged to her great brother, “Maiden, can there be +confidence between thee and me?” + +“Of what nature, lady?” + +Again Katherine blushed, but she felt the small hand she held tremble in +her clasp, and was emboldened,-- + +“Maiden, thou mayst resent and marvel at my words; but when I had fewer +years than thou, my father said, ‘There are many carks in life which a +little truth could end.’ So would I heed his lesson. William de Hastings +has followed thee with an homage that has broken, perchance, many as +pure a heart,--nay, nay, fair child, hear me on. Thou hast heard that in +youth he wooed Katherine Nevile,--that we loved, and were severed. +They who see us now marvel whether we hate or love,--no, not love--that +question were an insult to Lord Bonville’s wife!--Ofttimes we seem +pitiless to each other,--why? Lord Hastings would have wooed me, an +English matron, to forget mine honour and my House’s. He chafes that he +moves me not. I behold him debasing a great nature to unworthy triflings +with man’s conscience and a knight’s bright faith. But mark me!--the +heart of Hastings is everlastingly mine, and mine alone! What seek I in +this confidence? To warn thee. Wherefore? Because for months, amidst all +the vices of this foul court-air, amidst the flatteries of the softest +voice that ever fell upon woman’s ear, amidst, peradventure, the +pleadings of thine own young and guileless love, thine innocence is +unscathed. And therefore Katherine of Bonville may be the friend of +Sibyll Warner.” + +However generous might be the true spirit of these words, it was +impossible that they should not gall and humiliate the young and +flattered beauty to whom they were addressed. They so wholly discarded +all belief in the affection of Hastings for Sibyll; they so haughtily +arrogated the mastery over his heart; they so plainly implied that his +suit to the poor maiden was but a mockery or dishonour, that they made +even the praise for virtue an affront to the delicate and chaste ear +on which they fell. And, therefore, the reader will not be astonished, +though the Lady of Bonville certainly was, when Sibyll, drawing her hand +from Katherine’s clasp, stopping short, and calmly folding her arms upon +her bosom, said,-- + +“To what this tends, lady, I know not. The Lord Hastings is free to +carry his homage where he will. He has sought me,--not I Lord Hastings. +And if to-morrow he offered me his hand, I would reject it, if I were +not convinced that the heart--” + +“Damsel,” interrupted the Lady Bonville, in amazed contempt, “the hand +of Lord Hastings! Look ye indeed so high, or has he so far paltered with +your credulous youth as to speak to you, the daughter of the alchemist, +of marriage? If so, poor child, beware! + +“I knew not,” replied Sibyll, bitterly, “that Sibyll Warner was more +below the state of Lord Hastings than Master Hastings was once below the +state of Lady Katherine Nevile.” + +“Thou art distraught with thy self-conceit,” answered the dame, +scornfully; and, losing all the compassion and friendly interest she had +before felt, “my rede is spoken,--reject it if thou wilt in pride. Rue +thy folly thou wilt in shame!” + +She drew her wimple round her face as she said these words, and, +gathering up her long robe, swept slowly on. + + + + +CHAPTER III. WHEREIN THE DEMAGOGUE SEEKS THE COURTIER. + +On quitting Adam’s chamber, Hilyard paused not till he reached a stately +house, not far from Warwick Lane, which was the residence of the Lord +Montagu. + +That nobleman was employed in reading, or rather, in pondering over, two +letters, with which a courier from Calais had just arrived, the one +from the archbishop, the other from Warwick. In these epistles were +two passages, strangely contradictory in their counsel. A sentence in +Warwick’s letter ran thus:-- + +“It hath reached me that certain disaffected men meditate a rising +against the king, under pretext of wrongs from the queen’s kin. It is +even said that our kinsmen, Copiers and Fitzhugh, are engaged therein. +Need I caution thee to watch well that they bring our name into no +disgrace or attaint? We want no aid to right our own wrongs; and if the +misguided men rebel, Warwick will best punish Edward by proving that he +is yet of use.” + +On the other hand, thus wrote the prelate:-- + +“The king, wroth with my visit to Calais, has taken from me the +chancellor’s seal. I humbly thank him, and shall sleep the lighter for +the fardel’s loss. Now, mark me, Montagu: our kinsman, Lord Fitzhugh’s +son, and young Henry Nevile, aided by old Sir John Copiers, meditate +a fierce and well-timed assault upon the Woodvilles. Do thou keep +neuter,--neither help nor frustrate it. Howsoever it end, it will answer +our views, and shake our enemies.” + +Montagu was yet musing over these tidings, and marvelling that he +in England should know less than his brethren in Calais of events so +important, when his page informed him that a stranger, with urgent +messages from the north country, craved an audience. Imagining that +these messages would tend to illustrate the communications just +received, he ordered the visitor to be admitted. + +He scarcely noticed Hilyard on his entrance, and said abruptly, “Speak +shortly, friend,--I have but little leisure.” + +“And yet, Lord Montagu, my business may touch thee home.” + +Montagu, surprised, gazed more attentively on his visitor: “Surely, I +know thy face, friend,--we have met before.” + +“True; thou wert then on thy way to the More.” + +“I remember me; and thou then seemedst, from thy bold words, on a still +shorter road to the gallows.” + +“The tree is not planted,” said Robin, carelessly, “that will serve for +my gibbet. But were there no words uttered by me that thou couldst +not disapprove? I spoke of lawless disorders, of shameful malfaisance +throughout the land, which the Woodvilles govern under a lewd tyrant--” + +“Traitor, hold!” + +“A tyrant,” continued Robin, heeding not the interruption nor the +angry gesture of Montagu, “a tyrant who at this moment meditates the +destruction of the House of Nevile. And not contented with this world’s +weapons, palters with the Evil One for the snares and devilries of +witchcraft.” + +“Hush, man! Not so loud,” said Montagu, in an altered voice. “Approach +nearer,--nearer yet. They who talk of a crowned king, whose right hand +raises armies, and whose left hand reposes on the block, should beware +how they speak above their breath. Witchcraft, sayest thou? Make thy +meaning clear.” + +Here Robin detailed, with but little exaggeration, the scene he had +witnessed in Friar Bungey’s chamber,--the waxen image, the menaces +against the Earl of Warwick, and the words of the friar, naming the +Duchess of Bedford as his employer. Montagu listened in attentive +silence. Though not perfectly free from the credulities of the time, +shared even by the courageous heart of Edward and the piercing intellect +of Gloucester, he was yet more alarmed by such proofs of determined +earthly hostility in one so plotting and so near to the throne as the +Duchess of Bedford, than by all the pins and needles that could be +planted into the earl’s waxen counterpart. + +“A devilish malice, indeed,” said he, when Hilyard had concluded; “and +yet this story, if thou wilt adhere to it, may serve us well at need. I +thank thee, trusty friend, for thy confidence, and beseech thee to come +at once with me to the king. There will I denounce our foe, and, with +thine evidence, we will demand her banishment.” + +“By your leave, not a step will I budge, my Lord Montagu,” quoth Robin, +bluntly,--“I know how these matters are managed at court. The king will +patch up a peace between the duchess and you, and chop off my ears and +nose as a liar and common scandal-maker. No, no; denounce the duchess +and all the Woodvilles I will; but it shall not be in the halls of the +Tower, but on the broad plains of Yorkshire, with twenty thousand men at +my back.” + +“Ha! thou a leader of armies,--and for what end,--to dethrone the king?” + +“That as it may be,--but first for justice to the people; it is the +people’s rising that I will head, and not a faction’s. Neither White +Rose nor Red shall be on my banner; but our standard shall be the gory +head of the first oppressor we can place upon a pole.” + +“What is it the people, as you word it, would demand?” + +“I scarce know what we demand as yet,--that must depend upon how we +prosper,” returned Hilyard, with a bitter laugh; “but the rising will +have some good, if it shows only to you lords and Normans that a Saxon +people does exist, and will turn when the iron heel is upon its neck. We +are taxed, ground, pillaged, plundered,--sheep, maintained to be +sheared for your peace or butchered for your war. And now will we have +a petition and a charter of our own, Lord Montagu. I speak frankly. I +am in thy power; thou canst arrest me, thou canst strike off the head of +this revolt. Thou art the king’s friend,--wilt thou do so? No, thou and +thy House have wrongs as well as we, the people. And a part at least of +our demands and our purpose is your own.” + +“What part, bold man?” + +“This: we shall make our first complaint the baneful domination of the +queen’s family; and demand the banishment of the Woodvilles, root and +stem.” + +“Hem!” said Montagu, involuntarily glancing over the archbishop’s +letter,--“hem, but without outrage to the king’s state and person?” + +“Oh, trust me, my lord, the franklin’s head contains as much +north-country cunning as the noble’s. They who would speed well must +feel their way cautiously.” + +“Twenty thousand men--impossible! Who art thou, to collect and head +them?” + +“Plain Robin of Redesdale.” + +“Ha!” exclaimed Montagu, “is it indeed as I was taught to suspect? +Art thou that bold, strange, mad fellow, whom, by pike and brand--a +soldier’s oath--I, a soldier, have often longed to see. Let me look at +thee. ‘Fore Saint George, a tall man, and well knit, with dareiment on +thy brow. Why, there are as many tales of thee in the North as of my +brother the earl. Some say thou art a lord of degree and birth, others +that thou art the robber of Hexham to whom Margaret of Anjou trusted her +own life and her son’s.” + +“Whatever they say of me,” returned Robin, “they all agree in +this,--that I am a man of honest word and bold deed; that I can stir +up the hearts of men, as the wind stirreth fire; that I came an +unknown stranger into the parts where I abide; and that no peer in this +roiaulme, save Warwick himself, can do more to raise an army or shake a +throne.” + +“But by what spell?” + +“By men’s wrongs, lord,” answered Robin, in a deep voice; “and now, ere +this moon wanes, Redesdale is a camp!” + +“What the immediate cause of complaint?” + +“The hospital of St. Leonard’s has compelled us unjustly to render them +a thrave of corn.” + +“Thou art a cunning knave! Pinch the belly if you would make Englishmen +rise.” + +“True,” said Robin, smiling grimly; “and now--what say you--will you +head us?” + +“Head you! No!” + +“Will you betray us?” + +“It is not easy to betray twenty thousand men; if ye rise merely to free +yourselves from a corn-tax and England from the Woodvilles, I see no +treason in your revolt.” + +“I understand you, Lord Montagu,” said Robin, with a stern and +half-scornful smile,--“you are not above thriving by our danger; but we +need now no lord and baron,--we will suffice for ourselves. And the hour +will come, believe me, when Lord Warwick, pursued by the king, must fly +to the Commons. Think well of these things and this prophecy, when the +news from the North startles Edward of March in the lap of his harlots.” + +Without saying another word, he turned and quitted the chamber as +abruptly as he had entered. + +Lord Montagu was not, for his age, a bad man; though worldly, subtle, +and designing, with some of the craft of his prelate brother he united +something of the high soul of his brother soldier. But that age had +not the virtue of later times, and cannot be judged by its standard. +He heard this bold dare-devil menace his country with civil war upon +grounds not plainly stated nor clearly understood,--he aided not, but he +connived: “Twenty thousand men in arms,” he muttered to himself,--“say +half-well, ten thousand--not against Edward, but the Woodvilles! It must +bring the king to his senses; must prove to him how odious the mushroom +race of the Woodvilles, and drive him for safety and for refuge to +Montagu and Warwick. If the knaves presume too far,” (and Montagu +smiled), “what are undisciplined multitudes to the eye of a skilful +captain? Let the storm blow, we will guide the blast. In this world man +must make use of man.” + + + + +CHAPTER IV. SIBYLL. + +While Montagu in anxious forethought awaited the revolt that Robin of +Redesdale had predicted; while Edward feasted and laughed, merry-made +with his courtiers, and aided the conjugal duties of his good citizens +in London; while the queen and her father, Lord Rivers, more and more +in the absence of Warwick encroached on all the good things power can +bestow and avarice seize; while the Duchess of Bedford and Friar Bungey +toiled hard at the waxen effigies of the great earl, who still held his +royal son-in-law in his court at Calais,--the stream of our narrative +winds from its noisier channels, and lingers, with a quiet wave, around +the temple of a virgin’s heart. Wherefore is Sibyll sad? Some short +month since and we beheld her gay with hope and basking in the sunny +atmosphere of pleasure and of love. The mind of this girl was a singular +combination of tenderness and pride,--the first wholly natural, the last +the result of circumstance and position. She was keenly conscious of her +gentle birth and her earlier prospects in the court of Margaret; and +the poverty and distress and solitude in which she had grown up from the +child into the woman had only served to strengthen what, in her nature, +was already strong, and to heighten whatever was already proud. Ever in +her youngest dreams of the future ambition had visibly blent itself with +the vague ideas of love. The imagined wooer was less to be young and +fair than renowned and stately. She viewed him through the mists of the +future, as the protector of her persecuted father, as the rebuilder of a +fallen House, as the ennobler of a humbled name; and from the moment in +which her girl’s heart beat at the voice of Hastings, the ideal of her +soul seemed found. And when, transplanted to the court, she learned to +judge of her native grace and loveliness by the common admiration they +excited, her hopes grew justified to her inexperienced reason. Often and +ever the words of Hastings, at the house of Lady Longueville, rang in +her ear, and thrilled through the solitude of night,--“Whoever is fair +and chaste, gentle and loving, is in the eyes of William de Hastings the +mate and equal of a king.” In visits that she had found opportunity to +make to the Lady Longueville, these hopes were duly fed; for the old +Lancastrian detested the Lady Bonville, as Lord Warwick’s sister, +and she would have reconciled her pride to view with complacency his +alliance with the alchemist’s daughter, if it led to his estrangement +from the memory of his first love; and, therefore, when her quick eye +penetrated the secret of Sibyll’s heart, and when she witnessed--for +Hastings often encountered (and seemed to seek the encounter) the young +maid at Lady Longueville’s house--the unconcealed admiration which +justified Sibyll in her high-placed affection, she scrupled not to +encourage the blushing girl by predictions in which she forced her own +better judgment to believe. Nor, when she learned Sibyll’s descent from +a family that had once ranked as high as that of Hastings, would she +allow that there was any disparity in the alliance she foretold. But +more, far more than Lady Longueville’s assurances, did the delicate +and unceasing gallantries of Hastings himself flatter the fond faith +of Sibyll. True, that he spoke not actually of love, but every look +implied, every whisper seemed to betray it. And to her he spoke as to an +equal, not in birth alone, but in mind; so superior was she in culture, +in natural gifts, and, above all, in that train of high thought and +elevated sentiment, in which genius ever finds a sympathy, to the +court-flutterers of her sex, that Hastings, whether or not he cherished +a warmer feeling, might well take pleasure in her converse, and feel +the lovely infant worthy the wise man’s trust. He spoke to her without +reserve of the Lady Bonville, and he spoke with bitterness. “I +loved her,” he said, “as woman is rarely loved. She deserted me for +another--rather should she have gone to the convent than the altar; and +now, forsooth, she deems she hath the right to taunt and to rate me, to +dictate to me the way I should walk, and to flaunt the honours I have +won.” + +“May that be no sign of a yet tender interest?” said Sibyll, timidly. + +The eyes of Hastings sparkled for a moment, but the gleam vanished. +“Nay, you know her not. Her heart is marble, as hard and as cold; +her very virtue but the absence of emotion,--I would say, of gentler +emotion; for, pardieu, such emotions as come from ire and pride and +scorn are the daily growth of that stern soil. Oh, happy was my escape! +Happy the desertion which my young folly deemed a curse! No!” he added, +with a sarcastic quiver of his lip--“no; what stings and galls the Lady +of Harrington and Bonville, what makes her countenance change in my +presence, and her voice sharpen at my accost, is plainly this: in +wedding her dull lord and rejecting me, Katherine Nevile deemed she +wedded power and rank and station; and now, while we are both young, +how proves her choice? The Lord of Harrington and Bonville is so noted a +dolt, that even the Neviles cannot help him to rise,--the meanest office +is above his mind’s level; and, dragged down by the heavy clay to which +her wings are yoked, Katherine, Lady of Harrington and Bonville--oh, +give her her due titles!--is but a pageant figure in the court. If the +war-trump blew, his very vassals would laugh at a Bonville’s banner, and +beneath the flag of poor William Hastings would gladly march the +best chivalry of the land. And this it is, I say, that galls her. For +evermore she is driven to compare the state she holds as the dame of +the accepted Bonville with that she lost as the wife of the disdained +Hastings.” + +And if, in the heat and passion that such words betrayed, Sibyll sighed +to think that something of the old remembrance yet swelled and burned, +they but impressed her more with the value of a heart in which the +characters once writ endured so long, and roused her to a tender +ambition to heal and to console. + +Then looking into her own deep soul, Sibyll beheld there a fund of such +generous, pure, and noble affection, such reverence as to the fame, such +love as to the man, that she proudly felt herself worthier of Hastings +than the haughty Katherine. She entered then, as it were, the lists with +this rival,--a memory rather, so she thought, than a corporeal being; +and her eye grew brighter, her step statelier, in the excitement of the +contest, the anticipation of the triumph. For what diamond without its +flaw? What rose without its canker? And bedded deep in that exquisite +and charming nature lay the dangerous and fatal weakness which has +cursed so many victims, broken so many hearts,--the vanity of the sex. +We may now readily conceive how little predisposed was Sibyll to the +blunt advances and displeasing warnings of the Lady Bonville, and the +more so from the time in which they chanced. For here comes the answer +to the question, “Why was Sibyll sad?” + +The reader may determine for himself what were the ruling motives of +Lord Hastings in the court he paid to Sibyll. Whether to pique the Lady +Bonville, and force upon her the jealous pain he restlessly sought +to inflict; whether, from the habit of his careless life, seeking the +pleasure of the moment, with little forethought of the future, and +reconciling itself to much cruelty, by that profound contempt for human +beings, man, and still more for woman, which sad experience often brings +to acute intellect; or whether, from the purer and holier complacency +with which one whose youth has fed upon nobler aspirations than manhood +cares to pursue, suns itself back to something of its earlier lustre +in the presence and the converse of a young bright soul,--whatever, +in brief, the earlier motives of gallantries to Sibyll, once begun, +constantly renewed, by degrees wilder and warmer and guiltier emotions +roused up in the universal and all-conquering lover the vice of his +softer nature. When calm and unimpassioned, his conscience had said +to him, “Thou shalt spare that flower.” But when once the passion was +roused within him, the purity of the flower was forgotten in the breath +of its voluptuous sweetness. + +And but three days before the scene we have described with Katherine, +Sibyll’s fabric of hope fell to the dust. For Hastings spoke for the +first time of love, for the first time knelt at her feet, for the +first time, clasping to his heart that virgin hand, poured forth the +protestation and the vow. And oh! woe--woe! for the first time she +learned how cheaply the great man held the poor maiden’s love, how +little he deemed that purity and genius and affection equalled the +possessor of fame and wealth and power; for plainly visible, boldly +shown and spoken, the love that she had foreseen as a glory from the +heaven sought but to humble her to the dust. + +The anguish of that moment was unspeakable,--and she spoke it not. But +as she broke from the profaning clasp, as escaping to the threshold she +cast on the unworthy wooer one look of such reproachful sorrow as told +at once all her love and all her horror, the first act in the eternal +tragedy of man’s wrong and woman’s grief was closed. And therefore was +Sibyll sad! + + + + +CHAPTER V. KATHERINE. + +For several days Hastings avoided Sibyll; in truth, he felt remorse for +his design, and in his various, active, and brilliant life he had not +the leisure for obstinate and systematic siege to a single virtue, nor +was he, perhaps, any longer capable of deep and enduring passion; his +heart, like that of many a chevalier in the earlier day, had lavished +itself upon one object, and sullenly, upon regrets and dreams, and vain +anger and idle scorn, it had exhausted those sentiments which make +the sum of true love. And so, like Petrarch, whom his taste and fancy +worshipped, and many another votary of the gentil Dieu, while his +imagination devoted itself to the chaste and distant ideal--the +spiritual Laura--his senses, ever vagrant and disengaged, settled +without scruple upon the thousand Cynthias of the minute. But then those +Cynthias were, for the most part, and especially of late years, easy and +light-won nymphs; their coyest were of another clay from the tender but +lofty Sibyll. And Hastings shrunk from the cold-blooded and deliberate +seduction of one so pure, while he could not reconcile his mind to +contemplate marriage with a girl who could give nothing to his ambition; +and yet it was not in this last reluctance only his ambition that +startled and recoiled. In that strange tyranny over his whole soul which +Katherine Bonville secretly exercised, he did not dare to place a new +barrier evermore between her and himself. The Lord Bonville was of +infirm health; he had been more than once near to death’s door; and +Hastings, in every succeeding fancy that beguiled his path, recalled the +thrill of his heart when it had whispered “Katherine, the loved of thy +youth, may yet be thine!” And then that Katherine rose before him, +not as she now swept the earth, with haughty step and frigid eye and +disdainful lip, but as--in all her bloom of maiden beauty, before the +temper was soured or the pride aroused--she had met him in the summer +twilight, by the trysting-tree, broken with him the golden ring of +faith, and wept upon his bosom. + +And yet, during his brief and self-inflicted absence from Sibyll, this +wayward and singular personage, who was never weak but to women, and +ever weak to them, felt that she had made herself far dearer to him than +he had at first supposed it possible. He missed that face, ever, +till the last interview, so confiding in the unconsciously betrayed +affection. He felt how superior in sweetness and yet in intellect Sibyll +was to Katherine; there was more in common between her mind and his in +all things, save one. But oh, that one exception!--what a world lies +within it,--the memory of the spring of life! In fact, though Hastings +knew it not, he was in love with two objects at once; the one, a +chimera, a fancy, an ideal, an Eidolon, under the name of Katherine; +the other, youth and freshness and mind and heart and a living shape of +beauty, under the name of Sibyll. Often does this double love happen to +men; but when it does, alas for the human object! for the shadowy and +the spiritual one is immortal,--until, indeed, it be possessed! + +It might be, perhaps, with a resolute desire to conquer the new love and +confirm the old that Hastings, one morning, repaired to the house of the +Lady Bonville, for her visit to the court had expired. It was a large +mansion, without the Lud Gate. + +He found the dame in a comely chamber, seated in the sole chair the room +contained, to which was attached a foot-board that served as a +dais, while around her, on low stools, sat some spinning, others +broidering--some ten or twelve young maidens of good family, sent to +receive their nurturing under the high-born Katherine, [And strange +as it may seem to modern notions, the highest lady who received such +pensioners accepted a befitting salary for their board and education.] +while two other and somewhat elder virgins sat a little apart, but close +under the eye of the lady, practising the courtly game of “prime:” for +the diversion of cards was in its zenith of fashion under Edward IV., +and even half a century later was considered one of the essential +accomplishments of a well-educated young lady. [So the Princess +Margaret, daughter of Henry VIL, at the age of fourteen, exhibits +her skill, in prime or trump, to her betrothed husband, James IV. +of Scotland; so, among the womanly arts of the unhappy Katherine of +Arragon, it is mentioned that she could play at “cards and dyce.” (See +Strutt: Games and Pastimes, Hones’ edition, p. 327.) The legislature +was very anxious to keep these games sacred to the aristocracy, and +very wroth with ‘prentices and the vulgar for imitating the ruinous +amusements of their betters.] The exceeding stiffness, the solemn +silence of this female circle, but little accorded with the mood of +the graceful visitor. The demoiselles stirred not at his entrance, and +Katherine quietly motioned him to a seat at some distance. + +“By your leave, fair lady,” said Hastings, “I rebel against so distant +an exile from such sweet company;” and he moved the tabouret close to +the formidable chair of the presiding chieftainess. + +Katherine smiled faintly, but not in displeasure. + +“So gay a presence,” she said, “must, I fear me, a little disturb these +learners.” + +Hastings glanced at the prim demureness written on each blooming visage, +and replied,-- + +“You wrong their ardour in such noble studies. I would wager that +nothing less than my entering your bower on horseback, with helm on +head and lance in rest, could provoke even a smile from one pair of +the twenty rosy lips round which, methinks, I behold Cupido hovering in +vain!” + +The baroness bent her stately brows, and the twenty rosy lips were all +tightly pursed up, to prevent the indecorous exhibition which the wicked +courtier had provoked. But it would not do: one and all the twenty lips +broke into a smile,--but a smile so tortured, constrained, and nipped in +the bud, that it only gave an expression of pain to the features it was +forbidden to enliven. + +“And what brings the Lord Hastings hither?” asked the baroness, in a +formal tone. + +“Can you never allow for motive the desire of pleasure, fair dame?” + +That peculiar and exquisite blush, which at moments changed the whole +physiognomy of Katherine, flitted across her smooth cheek, and vanished. +She said gravely,-- + +“So much do I allow it in you, my lord, that hence my question.” + +“Katherine!” exclaimed Hastings, in a voice of tender reproach, and +attempting to seize her hand, forgetful of all other presence save that +to which the blush, that spoke of old, gave back the ancient charm. + +Katherine cast a hurried and startled glance over the maiden group, +and her eye detected on the automaton faces one common expression of +surprise. Humbled and deeply displeased, she rose from the awful chair, +and then, as suddenly reseating herself, she said, with a voice and +lip of the most cutting irony, “My lord chamberlain is, it seems, so +habituated to lackey his king amidst the goldsmiths and grocers, that he +forgets the form of language and respect of bearing which a noblewoman +of repute is accustomed to consider seemly.” + +Hastings bit his lip, and his falcon eye shot indignant fire. + +“Pardon, my Lady of Bonville and Harrington, I did indeed forget what +reasons the dame of so wise and so renowned a lord hath to feel pride +in the titles she hath won. But I see that my visit hath chanced out of +season. My business, in truth, was rather with my lord, whose counsel in +peace is as famous as his truncheon in war!” + +“It is enough,” replied Katherine, with a dignity that rebuked the +taunt, “that Lord Bonville has the name of an honest man,--who never +rose at court.” + +“Woman, without one soft woman-feeling!” muttered Hastings, between his +ground teeth, as he approached the lady and made his profound obeisance. +The words were intended only for Katherine’s ear, and they reached it. +Her bosom swelled beneath the brocaded gorget, and when the door closed +on Hastings, she pressed her hands convulsively together, and her dark +eyes were raised upward. + +“My child, thou art entangling thy skein,” said the lady of Bonville, +as she passed one of the maidens, towards the casement, which she +opened,--“the air to-day weighs heavily!” + + + + +CHAPTER VI. JOY FOR ADAM, AND HOPE FOR SIBYLL--AND POPULAR FRIAR BUNGEY! + +Leaping on his palfrey, Hastings rode back to the Tower, dismounted at +the gate, passed on to the little postern in the inner court, and paused +not till he was in Warner’s room. “How now, friend Adam? Thou art idle.” + +“Lord Hastings, I am ill.” + +“And thy child not with thee?” + +“She is gone to her grace the duchess, to pray her to grant me leave to +go home, and waste no more life on making gold.” + +“Home! Go hence! We cannot hear it! The duchess must not grant it. I +will not suffer the king to lose so learned a philosopher.” + +“Then pray the king to let the philosopher achieve that which is in +the power of labour.” He pointed to the Eureka. “Let me be heard in the +king’s council, and prove to sufficing judges what this iron can do for +England.” + +“Is that all? So be it. I will speak to his highness forthwith. But +promise that thou wilt think no more of leaving the king’s palace.” + +“Oh, no, no! If I may enter again into mine own palace, mine own royalty +of craft and hope, the court or the dungeon all one to me!” + +“Father,” said Sibyll, entering, “be comforted. The duchess forbids +thy departure, but we will yet flee--” She stopped short as she saw +Hastings. He approached her timidly, and with so repentant, so earnest a +respect in his mien and gesture, that she had not the heart to draw back +the fair hand he lifted to his lips. + +“No, flee not, sweet donzell; leave not the desert court, without the +flower and the laurel, the beauty and the wisdom, that scent the hour, +and foretype eternity. I have conferred with thy father,--I will obtain +his prayer from the king. His mind shall be free to follow its own +impulse, and thou”--he whispered--“pardon--pardon an offence of too much +love. Never shall it wound again.” + +Her eyes, swimming with delicious tears, were fixed upon the floor. +Poor child! with so much love, how could she cherish anger? With so +much purity, how distrust herself? And while, at least, he spoke, the +dangerous lover was sincere. So from that hour peace was renewed between +Sibyll and Lord Hastings.--Fatal peace! alas for the girl who loves--and +has no mother! + +True to his word, the courtier braved the displeasure of the Duchess of +Bedford, in inducing the king to consider the expediency of permitting +Adam to relinquish alchemy, and repair his model. Edward summoned a +deputation from the London merchants and traders, before whom Adam +appeared and explained his device. But these practical men at first +ridiculed the notion as a madman’s fancy, and it required all the art of +Hastings to overcome their contempt, and appeal to the native acuteness +of the king. Edward, however, was only caught by Adam’s incidental +allusions to the application of his principle to ships. The +merchant-king suddenly roused himself to attention, when it was promised +to him that his galleys should cross the seas without sail, and against +wind and tide. + +“By Saint George!” said he, then, “let the honest man have his whim. +Mend thy model, and every saint in the calendar speed thee! Master +Heyford, tell thy comely wife that I and Hastings will sup with +her to-morrow, for her hippocras is a rare dainty. Good day to +you, worshipful my masters. Hastings, come hither; enough of these +trifles,--I must confer with thee on matters really pressing,--this +damnable marriage of gentle George’s!” + +And now Adam Warner was restored to his native element of thought; now +the crucible was at rest, and the Eureka began to rise from its ruins. +He knew not the hate that he had acquired in the permission he had +gained; for the London deputies, on their return home, talked of nothing +else for a whole week but the favour the king had shown to a strange +man, half-maniac, half-conjuror, who had undertaken to devise a +something which would throw all the artisans and journeymen out of work! +From merchant to mechanic travelled the news, and many an honest man +cursed the great scholar, as he looked at his young children, and wished +to have one good blow at the head that was hatching such devilish malice +against the poor! The name of Adam Warner became a byword of scorn and +horror. Nothing less than the deep ditch and strong walls of the Tower +could have saved him from the popular indignation; and these prejudices +were skilfully fed by the jealous enmity of his fellow-student, the +terrible Friar Bungey. This man, though in all matters of true learning +and science worthy the utmost contempt Adam could heap upon him, was by +no means of despicable abilities in the arts of imposing upon men. In +his youth he had been an itinerant mountebank, or, as it was called, +tregetour. He knew well all the curious tricks of juggling that then +amazed the vulgar, and, we fear, are lost to the craft of our modern +necromancers. He could clothe a wall with seeming vines, that vanished +as you approached; he could conjure up in his quiet cell the likeness +of a castle manned with soldiers, or a forest tenanted by deer. [See +Chaucer, House of Time, Book III.; also the account given by Baptista +Porta, of his own Magical Delusions, of which an extract may be seen in +the “Curiosities of Literature” Art., Dreams at the Dawn of Philosophy.] +Besides these illusions, probably produced by more powerful magic +lanterns than are now used, the friar had stumbled upon the wondrous +effects of animal magnetism, which was then unconsciously practised by +the alchemists and cultivators of white or sacred magic. He was an adept +in the craft of fortune-telling; and his intimate acquaintance with all +noted characters in the metropolis, their previous history and present +circumstances, enabled his natural shrewdness to hit the mark, at least +now and then, in his oracular predictions. He had taken, for safety and +for bread, the friar’s robes, and had long enjoyed the confidence of +the Duchess of Bedford, the traditional descendant of the serpent-witch, +Melusina. Moreover, and in this the friar especially valued himself, +Bungey had, in the course of his hardy, vagrant early life, studied, +as shepherds and mariners do now, the signs of the weather; and as +weather-glasses were then unknown, nothing could be more convenient +to the royal planners of a summer chase or a hawking company than the +neighbourhood of a skilful predictor of storm and sunshine. In fact, +there was no part in the lore of magic which the popular seers found so +useful and studied so much as that which enabled them to prognosticate +the humours of the sky, at a period when the lives of all men were +principally spent in the open air. + +The fame of Friar Bungey had travelled much farther than the repute of +Adam Warner: it was known in the distant provinces: and many a northern +peasant grew pale as he related to his gaping listeners the tales he had +heard of the Duchess Jacquetta’s dread magician. + +And yet, though the friar was an atrocious knave and a ludicrous +impostor, on the whole he was by no means unpopular, especially in +the metropolis, for he was naturally a jolly, social fellow; he often +ventured boldly forth into the different hostelries and reunions of the +populace, and enjoyed the admiration he there excited, and pocketed the +groats he there collected. He had no pride,--none in the least, this +Friar Bungey!--and was as affable as a magician could be to the +meanest mechanic who crossed his broad horn palm. A vulgar man is never +unpopular with the vulgar. Moreover, the friar, who was a very cunning +person, wished to keep well with the mob: he was fond of his own +impudent, cheating, burly carcass, and had the prudence to foresee that +a time might come when his royal patrons might forsake him, and a mob +might be a terrible monster to meet in his path; therefore he always +affected to love the poor, often told their fortunes gratis, now and +then gave them something to drink, and was esteemed a man exceedingly +good-natured, because he did not always have the devil at his back. + +Now Friar Bungey had naturally enough evinced from the first a great +distaste and jealousy of Adam Warner; but occasionally profiting by the +science of the latter, he suffered his resentment to sleep latent till +it was roused into fury by learning the express favour shown to Adam by +the king, and the marvellous results expected from his contrivance. His +envy, then, forbade all tolerance and mercy; the world was not large +enough to contain two such giants,--Bungey and Warner, the genius and +the quack. To the best of our experience, the quacks have the same creed +to our own day. He vowed deep vengeance upon his associate, and spared +no arts to foment the popular hatred against him. Friar Bungey would +have been a great critic in our day! + +But besides his jealousy, the fat friar had another motive for desiring +poor Adam’s destruction; he coveted his model! True, he despised the +model, he jeered the model, he abhorred the model; but, nevertheless, +for the model every string in his bowels fondly yearned. He believed +that if that model were once repaired, and in his possession, he could +do--what he knew not, but certainly all that was wanting to complete his +glory, and to bubble the public. + +Unconscious of all that was at work against him, Adam threw his whole +heart and soul into his labour; and happy in his happiness, Sibyll once +more smiled gratefully upon Hastings, from whom the rapture came. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. A LOVE SCENE. + +More than ever chafed against Katherine, Hastings surrendered himself +without reserve to the charm he found in the society of Sibyll. Her +confidence being again restored, again her mind showed itself to +advantage, and the more because her pride was further roused to assert +the equality with rank and gold which she took from nature and from God. + +It so often happens that the first love of woman is accompanied with +a bashful timidity, which overcomes the effort, while it increases the +desire, to shine, that the union of love and timidity has been called +inseparable, in the hackneyed language of every love-tale. But this is +no invariable rule, as Shakspeare has shown us in the artless Miranda, +in the eloquent Juliet, in the frank and healthful Rosalind;--and the +love of Sibyll was no common girl’s spring-fever of sighs and blushes. +It lay in the mind, the imagination, the intelligence, as well as in the +heart and fancy. It was a breeze that stirred from the modest leaves +of the rose all their diviner odour. It was impossible but what this +strong, fresh young nature--with its free gayety when happy, its earnest +pathos when sad, its various faculties of judgment and sentiment, and +covert play of innocent wit--should not contrast forcibly, in the mind +of a man who had the want to be amused and interested, with the cold +pride of Katherine, the dull atmosphere in which her stiff, unbending +virtue breathed unintellectual air, and still more with the dressed +puppets, with painted cheeks and barren talk, who filled up the common +world, under the name of women. + +His feelings for Sibyll, therefore, took a more grave and respectful +colour, and his attentions, if gallant ever, were those of a man wooing +one whom he would make his wife, and studying the qualities to which +he was disposed to intrust his happiness; and so pure was Sibyll’s +affection, that she could have been contented to have lived forever +thus,--have seen and heard him daily, have talked but the words of +friendship though with the thoughts of love; for some passions refine +themselves through the very fire of the imagination into which the +senses are absorbed, and by the ideal purification elevated up to +spirit. Rapt in the exquisite happiness she now enjoyed, Sibyll +perceived not, or, if perceiving, scarcely heeded; that the admirers, +who had before fluttered round her, gradually dropped off; that the +ladies of the court, the damsels who shared her light duties, grew +distant and silent at her approach; that strange looks were bent on +her; that sometimes when she and Hastings were seen together, the stern +frowned and the godly crossed themselves. + +The popular prejudices had reacted on the court. The wizard’s daughter +was held to share the gifts of her sire, and the fascination of beauty +was imputed to evil spells. Lord Hastings was regarded--especially by +all the ladies he had once courted and forsaken--as a man egregiously +bewitched! + +One day it chanced that Sibyll encountered Hastings in the walk that +girded the ramparts of the Tower. He was pacing musingly, with folded +arms, when he raised his eyes and beheld her. + +“And whither go you thus alone, fair mistress?” + +“The duchess bade me seek the queen, who is taking the air yonder. My +lady has received some tidings she would impart to her highness.” + +“I was thinking of thee, fair damsel, when thy face brightened on my +musings; and I was comparing thee to others who dwell in the world’s +high places, and marvelling at the whims of fortune.” + +Sibyll smiled faintly, and answered, “Provoke not too much the aspiring +folly of my nature. Content is better than ambition.” + +“Thou ownest thy ambition?” asked Hastings, curiously. + +“Ah, sir, who hath it not?” + +“But for thy sweet sex ambition has so narrow and cribbed a field.” + +“Not so; for it lives in others. I would say,” continued Sibyll, +colouring, fearful that she had betrayed herself, “for example, that +so long as my father toils for fame, I breathe in his hope, and am +ambitious for his honour.” + +“And so, if thou wert wedded to one worthy of thee, in his ambition thou +wouldst soar and dare?” + +“Perhaps,” answered Sibyll, coyly. + +“But if thou wert wedded to sorrow and poverty and troublous care, thine +ambition, thus struck dead, would of consequence strike dead thy love?” + +“Nay, noble lord, nay; canst thou so wrong womanhood in me unworthy? for +surely true ambition lives not only in the goods of fortune. Is there +no nobler ambition than that of the vanity? Is there no ambition of the +heart,--an ambition to console, to cheer the griefs of those who love +and trust us; an ambition to build a happiness out of the reach of +fate; an ambition to soothe some high soul, in its strife with a mean +world,--to lull to sleep its pain, to smile to serenity its cares? Oh, +methinks a woman’s true ambition would rise the bravest when, in the +very sight of death itself, the voice of him in whom her glory had dwelt +through life should say, ‘Thou fearest not to walk to the grave and to +heaven by my side!”’ + +Sweet and thrilling were the tones in which these words were said, lofty +and solemn the upward and tearful look with which they closed. + +And the answer struck home to the native and original heroism of the +listener’s nature, before debased into the cynic sourness of worldly +wisdom. Never had Katherine herself more forcibly recalled to Hastings +the pure and virgin glory of his youth. + +“Oh, Sibyll!” he exclaimed passionately, and yielding to the impulse of +the moment,--“oh, that for me, as to me, such high words were said! Oh, +that all the triumphs of a life men call prosperous were excelled by the +one triumph of waking such an ambition in such a heart!” + +Sibyll stood before him transformed,--pale, trembling, mute,--and +Hastings, clasping her hand and covering it with kisses, said,-- + +“Dare I arede thy silence? Sibyll, thou lovest me--O Sibyll, speak!” + +With a convulsive effort, the girl’s lips moved, then closed, then moved +again, into low and broken words. + +“Why this, why this? Thou hadst promised not to--not to--” + +“Not to insult thee by unworthy vows! Nor do I. But as my wife.” He +paused abruptly, alarmed at his own impetuous words, and scared by the +phantom of the world that rose like a bodily thing before the generous +impulse, and grinned in scorn of his folly. + +But Sibyll heard only that one holy word of WIFE, and so sudden and so +great was the transport it called forth, that her senses grew faint +and dizzy, and she would have fallen to the earth but for the arms that +circled her, and the breast upon which, now, the virgin might veil the +blush that did not speak of shame. + +With various feelings, both were a moment silent. But oh, that moment! +what centuries of bliss were crowded into it for the nobler and fairer +nature! + +At last, gently releasing herself, she put her hands before her eyes, as +if to convince herself she was awake, and then, turning her lovely face +full upon the wooer, Sibyll said ingenuously,-- + +“Oh, my lord--oh, Hastings! if thy calmer reason repent not these words, +if thou canst approve in me what thou didst admire in Elizabeth the +queen, if thou canst raise one who has no dower but her heart to the +state of thy wife and partner, by this hand, which I place fearlessly +in thine, I pledge thee to such a love as minstrel hath never sung. No!” + she continued, drawing loftily up her light stature,--“no, thou shalt +not find me unworthy of thy name,--mighty though it is, mightier though +it shall be. I have a mind that can share thine objects, I have pride +that can exult in thy power, courage to partake thy dangers, and +devotion--” she hesitated, with the most charming blush--“but of that, +sweet lord, thou shalt judge hereafter! This is my dowry,--it is all!” + +“And all I ask or covet,” said Hastings. But his cheek had lost its +first passionate glow. Lord of many a broad land and barony, victorious +captain in many a foughten field, wise statesman in many a thoughtful +stratagem, high in his king’s favour, and linked with a nation’s +history,--William de Hastings at that hour was as far below as earth is +to heaven the poor maiden whom he already repented to have so honoured, +and whose sublime answer woke no echo from his heart. + +Fortunately, as he deemed it, at that very instant he heard many steps +rapidly approaching, and his own name called aloud by the voice of the +king’s body-squire. + +“Hark! Edward summons me,” he said, with a feeling of reprieve. +“Farewell, dear Sibyll, farewell for a brief while,--we shall meet +anon.” + +At this time they were standing in that part of the rampart walk which +is now backed by the barracks of a modern soldiery, and before which, +on the other side of the moat, lay a space that had seemed solitary and +deserted; but as Hastings, in speaking his adieu, hurriedly pressed +his lips on Sibyll’s forehead, from a tavern without the fortress, and +opposite the spot on which they stood, suddenly sallied a disorderly +troop of half-drunken soldiers, with a gang of the wretched women that +always continue the classic associations of a false Venus with a brutal +Mars; and the last words of Hastings were scarcely spoken, before a loud +laugh startled both himself and Sibyll, and a shudder came over her when +she beheld the tinsel robes of the tymbesteres glittering in the sun, +and heard their leader sing, as she darted from the arms of a reeling +soldier,-- + + “Ha! death to the dove + Is the falcon’s love. + Oh, sharp is the kiss of the falcon’s beak!” + + + + +BOOK VII. THE POPULAR REBELLION. + + + + +CHAPTER I. THE WHITE LION OF MARCH SHAKES HIS MANE. + +“And what news?” asked Hastings, as he found himself amidst the king’s +squires; while yet was heard the laugh of the tymbesteres, and yet +gliding through the trees might be seen the retreating form of Sibyll. + +“My lord, the king needs you instantly. A courier has just arrived from +the North. The Lords St. John, Rivers, De Fulke, and Scales are already +with his highness.” + +“Where?” + +“In the great council chamber.” + +To that memorable room [it was from this room that Hastings was hurried +to execution, June 13, 1483] in the White Tower, in which the visitor, +on entrance, is first reminded of the name and fate of Hastings, strode +the unprophetic lord. + +He found Edward not reclining on cushions and carpets, not womanlike in +loose robes, not with his lazy smile upon his sleek beauty. The king had +doffed his gown, and stood erect in the tight tunic, which gave in full +perfection the splendid proportions of a frame unsurpassed in activity +and strength. Before him, on the long table, lay two or three open +letters, beside the dagger with which Edward had cut the silk that bound +them. Around him gravely sat Lord Rivers, Anthony Woodville, Lord St. +John, Raoul de Fulke, the young and valiant D’Eyncourt, and many other +of the principal lords. Hastings saw at once that something of pith and +moment had occurred; and by the fire in the king’s eye, the dilation of +his nostril, the cheerful and almost joyous pride of his mien and brow, +the experienced courtier read the signs of WAR. + +“Welcome, brave Hastings,” said Edward, in a voice wholly changed from +its wonted soft affectation,--loud, clear, and thrilling as it went +through the marrow and heart of all who heard its stirring and trumpet +accent,--“welcome now to the field as ever to the banquet! We have news +from the North that bids us brace on the burgonet and buckle-to the +brand,--a revolt that requires a king’s arm to quell. In Yorkshire +fifteen thousand men are in arms, under a leader they call Robin of +Redesdale,--the pretext, a thrave of corn demanded by the Hospital of +St. Leonard’s, the true design that of treason to our realm. At the same +time, we hear from our brother of Gloucester, now on the Border, that +the Scotch have lifted the Lancaster Rose. There is peril if these two +armies meet. No time to lose,--they are saddling our war-steeds; we +hasten to the van of our royal force. We shall have warm work, my lords. +But who is worthy of a throne that cannot guard it?” + +“This is sad tidings indeed, sire,” said Hastings, gravely. + +“Sad! Say it not, Hastings! War is the chase of kings! Sir Raoul de +Fulke, why lookest thou so brooding and sorrowful?” + +“Sire, I but thought that had Earl Warwick been in England, this--” + +“Ha!” interrupted Edward, haughtily and hastily, “and is Warwick the sun +of heaven that no cloud can darken where his face may shine? The +rebels shall need no foe, my realm no regent, while I, the heir of the +Plantagenets, have the sword for one, the sceptre for the other. We +depart this evening ere the sun be set.” + +“My liege,” said the Lord St. John, gravely, “on what forces do you +count to meet so formidable an array?” + +“All England, Lord of St. John!” + +“Alack! my liege, may you not deceive yourself! But in this crisis it is +right that your leal and trusty subjects should speak out, and plainly. +It seems that these insurgents clamour not against yourself, but against +the queen’s relations,--yes, my Lord Rivers, against you and your +House,--and I fear me that the hearts of England are with them here.” + +“It is true, sire,” put in Raoul de Fulke, boldly; “and if these--new +men are to head your armies, the warriors of Towton will stand +aloof,--Raoul de Fulke serves no Woodville’s banner. Frown not, Lord de +Scales! it is the griping avarice of you and yours that has brought this +evil on the king. For you the commons have been pillaged; for you the +daughters of peers have been forced into monstrous marriages, at war +with birth and with nature herself; for you, the princely Warwick, near +to the throne in blood, and front and pillar of our time-honoured order +of seigneur and of knight, has been thrust from our suzerain’s favour. +And if now ye are to march at the van of war,--you to be avengers of +the strife of which ye are the cause,--I say that the soldiers will lack +heart, and the provinces ye pass through will be the country of a foe!” + +“Vain man!” began Anthony Woodville, when Hastings laid his hand on his +arm, while Edward, amazed at this outburst from two of the supporters +on whom he principally counted, had the prudence to suppress his +resentment, and remained silent,--but with the aspect of one resolved to +command obedience, when he once deemed it right to interfere. + +“Hold, Sir Anthony!” said Hastings, who, the moment he found himself +with men, woke to all the manly spirit and profound wisdom that had +rendered his name illustrious--“hold, and let me have the word; my Lords +St. John and De Fulke, your charges are more against me than against +these gentlemen, for I am a new man,--a squire by birth, and proud to +derive mine honours from the same origin as all true nobility,--I mean +the grace of a noble liege and the happy fortune of a soldier’s sword. +It may be” (and here the artful favourite, the most beloved of the whole +court, inclined himself meekly)--“it may be that I have not borne those +honours so mildly as to disarm blame. In the war to be, let me atone. +My liege, hear your servant: give me no command,--let me be a simple +soldier, fighting by your side. My example who will not follow?--proud +to ride but as a man of arms along the track which the sword of his +sovereign shall cut through the ranks of battle! Not you, Lord de +Scales, redoubtable and invincible with lance and axe; let us new men +soothe envy by our deeds; and you, Lords St. John and De Fulke, you +shall teach us how your fathers led warriors who did not fight more +gallantly than we will. And when rebellion is at rest, when we meet +again in our suzerain’s hall, accuse us new men, if you can find us +faulty, and we will answer you as we best may.” + +This address, which could have come from no man with such effect as from +Hastings, touched all present. And though the Woodvilles, father and +son, saw in it much to gall their pride, and half believed it a snare +for their humiliation, they made no opposition. Raoul de Fulke, ever +generous as fiery, stretched forth his hand, and said,-- + +“Lord Hastings, you have spoken well. Be it as the king wills.” + +“My lords,” returned Edward, gayly, “my will is that ye be friends while +a foe is in the field. Hasten, then, I beseech you, one and all, to +raise your vassals, and join our standard at Fotheringay. I will find ye +posts that shall content the bravest.” + +The king made a sign to break up the conference, and dismissing even the +Woodvilles, was left alone with Hastings. + +“Thou hast served me at need, Will;” said the king. “But I shall +remember” (and his eye flashed a tiger’s fire) “the mouthing of those +mock-pieces of the lords at Runnymede. I am no John, to be bearded by +my vassals. Enough of them now. Think you Warwick can have abetted this +revolt?” + +“A revolt of peasants and yeomen! No, sire. If he did so, farewell +forever to the love the barons bear him.” + +“Um! and yet Montagu, whom I dismissed ten days since to the Borders, +hearing of disaffection, hath done nought to check it. But come what +may, his must be a bold lance that shivers against a king’s mail. And +now one kiss of my lady Bessee, one cup of the bright canary, and then +God and Saint George for the White Rose!” + + + + +CHAPTER II. THE CAMP AT OLNEY. + +It was some weeks after the citizens of London had seen their gallant +king, at the head of such forces as were collected in haste in the +metropolis, depart from their walls to the encounter of the rebels. +Surprising and disastrous had been the tidings in the interim. At first, +indeed, there were hopes that the insurrection had been put down by +Montagu, who had defeated the troops of Robin of Redesdale, near the +city of York, and was said to have beheaded their leader. But the spirit +of discontent was only fanned by an adverse wind. The popular hatred to +the Woodvilles was so great, that in proportion as Edward advanced to +the scene of action, the country rose in arms, as Raoul de Fulke had +predicted. Leaders of lordly birth now headed the rebellion; the sons +of the Lords Latimer and Fitzhugh (near kinsmen of the House of Nevile) +lent their names to the cause and Sir John Coniers, an experienced +soldier, whose claims had been disregarded by Edward, gave to the +insurgents the aid of a formidable capacity for war. In every mouth was +the story of the Duchess of Bedford’s witchcraft; and the waxen figure +of the earl did more to rouse the people than perhaps the earl himself +could have done in person. [See “Parliamentary Rolls,” vi. 232, for the +accusation of witchcraft, and the fabrication of a necromantic image +of Lord Warwick, circulated against the Duchess of Bedford. She +herself quotes and complains of them.] As yet, however, language of +the insurgents was tempered with all personal respect to the king; they +declared in their manifestoes that they desired only the banishment +of the Woodvilles and the recall of Warwick, whose name they used +unscrupulously, and whom they declared they were on their way to meet. +As soon as it was known that the kinsmen of the beloved earl were in the +revolt, and naturally supposed that the earl himself must countenance +the enterprise, the tumultuous camp swelled every hour, while knight +after knight, veteran after veteran, abandoned the royal standard. The +Lord d’Eyncourt (one of the few lords of the highest birth and greatest +following over whom the Neviles had no influence, and who bore the +Woodvilles no grudge) had, in his way to Lincolnshire,--where his +personal aid was necessary to rouse his vassals, infected by the common +sedition,--been attacked and wounded by a body of marauders, and thus +Edward’s camp lost one of its greatest leaders. Fierce dispute broke out +in the king’s councils; and when the witch Jacquetta’s practices against +the earl travelled from the hostile into the royal camp, Raoul de Fulke, +St. John, and others, seized with pious horror, positively declared +they would throw down their arms and retire to their castles, unless +the Woodvilles were dismissed from the camp and the Earl of Warwick was +recalled to England. To the first demand the king was constrained to +yield; with the second he temporized. He marched from Fotheringay to +Newark; but the signs of disaffection, though they could not dismay +him as a soldier, altered his plans as a captain of singular military +acuteness; he fell back on Nottingham, and despatched, with his own +hands, letters to Clarence, the Archbishop of York, and Warwick. To the +last he wrote touchingly. + +“We do not believe” (said the letter) “that ye should be of any such +disposition towards us as the rumour here runneth, considering the +trust and affection we bear you,--and cousin, we think ye shall be to us +welcome.” [Paston Letters, ccxcviii. (Knight’s edition), vol. ii. p. +59. See also Lingard, vol. iii. p. 522 (4to edition), note 43, for the +proper date to be assigned to Edward’s letter to Warwick, etc.] + +But ere these letters reached their destination, the crown seemed +well-nigh lost. At Edgecote the Earl of Pembroke was defeated and slain, +and five thousand royalists were left on the field. Earl Rivers and his +son, Sir John Woodville, [This Sir John Woodville was the most obnoxious +of the queen’s brothers, and infamous for the avarice which had led him +to marry the old Duchess of Norfolk, an act which according to the old +laws of chivalry would have disabled him from entering the lists of +knighthood, for the ancient code disqualified and degraded any knight +who should marry any old woman for her money! Lord Rivers was the more +odious to the people at the time of the insurrection because, in +his capacity of treasurer, he had lately tampered with the coin and +circulation.] who in obedience to the royal order had retired to the +earl’s country seat of Grafton, were taken prisoners, and beheaded by +the vengeance of the insurgents. The same lamentable fate befell +the Lord Stafford, on whom Edward relied as one of his most puissant +leaders; and London heard with dismay that the king, with but a handful +of troops, and those lukewarm and disaffected, was begirt on all sides +by hostile and marching thousands. + +From Nottingham, however, Edward made good his retreat to a village +called Olney, which chanced at that time to be partially fortified +with a wall and a strong gate. Here the rebels pursued him; and Edward, +hearing that Sir Anthony Woodville, who conceived that the fate of his +father and brother cancelled all motive for longer absence from +the contest, was busy in collecting a force in the neighbourhood of +Coventry, while other assistance might be daily expected from London, +strengthened the fortifications as well as the time would permit, and +awaited the assault of the insurgents. + +It was at this crisis, and while throughout all England reigned terror +and commotion, that one day, towards the end of July, a small troop of +horsemen were seen riding rapidly towards the neighbourhood of Olney. As +the village came in view of the cavalcade, with the spire of its church +and its gray stone gateway, so also they beheld, on the pastures that +stretched around wide and far, a moving forest of pikes and plumes. + +“Holy Mother!” said one of the foremost riders, “good the knight and +strong man though Edward be, it were sharp work to cut his way from +that hamlet through yonder fields! Brother, we were more welcome, had we +brought more bills and bows at our backs!” + +“Archbishop,” answered the stately personage thus addressed, “we bring +what alone raises armies and disbands them,--a NAME that a People +honours! From the moment the White Bear is seen on yonder archway side +by side with the king’s banner, that army will vanish as smoke before +the wind.” + +“Heaven grant it, Warwick!” said the Duke of Clarence; “for though +Edward hath used us sorely, it chafes me as Plantagenet and as prince to +see how peasants and varlets can hem round a king.” + +“Peasants and varlets are pawns in the chessboard, cousin George,” said +the prelate; “and knight and bishop find them mighty useful when pushing +forward to an attack. Now knight and bishop appear themselves and take +up the game. Warwick,” added the prelate, in a whisper, unheard by +Clarence, “forget not, while appeasing rebellion, that the king is in +your power.” + +“For shame, George! I think not now of the unkind king; I think only +of the brave boy I dandled on my knee, and whose sword I girded on at +Towton. How his lion heart must chafe, condemned to see a foe whom his +skill as captain tells him it were madness to confront!” + +“Ay, Richard Nevile, ay,” said the prelate, with a slight sneer, “play +the Paladin, and become the dupe; release the prince, and betray the +people!” + +“No! I can be true to both. Tush! brother, your craft is slight to the +plain wisdom of bold honesty. You slacken your steeds, sirs; on! on! see +the march of the rebels! On, for an Edward and a Warwick!” and, spurring +to full speed, the little company arrived at the gates. The loud bugle +of the new comers was answered by the cheerful note of the joyous +warder, while dark, slow, and solemn over the meadows crept on the +mighty crowd of the rebel army. + +“We have forestalled the insurgents!” said the earl, throwing himself +from his black steed. “Marmaduke Nevile, advance our banner; heralds, +announce the Duke of Clarence, the Archbishop of York, and the Earl of +Salisbury and Warwick.” + +Through the anxious town, along the crowded walls and housetops, into +the hall of an old mansion (that then adjoined the church), where the +king, in complete armour, stood at bay, with stubborn and disaffected +officers, rolled the thunder cry, “A Warwick! a Warwick! all saved! a +Warwick!” + +Sharply, as he heard the clamour, the king turned upon his startled +council. “Lords and captains!” said he, with that inexpressible majesty +which he could command in his happier hours, “God and our Patron Saint +have sent us at least one man who has the heart to fight fifty times the +odds of yon miscreant rabble, by his king’s side, and for the honour of +loyalty and knighthood!” + +“And who says, sire,” answered Raoul de Fulke, “that we, your lords and +captains, would not risk blood and life for our king and our knighthood +in a just cause? But we will not butcher our countrymen for echoing +our own complaint, and praying your Grace that a grasping and ambitious +family which you have raised to power may no longer degrade your nobles +and oppress your commons. We shall see if the Earl of Warwick blame us +or approve.” + +“And I answer,” said Edward, loftily, “that whether Warwick approve or +blame, come as friend or foe, I will sooner ride alone through yonder +archway, and carve out a soldier’s grave amongst the ranks of rebellious +war, than be the puppet of my subjects, and serve their will by +compulsion. Free am I--free ever will I be, while the crown of the +Plantagenet is mine, to raise those whom I love, to defy the threats of +those sworn to obey me. And were I but Earl of March, instead of king +of England, this hall should have swum with the blood of those who +have insulted the friends of my youth, the wife of my bosom. Off, +Hastings!--I need no mediator with my servants. Nor here, nor +anywhere in broad England, have I my equal, and the king forgives or +scorns--construe it as ye will, my lords--what the simple gentleman +would avenge.” + +It were in vain to describe the sensation that this speech produced. +There is ever something in courage and in will that awes numbers, though +brave themselves. And what with the unquestioned valour of Edward; what +with the effect of his splendid person, towering above all present by +the head, and moving lightly, with each impulse, through the mass of +a mail that few there could have borne unsinking, this assertion +of absolute power in the midst of mutiny--an army marching to the +gates--imposed an unwilling reverence and sullen silence mixed with +anger, that, while it chafed, admired. They who in peace had despised +the voluptuous monarch, feasting in his palace, and reclining on the lap +of harlot-beauty, felt that in war all Mars seemed living in his +person. Then, indeed, he was a king; and had the foe, now darkening the +landscape, been the noblest chivalry of France, not a man there but had +died for a smile from that haughty lip. But the barons were knit heart +in heart with the popular outbreak, and to put down the revolt seemed to +them but to raise the Woodvilles. The silence was still unbroken, save +where the persuasive whisper of Lord Hastings might be faintly heard in +remonstrance with the more powerful or the more stubborn of the chiefs, +when the tread of steps resounded without, and, unarmed, bareheaded, the +only form in Christendom grander and statelier than the king’s strode +into the hall. + +Edward, as yet unaware what course Warwick would pursue, and half +doubtful whether a revolt that had borrowed his name and was led by his +kinsmen might not originate in his consent, surrounded by those to whom +the earl was especially dear, and aware that if Warwick were against him +all was lost, still relaxed not the dignity of his mien; and leaning on +his large two-handed sword, with such inward resolves as brave kings +and gallant gentlemen form, if the worst should befall, he watched the +majestic strides of his great kinsman, and said, as the earl approached, +and the mutinous captains louted low,-- + +“Cousin, you are welcome! for truly do I know that when you have aught +whereof to complain, you take not the moment of danger and disaster. And +whatever has chanced to alienate your heart from me, the sound of the +rebel’s trumpet chases all difference, and marries your faith to mine.” + +“Oh, Edward, my king, why did you so misjudge me in the prosperous +hour!” said Warwick, simply, but with affecting earnestness: “since in +the adverse hour you arede me well?” + +As he spoke, he bowed his head, and, bending his knee, kissed the hand +held out to him. + +Edward’s face grew radiant, and, raising the earl, he glanced proudly at +the barons, who stood round, surprised and mute. + +“Yes, my lords and sirs, see,--it is not the Earl of Warwick, next to +our royal brethren the nearest subject to the throne, who would desert +me in the day of peril!” + +“Nor do we, sire,” retorted Raoul de Fulke; “you wrong us before our +mighty comrade if you so misthink us. We will fight for the king, but +not for the queen’s kindred; and this alone brings on us your anger.” + +“The gates shall be opened to ye. Go! Warwick and I are men enough for +the rabble yonder.” + +The earl’s quick eye and profound experience of his time saw at once +the dissension and its causes. Nor, however generous, was he willing +to forego the present occasion for permanently destroying an influence +which he knew hostile to himself and hurtful to the realm. His was not +the generosity of a boy, but of a statesman. Accordingly, as Raoul de +Fulke ceased, he took up the word. + +“My liege, we have yet an hour good ere the foe can reach the gates. +Your brother and mine accompany me. See, they enter! Please you, a few +minutes to confer with them; and suffer me, meanwhile, to reason with +these noble captains.” + +Edward paused; but before the open brow of the earl fled whatever +suspicion might have crossed the king’s mind. + +“Be it so, cousin; but remember this,--to councillors who can menace me +with desertion at such an hour, I concede nothing.” + +Turning hastily away, he met Clarence and the prelate midway in the +hall, threw his arm caressingly over his brother’s shoulder, and, taking +the archbishop by the hand, walked with them towards the battlements. + +“Well, my friends,” said Warwick, “and what would you of the king?” + +“The dismissal of all the Woodvilles, except the queen; the revocation +of the grants and land accorded to them, to the despoiling the ancient +noble; and, but for your presence, we had demanded your recall.” + +“And, failing these, what your resolve?” + +“To depart, and leave Edward to his fate. These granted, we doubt little +but that the insurgents will disband. These not granted, we but waste +our lives against a multitude whose cause we must approve.” + +“The cause! But ye know not the real cause,” answered Warwick. “I know +it; for the sons of the North are familiar to me, and their rising hath +deeper meaning than ye deem. What! have they not decoyed to their head +my kinsmen, the heirs of Latimer and Fitzhugh, and bold Coniers, whose +steel calque should have circled a wiser brain? Have they not taken my +name as their battle-cry? And do ye think this falsehood veils nothing +but the simple truth of just complaint?” + +“Was their rising, then,” asked St. John, in evident surprise, “wholly +unauthorized by you?” + +“So help me Heaven! if I would resort to arms to redress a wrong, think +not that I myself would be absent from the field! No, my lords, friends, +and captains, time presses; a few words must suffice to explain what as +yet may be dark to you. I have letters from Montagu and others, which +reached me the same day as the king’s, and which clear up the purpose +of our misguided countrymen. Ye know well that ever in England, but +especially since the reign of Edward III., strange, wild notions of some +kind of liberty other than that we enjoy have floated loose through the +land. Among the commons, a half-conscious recollection that the nobles +are a different race from themselves feeds a secret rancour and +mislike, which, at any fair occasion for riot, shows itself bitter and +ruthless,--as in the outbreak of Cade and others. And if the harvest +fail, or a tax gall, there are never wanting men to turn the popular +distress to the ends of private ambition or state design. Such a man has +been the true head and front of this commotion.” + +“Speak you of Robin of Redesdale, now dead?” asked one of the captains. + +“He is not dead. [The fate of Robin of Redesdale has been as obscure as +most of the incidents in this most perplexed part of English history. +While some of the chroniclers finish his career according to the report +mentioned in the text, Fabyan not only more charitably prolongs his +life, but rewards him with the king’s pardon; and according to the +annals of his ancient and distinguished family (who will pardon, we +trust, a license with one of their ancestry equally allowed by history +and romance), as referred to in Wotton’s “English Baronetage” (Art. +“Hilyard”), and which probably rests upon the authority of the life of +Richard III., in Stowe’s “Annals,” he is represented as still living in +the reign of that king. But the whole account of this famous demagogue +in Wotton is, it must be owned, full of historical mistakes.] Montagu +informs me that the report was false. He was defeated off York, and +retired for some days into the woods; but it is he who has enticed +the sons of Latimer and Fitzhugh into the revolt, and resigned his +own command to the martial cunning of Sir John Coniers. This Robin of +Redesdale is no common man. He hath had a clerkly education, he hath +travelled among the Free Towns of Italy, he hath deep purpose in all he +doth; and among his projects is the destruction of the nobles here, as +it was whilome effected in Florence, the depriving us of all offices and +posts, with other changes, wild to think of and long to name.” + +“And we would have suffered this man to triumph!” exclaimed De Fulke: +“we have been to blame.” + +“Under fair pretence he has gathered numbers, and now wields an army. I +have reason to know that, had he succeeded in estranging ye from Edward, +and had the king fallen, dead or alive, into his hands, his object would +have been to restore Henry of Windsor, but on conditions that would have +left king and baron little more than pageants in the state. I knew this +man years ago. I have watched him since; and, strange though it may seem +to you, he hath much in him that I admire as a subject and should fear +were I a king. Brief, thus runs my counsel: For our sake and the realm’s +safety, we must see this armed multitude disbanded; that done, we must +see the grievances they with truth complain of fairly redressed. Think +not, my lords, I avenge my own wrongs alone, when I go with you in your +resolve to banish from the king’s councils the baleful influence of the +queen’s kin. Till that be compassed, no peace for England. As a leprosy, +their avarice crawls over the nobler parts of the state, and devours +while it sullies. Leave this to me; and, though we will redress +ourselves, let us now assist our king!” + +With one voice the unruly officers clamoured their assent to all the +earl urged, and expressed their readiness to sally at once from the +gates, and attack the rebels. + +“But,” observed an old veteran, “what are we amongst so many? Here a +handful--there an army!” + +“Fear not, reverend sir,” answered Warwick, with an assured smile; “is +not this army in part gathered from my own province of Yorkshire? Is it +not formed of men who have eaten of my bread and drunk of my cup? Let +me see the man who will discharge one arrow at the walls which contain +Richard Nevile of Warwick. Now each to your posts,--I to the king.” + +Like the pouring of new blood into a decrepit body seemed the arrival, +at that feeble garrison, of the Earl of Warwick. From despair into the +certainty of triumph leaped every heart. Already at the sight of his +banner floating by the side of Edward’s, the gunner had repaired to his +bombard, the archer had taken up his bow; the village itself, before +disaffected, poured all its scanty population--women, and age, and +children--to the walls. And when the earl joined the king upon the +ramparts, he found that able general sanguine and elated, and pointing +out to Clarence the natural defences of the place. Meanwhile, the +rebels, no doubt apprised by their scouts of the new aid, had already +halted in their march, and the dark swarm might be seen indistinctly +undulating, as bees ere they settle, amidst the verdure of the plain. + +“Well, cousin,” said the king, “have ye brought these Hotspurs to their +allegiance?” + +“Sire, yes,” said Warwick, gravely; “but we have here no force to resist +yon army.” + +“Bring you not succours?” said the king, astonished. “You must have +passed through London. Have you left no troops upon the road?” + +“I had no time, sire; and London is well-nigh palsied with dismay. Had +I waited to collect troops, I might have found a king’s head blackening +over those gates.” + +“Well,” returned Edward, carelessly, “few or many, one gentleman is more +worth than a hundred varlets. ‘We are eno’ for glory,’ as Henry said at +Agincourt.” + +“No, sire; you are too skilful and too wise to believe your boast. These +men we cannot conquer,--we must disperse them.” + +“By what spell?” + +“By their king’s word to redress their complaints.” + +“And banish my queen?” + +“Heaven forbid that man should part those whom God has joined,” returned +Warwick. “Not my lady, your queen, but my lady’s kindred.” + +“Rivers is dead, and gallant John,” said Edward, sadly; “is not that +enough for revenge?” + +“It is not revenge that we require, but pledges for the land’s safety,” + answered Warwick. “And to be plain, without such a promise these walls +may be your tomb.” + +Edward walked apart, strongly debating within himself. In his character +were great contrasts: no man was more frank in common, no man more false +when it suited; no man had more levity in wanton love, or more firm +affection for those he once thoroughly took to his heart. He was the +reverse of grateful for service yielded, yet he was warm in protecting +those on whom service was conferred. He was resolved not to give up the +Woodvilles, and after a short self-commune, he equally determined not to +risk his crown and life by persevering in resistance to the demand for +their downfall. Inly obstinate, outwardly yielding, he concealed his +falsehood with his usual soldierly grace. + +“Warwick,” he said, returning to the earl’s side, “you cannot advise +me to what is misbeseeming, and therefore in this strait I resign my +conduct to your hands. I will not unsay to yon mutinous gentlemen what I +have already said; but what you judge it right to promise in my name +to them or to the insurgents, I will not suppose that mime honour will +refuse to concede. But go not hence, O noblest friend that ever stood +by a king’s throne!--go not hence till the grasp of your hand assures me +that all past unkindness is gone and buried; yea, and by this hand, +and while its pressure is warm in mine, bear not too hard on thy king’s +affection for his lady’s kindred.” + +“Sire,” said Warwick, though his generous nature well-nigh melted +into weakness, and it was with an effort that he adhered to his +purpose,--“sire, if dismissed for a while, they shall not be degraded. +And if it be, on consideration, wise to recall from the family +of Woodville your grants of lands and lordships, take from your +Warwick--who, rich in his king’s love, hath eno’ to spare--take the +double of what you would recall. Oh, be frank with me, be true, be +steadfast, Edward, and dispose of my lands, whenever you would content a +favourite.” + +“Not to impoverish thee, my Warwick,” answered Edward, smiling, “did I +call thee to my aid; for the rest, my revenues as Duke of York are at +least mine to bestow. Go now to the hostile camp,--go as sole minister +and captain-general of this realm; go with all powers and honours a king +can give; and when these districts are at peace, depart to our Welsh +provinces, as chief justiciary of that principality. Pembroke’s mournful +death leaves that high post in my gift. It cannot add to your greatness, +but it proves to England your sovereign’s trust.” + +“And while that trust is given,” said Warwick, with tears in his +eyes, “may Heaven strengthen my arm in battle, and sharpen my brain in +council! But I play the laggard. The sun wanes westward; it should not +go down while a hostile army menaces the son of Richard of York.” + +The earl rode rapidly away, reached the broad space where his followers +still stood, dismounted, but beside their steeds,-- + +“Trumpets advance, pursuivants and heralds go before! Marmaduke, mount! +The rest I need not. We ride to the insurgent camp.” + + + + +CHAPTER III. THE CAMP OF THE REBELS. + +The rebels had halted about a mile from the town, and were already +pitching their tents for the night. It was a tumultuous, clamorous, but +not altogether undisciplined array; for Coniers was a leader of singular +practice in reducing men into the machinery of war, and where his skill +might have failed, the prodigious influence and energy of Robin of +Redesdale ruled the passions and united the discordant elements. This +last was, indeed, in much worthy the respect in which Warwick held his +name. In times more ripe for him, he would have been a mighty demagogue +and a successful regenerator. His birth was known but to few; his +education and imperious temper made him vulgarly supposed of noble +origin; but had he descended from a king’s loins, Robert Hilyard had +still been the son of the Saxon people. Warwick overrated, perhaps, +Hilyard’s wisdom; for, despite his Italian experience, his ideas were +far from embracing any clear and definite system of democracy. He had +much of the frantic levelism and jacquerie of his age and land, and +could probably not have explained to himself all the changes he desired +to effect; but, coupled with his hatred to the nobles, his deep and +passionate sympathy with the poor, his heated and fanatical chimeras of +a republic, half-political and half-religious, he had, with no uncommon +inconsistency, linked the cause of a dethroned king. For as the +Covenanters linked with the Stuarts against the succeeding and more +tolerant dynasty, never relinquishing their own anti-monarchic theories; +as in our time, the extreme party on the popular side has leagued with +the extreme of the aristocratic, in order to crush the medium policy, +as a common foe,--so the bold leveller united with his zeal for Margaret +the very cause which the House of Lancaster might be supposed the least +to favour. He expected to obtain from a sovereign dependent upon a +popular reaction for restoration, great popular privileges. And as the +Church had deserted the Red Rose for the White, he sought to persuade +many of the Lollards, ever ready to show their discontent, that Margaret +(in revenge on the hierarchy) would extend the protection they had never +found in the previous sway of her husband and Henry V. Possessed of +extraordinary craft, and even cunning in secular intrigues, energetic, +versatile, bold, indefatigable, and, above all, marvellously gifted with +the arts that inflame, stir up, and guide the physical force of masses, +Robert Hilyard had been, indeed, the soul and life of the present +revolt; and his prudent moderation in resigning the nominal command to +those whose military skill and high birth raised a riot into the dignity +of rebellion, had given that consistency and method to the rising which +popular movements never attain without aristocratic aid. + +In the principal tent of the encampment the leaders of the insurrection +were assembled. + +There was Sir John Coniers, who had married one of the Neviles, the +daughter of Fauconberg, Lord High Admiral, but who had profited little +by this remote connection with Warwick; for, with all his merit, he was +a greedy, grasping man, and he had angered the hot earl in pressing +his claims too imperiously. This renowned knight was a tall, gaunt man, +whose iron frame sixty winters had not bowed. There were the young heirs +of Latimer and Fitzhugh, in gay gilded armour and scarlet mantelines; +and there, in a plain cuirass, trebly welded, and of immense weight, but +the lower limbs left free and unincumbered in thick leathern hose, stood +Robin of Redesdale. Other captains there were, whom different motives +had led to the common confederacy. There might be seen the secret +Lollard, hating either Rose, stern and sour, and acknowledging no leader +but Hilyard, whom he knew as a Lollard’s son; there might be seen the +ruined spendthrift, discontented with fortune, and regarding civil war +as the cast of a die,--death for the forfeiture, lordships for the gain; +there, the sturdy Saxon squire, oppressed by the little baron of his +province, and rather hopeful to abase a neighbour than dethrone a king +of whom he knew little, and for whom he cared still less; and there, +chiefly distinguished from the rest by grizzled beard, upturned +mustache, erect mien, and grave, not thoughtful aspect, were the men +of a former period,--the soldiers who had fought against the Maid of +Are,--now without place, station, or hope in peaceful times, already +half robbers by profession, and decoyed to any standard that promised +action, pay, or plunder. + +The conclave were in high and warm debate. + +“If this be true,” said Coniers, who stood at the head of the table, +his helmet, axe, truncheon, and a rough map of the walls of Olney before +him--“if this be true, if our scouts are not deceived, if the Earl +of Warwick is in the village, and if his banner float beside King +Edward’s,--I say, bluntly, as soldiers should speak, that I have been +deceived and juggled!” + +“And by whom, Sir Knight and cousin?” said the heir of Fitzhugh, +reddening. + +“By you, young kinsman, and this hot-mouthed dare-devil, Robin of +Redesdale! Ye assured me, both, that the earl approved the rising; that +he permitted the levying yon troops in his name; that he knew well the +time was come to declare against the Woodvilles, and that no sooner was +an army mustered than he would place himself at its bead; and I say, if +this be not true, you have brought these gray hairs into dishonour!” + +“And what, Sir John Coniers,” exclaimed Robin, rudely, “what honour had +your gray hairs till the steel cap covered them? What honour, I say, +under lewd Edward and his lusty revellers? You were thrown aside, like a +broken scythe, Sir John Coniers! You were forsaken in your rust! Warwick +himself, your wife’s great kinsman, could do nought in your favour! You +stand now, leader of thousands, lord of life and death, master of Edward +and the throne! We have done this for you, and you reproach us!” + +“And,” began the heir of Fitzhugh, encouraged by the boldness of +Hilyard, “we had all reason to believe my noble uncle, the Earl of +Warwick, approved our emprise. When this brave fellow (pointing to +Robin) came to inform me that, with his own eyes, he had seen the +waxen effigies of my great kinsman, the hellish misdeed of the queen’s +witch-dam, I repaired to my Lord Montagu; and though that prudent +courtier refused to declare openly, he let me see that war with the +Woodvilles was not unwelcome to him.” + +“Yet this same Montagu,” observed one of the ringleaders, “when Hilyard +was well-nigh at the gates of York, sallied out and defeated him, sans +ruth, sans ceremony.” + +“Yes, but he spared my life, and beheaded the dead body of poor Hugh +Withers in my stead: for John Nevile is cunning, and he picks his nuts +from the brennen without lesing his own paw. It was not the hour for him +to join us, so he beat us civilly, and with discretion. But what hath he +done since? He stands aloof while our army swells, while the bull of the +Neviles and the ragged staff of the earl are the ensigns of our war, and +while Edward gnaws out his fierce heart in yon walls of Olney. How say +ye, then, that Warwick, even if now in person with the king, is in heart +against us? Nay, he may have entered Olney but to capture the tyrant.” + +“If so,” said Coniers, “all is as it should be: but if Earl Warwick, +who, though he hath treated me ill, is a stour carle, and to be feared +if not loved, join the king, I break this wand, and ye will seek out +another captain.” + +“And a captain shall be found!” cried Robin. “Are we so poor in valour, +that when one man leaves us we are headless and undone? What if Warwick +so betray us and himself,--he brings no forces. And never, by God’s +blessing, should we separate till we have redressed the wrongs of our +countrymen!” + +“Good!” said the Saxon squire, winking, and looking wise,--“not till we +have burned to the ground the Baron of Bullstock’s castle!” + +“Not,” said a Lollard, sternly, “till we have shortened the purple gown +of the churchman; not till abbot and bishop have felt on their backs +the whip wherewith they have scourged the godly believer and the humble +saint.” + +“Not,” added Robin, “till we have assured bread to the poor man, and the +filling of the flesh-pot, and the law to the weak, and the scaffold to +the evil-doer.” + +“All this is mighty well,” said, bluntly, Sir Geoffrey Gates, the leader +of the mercenaries, a skilful soldier, but a predatory and lawless +bravo; “but who is to pay me and my tall fellows?” + +At this pertinent question, there was a general hush of displeasure and +disgust. + +“For, look you, my masters,” continued Sir Geoffrey, “as long as I and +my comrades here believed that the rich earl, who hath half England +for his provant, was at the head or the tail of this matter, we were +contented to wait a while; but devil a groat hath yet gone into my +gipsire; and as for pillage, what is a farm or a homestead? an’ it were +a church or a castle there might be pickings.” + +“There is much plate of silver, and a sack or so of marks and royals, +in the stronghold of the Baron of Bullstock,” quoth the Saxon squire, +doggedly hounding on to his revenge. + +“You see, my friends,” said Coniers, with a smile, and shrugging his +shoulders, “that men cannot gird a kingdom with ropes of sand. Suppose +we conquer and take captive--nay, or slay--King Edward, what then?” + +“The Duke of Clarence, male heir to the throne,” said the heir of +Latimer, “is Lord Warwick’s son-in-law, and therefore akin to you, Sir +John.” + +“That is true,” observed Coniers, musingly. + +“Not ill thought of, sir,” said Sir Geoffrey Gates; “and my advice is to +proclaim Clarence king and Warwick lord protector. We have some chance +of the angels then.” + +“Besides,” said the heir of Fitzhugh, “our purpose once made clear, it +will be hard either for Warwick or Clarence to go against us,--harder +still for the country not to believe them with us. Bold measures are our +wisest councillors.” + +“Um!” said the Lollard, “Lord Warwick is a good man, and has never, +though his brother be a bishop, abetted the Church tyrannies. But as for +George of Clarence--” + +“As for Clarence,” said Hilyard, who saw with dismay and alarm that +the rebellion he designed to turn at the fitting hour to the service of +Lancaster, might now only help to shift from one shoulder to the other +the hated dynasty of York--“as for Clarence, he hath Edward’s vices +without his manhood.” He paused, and seeing that the crisis had ripened +the hour for declaring himself, his bold temper pushed at once to its +object. “No!” he continued, folding his arms, raising his head, and +comprehending the whole council in his keen and steady gaze,--“no! lords +and gentlemen, since speak I must in this emergency, hear me calmly. +Nothing has prospered in England since we abandoned our lawful king. If +we rid ourselves of Edward, let it not be to sink from a harlot-monger +to a drunkard. In the Tower pines our true lord, already honoured as a +saint. Hear me, I say,--hear me out! On the frontiers an army that keeps +Gloucester at bay hath declared for Henry and Margaret. Let us, after +seizing Olney, march thither at once, and unite forces. Margaret is +already prepared to embark for England. I have friends in London who +will attack the Tower, and deliver Henry. To you, Sir John Coniers, in +the queen’s name, I promise an earldom and the garter; to you, the heirs +of Latimer and Fitzhugh, the high posts that beseem your birth; to +all of you, knights and captains, just share and allotment in the +confiscated lands of the Woodvilles and the Yorkists; to you, brethren,” + and addressing the Lollards, his voice softened into a meaning accent +that, compelled to worship in secret, they yet understood, “shelter from +your foes and mild laws; and to you, brave soldiers, that pay which +a king’s coffers alone can supply. Wherefore I say, down with all +subject-banners! up with the Red Rose and the Antelope, and long live +Henry the Sixth!” + +This address, however subtle in its adaptation to the various passions +of those assembled, however aided by the voice, spirit, and energy of +the speaker, took too much by surprise those present to produce at once +its effect. + +The Lollards remembered the fires lighted for their martyrs by the House +of Lancaster; and though blindly confident in Hilyard, were not yet +prepared to respond to his call. The young heir of Fitzhugh, who had, in +truth, but taken arms to avenge the supposed wrongs of Warwick, whom +he idolized, saw no object gained in the rise of Warwick’s enemy, Queen +Margaret. The mercenaries called to mind the woful state of Henry’s +exchequer in the former time. The Saxon squire muttered to himself, “And +what the devil is to become of the castle of Bullstock?” But Sir Henry +Nevile (Lord Latimer’s son), who belonged to that branch of his House +which had espoused the Lancaster cause, and who was in the secret +councils of Hilyard, caught up the cry, and said, “Hilyard doth not +exceed his powers; and he who strikes for the Red Rose shall carve out +his own lordship from the manors of every Yorkist that he slays.” Sir +John Coniers hesitated: poor, long neglected, ever enterprising and +ambitious, he was dazzled by the proffered bribe; but age is slow to +act, and he expressed himself with the measured caution of gray hairs. + +“A king’s name,” said he, “is a tower of strength, especially when +marching against a king; but this is a matter for general assent and +grave forethought.” + +Before any other (for ideas did not rush at once to words in those days) +found his tongue, a mighty uproar was heard without. It did not syllable +itself into distinct sound; it uttered no name; it was such a shout as +numbers alone could raise; and to such a shout would some martial leader +have rejoiced to charge to battle, so full of depth and fervour, and +enthusiasm and good heart, it seemed, leaping from rank to rank, from +breast to breast, from earth to heaven. With one accord the startled +captains made to the entrance of the tent, and there they saw, in the +broad space before them, inclosed by the tents which were grouped in a +wide semicircle,--for the mass of the hardy rebel army slept in the +open air, and the tents were but for leaders,--they saw, we say, in that +broad space, a multitude kneeling, and in the midst, upon his good steed +Saladin, bending graciously down, the martial countenance, the lofty +stature, of the Earl of Warwick. Those among the captains who knew him +not personally recognized him by the popular description,--by the black +war-horse, whose legendary fame had been hymned by every minstrel; by +the sensation his appearance had created; by the armourial insignia of +his heralds, grouped behind him, and whose gorgeous tabards blazed with +his cognizance and quarterings in azure, or, and argent. The sun was +slowly setting, and poured its rays upon the bare head of the mighty +noble, gathering round it in the hazy atmosphere like a halo. The homage +of the crowd to that single form, unarmed, and scarce attended, struck a +death-knell to the hopes of Hilyard,--struck awe into all his comrades! +The presence of that one man seemed to ravish from them, as by magic, +a vast army; power, and state, and command left them suddenly to be +absorbed in HIM! Captains, they were troopless,--the wielder of men’s +hearts was amongst them, and from his barb assumed reign, as from his +throne! + +“Gads my life!” said Coniers, turning to his comrades, “we have now, +with a truth, the earl amongst us; but unless he come to lead us on to +Olney, I would as lief see the king’s provost at my shoulder.” + +“The crowd separates, he rides this way!” said the heir of Fitzhugh. +“Shall we go forth to meet him?” + +“Not so!” exclaimed Hilyard, “we are still the leaders of this army; let +him find us deliberating on the siege of Olney!” + +“Right!” said Coniers; “and if there come dispute, let not the rabble +hear it.” + +The captains re-entered the tent, and in grave silence awaited the +earl’s coming; nor was this suspense long. Warwick, leaving the +multitude in the rear, and taking only one of the subaltern officers +in the rebel camp as his guide and usher, arrived at the tent, and was +admitted into the council. + +The captains, Hilyard alone excepted, bowed with great reverence as the +earl entered. + +“Welcome, puissant sir and illustrious kinsman!” said Coniers, who had +decided on the line to be adopted; “you are come at last to take the +command of the troops raised in your name, and into your hands I resign +this truncheon.” + +“I accept it, Sir John Coniers,” answered Warwick, taking the place of +dignity; “and since you thus constitute me your commander, I proceed at +once to my stern duties. How happens it, knights and gentlemen, that in +my absence ye have dared to make my name the pretext of rebellion? Speak +thou, my sister’s son!” + +“Cousin and lord,” said the heir of Fitzhugh, reddening but not abashed, +“we could not believe but what you would smile on those who have risen +to assert your wrongs and defend your life.” And he then briefly related +the tale of the Duchess of Bedford’s waxen effigies, and pointed to +Hilyard as the eye-witness. + +“And,” began Sir Henry Nevile, “you, meanwhile, were banished, +seemingly, from the king’s court; the dissensions between you and Edward +sufficiently the land’s talk, the king’s vices the land’s shame! + +“Nor did we act without at least revealing our intentions to my uncle +and your brother, the Lord Montagu,” added the heir of Fitzhugh. + +“Meanwhile,” said Robin of Redesdale, “the commons were oppressed, the +people discontented, the Woodvilles plundering, and the king wasting +our substance on concubines and minions. We have had cause eno’ for our +rising!” The earl listened to each speaker in stern silence. + +“For all this,” he said at last, “you have, without my leave or +sanction, levied armed men in my name, and would have made Richard +Nevile seem to Europe a traitor, without the courage to be a rebel! Your +lives are in my power, and those lives are forfeit to the laws.” + +“If we have incurred your disfavour from our over-zeal for you,” said +the son of Lord Fitzhugh, touchingly, “take our lives, for they are of +little worth.” And the young nobleman unbuckled his sword, and laid it +on the table. + +“But,” resumed Warwick, not seeming to heed his nephew’s humility, +“I, who have ever loved the people of England, and before king and +parliament have ever pleaded their cause,--I, as captain-general and +first officer of these realms, here declare, that whatever motives of +ambition or interest may have misled men of mark and birth, I believe +that the commons at least never rise in arms without some excuse for +their error. Speak out then, you, their leaders; and, putting aside all +that relates to me as the one man, say what are the grievances of which +the many would complain.” + +And now there was silence, for the knights and gentlemen knew little +of the complaints of the populace; the Lollards did not dare to expose +their oppressed faith, and the squires and franklins were too uneducated +to detail the grievances they had felt. But then the immense superiority +of the man of the people at once asserted itself; and Hilyard, whose +eye the earl had hitherto shunned, lifted his deep voice. With clear +precision, in indignant but not declamatory eloquence, he painted the +disorders of the time,--the insolent exactions of the hospitals and +abbeys, the lawless violence of each petty baron, the weakness of the +royal authority in restraining oppression, its terrible power in aiding +the oppressor. He accumulated instance on instance of misrule; he showed +the insecurity of property, the adulteration of the coin, the burden +of the imposts; he spoke of wives and maidens violated, of industry +defrauded, of houses forcibly entered, of barns and granaries despoiled, +of the impunity of all offenders, if high-born, of the punishment of all +complaints, if poor and lowly. “Tell us not,” he said, “that this is +the necessary evil of the times, the hard condition of mankind. It was +otherwise, Lord Warwick, when Edward first swayed; for you then made +yourself dear to the people by your justice. Still men talk, hereabouts, +of the golden rule of Earl Warwick; but since you have been, though +great in office, powerless in deed, absent in Calais, or idle at +Middleham, England hath been but the plaything of the Woodvilles, and +the king’s ears have been stuffed with flattery as with wool. And,” + continued Hilyard, warming with his subject, and, to the surprise of the +Lollards, entering boldly on their master-grievance--“and this is not +all. When Edward ascended the throne, there was, if not justice, at +least repose, for the persecuted believers who hold that God’s word +was given to man to read, study, and digest into godly deeds. I speak +plainly. I speak of that faith which your great father Salisbury and +many of the House of York were believed to favour,--that faith which is +called the Lollard, and the oppression of which, more than aught else, +lost to Lancaster the hearts of England. But of late, the Church, +assuming the power it ever grasps the most under the most licentious +kings (for the sinner prince hath ever the tyrant priest!), hath put +in vigour old laws for the wronging man’s thought and conscience; [The +Lollards had greatly contributed to seat Edward on the throne; and much +of the subsequent discontent, no doubt, arose from their disappointment, +when, as Sharon Turner well expresses it, “his indolence allied him to +the Church,” and he became “hereticorum severissimus hostis.”--CROYL., +p. 564.] and we sit at our doors under the shade, not of the vine-tree, +but the gibbet. For all these things we have drawn the sword; and if +now, you, taking advantage of the love borne to you by the sons of +England, push that sword back into the sheath, you, generous, great, +and princely though you be, well deserve the fate that I foresee and +can foretell. Yes!” cried the speaker, extending his arms, and gazing +fixedly on the proud face of the earl, which was not inexpressive of +emotion--“yes! I see you, having deserted the people, deserted by them +also in your need; I see you, the dupe of an ungrateful king, stripped +of power and honour, an exile and an outlaw; and when you call in vain +upon the people, in whose hearts you now reign, remember, O fallen star, +son of the morning! that in the hour of their might you struck down the +people’s right arm, and paralyzed their power. And now, if you will, +let your friends and England’s champions glut the scaffolds of your +woman-king!” + +He ceased. A murmur went round the conclave; every breast breathed hard, +every eye turned to Warwick. That mighty statesman mastered the effect +which the thrilling voice of the popular pleader produced on him; but +at that moment he had need of all his frank and honourable loyalty to +remind him that he was there but to fulfil a promise and discharge a +trust,--that he was the king’s delegate, not the king’s judge. + +“You have spoken, bold men,” said he, “as, in an hour when the rights of +princes are weighed in one scale, the subject’s sword in the other, I, +were I king, would wish free men to speak. And now you, Robert Hilyard, +and you, gentlemen, hear me, as envoy to King Edward IV. To all of you +I promise complete amnesty and entire pardon. His highness believes you +misled, not criminal, and your late deeds will not be remembered in your +future services. So much for the leaders. Now for the commons. My liege +the king is pleased to recall me to the high powers I once exercised, +and to increase rather than to lessen them. In his name, I pledge myself +to full and strict inquiry into all the grievances Robin of Redesdale +hath set forth, with a view to speedy and complete redress. Nor is this +all. His highness, laying aside his purpose of war with France, will +have less need of impost on his subjects, and the burdens and taxes will +be reduced. Lastly, his grace, ever anxious to content his people, hath +most benignly empowered me to promise that, whether or not ye rightly +judge the queen’s kindred, they will no longer have part or weight +in the king’s councils. The Duchess of Bedford, as beseems a lady so +sorrowfully widowed, will retire to her own home; and the Lord Scales +will fulfil a mission to the court of Spain. Thus, then, assenting +to all reasonable demands, promising to heal all true grievances, +proffering you gracious pardon, I discharge my duty to king and to +people. I pray that these unhappy sores may be healed evermore, under +the blessing of God and our patron saint; and in the name of Edward IV., +Lord Suzerain of England and of France, I break up this truncheon and +disband this army!” + +Among those present, this moderate and wise address produced a general +sensation of relief; for the earl’s disavowal of the revolt took away +all hope of its success. But the common approbation was not shared by +Hilyard. He sprang upon the table, and, seizing the broken fragments of +the truncheon, which the earl had snapped as a willow twig, exclaimed, +“And thus, in the name of the people, I seize the command that ye +unworthily resign! Oh, yes, what fools were yonder drudges of the hard +hand and the grimed brow and the leathern jerkin, to expect succour from +knight and noble!” + +So saying, he bounded from the tent, and rushed towards the multitude at +the distance. + +“Ye knights and lords, men of blood and birth, were but the tools of a +manlier and wiser Cade!” said Warwick, calmly. “Follow me.” + +The earl strode from the tent, sprang upon his steed, and was in the +midst of the troops with his heralds by his side, ere Hilyard had +been enabled to begin the harangue he had intended. Warwick’s trumpets +sounded to silence; and the earl himself, in his loud clear voice, +briefly addressed the immense audience. Master, scarcely less than +Hilyard, of the popular kind of eloquence, which--short, plain, +generous, and simple--cuts its way at once through the feelings to the +policy, Warwick briefly but forcibly recapitulated to the commons the +promises he had made to the captains; and as soon as they heard of taxes +removed, the coinage reformed, the corn thrave abolished, the Woodvilles +dismissed, and the earl recalled to power, the rebellion was at an end. +They answered with a joyous shout his order to disperse and retire to +their homes forthwith. But the indomitable Hilyard, ascending a small +eminence, began his counter-agitation. The earl saw his robust form and +waving hand, he saw the crowd sway towards him; and too well acquainted +with mankind to suffer his address, he spurred to the spot, and turning +to Marmaduke, said, in a loud voice, “Marmaduke Nevile, arrest that man +in the king’s name!” + +Marmaduke sprang from his steed, and laid his hand on Hilyard’s +shoulder. Not one of the multitude stirred on behalf of their demagogue. +As before the sun recede the stars, all lesser lights had died in +the blaze of Warwick’s beloved name. Hilyard griped his dagger, and +struggled an instant; but when he saw the awe and apathy of the armed +mob, a withering expression of disdain passed over his hardy face. + +“Do ye suffer this?” he said. “Do ye suffer me, who have placed swords +in your hands, to go forth in bonds, and to the death?” + +“The stout earl wrongs no man,” said a single voice, and the populace +echoed the word. + +“Sir, then, I care not for life, since liberty is gone. I yield myself +your prisoner.” + +“A horse for my captive!” said Warwick, laughing; “and hear me promise +you, that he shall go unscathed in goods and in limbs. God wot, when +Warwick and the people meet, no victim should be sacrificed! Hurrah for +King Edward and fair England!” + +He waved his plumed cap as he spoke, and within the walls of Olney was +heard the shout that answered. + +Slowly the earl and his scanty troop turned the rein; as he receded, +the multitude broke up rapidly, and when the moon rose, that camp was a +solitude. [The dispersion of the rebels at Olney is forcibly narrated by +a few sentences, graphic from their brief simplicity, in the “Pictorial +History of England,” Book V, p. 104. “They (Warwick, etc.) repaired in a +very friendly manner to Olney, where they found Edward in a most unhappy +condition; his friends were dead or scattered, flying for their lives, +or hiding themselves in remote places: the insurgents were almost +upon him. A word from Warwick sent the insurgents quietly back to the +North.”] + +Such--for our nature is ever grander in the individual than the +mass--such is the power of man above mankind! + + + + +CHAPTER IV. THE NORMAN EARL AND THE SAXON DEMAGOGUE CONFER. + +On leaving the camp, Warwick rode in advance of his train, and his +countenance was serious and full of thought. At length, as a turn in the +road hid the little band from the view of the rebels, the earl motioned +to Marmaduke to advance with his prisoner. The young Nevile then fell +back, and Robin and Warwick rode breast to breast out of hearing of the +rest. + +“Master Hilyard, I am well content that my brother, when you fell into +his hands, spared your life out of gratitude for the favour you once +showed to mine.” + +“Your noble brother, my lord,” answered Robin, dryly, “is, perhaps, not +aware of the service I once rendered you. Methinks he spared me rather, +because, without me, an enterprise which has shaken the Woodvilles from +their roots around the throne, and given back England to the Neviles, +had been nipped in the bud!--Your brother is a deep thinker!” + +“I grieve to hear thee speak thus of the Lord Montagu. I know that he +hath wilier devices than become, in my eyes, a well-born knight and a +sincere man; but he loves his king, and his ends are juster than his +means. Master Hilyard, enough of the past evil. Some months after the +field of Hexham, I chanced to fall, when alone, amongst a band of roving +and fierce Lancastrian outlaws. Thou, their leader, recognizing the +crest on my helm, and mindful of some slight indulgence once shown to +thy strange notions of republican liberty, didst save me from the swords +of thy followers: from that time I have sought in vain to mend thy +fortunes. Thou hast rejected all mine offers, and I know well that thou +hast lent thy service to the fatal cause of Lancaster. Many a time +I might have given thee to the law; but gratitude for thy aid in the +needful strait, and to speak sooth, my disdain of all individual efforts +to restore a fallen House, made me turn my eyes from transgressions +which, once made known to the king, had placed thee beyond pardon. I +see now that thou art a man of head and arm to bring great danger upon +nations; and though this time Warwick bids thee escape and live, if once +more thou offend, know me only as the king’s minister. The debt between +us is now cancelled. Yonder lies the path that conducts to the forest. +Farewell. Yet stay!--poverty may have led thee into treason?” + +“Poverty,” interrupted Hilyard,--“poverty, Lord Warwick, leads men to +sympathize with the poor, and therefore I have done with riches.” He +paused, and his breast heaved. “Yet,” he added sadly, “now that I have +seen the cowardice and ingratitude of men, my calling seems over, and my +spirit crushed.” + +“Alas!” said Warwick, “whether man be rich or poor, ingratitude is the +vice of men; and you, who have felt it from the mob, menace me with it +from the king. But each must carve out his own way through this earth, +without over care for applause or blame; and the tomb is the sole judge +of mortal memory.” + +Robin looked hard at the earl’s face, which was dark and gloomy, as he +thus spoke, and approaching nearer, he said, “Lord Warwick, I take +from you liberty and life the more willingly, because a voice I cannot +mistake tells me, and hath long told, that, sooner or later, time will +bind us to each other. Unlike other nobles, you have owed your power not +so much to lordship, land, and birth, and a king’s smile, as to the love +you have nobly won; you alone, true knight and princely Christian,--you +alone, in war, have spared the humble; you alone, stalwart and +resistless champion, have directed your lance against your equals, and +your order hath gone forth to the fierce of heart, ‘Never smite the +commons!’ In peace, you alone have stood up in your haughty parliament +for just law or for gentle mercy; your castle hath had a board for the +hungry and a shelter for the houseless; your pride, which hath bearded +kings and humbled upstarts, hath never had a taunt for the lowly; and +therefore I--son of the people--in the people’s name, bless you living, +and sigh to ask whether a people’s gratitude will mourn you dead! +Beware Edward’s false smile, beware Clarence’s fickle faith, beware +Gloucester’s inscrutable wile! Mark, the sun sets!--and while we speak, +yon dark cloud gathers over your plumed head.” + +He pointed to the heavens as he ceased, and a low roll of gathering +thunder seemed to answer his ominous warning. Without tarrying for the +earl’s answer, Hilyard shook the reins of his steed, and disappeared in +the winding of the lane through which he took his way. + + + + +CHAPTER V. WHAT FAITH EDWARD IV. PURPOSETH TO KEEP WITH EARL AND PEOPLE. + +Edward received his triumphant envoy with open arms and profuse +expressions of gratitude. He exerted himself to the utmost in the +banquet that crowned the day, not only to conciliate the illustrious new +comers, but to remove from the minds of Raoul de Fulke and his officers +all memory of their past disaffection. No gift is rarer or more +successful in the intrigues of life than that which Edward eminently +possessed,--namely, the hypocrisy of frankness. Dissimulation is often +humble, often polished, often grave, sleek, smooth, decorous; but it +is rarely gay and jovial, a hearty laughter, a merry, cordial, boon +companion. Such, however, was the felicitous craft of Edward IV.; and, +indeed, his spirits were naturally so high, his good humour so flowing, +that this joyous hypocrisy cost him no effort. Elated at the dispersion +of his foes, at the prospect of his return to his ordinary life of +pleasure, there was something so kindly and so winning in his mirth, +that he subjugated entirely the fiery temper of Raoul de Fulke and the +steadier suspicions of the more thoughtful St. John. Clarence, wholly +reconciled to Edward, gazed on him with eyes swimming with affection, +and soon drank himself into uproarious joviality. The archbishop, more +reserved, still animated the society by the dry and epigrammatic wit not +uncommon to his learned and subtle mind. But Warwick in vain endeavoured +to shake off an uneasy, ominous gloom. He was not satisfied with +Edward’s avoidance of discussion upon the grave matters involved in the +earl’s promise to the insurgents, and his masculine spirit regarded with +some disdain, and more suspicion, a levity that he considered ill-suited +to the emergence. + +The banquet was over, and Edward, having dismissed his other attendants, +was in his chamber with Lord Hastings, whose office always admitted him +to the wardrobe of the king. + +Edward’s smile had now left his lip; he paced the room with a hasty +stride, and then suddenly opening the casement, pointed to the landscape +without, which lay calm and suffused in moonlight. + +“Hastings,” said he, abruptly, “a few hours since and the earth grew +spears! Behold the landscape now!” + +“So vanish all the king’s enemies!” + +“Ay, man, ay,--if at the king’s word, or before the king’s battle-axe; +but at a subject’s command--No, I am not a king while another scatters +armies in my realm at his bare will. ‘Fore Heaven, this shall not last!” + +Hastings regarded the countenance of Edward, changed from affable beauty +into terrible fierceness, with reflections suggested by his profound and +mournful wisdom. “How little a man’s virtues profit him in the eyes of +men!” thought he. “The subject saves the crown, and the crown’s wearer +never pardons the presumption!” + +“You do not speak, sir!” exclaimed Edward, irritated and impatient. “Why +gaze you thus on me?” + +“Beau sire,” returned the favourite, calmly, “I was seeking to discover +if your pride spoke, or your nobler nature.” + +“Tush!” said the king, petulantly, “the noblest part of a king’s nature +is his pride as king!” Again he strode the chamber, and again halted. +“But the earl hath fallen into his own snare,--he hath promised in my +name what I will not perform. Let the people learn that their idol hath +deceived them. He asks me to dismiss from the court the queen’s mother +and kindred!” + +Hastings, who in this went thoroughly with the earl and the popular +feeling, and whose only enemies in England were the Woodvilles, replied +simply,-- + +“These are cheap terms, sire, for a king’s life and the crown of +England.” + +Edward started, and his eyes flashed that cold, cruel fire, which makes +eyes of a light colouring so far more expressive of terrible passions +than the quicker and warmer heat of dark orbs. “Think you so, sir? By +God’s blood, he who proffered them shall repent it in every vein of his +body! Hark ye, William Hastings de Hastings, I know you to be a deep +and ambitious man; but better for you had you covered that learned +brain under the cowl of a mendicant friar than lent one thought to the +counsels of the Earl of Warwick.” + +Hastings, who felt even to fondness the affection which Edward generally +inspired in those about his person, and who, far from sympathizing, +except in hate of the Woodvilles, with the earl, saw that beneath +that mighty tree no new plants could push into their fullest foliage, +reddened with anger at this imperious menace. + +“My liege,” said he, with becoming dignity and spirit, “if you can thus +address your most tried confidant and your lealest friend, your most +dangerous enemy is yourself.” + +“Stay, man,” said the king, softening. “I was over warm, but the wild +beast within me is chafed. Would Gloucester were here!” + +“I can tell you what would be the counsels of that wise young prince, +for I know his mind,” answered Hastings. + +“Ay, he and you love each other well. Speak out.” + +“Prince Richard is a great reader of Italian lere. He saith that those +small States are treasuries of all experience. From that lere Prince +Richard would say to you, ‘Where a subject is so great as to be feared, +and too much beloved to be destroyed, the king must remember how Tarpeia +was crushed.” + +“I remember naught of Tarpeia, and I detest parables.” + +“Tarpeia, sire (it is a story of old Rome), was crushed under the +weight of presents. Oh, my liege,” continued Hastings, warming with that +interest which an able man feels in his own superior art, “were I king +for a year, by the end of it Warwick should be the most unpopular (and +therefore the weakest) lord in England!” + +“And how, O wise in thine own conceit?” + +“Beau sire,” resumed Hastings, not heeding the rebuke--and strangely +enough he proceeded to point out, as the means of destroying the earl’s +influence, the very method that the archbishop had detailed to Montagu +as that which would make the influence irresistible and permanent--“Beau +sire,” resumed Hastings, “Lord Warwick is beloved by the people, because +they consider him maltreated; he is esteemed by the people, because they +consider him above all bribe; he is venerated by the people, because +they believe that in all their complaints and struggles he is +independent (he alone) of the king. Instead of love, I would raise envy; +for instead of cold countenance I would heap him with grace. Instead of +esteem and veneration I would raise suspicion; for I would so knit him +to your House, that he could not stir hand or foot against you; I would +make his heirs your brothers. The Duke of Clarence hath married one +daughter,--wed the other to Lord Richard. Betroth your young princess to +Montagu’s son, the representative of all the Neviles. The earl’s immense +possessions must thus ultimately pass to your own kindred. The earl +himself will be no longer a power apart from the throne, but a part of +it. The barons will chafe against one who half ceases to be of their +order, and yet monopolizes their dignities; the people will no longer +see in the earl their champion, but a king’s favourite and deputy. +Neither barons nor people will flock to his banner.” + +“All this is well and wise,” said Edward, musing; “but meanwhile my +queen’s blood? Am I to reign in a solitude?--for look you, Hastings, +you know well that, uxorious as fools have deemed me, I had purpose +and design in the elevation of new families; I wished to raise a fresh +nobility to counteract the pride of the old, and only upon new nobles +can a new dynasty rely.” + +“My Lord, I will not anger you again; but still, for a while, the +queen’s relations will do well to retire.” + +“Good night, Hastings,” interrupted Edward, abruptly, “my pillow in this +shall be my counsellor.” + +Whatever the purpose solitude and reflection might ripen in the king’s +mind, he was saved from immediate decision by news, the next morning, of +fresh outbreaks. The commons had risen in Lincolnshire and the county +of Warwick; and Anthony Woodville wrote word that, if the king would +but show himself among the forces he had raised near Coventry, all +the gentry around would rise against the rebellious rabble. Seizing +advantage of these tidings, borne to him by his own couriers, and +eager to escape from the uncertain soldiery quartered at Olney, Edward, +without waiting to consult even with the earl, sprang to horse, and his +trumpets were the first signal of departure that he deigned to any one. + +This want of ceremony displeased the pride of Warwick; but he made +no complaint, and took his place by the king’s side, when Edward said +shortly,-- + +“Dear cousin, this is a time that needs all our energies. I ride towards +Coventry, to give head and heart to the raw recruits I shall find there; +but I pray you and the archbishop to use all means, in this immediate +district, to raise fresh troops; for at your name armed men spring up +from pasture and glebe, dyke and hedge. Join what troops you can collect +in three days with mine at Coventry, and, ere the sickle is in the +harvest, England shall be at peace. God speed you! Ho! there, gentlemen, +away!--a franc etrier!” + +Without pausing for reply,--for he wished to avoid all questioning, +lest Warwick might discover that it was to a Woodville that he was +bound,--the king put spurs to his horse, and, while his men were yet +hurrying to and fro, rode on almost alone, and was a good mile out +of the town before the force led by St. John and Raoul de Fulke, and +followed by Hastings, who held no command, overtook him. + +“I misthink the king,” said Warwick, gloomily; “but my word is pledged +to the people, and it shall be kept.” + +“A man’s word is best kept when his arm is the strongest,” said the +sententious archbishop; “yesterday, you dispersed an army; to-day, raise +one!” + +Warwick answered not, but, after a moment’s thought, beckoned to +Marmaduke. + +“Kinsman,” said he, “spur on, with ten of my little company, to join +the king. Report to me if any of the Woodvilles be in his camp near +Coventry.” + +“Whither shall I send the report?” + +“To my castle of Warwick.” + +Marmaduke bowed his head, and, accustomed to the brevity of the earl’s +speech, proceeded to the task enjoined him. Warwick next summoned his +second squire. + +“My lady and her children,” said he, “are on their way to Middleham. +This paper will instruct you of their progress. Join them with all the +rest of my troop, except my heralds and trumpeters; and say that I shall +meet them ere long at Middleham.” + +“It is a strange way to raise an army,” said the archbishop, dryly, “to +begin by getting rid of all the force one possesses!” + +“Brother,” answered the earl, “I would fain show my son-in-law, who may +be the father of a line of kings, that a general may be helpless at the +head of thousands, but that a man may stand alone who has the love of a +nation.” + +“May Clarence profit by the lesson! Where is he all this while?” + +“Abed,” said the stout earl, with a slight accent of disdain; and then, +in a softer voice, he added, “youth is ever luxurious. Better the slow +man than the false one.” + +Leaving Warwick to discharge the duty enjoined him, we follow the +dissimulating king. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. WHAT BEFALLS KING EDWARD ON HIS ESCAPE FROM OLNEY. + +As soon as Edward was out of sight of the spire of Olney, he slackened +his speed, and beckoned Hastings to his side. + +“Dear Will,” said the king, “I have thought over thy counsel, and will +find the occasion to make experiment thereof. But, methinks, thou wilt +agree with me that concessions come best from a king who has an army of +his own. ‘Fore Heaven, in the camp of a Warwick I have less power than a +lieutenant! Now mark me. I go to head some recruits raised in haste near +Coventry. The scene of contest must be in the northern counties. Wilt +thou, for love of me, ride night and day, thorough brake, thorough +briar, to Gloucester on the Borders? Bid him march, if the Scot will let +him, back to York; and if he cannot himself quit the Borders, let +him send what men can be spared under thy banner. Failing this, raise +through Yorkshire all the men-at-arms thou canst collect. But, above +all, see Montagu. Him and his army secure at all hazards. If he demur, +tell him his son shall marry his king’s daughter, and wear the coronal +of a duke. Ha, ha! a large bait for so large a fish! I see this is no +casual outbreak, but a general convulsion of the realm; and the Earl +of Warwick must not be the only man to smile or to frown back the angry +elements.” + +“In this, beau sire,” answered Hastings, “you speak as a king and +a warrior should, and I will do my best to assert your royal +motto,--‘Modus et ordo.’ If I can but promise that your Highness has for +a while dismissed the Woodville lords, rely upon it that ere two months +I will place under your truncheon an army worthy of the liege lord of +hardy England.” + +“Go, dear Hastings, I trust all to thee!” answered the king. The +nobleman kissed his sovereign’s extended hand, closed his visor, and, +motioning to his body-squire to follow him, disappeared down a green +lane, avoiding such broader thoroughfares as might bring him in contact +with the officers left at Olney. + +In a small village near Coventry Sir Anthony Woodville had collected +about two thousand men, chiefly composed of the tenants and vassals of +the new nobility, who regarded the brilliant Anthony as their head. +The leaders were gallant and ambitious gentlemen, as they who arrive at +fortunes above their birth mostly are; but their vassals were little +to be trusted. For in that day clanship was still strong, and these +followers had been bred in allegiance to Lancastrian lords, whose +confiscated estates were granted to the Yorkist favourites. The shout +that welcomed the arrival of the king was therefore feeble and lukewarm; +and, disconcerted by so chilling a reception, he dismounted, in less +elevated spirits than those in which he had left Olney, at the pavilion +of his brother-in-law. + +The mourning-dress of Anthony, his countenance saddened by the barbarous +execution of his father and brother, did not tend to cheer the king. + +But Woodville’s account of the queen’s grief and horror at the +afflictions of her House, and of Jacquetta’s indignation at the foul +language which the report of her practices put into the popular mouth, +served to endear to the king’s mind the family that he considered +unduly persecuted. Even in the coldest breasts affection is fanned by +opposition, and the more the queen’s kindred were assailed, the more +obstinately Edward clung to them. By suiting his humour, by winking at +his gallantries, by a submissive sweetness of temper, which soothed his +own hasty moods, and contrasted with the rough pride of Warwick and the +peevish fickleness of Clarence, Elizabeth had completely wound +herself into the king’s heart. And the charming graces, the elegant +accomplishments, of Anthony Woodville were too harmonious with the +character of Edward, who in all--except truth and honour--was the +perfect model of the gay gentilhomme of the time, not to have become +almost a necessary companionship. Indolent natures may be easily ruled, +but they grow stubborn when their comforts and habits are interfered +with. And the whole current of Edward’s merry, easy life seemed to him +to lose flow and sparkle if the faces he loved best were banished, or +even clouded. + +He was yet conversing with Woodville, and yet assuring him that, however +he might temporize, he would never abandon the interests of his queen’s +kindred, when a gentleman entered aghast, to report that the Lords St. +John and de Fulke, on hearing that Sir Anthony Woodville was in command +of the forces, had, without even dismounting, left the camp, and carried +with them their retainers, amounting to more than half of the little +troop that rode from Olney. + +“Let them go,” said Edward, frowning; “a day shall dawn upon their +headless trunks!” + +“Oh, my king,” said Anthony, now Earl of Rivers,--who, by far the least +selfish of his House, was struck with remorse at the penalty Edward paid +for his love marriage,--“now that your Highness can relieve me of my +command, let me retire from the camp. I would fain go a pilgrim to the +shrine of Compostella to pray for my father’s sins and my sovereign’s +weal.” + +“Let us first see what forces arrive from London,” answered the king. +“Richard ere long will be on the march from the frontiers, and whatever +Warwick resolves, Montagu, whose heart I hold in my hand, will bring his +army to my side. Let us wait.” + +But the next day brought no reinforcements, nor the next; and the king +retired betimes to his tent, in much irritation and perplexity; when +at the dead of the night he was startled from slumber by the tramp of +horses, the sound of horns, the challenge of the sentinels, and, as he +sprang from his couch, and hurried on his armour in alarm, the Earl of +Warwick abruptly entered. The earl’s face was stern, but calm and +sad; and Edward’s brave heart beat loud as he gazed on his formidable +subject. + +“King Edward,” said Warwick, slowly and mournfully, “you have deceived +me! I promised to the commons the banishment of the Woodvilles, and to a +Woodville you have flown.” + +“Your promise was given to rebels, with whom no faith can be held; and I +passed from a den of mutiny to the camp of a loyal soldier.” + +“We will not now waste words, king,” answered Warwick. “Please you to +mount and ride northward. The Scotch have gained great advantages on +the marches. The Duke of Gloucester is driven backwards. All the +Lancastrians in the North have risen. Margaret of Anjou is on the coast +of Normandy, [at this time Margaret was at Harfleur--Will. Wyre] ready +to set sail at the first decisive victory of her adherents.” + +“I am with you,” answered Edward; “and I rejoice to think that at last +I may meet a foe. Hitherto it seems as if I had been chased by shadows. +Now may I hope to grasp the form and substance of danger and of battle.” + +“A steed prepared for your Grace awaits you.” + +“Whither ride we first?” + +“To my castle of Warwick, hard by. At noon to-morrow all will be ready +for our northward march.” + +Edward, by this time having armed himself, strode from the tent into the +open air. The scene was striking: the moon was extremely bright and the +sky serene, but around the tent stood a troop of torch-bearers, and the +red glare shone luridly upon the steel of the serried horsemen and the +banners of the earl, in which the grim white bear was wrought upon an +ebon ground, quartered with the dun bull, and crested in gold with the +eagle of the Monthermers. Far as the king’s eye could reach, he saw but +the spears of Warwick; while a confused hum in his own encampment told +that the troops Anthony Woodville had collected were not yet marshalled +into order. Edward drew back. + +“And the Lord Anthony of Scales and Rivers?” said he, hesitatingly. + +“Choose, king, between the Lord Anthony of Scales and Rivers and Richard +Nevile!” answered Warwick, in a stern whisper. + +Edward paused, and at that moment Anthony himself emerged from his tent +(which adjoined the king’s) in company with the Archbishop of York, who +had rode thither in Warwick’s train. + +“My liege,” said that gallant knight, putting his knee to the ground, “I +have heard from the archbishop the new perils that await your Highness, +and I grieve sorely that, in this strait, your councillors deem it meet +to forbid me the glory of fighting or falling by your side! I know too +well the unhappy odium attached to my House and name in the northern +parts, to dispute the policy which ordains my absence from your armies. +Till these feuds are over, I crave your royal leave to quit England, and +perform my pilgrimage to the sainted shrine of Compostella.” + +A burning flush passed over the king’s face as he raised his +brother-in-law, and clasped him to his bosom. + +“Go or stay, as you will, Anthony!” said he; “but let these proud men +know that neither time nor absence can tear you from your king’s heart. +But envy must have its hour Lord Warwick, I attend you; but it seems +rather as your prisoner than your liege.” + +Warwick made no answer: the king mounted, and waved his hand to Anthony. +The torches tossed to and fro, the horns sounded, and in a silence moody +and resentful on either part Edward and his terrible subject rode on to +the towers of Warwick. + +The next day the king beheld with astonishment the immense force that, +in a time so brief, the earl had collected round his standard. + +From his casement, which commanded that lovely slope on which so many +a tourist now gazes with an eye that seeks to call back the stormy and +chivalric past, Edward beheld the earl on his renowned black charger, +reviewing the thousands that, file on file and rank on rank, lifted pike +and lance in the cloudless sun. + +“After all,” muttered the king, “I can never make a new noble a great +baron! And if in peace a great baron overshadows the throne, in time +of war a great baron is a throne’s bulwark! Gramercy, I had been mad +to cast away such an army,--an army fit for a king to lead! They serve +Warwick now; but Warwick is less skilful in the martial art than I, and +soldiers, like hounds, love best the most dexterous huntsman!” + + + + +CHAPTER VII. HOW KING EDWARD ARRIVES AT THE CASTLE OF MIDDLEHAM. + +On the ramparts of feudal Middleham, in the same place where Anne had +confessed to Isabel the romance of her childish love, again the sisters +stood, awaiting the coming of their father and the king. They had only, +with their mother, reached Middleham two days before, and the preceding +night an advanced guard had arrived at the castle to announce the +approach of the earl with his royal comrade and visitor. From the +heights, already they beheld the long array winding in glorious order +towards the mighty pile. + +“Look!” exclaimed Isabel, “look! already methinks I see the white steed +of Clarence. Yes! it is he! it is my George, my husband! The banner +borne before shows his device.” + +“Ah, happy Isabel!” said Anne, sighing; “what rapture to await the +coming of him one loves!” + +“My sweet Anne,” returned Isabel, passing her arm tenderly round her +sister’s slender waist, “when thou hast conquered the vain folly of thy +childhood, thou wilt find a Clarence of thine own. And yet,” added the +young duchess, smiling, “it must be the opposite of a Clarence to be to +thy heart what a Clarence is to mine. I love George’s gay humour,--thou +lovest a melancholy brow. I love that charming weakness which supples to +my woman will,--thou lovest a proud nature that may command thine own. +I do not respect George less, because I know my mind stronger than his +own; but thou (like my gentle mother) wouldst have thy mate lord and +chief in all things, and live from his life as the shadow from the sun. +But where left you our mother?” + +“In the oratory, at prayer.” + +“She has been sad of late.” + +“The dark times darken her; and she ever fears the king’s falseness or +caprice will stir the earl up to some rash emprise. My father’s letter, +brought last night to her, contains something that made her couch +sleepless.” + +“Ha!” exclaimed the duchess, eagerly, “my mother confides in thee more +than me. Saw you the letter?” + +“No.” + +“Edward will make himself unfit to reign,” said Isabel, abruptly. “The +barons will call on him to resign; and then--and then, Anne--sister +Anne,--Warwick’s daughters cannot be born to be simple subjects!” + +“Isabel, God temper your ambition! Oh, curb it, crush it down! Abuse +not your influence with Clarence. Let not the brother aspire to the +brother’s crown.” + +“Sister, a king’s diadem covers all the sins schemed in the head that +wins it!” + +As the duchess spoke, her eyes flashed and her form dilated. Her beauty +seemed almost terrible. + +The gentle Anne gazed and shuddered; but ere she found words to rebuke, +the lovely shape of the countess-mother was seen moving slowly towards +them. She was dressed in her robes of state to receive her kingly guest; +the vest fitting high to the throat, where it joined the ermine tippet, +and thickly sown with jewels; the sleeves tight, with the second or over +sleeves, that, loose and large, hung pendent and sweeping even to the +ground; and the gown, velvet of cramousin, trimmed with ermine,--made a +costume not less graceful than magnificent, and which, where compressed, +set off the exquisite symmetry of a form still youthful, and where +flowing added majesty to a beauty naturally rather soft and feminine +than proud and stately. As she approached her children, she looked +rather like their sister than their mother, as if Time, at least, shrunk +from visiting harshly one for whom such sorrows were reserved. + +The face of the countess was so sad in its aspect of calm and sweet +resignation that even the proud Isabel was touched; and kissing her +mother’s hand, she asked if any ill tidings preceded her father’s +coming. + +“Alas, my Isabel, the times themselves are bad tidings! Your youth +scarcely remembers the days when brother fought against brother, and +the son’s sword rose against the father’s breast. But I, recalling them, +tremble to hear the faintest murmur that threatens a civil war.” She +paused, and forcing a smile to her lips, added, “Our woman fears must +not, however, sadden our lords with an unwelcome countenance; for men +returning to their hearths have a right to a wife’s smile; and so, +Isabel, thou and I, wives both, must forget the morrow in to-day. Hark! +the trumpets sound near and nearer! let us to the hall.” + +Before, however, they had reached the castle, a shrill blast rang at the +outer gate. The portcullis was raised; the young Duke of Clarence, with +a bridegroom’s impatience, spurred alone through the gloomy arch, and +Isabel, catching sight of his countenance lifted towards the ramparts, +uttered a cry, and waved her hand. Clarence beard and saw, leaped from +his steed, and had clasped Isabel to his breast, almost before Anne or +the countess had recognized the new comer. + +Isabel, however, always stately, recovered in an instant from the joy +she felt at her lord’s return, and gently escaping his embrace, she +glanced with a blush towards the battlements crowded with retainers; +Clarence caught and interpreted the look. + +“Well, belle mere,” he said, turning to the countess, “and if yon +faithful followers do witness with what glee a fair bride inspires +a returning bridegroom, is there cause for shame in this cheek of +damascene?” + +“Is the king still with my father?” asked Isabel, hastily, and +interrupting the countess’s reply. + +“Surely, yes; and hard at hand. And pardon me that I forgot, dear lady, +to say that my royal brother has announced his intention of addressing +the principal officers of the army in Middleham Hall. This news gave me +fair excuse for hastening to you and Isabel.” + +“All is prepared for his highness,” said the countess, “save our own +homage. We must quicken our steps; come, Anne.” The countess took the +arm of the younger sister, while the duchess made a sign to Clarence. He +lingered behind, and Isabel, drawing him aside, asked, + +“Is my father reconciled to Edward?” + +“No,--nor Edward to him.” + +“Good! The king has no soldiers of his own amidst yon armed train?” + +“Save a few of Anthony Woodville’s recruits, none. Raoul de Fulke and +St. John have retired to their towers in sullen dudgeon. But have you no +softer questions for my return, bella mia?” + +“Pardon me, many--my king.” + +“King!” + +“What other name should the successor of Edward IV. bear?” + +“Isabel,” said Clarence, in great emotion, “what is it you would tempt +me to? Edward IV. spares the life of Henry VI., and shall Edward IV.’s +brother conspire against his own?” + +“Saints forefend!” exclaimed Isabel; “can you so wrong my honest +meaning? O George! can you conceive that your wife--Warwick’s +daughter--harbours the thought of murder? No! surely the career before +you seems plain and spotless! Can Edward reign? Deserted by the barons, +and wearing away even my father’s long-credulous love; odious! except +in luxurious and unwarlike London, to all the commons--how reign? What +other choice left? none,--save Henry of Lancaster or George of York.” + +“Were it so!” said the weak duke; and yet be added falteringly, “believe +me, Warwick meditates no such changes in my favour.” + +“Time is a rapid ripener,” answered Isabel; “but hark! they are lowering +the drawbridge for our guests.” + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. THE ANCIENTS RIGHTLY GAVE TO THE GODDESS OF ELOQUENCE A +CROWN. + +The lady of Warwick stood at the threshold of the porch, which, in the +inner side of the broad quadrangle, admitted to the apartments used by +the family; and, heading the mighty train that, line after line, emerged +through the grim jaws of the arch, came the earl on his black destrier, +and the young king. + +Even where she stood, the anxious chatelaine beheld the moody and gloomy +air with which Edward glanced around the strong walls of the fortress, +and up to the battlements that bristled with the pikes and sallets of +armed men, who looked on the pomp below, in the silence of military +discipline. + +“Oh, Anne!” she whispered to her youngest daughter, who stood beside +her, “what are women worth in the strife of men? Would that our smiles +could heal the wounds which a taunt can make in a proud man’s heart!” + +Anne, affected and interested by her mother’s words, and with a secret +curiosity to gaze upon the man who ruled on the throne of the prince +she loved, came nearer and more in front; and suddenly, as he turned his +head, the king’s regard rested upon her intent eyes and blooming face. + +“Who is that fair donzell, cousin of Warwick?” he asked. + +“My daughter, sire.” + +“Ah, your youngest!--I have not seen her since she was a child.” + +Edward reined in his charger, and the earl threw himself from his selle, +and held the king’s stirrup to dismount. But he did so with a haughty +and unsmiling visage. “I would be the first, sire,” said he, with a +slight emphasis, and as if excusing to himself his condescension, “to +welcome to Middleham the son of Duke Richard.” + +“And your suzerain, my lord earl,” added Edward, with no less proud +a meaning, and leaning his hand lightly on Warwick’s shoulder, he +dismounted slowly. “Rise, lady,” he said, raising the countess, who +knelt at the porch, “and you too, fair demoiselle. Pardieu, we envy the +knee that hath knelt to you.” So saying, with royal graciousness, he +took the countess’s hand, and they entered the hall as the musicians, in +the gallery raised above, rolled forth their stormy welcome. + +The archbishop, who had followed close to Warwick and the king, +whispered now to his brother, + +“Why would Edward address the captains?” + +“I know not.” + +“He hath made himself familiar with many in the march.” + +“Familiarity with a steel casque better becomes a king than waisall with +a greasy flat-cap.” + +“You do not fear lest he seduce from the White Bear its retainers?” + +“As well fear that he can call the stars from their courses around the +sun.” + +While these words were interchanged, the countess conducted the king to +a throne-chair raised upon the dais, by the side of which were placed +two seats of state, and, from the dais, at the same time, advanced the +Duke and Duchess of Clarence. The king prevented their kneeling, and +kissed Isabel slightly and gravely on the forehead. “Thus, noble lady, +I greet the entrance of the Duchess of Clarence into the royalty of +England.” + +Without pausing for reply, he passed on and seated himself on the +throne, while Isabel and her husband took possession of the state chairs +on either hand. At a gesture of the king’s the countess and Anne placed +themselves on seats less raised, but still upon the dais. But now +as Edward sat, the hall grew gradually full of lords and knights who +commanded in Warwick’s train, while the earl and the archbishop stood +mute in the centre, the one armed cap-a-pie, leaning on his sword, the +other with his arms folded in his long robes. + +The king’s eye, clear, steady, and majestic, roved round that martial +audience, worthy to be a monarch’s war-council, and not one of whom +marched under a monarch’s banner! Their silence, their discipline, the +splendour of their arms, the greater splendour of their noble names, +contrasted painfully with the little mutinous camp of Olney, and the +surly, untried recruits of Anthony Woodville. But Edward, whose step, +whose form, whose aspect, proclaimed the man conscious of his rights to +be lord of all, betrayed not to those around him the kingly pride, the +lofty grief, that swelled within his heart. Still seated, he raised his +left hand to command silence; with the right he replaced his plumed cap +upon his brow. + +“Lords and gentlemen,” he said (arrogating to himself at once, as a +thing of course, that gorgeous following), “we have craved leave of our +host to address to you some words,--words which it pleases a king to +utter, and which may not be harsh to the ears of a loyal subject. Nor +will we, at this great current of unsteady fortune, make excuse, noble +ladies, to you, that we speak of war to knighthood, which is ever the +sworn defender of the daughter and the wife,--the daughters and the wife +of our cousin Warwick have too much of hero-blood in their blue veins to +grow pale at the sight of heroes. Comrades in arms! thus far towards our +foe upon the frontier we have marched, without a sword drawn or an arrow +launched from an archer’s bow. We believe that a blessing settles on the +head of a true king, and that the trumpet of a good angel goes before +his path, announcing the victory which awaits him. Here, in the hall of +the Earl of Warwick, our captain-general, we thank you for your cheerful +countenance and your loyal service; and here, as befits a king, we +promise to you those honours a king alone worthily can bestow.” He +paused, and his keen eye glanced from chief to chief as he resumed: “We +are informed that certain misguided and traitor lords have joined +the Rose of Lancaster. Whoever so doth is attainted, life and line, +evermore! His lands and dignities are forfeit to enrich and to ennoble +the men who strike for me. Heaven grant I may have foes eno’ to reward +all my friends! To every baron who owns Edward IV. king (ay, and not +king in name, king in banquet and in bower, but leader and captain in +the war), I trust to give a new barony, to every knight a new knight’s +fee, to every yeoman a hyde of land, to every soldier a year’s pay. What +more I can do, let it be free for any one to suggest,--for my domains of +York are broad, and my heart is larger still!” + +A murmur of applause and reverence went round. Vowed, as those warriors +were, to the earl, they felt that A MONARCH was amongst them. + +“What say you, then? We are ripe for glory. Three days will we halt at +Middleham, guest to our noble subject.” + +“Three days, sire!” repeated Warwick, in a voice of surprise. + +“Yes; and this, fair cousin, and ye, lords and gentlemen, is my reason +for the delay. I have despatched Sir William, Lord de Hastings, to +the Duke of Gloucester, with command to join us here (the archbishop +started, but instantly resumed his earnest, placid aspect); to the Lord +Montagu, Earl of Northumberland, to muster all the vassals of our shire +of York. As three streams that dash into the ocean, shall our triple +army meet and rush to the war. Not even, gentlemen, not even to the +great Earl of Warwick will Edward IV. be so beholden for roiaulme and +renown, as to march but a companion to the conquest. If ye were raised +in Warwick’s name, not mine,--why, be it so! I envy him such friends; +but I will have an army of mine own, to show mine English soldiery how +a Plantagenet battles for his crown. Gentlemen, ye are dismissed to your +repose. In three days we march! and if any of you know in these fair +realms the man, be he of York or of Lancaster, more fit to command brave +subjects than he who now addresses you, I say to that man, turn rein, +and leave us! Let tyrants and cowards enforce reluctant service,--my +crown was won by the hearts of my people! Girded by those hearts, let me +reign, or, mourned by them, let me fall! So God and Saint George favour +me as I speak the truth!” + +And as the king ceased, he uncovered his head, and kissed the cross +of his sword. A thrill went through the audience. Many were there, +disaffected to his person, and whom Warwick’s influence alone could have +roused to arms; but at the close of an address spirited and loyal in +itself, and borrowing thousand-fold effect by the voice and mien of the +speaker, no feeling but that of enthusiastic loyalty, of almost tearful +admiration, was left in those steel-clad breasts. + +As the king lifted on high the cross of his sword, every blade leaped +from its scabbard, and glittered in the air; and the dusty banners in +the hall waved, as to a mighty blast, when, amidst the rattle of armour, +burst forth the universal cry, “Long live Edward IV.! Long live the +king!” + +The sweet countess, even amidst the excitement, kept her eyes anxiously +fixed on Warwick, whose countenance, however shaded by the black plumes +of his casque, though the visor was raised, revealed nothing of +his mind. Her daughters were more powerfully affected; for Isabel’s +intellect was not so blinded by her ambition but that the kingliness +of Edward forced itself upon her with a might and solemn weight, which +crushed, for the moment, her aspiring hopes. + +Was this the man unfit to reign? This the man voluntarily to resign a +crown? This the man whom George of Clarence, without fratricide, could +succeed? No!--there spoke the soul of the First and the Third Edward! +There shook the mane and there glowed the eye of the indomitable lion +of the august Plantagenets! And the same conviction, rousing softer and +holier sorrow, sat on the heart of Anne; she saw, as for the first time, +clearly before her the awful foe with whom her ill-omened and beloved +prince had to struggle for his throne. In contrast beside that form, +in the prime of manly youth--a giant in its strength, a god in its +beauty--rose the delicate shape of the melancholy boy who, afar in +exile, coupled in his dreams, the sceptre and the bride! By one of those +mysteries which magnetism seeks to explain, in the strong intensity of +her emotions, in the tremor of her shaken nerves, fear seemed to grow +prophetic. A stream as of blood rose up from the dizzy floors. The image +of her young prince, bound and friendless, stood before the throne of +that warrior-king. In the waving glitter of the countless swords raised +on high, she saw the murderous blade against the boy-heir of Lancaster +descend--descend! Her passion, her terror, at the spectre which fancy +thus evoked, seized and overcame her; and ere the last hurrah sent its +hollow echo to the raftered roof, she sank from her chair to the ground, +hueless and insensible as the dead. + +The king had not without design permitted the unwonted presence of the +women in this warlike audience,--partly because he was not unaware +of the ambitious spirit of Isabel, partly because he counted on the +affection shown to his boyhood by the countess, who was said to have +singular influence over her lord, but principally because in such a +presence he trusted to avoid all discussion and all questioning, and +to leave the effect of his eloquence, in which he excelled all his +contemporaries, Gloucester alone excepted, single and unimpaired; and +therefore, as he rose, and returned with a majestic bend the acclamation +of the warriors, his eye now turned towards the chairs where the ladies +sat, and he was the first to perceive the swoon of the fair Anne. + +With the tender grace that always characterized his service to women, he +descended promptly from his throne, and raised the lifeless form in his +stalwart arms; and Anne, as he bent over her, looked so strangely lovely +in her marble stillness, that even in that hour a sudden thrill shot +through a heart always susceptible to beauty as the harp-string to the +breeze. + +“It is but the heat, lady,” said he, to the alarmed countess, “and let +me hope that interest which my fair kinswoman may take in the fortunes +of Warwick and of York, hitherto linked together--” + +“May they ever be so!” said Warwick, who, on seeing his daughter’s +state, had advanced hastily to the dais; and, moved by the king’s words, +his late speech, the evils that surrounded his throne, the gentleness +shown to the beloved Anne, forgetting resentment and ceremony alike, he +held out his mailed hand. The king, as he resigned Anne to her mother’s +arms, grasped with soldierly frankness, and with the ready wit of the +cold intellect which reigned beneath the warm manner, the hand thus +extended, and holding still that iron gauntlet in his own ungloved and +jewelled fingers, he advanced to the verge of the dais, to which, in +the confusion occasioned by Anne’s swoon, the principal officers had +crowded, and cried aloud,-- + +“Behold! Warwick and Edward thus hand in hand, as they stood when the +clarions sounded the charge at Towton! and that link what swords forged +on a mortal’s anvil can rend or sever?” + +In an instant every knee there knelt; and Edward exultingly beheld that +what before had been allegiance to the earl was now only homage to the +king. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. WEDDED CONFIDENCE AND LOVE--THE EARL AND THE PRELATE--THE +PRELATE AND THE KING--SCHEMES--WILES--AND THE BIRTH OF A DARK THOUGHT +DESTINED TO ECLIPSE A SUN. + +While, preparatory to the banquet, Edward, as was then the daily classic +custom, relaxed his fatigues, mental or bodily, in the hospitable bath, +the archbishop sought the closet of the earl. + +“Brother,” said he, throwing himself with some petulance into the only +chair the room, otherwise splendid, contained, “when you left me to +seek Edward in the camp of Anthony Woodville, what was the understanding +between us?” + +“I know of none,” answered the earl, who having doffed his armour, and +dismissed his squires, leaned thoughtfully against the wall, dressed +for the banquet, with the exception of the short surcoat, which lay +glittering on the tabouret. + +“You know of none? Reflect! Have you brought hither Edward as a guest or +as a prisoner?” + +The earl knit his brows--“A prisoner, archbishop?” + +The prelate regarded him with a cold smile. + +“Warwick, you, who would deceive no other man, now seek to deceive +yourself.” The earl drew back, and his hardy countenance grew a shade +paler. The prelate resumed: “You have carried Edward from his camp, and +severed him from his troops; you have placed him in the midst of your +own followers; you have led him, chafing and resentful all the way, to +this impregnable keep; and you now pause, amazed by the grandeur of +your captive,--a man who leads to his home a tiger, a spider who has +entangled a hornet in its web!” + +“Nay, reverend brother,” said the earl, calmly, “ye churchmen never know +what passes in the hearts of those who feel and do not scheme. When I +learned that the king had fled to the Woodvilles, that he was bent upon +violating the pledge given in his name to the insurgent commons, I vowed +that he should redeem my honour and his own, or that forever I would +quit his service. And here, within these walls which sheltered his +childhood, I trusted, and trust still, to make one last appeal to his +better reason.” + +“For all that, men now, and history hereafter, will consider Edward as +your captive.” + +“To living men my words and deeds can clear themselves; and as for +history, let clerks and scholars fool themselves in the lies of +parchment! He who has acted history, despises the gownsmen who sit in +cloistered ease, and write about what they know not.” The earl paused, +and then continued: “I confess, however, that I have had a scheme. +I have wished to convince the king how little his mushroom lords can +bestead him in the storm; and that he holds his crown only from his +barons and his people.” + +“That is, from the Lord Warwick!” + +“Perhaps I am the personation of both seignorie and people; but I design +this solely for his welfare. Ah, the gallant prince--how well he bore +himself to-day!” + +“Ay, when stealing all hearts from thee to him.” + +“And, Vive Dieu, I never loved him so well as when he did! Methinks it +was for a day like this that I reared his youth and achieved his crown. +Oh, priest, priest, thou mistakest me. I am rash, hot, haughty, hasty; +and I love not to bow my knees to a man because they call him king, if +his life be vicious and his word be false. But could Edward be ever as +to-day, then indeed should I hail a sovereign whom a baron may reverence +and a soldier serve!” + +Before the archbishop could reply, the door gently opened, and the +countess appeared. Warwick seemed glad of the interruption; he turned +quickly--“And how fares my child?” + +“Recovered from her strange swoon, and ready to smile at thy return. Oh, +Warwick, thou art reconciled to the king?” + +“That glads thee, sister?” said the archbishop. + +“Surely. Is it not for my lord’s honour?” + +“May he find it so!” said the prelate, and he left the room. + +“My priest-brother is chafed,” said the earl, smiling. “Pity he was not +born a trader, he would have made a shrewd hard bargain. Verily, our +priests burn the Jews out of envy! Ah, m’amie, how fair thou art to-day! +Methinks even Isabel’s cheek less blooming.” And the warrior drew the +lady towards him, and smoothed her hair, and tenderly kissed her brow. +“My letter vexed thee, I know, for thou lovest Edward, and blamest me +not for my love to him. It is true that he hath paltered with me, and +that I had stern resolves, not against his crown, but to leave him to +his fate, and in these halls to resign my charge. But while he spoke, +and while he looked, methought I saw his mother’s face, and heard his +dear father’s tone, and the past rushed over me, and all wrath was gone. +Sonless myself, why would he not be my son?” The earl’s voice trembled, +and the tears stood in his dark eyes. + +“Speak thus, dear lord, to Isabel, for I fear her overvaulting spirit--” + +“Ah, had Isabel been his wife!” he paused and moved away. Then, as +if impatient to escape the thoughts that tended to an ungracious +recollection, he added, “And now, sweetheart, these slight fingers have +ofttimes buckled on my mail; let them place on my breast this badge of +St. George’s chivalry; and, if angry thoughts return, it shall remind me +that the day on which I wore it first, Richard of York said to his young +Edward, ‘Look to that star, boy, if ever, in cloud and trouble, thou +wouldst learn what safety dwells in the heart which never knew deceit.’” + +During the banquet, the king, at whose table sat only the Duke of +Clarence and the earl’s family, was gracious as day to all, but +especially to the Lady Anne, attributing her sudden illness to some +cause not unflattering to himself; her beauty, which somewhat resembled +that of the queen, save that it had more advantage of expression and +of youth, was precisely of the character he most admired. Even her +timidity, and the reserve with which she answered him, had their charms; +for, like many men, themselves of imperious nature and fiery will, +he preferred even imbecility in a woman to whatever was energetic or +determined; and hence perhaps his indifference to the more dazzling +beauty of Isabel. After the feast, the numerous demoiselles, high-born +and fair, who swelled the more than regal train of the countess, were +assembled in the long gallery, which was placed in the third story +of the castle and served for the principal state apartment. The dance +began; but Isabel excused herself from the pavon, and the king led +out the reluctant and melancholy Anne. The proud Isabel, who had +never forgiven Edward’s slight to herself, resented deeply his evident +admiration of her sister, and conversed apart with the archbishop, whose +subtle craft easily drew from her lips confessions of an ambition higher +even than his own. He neither encouraged nor dissuaded; he thought +there were things more impossible than the accession of Clarence to the +throne, but he was one who never plotted,--save for himself and for the +Church. + +As the revel waned, the prelate approached the earl, who, with that +remarkable courtesy which charmed those below his rank and contrasted +with his haughtiness to his peers, had well played amongst his knights +the part of host, and said, in a whisper, “Edward is in a happy +mood--let us lose it not. Will you trust me to settle all differences +ere he sleep? Two proud men never can agree without a third of a gentler +temper.” + +“You are right,” said Warwick, smiling; “yet the danger is that I should +rather concede too much than be too stubborn. But look you, all I demand +is satisfaction to mine own honour and faith to the army I disbanded in +the king’s name.” + +“All!” muttered the archbishop, as he turned away, “but that call is +everything to provoke quarrel for you, and nothing to bring power to +me!” + +The earl and the archbishop attended the king to his chamber, and after +Edward was served with the parting refection, or livery, the earl said, +with his most open smile, “Sire, there are yet affairs between us; whom +will you confer with,--me or the archbishop?” + +“Oh, the archbishop, by all means, fair cousin,” cried Edward, no less +frankly; “for if you and I are left alone, the Saints help both of +us!--when flint and steel meet, fire flies, and the house may burn.” + +The earl half smiled at the candour, half sighed at the levity, of the +royal answer, and silently left the room. The king, drawing round him +his loose dressing-robe, threw himself upon the gorgeous coverlid of the +bed, and lying at lazy length, motioned to the prelate to seat himself +at the foot. The archbishop obeyed. Edward raised himself on his elbow, +and, by the light of seven gigantic tapers, set in sconces of massive +silver, the priest and the king gravely gazed on each other without +speaking. + +At last Edward, bursting into his hale, clear, silvery laugh, said, +“Confess, dear sir and cousin,--confess that we are like two skilful +masters of Italian fence, each fearing to lay himself open by commencing +the attack.” + +“Certes,” quoth the archbishop, “your Grace over-estimates my vanity, in +opining that I deemed myself equal to so grand a duello. If there were +dispute between us, I should only win by baring my bosom.” + +The king’s bow-like lip curved with a slight sneer, quickly replaced by +a serious and earnest expression. “Let us leave word-making, and to +the point, George. Warwick is displeased because I will not abandon my +wife’s kindred; you, with more reason, because I have taken from your +hands the chancellor’s great seal--” + +“For myself, I humbly answer that your Grace errs. I never coveted other +honours than those of the Church.” + +“Ay,” said Edward, keenly examining the young prelate’s smooth face, “is +it so? Yes, now I begin to comprehend thee. What offence have I given +to the Church? Have I suffered the law too much to sleep against the +Lollards. If so, blame Warwick.” + +“On the contrary, sire, unlike other priests, I have ever deemed that +persecution heals no schism. Blow not dying embers. Rather do I think +of late that too much severity hath helped to aid, by Lollard bows and +pikes, the late rising. My lady, the queen’s mother, unjustly accused of +witchcraft, hath sought to clear herself, and perhaps too zealously, in +exciting your Grace against that invisible giant yclept heresy.” + +“Pass on,” said Edward. “It is not then indifference to the ecclesia +that you complain of. Is it neglect of the ecclesiastic? Ha, ha! you +and I, though young, know the colours that make up the patchwork world. +Archbishop, I love an easy life; if your brother and his friends will +but give me that, let them take all else. Again, I say, to the point,--I +cannot banish my lady’s kindred, but I will bind your House still more +to mine. I have a daughter, failing male issue, the heiress to my crown. +I will betroth her to your nephew, my beloved Montagu’s son. They are +children yet, but their ages not unsuited. And when I return to London, +young Nevile shall be Duke of Bedford, a title hitherto reserved to the +royal race. [And indeed there was but one Yorkist duke then in England +out of the royal family,--namely, the young boy Buckingham, who +afterwards vainly sought to bend the Ulysses bow of Warwick against +Richard III.] Let that be a pledge of peace between the queen’s mother, +bearing the same honours, and the House of Nevile, to which they pass.” + +The cheek of the archbishop flushed with proud pleasure; he bowed his +head, and Edward, ere he could answer, went on: “Warwick is already +so high that, pardie, I have no other step to give him, save my throne +itself, and, God’s truth, I would rather be Lord Warwick than King +of England! But for you--listen--our only English cardinal is old and +sickly; whenever he pass to Abraham’s bosom, who but you should have +the suffrage of the holy college? Thou knowest that I am somewhat in +the good favour of the sovereign pontiff. Command me to the utmost. +Now, George, are we friends?” The archbishop kissed the gracious hand +extended to him, and, surprised to find, as by magic, all his schemes +frustrated by sudden acquiescence in the objects of them all, his +voice faltered with real emotion as he gave vent to his gratitude. +But abruptly he checked himself, his brow lowered, and with a bitter +remembrance of his brother’s plain, blunt sense of honour, he said, +“Yet, alas! my liege, in all this there is nought to satisfy our +stubborn host.” + +“By dear Saint George and my father’s head!” exclaimed Edward, +reddening, and starting to his feet, “what would the man have?” + +“You know,” answered the archbishop, “that Warwick’s pride is only +roused when he deems his honour harmed. Unhappily, as he thinks, by your +Grace’s full consent, he pledged himself to the insurgents of Olney to +the honourable dismissal of the lords of the Woodville race. And unless +this be conceded, I fear me that all else he will reject, and the love +between ye can be but hollow!” + +Edward took but three strides across the chamber, and then halted +opposite the archbishop, and lay both hands on his shoulders, as, +looking him full in the face, he said, “Answer me frankly, am I a +prisoner in these towers or not?” + +“Not, sire.” + +“You palter with me, priest. I have been led hither against my will. +I am almost without an armed retinue. I am at the earl’s mercy. This +chamber might be my grave, and this couch my bed of death.” + +“Holy Mother! Can you think so of Warwick? Sire, you freeze my blood.” + +“Well, then, if I refuse to satisfy Warwick’s pride, and disdain to give +up loyal servants to rebel insolence, what will Warwick do? Speak out, +archbishop.” + +“I fear me, sire, that he will resign all office, whether of peace or +war. I fear me that the goodly army now at sleep within and around these +walls will vanish into air, and that your Highness will stand alone +amidst new men, and against the disaffection of the whole land!” + +Edward’s firm hand trembled. The prelate continued, with a dry, caustic +smile,-- + +“Sire, Sir Anthony Woodville, now Lord Rivers, has relieved you of +all embarrassment; no doubt, my Lord Dorset and his kinsmen will be +chevaliers enough to do the same. The Duchess of Bedford will but +suit the decorous usage to retire a while into privacy, to mourn her +widowhood. And when a year is told, if these noble persons reappear at +court, your word and the earl’s will at least have been kept.” + +“I understand thee,” said the king, half laughing; “but I have my pride +as well as Warwick. To concede this point is to humble the conceder.” + +“I have thought how to soothe all things, and without humbling either +party. Your Grace’s mother is dearly beloved by Warwick and revered by +all. Since your marriage she hath lived secluded from all state affairs. +As so nearly akin to Warwick, so deeply interested in your Grace, she is +a fitting mediator in all disputes. Be they left to her to arbitrate.” + +“Ah, cunning prelate, thou knowest how my proud mother hates the +Woodvilles; thou knowest how her judgment will decide.” + +“Perhaps so; but at least your Grace will be spared all pain and all +abasement.” + +“Will Warwick consent to this?” + +“I trust so.” + +“Learn, and report to me. Enough for to-night’s conference.” Edward was +left alone, and his mind ran rapidly over the field of action open to +him. + +“I have half won the earl’s army,” he thought; “but it would be to +lose all hold in their hearts again, if they knew that these unhappy +Woodvilles were the cause of a second breach between us. Certes, the +Lancastrians are making strong head! Certes, the times must be played +with and appeased! And yet these poor gentlemen love me after my own +fashion, and not with the bear’s hug of that intolerable earl. How came +the grim man by so fair a daughter? Sweet Anne! I caught her eye often +fixed on me, and with a soft fear which my heart beat loud to read +aright. Verily, this is the fourth week I have passed without hearing +a woman’s sigh! What marvel that so fair a face enamours me! Would +that Warwick made her his ambassador; and yet it were all over with +the Woodvilles if he did! These men know not how to manage me, and +well-a-day, that task is easy eno’ to women!” He laughed gayly to +himself as he thus concluded his soliloquy, and extinguished the tapers. +But rest did not come to his pillow; and after tossing to and fro for +some time in vain search for sleep, he rose and opened his casement to +cool the air which the tapers had overheated. In a single casement, in a +broad turret, projecting from an angle in the building, below the tower +in which his chamber was placed, the king saw a solitary light +burning steadily. A sight so unusual at such an hour surprised him. +“Peradventure, the wily prelate,” thought he. “Cunning never sleeps.” + But a second look showed him the very form that chased his slumbers. +Beside the casement, which was partially open, he saw the soft profile +of the Lady Anne; it was bent downwards; and what with the clear +moonlight, and the lamp within her chamber, he could see distinctly that +she was weeping. “Ah, Anne,” muttered the amorous king, “would that I +were by to kiss away those tears!” While yet the unholy wish murmured on +his lips, the lady rose. The fair hand, that seemed almost transparent +in the moonlight, closed the casement; and though the light lingered for +some minutes ere it left the dark walls of the castle without other sign +of life than the step of the sentry, Anne was visible no more. + +“Madness! madness! madness!” again murmured the king. “These Neviles are +fatal to me in all ways,--in hatred or in love!” + + + + +BOOK VIII. IN WHICH THE LAST LINK BETWEEN KING-MAKER AND KING SNAPS +ASUNDER. + + + + +CHAPTER I. THE LADY ANNE VISITS THE COURT. + +It was some weeks after the date of the events last recorded. The storm +that hung over the destinies of King Edward was dispersed for the hour, +though the scattered clouds still darkened the horizon: the Earl of +Warwick had defeated the Lancastrians on the frontier, [Croyl. 552] and +their leader had perished on the scaffold; but Edward’s mighty sword had +not shone in the battle. Chained by an attraction yet more powerful than +slaughter, he had lingered at Middleham, while Warwick led his army to +York; and when the earl arrived at the capital of Edward’s ancestral +duchy, he found that the able and active Hastings--having heard, even +before he reached the Duke of Gloucester’s camp, of Edward’s apparent +seizure by the earl and the march to Middleham--had deemed it best +to halt at York, and to summon in all haste a council of such of the +knights and barons as either love to the king or envy to Warwick could +collect. The report was general that Edward was retained against his +will at Middleham; and this rumour Hastings gravely demanded Warwick, +on the arrival of the latter at York, to disprove. The earl, to clear +himself from a suspicion that impeded all his military movements, +despatched Lord Montagu to Middleham, who returned not only with the +king, but the countess and her daughters, whom Edward, under pretence +of proving the complete amity that existed between Warwick and himself, +carried in his train. The king’s appearance at York reconciled all +differences; but he suffered Warwick to march alone against the enemy, +and not till after the decisive victory, which left his reign for a +while without an open foe, did he return to London. + +Thither the earl, by the advice of his friends, also repaired, and in +a council of peers, summoned for the purpose, deigned to refute the +rumours still commonly circulated by his foes, and not disbelieved +by the vulgar, whether of his connivance at the popular rising or his +forcible detention of the king at Middleham. To this, agreeably to the +counsel of the archbishop, succeeded a solemn interview of the heads of +the Houses of York and Warwick, in which the once fair Rose of Raby (the +king’s mother) acted as mediator and arbiter. The earl’s word to +the commons at Olney was ratified. Edward consented to the temporary +retirement of the Woodvilles, though the gallant Anthony yet delayed his +pilgrimage to Compostella. The vanity of Clarence was contented by the +government of Ireland, but, under various pretences, Edward deferred +his brother’s departure to that important post. A general amnesty was +proclaimed, a parliament summoned for the redress of popular grievances, +and the betrothal of the king’s daughter to Montagu’s heir was +proclaimed: the latter received the title of Duke of Bedford; and the +whole land rejoiced in the recovered peace of the realm, the retirement +of the Woodvilles, and the reconciliation of the young king with his +all-beloved subject. Never had the power of the Neviles seemed so +secure; never did the throne of Edward appear so stable. + +It was at this time that the king prevailed upon the earl and his +countess to permit the Lady Anne to accompany the Duchess of Clarence +in a visit to the palace of the Tower. The queen had submitted so +graciously to the humiliation of her family, that even the haughty +Warwick was touched and softened; and the visit of his daughter at such +a time became a homage to Elizabeth which it suited his chivalry to +render. + +The public saw in this visit, which was made with great state and +ceremony, the probability of a new and popular alliance. The archbishop +had suffered the rumour of Gloucester’s attachment to the Lady Anne to +get abroad, and the young prince’s return from the North was anxiously +expected by the gossips of the day. + +It was on this occasion that Warwick showed his gratitude for Marmaduke +Nevile’s devotion. “My dear and gallant kinsman,” he said, “I forget not +that when thou didst leave the king and the court for the discredited +minister and his gloomy hall,--I forget not that thou didst tell me +of love to some fair maiden, which had not prospered according to thy +merits. At least it shall not be from lack of lands, or of the gold +spur, which allows the wearer to ride by the side of king or kaisar, +that thou canst not choose thy bride as the heart bids thee. I pray +thee, sweet cousin, to attend my child Anne to the court, where the king +will show thee no ungracious countenance; but it is just to recompense +thee for the loss of thy post in his highness’s chamber. I hold the +king’s commission to make knights of such as can pay the fee, and +thy lands shall suffice for the dignity. Kneel down and rise up, Sir +Marmaduke Nevile, lord of the Manor of Borrodaile, with its woodlands +and its farms, and may God and our Lady render thee puissant in battle +and prosperous in love!” + +Accordingly, in his new rank, and entitled to ruffle it with the +bravest, Sir Marmaduke Nevile accompanied the earl and the Lady Anne to +the palace of the Tower. + +As Warwick, leaving his daughter amidst the brilliant circle that +surrounded Elizabeth, turned to address the king, he said, with simple +and unaffected nobleness,-- + +“Ah, my liege, if you needed a hostage of my faith, think that my heart +is here, for verily its best blood were less dear to me than that slight +girl,--the likeness of her mother, when her lips first felt the touch of +mine!” + +Edward’s bold brow fell, and he blushed as he answered, “My Elizabeth +will hold her as a sister. But, cousin, part you not now for the North?” + +“By your leave I go first to Warwick.” + +“Ah, you do not wish to approve of my seeming preparations against +France?” + +“Nay, your Highness is not in earnest. I promised the commons that you +would need no supplies for so thriftless a war.” + +“Thou knowest I mean to fulfil all thy pledges. But the country so +swarms with disbanded soldiers, that it is politic to hold out to them a +hope of service, and so let the clouds gradually pass away.” + +“Alack, my liege,” said Warwick, gravely, “I suppose that a crown +teaches the brow to scheme; but hearty peace or open war seems ever the +best to me.” + +Edward smiled, and turned aside. Warwick glanced at his daughter, whom +Elizabeth flatteringly caressed, stifled a sigh, and the air seemed +lighter to the insects of the court as his proud crest bowed beneath the +doorway, and, with the pomp of his long retinue, he vanished from the +scene. + +“And choose, fair Anne,” said the queen, “choose from my ladies whom +you will have for your special train. We would not that your attendance +should be less than royal.” + +The gentle Anne in vain sought to excuse herself from an honour at once +arrogant and invidious, though too innocent to perceive the cunning +so characteristic of the queen; for, under the guise of a special +compliment, Anne had received the royal request to have her female +attendants chosen from the court, and Elizabeth now desired to +force upon her a selection which could not fail to mortify those not +preferred. But glancing timidly round the circle, the noble damsel’s eye +rested on one fair face, and in that face there was so much that awoke +her own interest, and stirred up a fond and sad remembrance, that she +passed involuntarily to the stranger’s side, and artlessly took her +hand. The high-born maidens, grouped around, glanced at each other with +a sneer, and slunk back. Even the queen looked surprised; but recovering +herself, inclined her head graciously, and said, “Do we read your +meaning aright, Lady Anne, and would you this gentlewoman, Mistress +Sibyll Warner, as one of your chamber?” + +“Sibyll, ah, I knew that my memory failed me not,” murmured Anne; and, +after bowing assent to the queen, she said, “Do you not also recall, +fair demoiselle, our meeting, when children long years ago?” + +“Well, noble dame,” [The title of dame was at that time applied +indiscriminately to ladies whether married or single, if of high birth.] +answered Sibyll. And as Anne turned, with her air of modest gentleness, +yet of lofty birth and breeding, to explain to the queen that she had +met Sibyll in earlier years, the king approached to monopolize his +guest’s voice and ear. It seemed natural to all present that Edward +should devote peculiar attention to the daughter of Warwick and the +sister of the Duchess of Clarence; and even Elizabeth suspected no +guiltier gallantry in the subdued voice, the caressing manner, which +her handsome lord adopted throughout that day, even to the close of the +nightly revel, towards a demoiselle too high (it might well appear) for +licentious homage. + +But Anne herself, though too guileless to suspect the nature of Edward’s +courtesy, yet shrank from it in vague terror. All his beauty, all his +fascination, could not root from her mind the remembrance of the exiled +prince; nay, the brilliancy of his qualities made her the more averse +to him. It darkened the prospects of Edward of Lancaster that Edward +of York should wear so gracious and so popular a form. She hailed with +delight the hour when she was conducted to her chamber, and dismissing +gently the pompous retinue allotted to her, found herself alone with the +young maiden whom she had elected to her special service. + +“And you remember me, too, fair Sibyll?” said Anne, with her dulcet and +endearing voice. + +“Truly, who would not? for as you, then, noble lady, glided apart from +the other children, hand in hand with the young prince, in whom all +dreamed to see their future king, I heard the universal murmur of--a +false prophecy!” + +“Ah! and of what?” asked Anne. + +“That in the hand the prince clasped with his small rosy fingers--the +hand of great Warwick’s daughter--lay the best defence of his father’s +throne.” + +Anne’s breast heaved, and her small foot began to mark strange +characters on the floor. + +“So,” she said musingly, “so even here, amidst a new court, you forget +not Prince Edward of Lancaster. Oh, we shall find hours to talk of the +past days. But how, if your childhood was spent in Margaret’s court, +does your youth find a welcome in Elizabeth’s?” + +“Avarice and power had need of my father’s science. He is a scholar of +good birth, but fallen fortunes, even now, and ever while night lasts, +he is at work. I belonged to the train of her grace of Bedford; but when +the duchess quitted the court, and the king retained my father in his +own royal service, her highness the queen was pleased to receive me +among her maidens. Happy that my father’s home is mine!--who else could +tend him?” + +“Thou art his only child?--he must--love thee dearly?” + +“Yet not as I love him; he lives in a life apart from all else that +live. But after all, peradventure it is sweeter to love than to be +loved.” + +Anne, whose nature was singularly tender and woman-like, was greatly +affected by this answer. She drew nearer to Sibyll; she twined her arm +round her slight form, and kissed her forehead. + +“Shall I love thee, Sibyll?” she said, with a girl’s candid simplicity, +“and wilt thou love me?” + +“Ah, lady! there are so many to love thee,--father, mother, sister,--all +the world; the very sun shines more kindly upon the great!” + +“Nay!” said Anne, with that jealousy of a claim to suffering to which +the gentler natures are prone, “I may have sorrows from which thou +art free. I confess to thee, Sibyll, that something I know not how to +explain draws me strangely towards thy sweet face. Marriage has lost me +my only sister, for since Isabel is wed she is changed to me--would that +her place were supplied by thee! Shall I steal thee from the queen when +I depart? Ah, my mother--at least thou wilt love her! for verily, to +love my mother you have but to breathe the same air. Kiss me, Sibyll.” + +Kindness, of late, had been strange to Sibyll, especially from her own +sex, one of her own age; it came like morning upon the folded blossom. +She threw her arms round the new friend that seemed sent to her from +heaven; she kissed Anne’s face and hands with grateful tears. + +“Ah!” she said at last, when she could command a voice still broken with +emotion--“if I could ever serve--ever repay thee--though those gracious +words were the last thy lips should ever deign to address to me!” + +Anne was delighted; she had never yet found one to protect; she had +never yet found one in whom thoroughly to confide. Gentle as her mother +was, the distinction between child and parent was, even in the fond +family she belonged to, so great in that day, that she could never have +betrayed to the countess the wild weakness of her young heart. + +The wish to communicate, to reveal, is so natural to extreme youth, and +in Anne that disposition was so increased by a nature at once open and +inclined to lean on others, that she had, as we have seen, sought a +confidante in Isabel; but with her, even at the first, she found but +the half-contemptuous pity of a strong and hard mind; and lately, since +Edward’s visit to Middleham, the Duchess of Clarence had been so rapt in +her own imperious egotism and discontented ambition, that the timid +Anne had not even dared to touch, with her, upon those secrets which it +flushed her own bashful cheek to recall. And this visit to the +court, this new, unfamiliar scene, this estrangement from all the old +accustomed affections, had produced in her that sense of loneliness +which is so irksome, till grave experience of real life accustoms us to +the common lot. So with the exaggerated and somewhat morbid sensibility +that belonged to her, she turned at once, and by impulse, to this +sudden, yet graceful friendship. Here was one of her own age, one who +had known sorrow, one whose voice and eyes charmed her, one who would +not chide even folly, one, above all, who had seen her beloved prince, +one associated with her fondest memories, one who might have a thousand +tales to tell of the day when the outlaw boy was a monarch’s heir. In +the childishness of her soft years, she almost wept at another channel +for so much natural tenderness. It was half the woman gaining a +woman-friend, half the child clinging to a new playmate. + +“Ah, Sibyll,” she whispered, “do not leave me to-night; this strange +place daunts me, and the figures on the arras seem so tall and +spectre-like, and they say the old tower is haunted. Stay, dear Sibyll!” + +And Sibyll stayed. + + + + +CHAPTER II. THE SLEEPING INNOCENCE--THE WAKEFUL CRIME. + +While these charming girls thus innocently conferred; while, Anne’s +sweet voice running on in her artless fancies, they helped each other to +undress; while hand in hand they knelt in prayer by the crucifix in +the dim recess; while timidly they extinguished the light, and stole to +rest; while, conversing in whispers, growing gradually more faint and +low, they sank into guileless sleep,--the unholy king paced his solitary +chamber, parched with the fever of the sudden and frantic passion that +swept away from a heart in which every impulse was a giant all the +memories of honour, gratitude, and law. + +The mechanism of this strong man’s nature was that almost unknown to the +modern time; it belonged to those earlier days which furnish to Greece +the terrible legends Ovid has clothed in gloomy fire, which a similar +civilization produced no less in the Middle Ages, whether of Italy or +the North,--that period when crime took a grandeur from its excess; when +power was so great and absolute that its girth burst the ligaments of +conscience; when a despot was but the incarnation of WILL; when honour +was indeed a religion, but its faith was valour, and it wrote its +decalogue with the point of a fearless sword. + +The youth of Edward IV. was as the youth of an ancient Titan, of an +Italian Borgia; through its veins the hasty blood rolled as a devouring +flame. This impetuous and fiery temperament was rendered yet more +fearful by the indulgence of every intemperance; it fed on wine and +lust; its very virtues strengthened its vices,--its courage stifled +every whisper of prudence; its intellect, uninured to all discipline, +taught it to disdain every obstacle to its desires. Edward could, +indeed, as we have seen, be false and crafty, a temporizer, a +dissimulator; but it was only as the tiger creeps,--the better to +spring, undetected, on its prey. If detected, the cunning ceased, the +daring rose, and the mighty savage had fronted ten thousand foes, secure +in its fangs and talons, its bold heart and its deadly spring. Hence, +with all Edward’s abilities, the astonishing levities and indiscretions +of his younger years. It almost seemed, as we have seen him play fast +and loose with the might of Warwick, and with that power, whether of +barons or of people, which any other prince of half his talents would +have trembled to arouse against an unrooted throne,--it almost seemed +as if he loved to provoke a danger for the pleasure it gave the brain +to baffle or the hand to crush it. His whole nature coveting excitement, +nothing was left to the beautiful, the luxurious Edward, already wearied +with pomp and pleasure, but what was unholy and forbidden. In his court +were a hundred ladies, perhaps not less fair than Anne, at least of a +beauty more commanding the common homage, but these he had only to smile +on with ease to win. No awful danger, no inexpiable guilt, attended +those vulgar frailties, and therefore they ceased to tempt. But here +the virgin guest, the daughter of his mightiest subject, the beloved +treasure of the man whose hand had built a throne, whose word had +dispersed an army--here, the more the reason warned, the conscience +started, the more the hell-born passion was aroused. + +Like men of his peculiar constitution, Edward was wholly incapable of +pure and steady love. His affection for his queen the most resembled +that diviner affection; but when analyzed, it was composed of feelings +widely distinct. From a sudden passion, not otherwise to be gratified, +he had made the rashest sacrifices for an unequal marriage. His vanity, +and something of original magnanimity, despite his vices, urged him to +protect what he himself had raised,--to secure the honour of the subject +who was honoured by the king. In common with most rude and powerful +natures, he was strongly alive to the affections of a father, and the +faces of his children helped to maintain the influence of the mother. +But in all this, we need scarcely say that that true love, which is at +once a passion and a devotion, existed not. Love with him cared not for +the person loved, but solely for its own gratification; it was desire +for possession,--nothing more. But that desire was the will of a king +who never knew fear or scruple; and, pampered by eternal indulgence, +it was to the feeble lusts of common men what the storm is to the west +wind. Yet still, as in the solitude of night he paced his chamber, the +shadow of the great crime advancing upon his soul appalled even that +dauntless conscience. He gasped for breath; his cheeks flushed crimson, +and the next moment grew deadly pale. He heard the loud beating of his +heart. He stopped still. He flung himself on a seat, and hid his face +with his hands; then starting up, he exclaimed, “No, no! I cannot shut +out that sweet face, those blue eyes from my gaze. They haunt me to my +destruction and her own. Yet why say destruction? If she love me, who +shall know the deed? If she love me not, will she dare to reveal her +shame? Shame!--nay, a king’s embrace never dishonours. A king’s bastard +is a House’s pride. All is still,--the very moon vanishes from heaven. +The noiseless rushes in the gallery give no echo to the footstep. Fie on +me! Can a Plantagenet know fear?” He allowed himself no further time to +pause; he opened the door gently and stole along the gallery. He knew +well the chamber, for it was appointed by his command, and, besides the +usual door from the corridor, a small closet conducted to a secret panel +behind the arras. It was the apartment occupied, in her visits to the +court, by the queen’s rival, the Lady Elizabeth Lucy. He passed into the +closet; he lifted the arras; he stood in that chamber, which gratitude +and chivalry and hospitable faith should have made sacred as a shrine. +And suddenly, as he entered, the moon, before hid beneath a melancholy +cloud, broke forth in awful splendour, and her light rushed through +the casement opposite his eye, and bathed the room with the beams of a +ghostlier day. + +The abruptness of the solemn and mournful glory scared him as the +rebuking face of a living thing; a presence as if not of earth seemed to +interpose between the victim and the guilt. It was, however, but for a +moment that his step halted. He advanced: he drew aside the folds of +the curtain heavy with tissue of gold, and the sleeping face of Anne +lay hushed before him. It looked pale in the moonlight, but ineffably +serene, and the smile on its lips seemed still sweeter than that which +it wore awake. So fixed was his gaze, so ardently did his whole heart +and being feed through his eyes upon that exquisite picture of innocence +and youth, that he did not see for some moments that the sleeper was not +alone. Suddenly an exclamation rose to his lips. He clenched his hand +in jealous agony; he approached; he bent over; he heard the regular +breathing which the dreams of guilt never know; and then, when he saw +that pure and interlaced embrace,--the serene yet somewhat melancholy +face of Sibyll, which seemed hueless as marble in the moonlight, bending +partially over that of Anne, as if even in sleep watchful; both charming +forms so linked and woven that the two seemed as one life, the very +breath in each rising and ebbing with the other; the dark ringlets of +Sibyll mingling with the auburn gold of Anne’s luxuriant hair, and the +darkness and the gold, tress within tress, falling impartially over +either neck, that gleamed like ivory beneath that common veil,--when +he saw this twofold loveliness, the sentiment, the conviction of that +mysterious defence which exists in purity, thrilled like ice through his +burning veins. In all his might of monarch and of man, he felt the awe +of that unlooked-for protection,--maidenhood sheltering maidenhood, +innocence guarding innocence. The double virtue appalled and baffled +him; and that slight arm which encircled the neck he would have perilled +his realm to clasp, shielded his victim more effectually than the +bucklers of all the warriors that ever gathered round the banner of the +lofty Warwick. Night and the occasion befriended him; but in vain. While +Sibyll was there, Anne was saved. He ground his teeth, and muttered to +himself. At that moment Anne turned restlessly. This movement disturbed +the light sleep of her companion. She spoke half inaudibly, but the +sound was as the hoot of shame in the ear of the guilty king. He let +fall the curtain, and was gone. And if one who lived afterwards to hear +and to credit the murderous doom which, unless history lies, closed the +male line of Edward, had beheld the king stealing, felon-like, from +the chamber,--his step reeling to and fro the gallery floors, his face +distorted by stormy passion, his lips white and murmuring, his beauty +and his glory dimmed and humbled,--the spectator might have half +believed that while Edward gazed upon those harmless sleepers, A VISION +OF THE TRAGEDY TO COME had stricken down his thought of guilt, and +filled up its place with horror,--a vision of a sleep as pure, of two +forms wrapped in an embrace as fond, of intruders meditating a crime +scarce fouler than his own; and the sins of the father starting into +grim corporeal shapes, to become the deathsmen of the sons! + + + + +CHAPTER III. NEW DANGERS TO THE HOUSE OF YORK--AND THE KING’S HEART +ALLIES ITSELF WITH REBELLION AGAINST THE KING’S THRONE. + +Oh, beautiful is the love of youth to youth, and touching the tenderness +of womanhood to woman; and fair in the eyes of the happy sun is the +waking of holy sleep, and the virgin kiss upon virgin lips smiling and +murmuring the sweet “Good-morrow!” + +Anne was the first to wake; and as the bright winter morn, robust with +frosty sunbeams shone cheerily upon Sibyll’s face, she was struck with +a beauty she had not sufficiently observed the day before; for in the +sleep of the young the traces of thought and care vanish, the aching +heart is lulled in the body’s rest, the hard lines relax into flexile +ease, a softer, warmer bloom steals over the cheek, and, relieved +from the stiff restraints of dress, the rounded limbs repose in a more +alluring grace! Youth seems younger in its slumber, and beauty more +beautiful, and purity more pure. Long and dark, the fringe of the +eyelash rested upon the white lids, and the freshness of the parting +pouted lips invited the sister kiss that wakened up the sleeper. + +“Ah, lady,” said Sibyll, parting her tresses from her dark blue eyes, +“you are here, you are safe!--blessed be the saints and our Lady! for I +had a dream in the night that startled and appalled me.” + +“And my dreams were all blithe and golden,” said Anne. “What was thine?” + +“Methought you were asleep and in this chamber, and I not by your side, +but watching you at a little distance; and lo! a horrible serpent glided +from yon recess, and, crawling to your pillow, I heard its hiss, and +strove to come to your aid, but in vain; a spell seemed to chain my +limbs. At last I found voice, I cried aloud, I woke; and mock me not, +but I surely heard a parting footstep, and the low grating of some +sliding door.” + +“It was the dream’s influence, enduring beyond the dream. I have often +felt it so,--nay, even last night; for I, too, dreamed of another, +dreamed that I stood by the altar with one far away, and when I +woke--for I woke also--it was long before I could believe it was thy +hand I held, and thine arm that embraced me.” + +The young friends rose, and their toilet was scarcely ended, when again +appeared in the chamber all the stateliness of retinue allotted to the +Lady Anne. Sibyll turned to depart. “And whither go you?” asked Anne. + +“To visit my father; it is my first task on rising,” returned Sibyll, in +a whisper. + +“You must let me visit him, too, at a later hour. Find me here an hour +before noon, Sibyll.” + +The early morning was passed by Anne in the queen’s company. The +refection, the embroidery frame, the closheys, filled up the hours. +The Duchess of Clarence had left the palace with her lord to visit +the king’s mother at Baynard’s Castle; and Anne’s timid spirits were +saddened by the strangeness of the faces round her, and Elizabeth’s +habitual silence. There was something in the weak and ill-fated queen +that ever failed to conciliate friends. Though perpetually striving to +form and create a party, she never succeeded in gaining confidence +or respect. And no one raised so high was ever left so friendless as +Elizabeth, when, in her awful widowhood, her dowry home became the +sanctuary. All her power was but the shadow of her husband’s royal sun, +and vanished when the orb prematurely set; yet she had all gifts of +person in her favour, and a sleek smoothness of manner that seemed to +the superficial formed to win; but the voice was artificial, and the +eye cold and stealthy. About her formal precision there was an +eternal consciousness of self, a breathing egotism. Her laugh was +displeasing,--cynical, not mirthful; she had none of that forgetfulness +of self, that warmth when gay, that earnestness when sad, which create +sympathy. Her beauty was without loveliness, her character without +charm; every proportion in her form might allure the sensualist; but +there stopped the fascination. The mind was trivial, though cunning +and dissimulating; and the very evenness of her temper seemed but +the clockwork of a heart insensible to its own movements. Vain in +prosperity, what wonder that she was so abject in misfortune? What +wonder that even while, in later and gloomier years, [Grafton, 806] +accusing Richard III. of the murder of her royal sons, and knowing him, +at least, the executioner of her brother and her child by the bridegroom +of her youth, [Anthony Lord Rivers, and Lord Richard Gray. Not the least +instance of the frivolity of Elizabeth’s mind is to be found in her +willingness, after all the woes of her second widowhood, and when she +was not very far short of sixty years old, to take a third husband, +James III., of Scotland,--a marriage prevented only by the death of the +Scotch king.] she consented to send her daughters to his custody, though +subjected to the stain of illegitimacy, and herself only recognized as +the harlot? + +The king, meanwhile, had ridden out betimes alone, and no other of the +male sex presumed in his absence to invade the female circle. It was +with all a girl’s fresh delight that Anne escaped at last to her own +chamber, where she found Sibyll; and, with her guidance, she threaded +the gloomy mazes of the Tower. “Let me see,” she whispered, “before we +visit your father, let me see the turret in which the unhappy Henry is +confined.” + +And Sibyll led her through the arch of that tower, now called “The +Bloody,” and showed her the narrow casement deep sunk in the mighty +wall, without which hung the starling in the cage, basking its plumes in +the wintry sun. Anne gazed with that deep interest and tender reverence +which the parent of the man she loves naturally excites in a woman; and +while thus standing sorrowful and silent, the casement was unbarred, +and she saw the mild face of the human captive; he seemed to talk to +the bird, which, in shrill tones and with clapping wings, answered +his address. At that time a horn sounded at a little distance off; a +clangour of arms, as the sentries saluted, was heard; the demoiselles +retreated through the arch, and mounted the stair conducting to the +very room, then unoccupied, in which tradition records the murder of the +Third Richard’s nephews; and scarcely had they gained this retreat, ere +towards the Bloody Gate, and before the prison tower, rode the king who +had mounted the captive’s throne. His steed, gaudy with its housing, his +splendid dress, the knights and squires who started forward from every +corner to hold his gilded stirrup, his vigorous youth, so blooming and +so radiant,--all contrasted, with oppressive force, the careworn face +that watched him meekly through the little casement of the Wakefield +tower. Edward’s large, quick blue eye caught sudden sight of the once +familiar features. He looked up steadily, and his gaze encountered the +fallen king’s. He changed countenance: but with the external chivalry +that made the surface of his hollow though brilliant character, he bowed +low to his saddle-bow as he saw his captive, and removed the plumed cap +from his high brow. + +Henry smiled sadly, and shook his reverend head, as if gently to rebuke +the mockery; then he closed the casement; and Edward rode into the yard. + +“How can the king hold here a court and here a prison? Oh, hard heart!” + murmured Anne, as, when Edward had disappeared, the damsels bent their +way to Adam’s chamber. + +“Would the Earl Warwick approve thy pity, sweet Lady Anne?” asked +Sibyll. + +“My father’s heart is too generous to condemn it,” returned Anne, wiping +the tears from her eyes; “how often in the knight’s galliard shall I see +that face!” + +The turret in which Warner’s room was placed flanked the wing inhabited +by the royal family and their more distinguished guests (namely, +the palace, properly speaking, as distinct from the fortress), and +communicated with the regal lodge by a long corridor, raised above +cloisters and open to a courtyard. At one end of this corridor a door +opened upon the passage, in which was situated the chamber of the Lady +Anne; the other extremity communicated with a rugged stair of stone, +conducting to the rooms tenanted by Warner. Leaving Sibyll to present +her learned father to the gentle Anne, we follow the king into the +garden, which he entered on dismounting. He found here the Archbishop +of York, who had come to the palace in his barge, and with but a slight +retinue, and who was now conversing with Hastings in earnest whispers. + +The king, who seemed thoughtful and fatigued, approached the two, and +said, with a forced smile, “What learned sententiary engages you two +scholars?” + +“Your Grace,” said the archbishop, “Minerva was not precisely the +goddess most potent over our thoughts at that moment. I received a +letter last evening from the Duke of Gloucester, and as I know the love +borne by the prince to the Lord Hastings, I inquired of your chamberlain +how far he would have foreguessed the news it announced.” + +“And what may the tidings be?” asked Edward, absently. + +The prelate hesitated. + +“Sire,” he said gravely, “the familiar confidence with which both your +Highness and the Duke of Gloucester distinguish the chamberlain, permits +me to communicate the purport of the letter in his presence. The young +duke informs me that he hath long conceived an affection which he would +improve into marriage, but before he address either the demoiselle or +her father, he prays me to confer with your Grace, whose pleasure in +this, as in all things, will be his sovereign law.” + +“Ah, Richard loves me with a truer love than George of Clarence! But who +can he have seen on the Borders worthy to be a prince’s bride?” + +“It is no sudden passion, sire, as I before hinted; nay, it has been for +some time sufficiently notorious to his friends and many of the court; +it is an affection for a maiden known to him in childhood, connected to +him by blood,--my niece, Anne Nevile.” + +As if stung by a scorpion, Edward threw off the prelate’s arm, on which +he had been leaning with his usual caressing courtesy. + +“This is too much!” said he, quickly, and his face, before somewhat +pale, grew highly flushed. “Is the whole royalty of England to be one +Nevile? Have I not sufficiently narrowed the basis of my throne? Instead +of mating my daughter to a foreign power,--to Spain or to Bretagne,--she +is betrothed to young Montagu! Clarence weds Isabel, and now +Gloucester--no, prelate, I will not consent!” + +The archbishop was so little prepared for this burst, that he remained +speechless. Hastings pressed the king’s arm, as if to caution him +against so imprudent a display of resentment; but the king walked on, +not heeding him, and in great disturbance. Hastings interchanged looks +with the archbishop, and followed his royal master. + +“My king,” he said, in an earnest whisper, “whatever you decide, do not +again provoke unhappy feuds laid at rest. Already this morning I +sought your chamber, but you were abroad, to say that I have received +intelligence of a fresh rising of the Lancastrians in Lincolnshire, +under Sir Robert Welles, and the warlike knight of Scrivelsby, Sir +Thomas Dymoke. This is not yet an hour to anger the pride of the +Neviles!” + +“O Hastings! Hastings!” said the king, in a tone of passionate emotion, +“there are moments when the human heart cannot dissemble! Howbeit your +advice is wise and honest! No, we must not anger the Neviles!” + +He turned abruptly; rejoined the archbishop, who stood on the spot on +which the king had left him, his arms folded on his breast, his face +calm, but haughty. + +“My most worshipful cousin,” said Edward, “forgive the well-known +heat of my hasty moods! I had hoped that Richard would, by a foreign +alliance, have repaired the occasion of confirming my dynasty abroad, +which Clarence lost. But no matter! Of these things we will speak anon. +Say naught to Richard till time ripens maturer resolutions: he is a +youth yet. What strange tidings are these from Lincolnshire?” + +“The house of your purveyor, Sir Robert de Burgh, is burned, his lands +wasted. The rebels are headed by lords and knights. Robin of Redesdale, +who, methinks, bears a charmed life, has even ventured to rouse the +disaffected in my brother’s very shire of Warwick.” + +“O Henry,” exclaimed the king, casting his eyes towards the turret +that held his captive, “well mightest then call a crown ‘a wreath of +thorns!’” + +“I have already,” said the archbishop, “despatched couriers to my +brother, to recall him from Warwick, whither he went on quitting your +Highness. I have done more; prompted by a zeal that draws me from the +care of the Church to that of the State, I have summoned the Lords +St. John, De Fulke, and others, to my house of the More,--praying your +Highness to deign to meet them, and well sure that a smile from your +princely lips will regain their hearts and confirm heir allegiance, at a +moment when new perils require all strong arms.” + +“You have done most wisely. I will come to your palace,--appoint your +own day.” + +“It will take some days for the barons to arrive from their castles. I +fear not ere the tenth day from this.” + +“Ah,” said the king, with a vivacity that surprised his listeners, aware +of his usual impetuous energy, “the delay will but befriend us; as +for Warwick, permit me to alter your arrangements; let him employ the +interval, not in London, where he is useless, but in raising men in +the neighbourhood of his castle, and in defeating the treason of this +Redesdale knave. We will give commission to him and to Clarence to levy +troops; Hastings, see to this forthwith. Ye say Sir Robert Welles leads +the Lincolnshire varlets; I know the nature of his father, the Lord +Welles,--a fearful and timorous one; I will send for him, and the +father’s head shall answer for the son’s faith. Pardon me, dear cousin, +that I leave you to attend these matters. Prithee visit our queen, +meanwhile, she holds you our guest.” + +“Nay, your Highness must vouchsafe my excuse; I also have your royal +interests too much at heart to while an hour in my pleasurement. I will +but see the friends of our House now in London, and then back to the +More, and collect the force of my tenants and retainers.” + +“Ever right, fair speed to you, cardinal that shall be! Your arm, +Hastings.” + +The king and his favourite took their way into the state chambers. + +“Abet not Gloucester in this alliance,--abet him not!” said the king, +solemnly. + +“Pause, sire! This alliance gives to Warwick a wise counsellor, instead +of the restless Duke of Clarence. Reflect what danger may ensue if an +ambitious lord, discontented with your reign, obtains the hand of the +great earl’s coheiress, and the half of a hundred baronies that command +an army larger than the crown’s.” + +Though these reasonings at a calmer time might well have had their +effect on Edward, at that moment they were little heeded by his +passions. He stamped his foot violently on the floor. “Hastings!” he +exclaimed, “be silent! or--” He stopped short, mastered his emotion. +“Go, assemble our privy council. We have graver matters than a boy’s +marriage now to think of.” + +It was in vain that Edward sought to absorb the fire of his nature in +state affairs, in all needful provisions against the impending perils, +in schemes of war and vengeance. The fatal frenzy that had seized him +haunted him everywhere, by day and by night. For some days after the +unsuspected visit which he had so criminally stolen to his guest’s +chamber, something of knightly honour, of religious scruple, of common +reason,--awakened in him the more by the dangers which had sprung up and +which the Neviles were now actively employed in defeating,--struggled +against his guilty desire, and roused his conscience to a less feeble +resistance than it usually displayed when opposed to passion; but the +society of Anne, into which he was necessarily thrown so many hours in +the day, and those hours chiefly after the indulgences of the banquet, +was more powerful than all the dictates of a virtue so seldom exercised +as to have none of the strength of habit. And as the time drew near when +he must visit the archbishop, head his army against the rebels (whose +force daily increased, despite the captivity of Lord Welles and +Sir Thomas Dymoke, who, on the summons of the king, had first taken +sanctuary, and then yielded their persons on the promise of pardon and +safety), and restore Anne to her mother,--as this time drew near, his +perturbation of mind became visible to the whole court; but, with the +instinct of his native craft, he contrived to conceal its cause. For the +first time in his life he had no confidant--he did not dare trust his +secret to Hastings. His heart gnawed itself. Neither, though constantly +stealing to Anne’s side, could he venture upon language that might +startle and enlighten her. He felt that even those attentions, which +on the first evening of her arrival had been noticed by the courtiers, +could not be safely renewed. He was grave and constrained, even when by +her side, and the etiquette of the court allowed him no opportunity for +unwitnessed conference. In this suppressed and unequal struggle with +himself the time passed, till it was now but the day before that fixed +for his visit to the More. And, as he rose at morning from his restless +couch, the struggle was over, and the soul resolved to dare the crime. +His first thought was to separate Anne from Sibyll. He affected to +rebuke the queen for giving to his high-born guest an associate below +her dignity, and on whose character, poor girl, rested the imputation +of witchcraft; and when the queen replied that Lady Anne herself had +so chosen, he hit upon the expedient of visiting Warner himself, under +pretence of inspecting his progress,--affected to be struck by the +sickly appearance of the sage, and sending for Sibyll, told her, with +an air of gracious consideration, that her first duty was to attend her +parent; that the queen released her for some days from all court duties; +and that he had given orders to prepare the room adjoining Master +Warner’s, and held by Friar Bungey, till that worthy had retired with +his patroness from the court, to which she would for the present remove. + +Sibyll, wondering at this novel mark of consideration in the careless +king, yet imputing it to the high value set on her father’s labours, +thanked Edward with simple earnestness, and withdrew. In the anteroom +she encountered Hastings, on his way to the king. He started in +surprise, and with a jealous pang: “What! thou, Sibyll! and from the +king’s closet! What led thee thither?” + +“His grace’s command.” And too noble for the pleasure of exciting the +distrust that delights frivolous minds as the proof of power, Sibyll +added, “The king has been kindly speaking to me of my father’s health.” + The courtier’s brow cleared; he mused a moment, and said, in a whisper, +“I beseech thee to meet me an hour hence at the eastern rampart.” + +Since the return of Lord Hastings to the palace there had been an +estrangement and distance in his manner, ill suiting one who enjoyed the +rights of an accepted suitor, and wounding alike to Sibyll’s affection +and her pride; but her confidence in his love and truth was entire. Her +admiration for him partook of worship, and she steadily sought to reason +away any causes for alarm by recalling the state cares which pressed +heavily upon him, and whispering to herself that word of “wife,” which, +coming in passionate music from those beloved lips, had thrown a mist +over the present, a glory over the future! and in the king’s retention +of Adam Warner, despite the Duchess of Bedford’s strenuous desire +to carry him off with Friar Bungey, and restore him to his tasks of +alchemist and multiplier, as well as in her own promotion to the queen’s +service, Sibyll could not but recognize the influence of her powerful +lover. His tones now were tender, though grave and earnest. Surely, in +the meeting he asked, all not comprehended would be explained. And so, +with a light heart, she passed on. + +Hastings sighed as his eye followed her from the room, and thus said he +to himself, “Were I the obscure gentleman I once was, how sweet a lot +would that girl’s love choose to me from the urn of fate! But, oh! when +we taste of power and greatness, and master the world’s dark wisdom, +what doth love shrink to?--an hour’s bliss and a life’s folly.” His +delicate lip curled, and breaking from his soliloquy, he entered the +king’s closet. Edward was resting his face upon the palms of his hands, +and his bright eyes dwelt upon vacant space, till they kindled into +animation as they lighted on his favourite. + +“Dear Will,” said the king, “knowest thou that men say thou art +bewitched?” + +“Beau sire, often have men, when a sweet face hath captured thy great +heart, said the same of thee!” + +“It may be so with truth, for verily love is the arch-devil’s birth.” + +The king rose, and strode his chamber with a quick step; at last +pausing,-- + +“Hastings,” he said, “so thou lovest the multiplier’s pretty daughter? +She has just left me. Art thou jealous?” + +“Happily your Highness sees no beauty in looks that have the gloss of +the raven, and eyes that have the hue of the violet.” + +“No, I am a constant man, constant to one idea of beauty in a thousand +forms,--eyes like the summer’s light-blue sky, and locks like its +golden sunbeams! But to set thy mind at rest, Will, know that I have +but compassionated the sickly state of the scholar, whom thou prizest so +highly; and I have placed thy fair Sibyll’s chamber near her father’s. +Young Lovell says thou art bent on wedding the wizard’s daughter.” + +“And if I were, beau sire?” + +Edward looked grave. + +“If thou wert, my poor Will, thou wouldst lose all the fame for shrewd +wisdom which justifies thy sudden fortunes. No, no; thou art the flower +and prince of my new seignorie,--thou must mate thyself with a name and +a barony that shall be worthy thy fame and thy prospects. Love beauty, +but marry power, Will. In vain would thy king draw thee up, if a +despised wife draw thee down!” + +Hastings listened with profound attention to these words. The king did +not wait for his answer, but added laughingly,-- + +“It is thine own fault, crafty gallant, if thou dost not end all her +spells.” + +“What ends the spells of youth and beauty, beau sire?” + +“Possession!” replied the king, in a hollow and muttered voice. + +Hastings was about to answer, when the door opened, and the officer in +waiting announced the Duke of Clarence. “Ha!” said Edward, “George comes +to importune me for leave to depart to the government of Ireland, and I +have to make him weet that I think my Lord Worcester a safer viceroy of +the two.” + +“Your Highness will pardon me; but, though I deemed you too generous in +the appointment, it were dangerous now to annul it.” + +“More dangerous to confirm it. Elizabeth has caused me to see the folly +of a grant made over the malmsey,--a wine, by the way, in which poor +George swears he would be content to drown himself. Viceroy of Ireland! +My father had that government, and once tasting the sweets of royalty, +ceased to be a subject! No, no, Clarence--” + +“Can never meditate treason against a brother’s crown. Has he the wit or +the energy or the genius for so desperate an ambition?” + +“No; but he hath the vanity. And I will wager thee a thousand marks to +a silver penny that my jester shall talk giddie Georgie into advancing a +claim to be soldan of Egypt or Pope of Rome!” + + + + +CHAPTER IV. THE FOSTER-BROTHERS. + +Sir Marmaduke Nevile was sunning his bravery in the Tower Green, amidst +the other idlers of the court, proud of the gold chain and the gold +spurs which attested his new rank, and not grieved to have exchanged the +solemn walls of Middleham for the gay delights of the voluptuous palace, +when to his pleasure and surprise, he perceived his foster-brother enter +the gateway; and no sooner had Nicholas entered, than a bevy of the +younger courtiers hastened eagerly towards him. + +“Gramercy!” quoth Sir Marmaduke, to one of the bystanders, “what hath +chanced to make Nick Alwyn a man of such note, that so many wings +of satin and pile should flutter round him like sparrows round an +owl?--which, by the Holy Rood, his wise face somewhat resembleth.” + +“Know you not that Master Alwyn, since he hath commenced trade for +himself, hath acquired already the repute of the couthliest goldsmith +in London? No dague-hilts, no buckles are to be worn, save those that he +fashions; and--an he live, and the House of York prosper--verily, Master +Alwyn the goldsmith will ere long be the richest and best man from +Mile-end to the Sanctuary.” + +“Right glad am I to hear it,” said honest Marmaduke, heartily; and +approaching Alwyn, he startled the precise trader by a friendly slap on +the shoulder. + +“What, man, art thou too proud to remember Marmaduke Nevile? Come to my +lodgment yonder, and talk of old days over the king’s canary.” + +“I crave your pardon, dear Master Nevile.” + +“Master--avaunt! Sir Marmaduke,--knighted by the hand of Lord +Warwick,--Sir Marmaduke Nevile, lord of a manor he hath never yet seen, +sober Alwyn.” + +Then drawing his foster-brother’s arm in his, Marmaduke led him to the +chamber in which he lodged. + +The young men spent some minutes in congratulating each other on their +respective advances in life: the gentleman who had attained competence +and station simply by devotion to a powerful patron, the trader who had +already won repute and the prospect of wealth by ingenuity, application, +and toil; and yet, to do justice, as much virtue went to Marmaduke’s +loyalty to Warwick as to Alwyn’s capacities for making a fortune. Mutual +compliments over, Alwyn said hesitatingly,-- + +“And dost thou find Mistress Sibyll more gently disposed to thee than +when thou didst complain to me of her cruelty?” + +“Marry, good Nicholas, I will be frank with thee. When I left the court +to follow Lord Warwick, there were rumours of the gallantries of Lord +Hastings to the girl, which grieved me to the heart. I spoke to her +thereof bluntly and honourably, and got but high looks and scornful +words in return. Good fellow, I thank thee for that squeeze of the hand +and that doleful sigh. In my absence at Middleham, I strove hard to +forget one who cared so little for me. My dear Alwyn, those Yorkshire +lasses are parlously comely, and mighty douce and debonaire. So I +stormed cruel Sibyll out of my heart perforce of numbers.” + +“And thou lovest her no more?” + +“Not I, by this goblet! On coming back, it is true, I felt pleased +to clank my gold spurs in her presence, and curious to see if my new +fortunes would bring out a smile of approval; and verily, to speak +sooth, the donzell was kind and friendly, and spoke to me so cheerly of +the pleasure she felt in my advancement, that I adventured again a few +words of the old folly. But my lassie drew up like a princess, and I am +a cured man.” + +“By your troth?” + +“By my troth!” + +Alwyn’s head sank on his bosom in silent thought. Sir Marmaduke emptied +his goblet; and really the young knight looked so fair and so gallant, +in his new surcoat of velvet, that it was no marvel if he should find +enough food for consolation in a court where men spent six hours a day +in making love,--nor in vain. + +“And what say they still of the Lord Hastings?” asked Alwyn, breaking +silence. “Nothing, I trow and trust, that arraigns the poor lady’s +honour, though much that may scoff at her simple faith in a nature so +vain and fickle. ‘The tongue’s not steel, yet it cuts,’ as the proverb +saith of the slanderer.” + +“No! scandal spares her virtue as woman, to run down her cunning +as witch! They say that Hastings hath not prevailed, nor sought to +prevail,--that he is spell-bound. By Saint Thomas, from a maid of such +character Marmaduke Nevile is happily rescued!” + +“Sir Marmaduke,” then said Alwyn, in a grave and earnest voice, “it +behooves me, as true friend, though humble, and as honest man, to give +thee my secret, in return for thine own. I love this girl. Ay, ay! thou +thinkest that love is a strange word on a craftsman’s lips, but ‘cold +flint hides hot fire.’ I would not have been thy rival, Heaven forefend! +hadst thou still cherished a hope, or if thou now wilt forbid my +aspiring; but if thou wilt not say me nay, I will try my chance in +delivering a pure soul from a crafty wooer.” + +Marmaduke stared in great surprise at his foster-brother; and though, no +doubt, he spoke truth when he said he was cured of his love for Sibyll, +he yet felt a sort of jealousy at Alwyn’s unexpected confession, and +his vanity was hurt at the notion that the plain-visaged trader should +attempt where the handsome gentleman had failed.--However, his blunt, +generous, manly nature after a brief struggle got the better of these +sore feelings; and holding out his hand to Alwyn, he said, “My dear +foster-brother, try the hazard and cast thy dice, if thou wilt. Heaven +prosper thee, if success be for thine own good! But if she be given to +witchcraft (plague on thee, man, sneer not at the word), small comfort +to bed and hearth can such practices bring!” + +“Alas!” said Alwyn, “the witchcraft is on the side of Hastings,--the +witchcraft of fame and rank, and a glozing tongue and experienced art. +But she shall not fall, if a true arm can save her; and ‘though Hope be +a small child; she can carry a great anchor.’” + +These words were said so earnestly, that they opened new light into +Marmaduke’s mind; and his native generosity standing in lieu of +intellect, he comprehended sympathetically the noble motives which +actuated the son of commerce. + +“My poor Alwyn,” he said, “if thou canst save this young maid,--whom +by my troth I loved well, and who tells me yet that she loveth me as a +sister loves,--right glad shall I be. But thou stakest thy peace of mind +against hers! Fair luck to thee, say I again,--and if thou wilt risk thy +chance at once (for suspense is love’s purgatory), seize the moment. I +saw Sibyll, just ere we met, pass to the ramparts, alone; at this sharp +season the place is deserted; go.” + +“I will, this moment!” said Alwyn, rising and turning very pale; but +as he gained the door, he halted--“I had forgot, Master Nevile, that I +bring the king his signet-ring, new set, of the falcon and fetter-lock.” + +“They will keep thee three hours in the anteroom. The Duke of Clarence +is now with the king. Trust the ring to me, I shall see his highness ere +he dines.” + +Even in his love, Alwyn had the Saxon’s considerations of business; he +hesitated--“May I not endanger thereby the king’s favour and loss of +custom?” said the trader. + +“Tush, man! little thou knowest King Edward; he cares naught for the +ceremonies: moreover, the Neviles are now all-puissant in favour. I +am here in attendance on sweet Lady Anne, whom the king loves as a +daughter, though too young for sire to so well-grown a donzell; and a +word from her lip, if need be, will set all as smooth as this gorget of +lawn!” + +Thus assured, Alwyn gave the ring to his friend, and took his way at +once to the ramparts. Marmaduke remained behind to finish the canary and +marvel how so sober a man should form so ardent a passion. Nor was he +much less surprised to remark that his friend, though still speaking +with a strong provincial accent, and still sowing his discourse with +rustic saws and proverbs, had risen in language and in manner with the +rise of his fortunes. “An he go on so, and become lord mayor,” muttered +Marmaduke, “verily he will half look like a gentleman!” + +To these meditations the young knight was not long left in peace. A +messenger from Warwick House sought and found him, with the news that +the earl was on his road to London, and wished to see Sir Marmaduke the +moment of his arrival, which was hourly expected. The young knight’s +hardy brain somewhat flustered by the canary, Alwyn’s secret, and this +sudden tidings, he hastened to obey his chief’s summons, and forgot, +till he gained the earl’s mansion, the signet ring intrusted to him by +Alwyn. “What matters it?” said he then, philosophically,--“the king hath +rings eno’ on his fingers not to miss one for an hour or so, and I dare +not send any one else with it. Marry, I must plunge my head in cold +water, to get rid of the fumes of the wine.” + + + + +CHAPTER V. THE LOVER AND THE GALLANT--WOMAN’S CHOICE. + +Alwyn bent his way to the ramparts, a part of which then resembled +the boulevards of a French town, having rows of trees, green sward, a +winding walk, and seats placed at frequent intervals for the repose +of the loungers. During the summer evenings, the place was a favourite +resort of the court idlers; but now, in winter, it was usually deserted, +save by the sentries, placed at distant intervals. The trader had not +gone far in his quest when he perceived, a few paces before him, the +very man he had most cause to dread; and Lord Hastings, hearing the +sound of a footfall amongst the crisp, faded leaves that strewed the +path, turned abruptly as Alwyn approached his side. + +At the sight of his formidable rival, Alwyn had formed one of those +resolutions which occur only to men of his decided, plain-spoken, +energetic character. His distinguishing shrewdness and penetration had +given him considerable insight into the nobler as well as the weaker +qualities of Hastings; and his hope in the former influenced the +determination to which he came. The reflections of Hastings at that +moment were of a nature to augur favourably to the views of the humbler +lover; for, during the stirring scenes in which his late absence +from Sibyll had been passed, Hastings had somewhat recovered from her +influence; and feeling the difficulties of reconciling his honour +and his worldly prospects to further prosecution of the love, rashly +expressed but not deeply felt, he had determined frankly to cut the +Gordian knot he could not solve, and inform Sibyll that marriage between +them was impossible. With that view he had appointed this meeting, and +his conference with the king but confirmed his intention. It was in this +state of mind that he was thus accosted by Alwyn:-- + +“My lord, may I make bold to ask for a few moments your charitable +indulgence to words you may deem presumptuous?” + +“Be brief, then, Master Alwyn,--I am waited for.” + +“Alas, my lord! I can guess by whom,--by the one whom I seek myself,--by +Sibyll Warner.” + +“How, Sir Goldsmith!” said Hastings, haughtily, “what knowest thou of my +movements, and what care I for thine?” + +“Hearken, my Lord Hastings,--hearken!” said Alwyn, repressing his +resentment, and in a voice so earnest that it riveted the entire +attention of the listener--“hearken, and judge not as noble judges +craftsman, but as man should judge man. As the saw saith, ‘We all lie +alike in our graves.’ From the first moment I saw this Sibyll Warner I +loved her. Yes; smile disdainfully, but listen still. She was obscure +and in distress. I loved her not for her fair looks alone; I loved her +for her good gifts, for her patient industry, for her filial duty, for +her struggles to give bread to her father’s board. I did not say to +myself, ‘This girl will make a comely fere, a delicate paramour!’ I +said, ‘This good daughter will make a wife whom an honest man may take +to his heart and cherish!’” Poor Alwyn stopped, with tears in his +voice, struggled with his emotions, and pursued: “My fortunes were more +promising than hers; there was no cause why I might not hope. True, I +had a rival then; young as myself, better born, comelier; but she loved +him not. I foresaw that his love for her--if love it were--would cease. +Methought that her mind would understand mine; as mine--verily I say +it--yearned for hers! I could not look on the maidens of mine own rank, +and who had lived around me, but what--oh, no, my lord, again I say, not +the beauty, but the gifts, the mind, the heart of Sibyll, threw them +all into the shade. You may think it strange that I--a plain, steadfast, +trading, working, careful man--should have all these feelings; but I +will tell you wherefore such as I sometimes have them, nurse them, brood +on them, more than you lords and gentlemen, with all your graceful arts +in pleasing. We know no light loves! no brief distractions to the one +arch passion! We sober sons of the stall and the ware are no general +gallants,--we love plainly, we love but once, and we love heartily. But +who knows not the proverb, ‘What’s a gentleman but his pleasure?’--and +what’s pleasure but change? When Sibyll came to the palace, I soon heard +her name linked with yours; I saw her cheek blush when you spoke. Well, +well, well! after all, as the old wives tell us, ‘Blushing is virtue’s +livery.’ I said, ‘She is a chaste and high-hearted girl.’ This will +pass, and the time will come when she can compare your love and mine. +Now, my lord, the time has come. I know that you seek her. Yea, at +this moment, I know that her heart beats for your footstep. Say but +one word,--say that you love Sibyll Warner with the thought of wedding +her,--say that, on your honour, noble Hastings, as gentleman and peer, +and I will kneel at your feet, and beg your pardon for my vain follies, +and go back to my ware, and work, and not repine. Say it! You are +silent? Then I implore you, still as peer and gentleman, to let the +honest love save the maiden from the wooing that will blight her +peace and blast her name! And now, Lord Hastings, I wait your gracious +answer.” + +The sensations experienced by Hastings, as Alwyn thus concluded, were +manifold and complicated; but, at the first, admiration and pity were +the strongest. + +“My poor friend,” said he, kindly, “if you thus love a demoiselle +deserving all my reverence, your words and your thoughts bespeak you no +unworthy pretender; but take my counsel, good Alwyn. Come not--thou from +the Chepe--come not to the court for a wife. Forget this fantasy.” + +“My lord, it is impossible! Forget I cannot, regret I may. + +“Thou canst not succeed, man,” resumed the nobleman, more coldly, +“nor couldst if William Hastings had never lived. The eyes of women +accustomed to gaze on the gorgeous externals of the world are blinded +to plain worth like thine. It might have been different had the donzell +never abided in a palace; but as it is, brave fellow, learn how these +wounds of the heart scar over, and the spot becomes hard and callous +evermore. What art thou, Master Nicholas Alwyn,” continued Hastings, +gloomily, and with a withering smile--“what art thou, to ask for a bliss +denied to me--to all of us,--the bliss of carrying poetry into life, +youth into manhood, by winning--the FIRST LOVED? But think not, sir +lover, that I say this in jealousy or disparagement. Look yonder, by the +leafless elm, the white robe of Sibyll Warner. Go and plead thy suit.” + +“Do I understand you, my lord?” said Alwyn, somewhat confused and +perplexed by the tone and the manner Hastings adopted. “Does report err, +and you do not love this maiden?” + +“Fair master,” returned Hastings, scornfully, “thou hast no right that +I trow of to pry into my thoughts and secrets; I cannot acknowledge +my judge in thee, good jeweller and goldsmith,--enough, surely, in all +courtesy, that I yield thee the precedence. Tell thy tale, as movingly, +if thou wilt, as thou hast told it to me; say of me all that thou +fanciest thou hast reason to suspect; and if, Master Alwyn, thou woo and +win the lady, fail not to ask me to thy wedding!” + +There was in this speech and the bearing of the speaker that superb +levity, that inexpressible and conscious superiority, that cold, +ironical tranquillity, which awe and humble men more than grave disdain +or imperious passion. Alwyn ground his teeth as he listened, and gazed +in silent despair and rage upon the calm lord. Neither of these men +could strictly be called handsome. Of the two, Alwyn had the advantage +of more youthful prime, of a taller stature, of a more powerful, though +less supple and graceful, frame. In their very dress, there was little +of that marked distinction between classes which then usually prevailed, +for the dark cloth tunic and surcoat of Hastings made a costume even +simpler than the bright-coloured garb of the trader, with its broad +trimmings of fur, and its aiglettes of elaborate lace. Between man +and man, then, where was the visible, the mighty, the insurmountable +difference in all that can charm the fancy and captivate the eye, which, +as he gazed, Alwyn confessed to himself there existed between the two? +Alas! how the distinctions least to be analyzed are ever the sternest! +What lofty ease in that high-bred air; what histories of triumph seemed +to speak in that quiet eye, sleeping in its own imperious lustre; what +magic of command in that pale brow; what spells of persuasion in that +artful lip! Alwyn muttered to himself, bowed his head involuntarily, and +passed on at once from Hastings to Sibyll, who now, at the distance of +some yards, had arrested her steps, in surprise to see the conference +between the nobleman and the burgher. + +But as he approached Sibyll, poor Alwyn felt all the firmness and +courage he had exhibited with Hastings melt away. And the trepidation +which a fearful but deep affection ever occasions in men of his +character, made his movements more than usually constrained and awkward, +as he cowered beneath the looks of the maid he so truly loved. + +“Seekest thou me, Master Alwyn?” asked Sibyll, gently, seeing that, +though he paused by her side, he spoke not. + +“I do,” returned Alwyn, abruptly, and again he was silent. At length, +lifting his eyes and looking round him, he saw Hastings at the distance, +leaning against the rampart, with folded arms; and the contrast of his +rival’s cold and arrogant indifference, and his own burning veins and +bleeding heart, roused up his manly spirit, and gave to his tongue the +eloquence which emotion gains when it once breaks the fetters it forges +for itself. + +“Look, look, Sibyll!” he said, pointing to Hastings “look! that man you +believe loves you. If so--if he loved thee,--would he stand yonder--mark +him--aloof, contemptuous, careless--while he knew that I was by your +side?” + +Sibyll turned upon the goldsmith eyes full of innocent surprise,--eyes +that asked, plainly as eyes could speak, “And wherefore not, Master +Alwyn?” + +Alwyn so interpreted the look, and replied, as if she had spoken: +“Because he must know how poor and tame is that feeble fantasy which +alone can come from a soul worn bare with pleasure, to that which I +feel and now own for thee,--the love of youth, born of the heart’s first +vigour; because he ought to fear that that love should prevail with +thee; because that love ought to prevail. Sibyll, between us there are +not imparity and obstacle. Oh, listen to me,--listen still! Frown not, +turn not away.” And, stung and animated by the sight of his rival, fired +by the excitement of a contest on which the bliss of his own life and +the weal of Sibyll’s might depend, his voice was as the cry of a mortal +agony, and affected the girl to the inmost recesses of her soul. “Oh, +Alwyn, I frown not!” she said sweetly; “oh, Alwyn, I turn not away! Woe +is me to give pain to so kind and brave a heart; but--” + +“No, speak not yet. I have studied thee, I have read thee as a scholar +would read a book. I know thee proud; I know thee aspiring; I know thou +art vain of thy gentle blood, and distasteful of my yeoman’s birth. +There, I am not blind to thy faults, but I love thee despite them; and +to please those faults I have toiled, schemed, dreamed, risen. I offer +to thee the future with the certainty of a man who can command it. +Wouldst thou wealth?--be patient (as ambition ever is): in a few years +thou shalt have more gold than the wife of Lord Hastings can command; +thou shalt lodge more statelily, fare more sumptuously; [This was no +vain promise of Master Alwyn. At that time a successful trader made a +fortune with signal rapidity, and enjoyed greater luxuries than most of +the barons. All the gold in the country flowed into the coffers of +the London merchants.] thou shalt walk on cloth-of-gold if thou wilt! +Wouldst thou titles?--I will win them. Richard de la Pole, who founded +the greatest duchy in the realm, was poorer than I, when he first served +in a merchant’s ware. Gold buys all things now. Oh, would to Heaven it +could but buy me thee!” + +“Master Alwyn, it is not gold that buys love. Be soothed. What can I say +to thee to soften the harsh word ‘Nay’?” + +“You reject me, then, and at once? I ask not your hand now. I will wait, +tarry, hope,--I care not if for years; wait till I can fulfil all I +promise thee!” + +Sibyll, affected to tears, shook her head mournfully; and there was a +long and painful silence. Never was wooing more strangely circumstanced +than this,--the one lover pleading while the other was in view; the one, +ardent, impassioned, the other, calm and passive; and the silence of the +last, alas! having all the success which the words of the other lacked. +It might be said that the choice before Sibyll was a type of the choice +ever given, but in vain, to the child of genius. Here a secure and +peaceful life, an honoured home, a tranquil lot, free from ideal +visions, it is true, but free also from the doubt and the terror, the +storms of passion; there, the fatal influence of an affection, born of +imagination, sinister, equivocal, ominous, but irresistible. And the +child of genius fulfilled her destiny! + +“Master Alwyn,” said Sibyll, rousing herself to the necessary exertion, +“I shall never cease gratefully to recall thy generous friendship, never +cease to pray fervently for thy weal below. But forever and forever let +this content thee,--I can no more.” + +Impressed by the grave and solemn tone of Sibyll, Alwyn hushed the groan +that struggled to his lips, and gloomily replied: “I obey you, fair +mistress, and I return to my workday life; but ere I go, I pray you +misthink me not if I say this much: not alone for the bliss of hoping +for a day in which I might call thee mine have I thus importuned, but, +not less--I swear not less--from the soul’s desire to save thee from +what I fear will but lead to woe and wayment, to peril and pain, to +weary days and sleepless nights. ‘Better a little fire that warms than +a great that burns.’ Dost thou think that Lord Hastings, the vain, the +dissolute--” + +“Cease, sir!” said Sibyll, proudly; “me reprove if thou wilt, but lower +not my esteem for thee by slander against another!” + +“What!” said Alwyn, bitterly; “doth even one word of counsel chafe thee? +I tell thee that if thou dreamest that Lord Hastings loves Sibyll Warner +as man loves the maiden he would wed, thou deceivest thyself to thine +own misery. If thou wouldst prove it, go to him now,--go and say, ‘Wilt +thou give me that home of peace and honour, that shelter for my father’s +old age under a son’s roof which the trader I despise proffers me in +vain?” + +“If it were already proffered me--by him?” said Sibyll, in a low voice, +and blushing deeply. + +Alwyn started. “Then I wronged him; and--and--” he added generously, +though with a faint sickness at his heart, “I can yet be happy in +thinking thou art so. Farewell, maiden, the saints guard thee from one +memory of regret at what hath passed between us!” + +He pulled his bonnet hastily over his brows, and departed with unequal +and rapid strides. As he passed the spot where Hastings stood leaning +his arm upon the wall, and his face upon his hand, the nobleman looked +up, and said,-- + +“Well, Sir Goldsmith, own at least that thy trial hath been a fair one!” + Then struck with the anguish written upon Alwyn’s face, he walked up +to him, and, with a frank, compassionate impulse, laid his hand on +his shoulder. “Alwyn,” he said, “I have felt what you feel now; I have +survived it, and the world hath not prospered with me less! Take with +you a compassion that respects, and does not degrade you.” + +“Do not deceive her, my lord,--she trusts and loves you! You never +deceived man,--the wide world says it,--do not deceive woman! Deeds kill +men, words women!” Speaking thus simply, Alwyn strode on, and vanished. + +Hastings slowly and silently advanced to Sibyll. Her rejection of Alwyn +had by no means tended to reconcile him to the marriage he himself had +proffered. He might well suppose that the girl, even if unguided by +affection, would not hesitate between a mighty nobleman and an obscure +goldsmith. His pride was sorely wounded that the latter should have even +thought himself the equal of one whom he had proposed, though but in +a passionate impulse, to raise to his own state. And yet as he neared +Sibyll, and, with a light footstep, she sprang forward to meet him, her +eyes full of sweet joy and confidence, he shrank from an avowal which +must wither up a heart opening thus all its bloom of youth and love to +greet him. + +“Ah, fair lord,” said the maiden, “was it kindly in thee to permit +poor Alwyn to inflict on me so sharp a pain, and thou to stand calmly +distant? Sure, alas! that had thy humble rival proffered a crown, it had +been the same to Sibyll! Oh, how the grief it was mine to cause +grieved me; and yet, through all, I had one selfish, guilty gleam of +pleasure,--to think that I had not been loved so well, if I were all +unworthy the sole love I desire or covet!” + +“And yet, Sibyll, this young man can in all, save wealth and a sounding +name, give thee more than I can,--a heart undarkened by moody memories, +a temper unsoured by the world’s dread and bitter lore of man’s frailty +and earth’s sorrow. Ye are not far separated by ungenial years, and +might glide to a common grave hand in hand; but I, older in heart than +in age, am yet so far thine elder in the last, that these hairs will +be gray, and this form bent, while thy beauty is in its prime, and--but +thou weepest!” + +“I weep that thou shouldst bring one thought of time to sadden my +thoughts, which are of eternity. Love knows no age, it foresees no +grave! its happiness and its trust behold on the earth but one glory, +melting into the hues of heaven, where they who love lastingly pass +calmly on to live forever! See, I weep not now!” + +“And did not this honest burgher,” pursued Hastings, softened and +embarrassed, but striving to retain his cruel purpose, “tell thee to +distrust me; tell thee that my vows were false?” + +“Methinks, if an angel told me so, I should disbelieve!” + +“Why, look thee, Sibyll, suppose his warning true; suppose that at this +hour I sought thee with intent to say that that destiny which ambition +weaves for itself forbade me to fulfil a word hotly spoken; that I could +not wed thee,--should I not seem to thee a false wooer, a poor trifler +with thy earnest heart; and so, couldst thou not recall the love of him +whose truer and worthier homage yet lingers in thine ear, and with him +be happy?” + +Sibyll lifted her dark eyes, yet humid, upon the unrevealing face of +the speaker, and gazed on him with wistful and inquiring sadness; then, +shrinking from his side, she crossed her arms meekly on her bosom, and +thus said,-- + +“If ever, since we parted, one such thought hath glanced across +thee--one thought of repentance at the sacrifice of pride, or the +lessening of power--which (she faltered, broke off the sentence, and +resumed)--in one word, if thou wouldst retract, say it now, and I will +not accuse thy falsehood, but bless thy truth.” + +“Thou couldst be consoled, then, by thy pride of woman, for the loss of +an unworthy lover?” + +“My lord, are these questions fair?” + +Hastings was silent. The gentler part of his nature struggled severely +with the harder. The pride of Sibyll moved him no less than her trust; +and her love in both was so evident, so deep, so exquisitely contrasting +the cold and frivolous natures amidst which his lot had fallen, that +he recoiled from casting away forever a heart never to be replaced. +Standing on that bridge of life, with age before and youth behind, he +felt that never again could he be so loved, or, if so loved by one so +worthy of whatever of pure affection, of young romance, was yet left to +his melancholy and lonely soul. + +He took her hand, and, as she felt its touch, her firmness forsook her, +her head drooped upon her bosom, and she burst into an agony of tears. + +“Oh, Sibyll, forgive me! Smile on me again, Sibyll!” exclaimed Hastings, +subdued and melted. But, alas! the heart once bruised and galled +recovers itself but slowly, and it was many minutes before the softest +words the eloquent lover could shape to sound sufficed to dry those +burning tears, and bring back the enchanting smile,--nay, even then the +smile was forced and joyless. They walked on for some moments, both in +thought, till Hastings said: “Thou lovest me, Sibyll, and art worthy of +all the love that man can feel for maid; and yet, canst thou solve me +this question, nor chide me that I ask it, Dost thou not love the world +and the world’s judgments more than me? What is that which women call +honour? What makes them shrink from all love that takes not the form and +circumstance of the world’s hollow rites? Does love cease to be love, +unless over its wealth of trust and emotion the priest mouths his empty +blessing? Thou in thy graceful pride art angered if I, in wedding thee, +should remember the sacrifice which men like me--I own it fairly--deem +as great as man can make; and yet thou wouldst fly my love if it wooed +thee to a sacrifice of thine own.” + +Artfully was the question put, and Hastings smiled to himself in +imagining the reply it must bring; and then Sibyll answered, with the +blush which the very subject called forth, + +“Alas, my lord, I am but a poor casuist, but I feel that if I asked thee +to forfeit whatever men respect,--honour and repute for valour, to be +traitor and dastard,--thou couldst love me no more; and marvel you if, +when man woos woman to forfeit all that her sex holds highest,--to be in +woman what dastard and traitor is in man,--she hears her conscience +and her God speak in a louder voice than can come from a human lip? The +goods and pomps of the world we are free to sacrifice, and true love +heeds and counts them not; but true love cannot sacrifice that which +makes up love,--it cannot sacrifice the right to be loved below; the +hope to love on in the realm above; the power to pray with a pure soul +for the happiness it yearns to make; the blessing to seem ever good and +honoured in the eyes of the one by whom alone it would be judged. And +therefore, sweet lord, true love never contemplates this sacrifice; and +if once it believes itself truly loved, it trusts with a fearless faith +in the love on which it leans.” + +“Sibyll, would to Heaven I had seen thee in my youth! Would to Heaven I +were more worthy of thee!” And in that interview Hastings had no +heart to utter what he had resolved, “Sibyll, I sought thee but to say +Farewell.” + + + + +CHAPTER VI. WARWICK RETURNS--APPEASES A DISCONTENTED PRINCE--AND CONFERS +WITH A REVENGEFUL CONSPIRATOR. + +It was not till late in the evening that Warwick arrived at his vast +residence in London, where he found not only Marmaduke Nevile ready to +receive him, but a more august expectant, in George Duke of Clarence. +Scarcely had the earl crossed the threshold, when the duke seized his +arm, and leading him into the room that adjoined the hall, said,-- + +“Verily, Edward is besotted no less than ever by his wife’s leech-like +family. Thou knowest my appointment to the government of Ireland; +Isabel, like myself, cannot endure the subordinate vassalage we must +brook at the court, with the queen’s cold looks and sour words. Thou +knowest, also, with what vain pretexts Edward has put me of; and now, +this very day, he tells me that he hath changed his humour,--that I +am not stern enough for the Irish kernes; that he loves me too well to +banish me, forsooth; and that Worcester, the people’s butcher but the +queen’s favourite, must have the post so sacredly pledged to me. I see +in this Elizabeth’s crafty malice. Is this struggle between king’s blood +and queen’s kith to go on forever?” + +“Calm thyself, George; I will confer with the king tomorrow, and hope +to compass thy not too arrogant desire. Certes, a king’s brother is +the fittest vice-king for the turbulent kernes of Ireland, who are +ever flattered into obeisance by ceremony and show. The government was +pledged to thee--Edward can scarcely be serious. Moreover, Worcester, +though forsooth a learned man--Mort-Dieu! methinks that same learning +fills the head to drain the heart!--is so abhorred for his cruelties +that his very landing in Ireland will bring a new rebellion to add to +our already festering broils and sores. Calm thyself, I say. Where didst +thou leave Isabel?” + +“With my mother.” + +“And Anne?--the queen chills not her young heart with cold grace?” + +“Nay, the queen dare not unleash her malice against Edward’s will; and, +to do him justice, he hath shown all honour to Lord Warwick’s daughter.” + +“He is a gallant prince, with all his faults,” said the father, +heartily, “and we must bear with him, George; for verily he hath bound +men by a charm to love him. Stay thou and share my hasty repast, and +over the wine we will talk of thy views. Spare me now for a moment; +I have to prepare work eno’ for a sleepless night. This Lincolnshire +rebellion promises much trouble. Lord Willoughby has joined it; more +than twenty thousand men are in arms. I have already sent to convene the +knights and barons on whom the king can best depend, and must urge their +instant departure for their halls, to raise men and meet the foe. While +Edward feasts, his minister must toil. Tarry a while till I return.” The +earl re-entered the hall, and beckoned to Marmaduke, who stood amongst a +group of squires. + +“Follow me; I may have work for thee.” Warwick took a taper from one of +the servitors, and led the way to his own more private apartment. On the +landing of the staircase, by a small door, stood his body-squire--“Is +the prisoner within?” + +“Yes, my lord.” + +“Good!”--The earl opened the door by which the squire had mounted guard, +and bade Marmaduke wait without. + +The inmate of the chamber, whose dress bore the stains of fresh travel +and hard riding, lifted his face hastily as the earl entered. + +“Robin Hilyard,” said Warwick, “I have mused much how to reconcile my +service to the king with the gratitude I owe to a man who saved me from +great danger. In the midst of thy unhappy and rebellious designs thou +wert captured and brought to me; the papers found on thee attest a +Lancastrian revolt, so ripening towards a mighty gathering, and so +formidable from the adherents whom the gold and intrigues of King Louis +have persuaded to risk land and life for the Red Rose, that all the +king’s friends can do to save his throne is now needed. In this revolt +thou hast been the scheming brain, the master hand, the match to the +bombard, the fire brand to the flax. Thou smilest, man! Alas! seest thou +not that it is my stern duty to send thee bound hand and foot before the +king’s council, for the brake to wring from thee thy guilty secrets, and +the gibbet to close thy days?” + +“I am prepared,” said Hilyard; “when the bombard explodes, the match +has become useless; when the flame smites the welkin, the firebrand is +consumed!” + +“Bold man! what seest thou in this rebellion that can profit thee?” + +“I see, looming through the chasms and rents made in the feudal order by +civil war, the giant image of a free people.” + +“And thou wouldst be a martyr for the multitude, who deserted thee at +Olney?” + +“As thou for the king who dishonoured thee at Shene!” + +Warwick frowned, and there was a moment’s pause; at last, said the earl: +“Look you, Robin, I would fain not have on my hands the blood of a man +who saved my life. I believe thee, though a fanatic and half madman,--I +believe thee true in word as rash of deed. Swear to me on the cross +of this dagger that thou wilt lay aside all scheme and plot for this +rebellion, all aid and share in civil broil and dissension, and thy life +and liberty are restored to thee. In that intent, I have summoned my own +kinsman, Marmaduke Nevile. He waits without the door; he shall conduct +thee safely to the seashore; thou shalt gain in peace my government +of Calais, and my seneschal there shall find thee all thou canst +need,--meat for thy hunger and moneys for thy pastime. Accept my mercy, +take the oath, and begone.” + +“My lord,” answered Hilyard, much touched and affected, “blame not +thyself if this carcass feed the crows--my blood be on mine own head! +I cannot take this oath; I cannot live in peace; strife and broil are +grown to me food and drink. Oh, my lord! thou knowest not what dark and +baleful memories made me an agent in God’s hand against this ruthless +Edward!” and then passionately, with whitening lips and convulsive +features, Hilyard recounted to the startled Warwick the same tale which +had roused the sympathy of Adam Warner. + +The earl, whose affections were so essentially homely and domestic, was +even more shocked than the scholar by the fearful narrative. + +“Unhappy man!” he said with moistened eyes, “from the core of my heart +I pity thee. But thou, the scathed sufferer from civil war, wilt thou be +now its dread reviver?” + +“If Edward had wronged thee, great earl, as me, poor franklin, what +would be thine answer? In vain moralize to him whom the spectre of a +murdered child and the shriek of a maniac wife haunt and hound on to +vengeance! So send me to rack and halter. Be there one curse more on the +soul of Edward!” + +“Thou shalt not die through my witness,” said the earl, abruptly; and he +quitted the chamber. + +Securing the door by a heavy bolt on the outside, he gave orders to his +squire to attend to the comforts of the prisoner; and then turning into +his closet with Marmaduke, said: “I sent for thee, young cousin, with +design to commit to thy charge one whose absence from England I deemed +needful--that design I must abandon. Go back to the palace, and see, +if thou canst, the king before he sleeps; say that this rising +in Lincolnshire is more than a riot,--it is the first burst of a +revolution! that I hold council here to-night, and every shire, ere +the morrow, shall have its appointed captain. I will see the king at +morning. Yet stay--gain sight of my child Anne; she will leave the court +to-morrow. I will come for her; bid her train be prepared; she and the +countess must away to Calais,--England again hath ceased to be a home +for women! What to do with this poor rebel?” muttered the earl, when +alone; “release him I cannot; slay him I will not. Hum, there is space +enough in these walls to inclose a captive.” + + + + +CHAPTER VII. THE FEAR AND THE FLIGHT. + +King Edward feasted high, and Sibyll sat in her father’s chamber,--she +silent with thought of love, Adam silent in the toils of science. The +Eureka was well-nigh finished, rising from its ruins more perfect, more +elaborate, than before. Maiden and scholar, each seeming near to the +cherished goal,--one to love’s genial altar, the other to fame’s lonely +shrine. + +Evening advanced, night began, night deepened. King Edward’s feast was +over, but still in his perfumed chamber the wine sparkled in the golden +cup. It was announced to him that Sir Marmaduke Nevile, just arrived +from the earl’s house, craved an audience. The king, pre-occupied in +deep revery, impatiently postponed it till the morrow. + +“To-morrow,” said the gentleman in attendance, “Sir Marmaduke bids me +say, fearful that the late hour would forbid his audience, that +Lord Warwick himself will visit your Grace. I fear, sire, that the +disturbances are great indeed, for the squires and gentlemen in Lady +Anne’s train have orders to accompany her to Calais to-morrow.” + +“To-morrow, to-morrow!” repeated the king--“well, sir, you are +dismissed.” + +The Lady Anne (to whom Sibyll had previously communicated the king’s +kindly consideration for Master Warner) had just seen Marmaduke, and +learned the new dangers that awaited the throne and the realm. The +Lancastrians were then openly in arms for the prince of her love, and +against her mighty father! + +The Lady Anne sat a while, sorrowful and musing, and then, before yon +crucifix, the Lady Anne knelt in prayer. Sir Marmaduke Nevile descends +to the court below, and some three or four busy, curious gentlemen, not +yet a-bed, seize him by the arm, and pray him to say what storm is in +the wind. + +The night deepened still. The wine is drained in King Edward’s goblet; +King Edward has left his chamber; and Sibyll, entreating her father, but +in vain, to suspend his toil, has kissed the damps from his brow, and +is about to retire to her neighbouring room. She has turned to the +threshold, when, hark! a faint--a distant cry, a woman’s shriek, the +noise of a clapping door! The voice--it is the voice of Anne! Sibyll +passed the threshold, she is in the corridor; the winter moon shines +through the open arches, the air is white and cold with frost. Suddenly +the door at the farther end is thrown wide open, a form rushes into the +corridor, it passes Sibyll, halts, turns round. “Oh, Sibyll!” cried the +Lady Anne, in a voice wild with horror, “save me--aid--help! Merciful +Heaven, the king!” + +Instinctively, wonderingly, tremblingly, Sibyll drew Anne into the +chamber she had just quitted, and as they gained its shelter, as Anne +sank upon the floor, the gleam of cloth-of-gold flashed through the dim +atmosphere, and Edward, yet in the royal robe in which he had dazzled +all the eyes at his kingly feast, stood within the chamber. His +countenance was agitated with passion, and its clear hues flushed red +with wine. At his entrance Anne sprang from the floor, and rushed to +Warner, who, in dumb bewilderment, had suspended his task, and stood +before the Eureka, from which steamed and rushed the dark, rapid smoke, +while round and round, labouring and groaning, rolled its fairy wheels. +[The gentle reader will doubtless bear in mind that Master Warner’s +complicated model had but little resemblance to the models of the +steam-engine in our own day, and that it was usually connected with +other contrivances, for the better display of the principle it was +intended to illustrate.] + +“Sir,” cried Anne, clinging to him convulsively, “you are a father; by +your child’s soul, protect Lord Warwick’s daughter!” + +Roused from his abstraction by this appeal, the poor scholar wound +his arm round the form thus clinging to him, and raising his head with +dignity, replied, “Thy name, youth, and sex protect thee!” + +“Unhand that lady, vile sorcerer,” exclaimed the king, “I am her +protector. Come, Anne, sweet Anne, fair lady, thou mistakest,--come!” he +whispered. “Give not to these low natures matter for guesses that do but +shame thee. Let thy king and cousin lead thee back to thy sweet rest.” + +He sought, though gently, to loosen the arms that wound themselves +round the old man; but Anne, not heeding, not listening, distracted by +a terror that seemed to shake her whole frame and to threaten her very +reason, continued to cry out loudly upon her father’s name,--her great +father, wakeful, then, for the baffled ravisher’s tottering throne! + +Edward had still sufficient possession of his reason to be alarmed lest +some loiterer or sentry in the outer court might hear the cries which +his attempts to soothe but the more provoked. Grinding his teeth, and +losing patience, he said to Adam, “Thou knowest me, friend,--I am thy +king. Since the Lady Anne, in her bewilderment, prefers thine aid to +mine, help to bear her back to her apartment; and thou, young mistress, +lend thine arm. This wizard’s den is no fit chamber for our high-born +guest.” + +“No, no; drive me not hence, Master Warner--that man--that king--give me +not up to his--his--” + +“Beware!” exclaimed the king. + +It was not till now that Adam’s simple mind comprehended the true cause +of Anne’s alarm, which Sibyll still conjectured not, but stood trembling +by her friend’s side, and close to her father. + +“Do not fear, maiden;” said Adam Warner, laying his hand upon the +loosened locks that swept over his bosom, “for though I am old and +feeble, God and his angels are in every spot where virtue trembles and +resists. My lord king, thy sceptre extends not over a human soul!” + +“Dotard, prate not to me!” said Edward, laying his hand on his dagger. +Sibyll saw the movement, and instinctively placed herself between her +father and the king. That slight form, those pure, steadfast eyes, those +features, noble at once and delicate, recalled to Edward the awe which +had seized him in his first dark design; and again that awe came over +him. He retreated. + +“I mean harm to none,” said he, almost submissively; “and if I am so +unhappy as to scare with my presence the Lady Anne, I will retire, +praying you, donzell, to see to her state, and lead her back to her +chamber when it so pleases herself. Saying this much, I command you, old +man, and you, maiden, to stand back while I but address one sentence to +the Lady Anne.” + +With these words he gently advanced to Anne, and took her hand; but, +snatching it from him, the poor lady broke from Adam, rushed to the +casement, opened it, and seeing some figures indistinct and distant in +the court below, she called out in a voice of such sharp agony that it +struck remorse and even terror into Edward’s soul. + +“Alas!” he muttered, “she will not listen to me! her mind is distraught! +What frenzy has been mine! Pardon--pardon, Anne,--oh, pardon!” + +Adam Warner laid his hand on the king’s arm, and he drew the imperious +despot away as easily as a nurse leads a docile child. + +“King!” said the brave old man, “may God pardon thee; for if the last +evil hath been wrought upon this noble lady, David sinned not more +heavily than thou.” + +“She is pure, inviolate,--I swear it!” said the king, humbly. “Anne, +only say that I am forgiven.” + +But Anne spoke not: her eyes were fixed, her lips had fallen; she was +insensible as a corpse,--dumb and frozen with her ineffable dread. +Suddenly steps were heard upon the stairs; the door opened, and +Marmaduke Nevile entered abruptly. + +“Surely I heard my lady’s voice,--surely! What marvel this?--the king! +Pardon, my liege!” and he bent his knee. + +The sight of Marmaduke dissolved the spell of awe and repentant +humiliation which had chained a king’s dauntless heart. His wonted guile +returned to him with his self-possession. + +“Our wise craftsman’s strange and weird invention”--and Edward pointed +to the Eureka--“has scared our fair cousin’s senses, as, by sweet Saint +George, it well might! Go back, Sir Marmaduke, we will leave Lady Anne +for the moment to the care of Mistress Sibyll. Donzell, remember my +command. Come, sir”--(and he drew the wondering Marmaduke from the +chamber); but as soon as he had seen the knight descend the stairs and +regain the court, he returned to the room, and in a low, stern voice, +said, “Look you, Master Warner, and you, damsel, if ever either of +ye breathe one word of what has been your dangerous fate to hear and +witness, kings have but one way to punish slanderers, and silence but +one safeguard!--trifle not with death!” + +He then closed the door, and resought his own chamber. The Eastern +spices, which were burned in the sleeping-rooms of the great, still made +the air heavy with their feverish fragrance. The king seated himself, +and strove to recollect his thoughts, and examine the peril he had +provoked. The resistance and the terror of Anne had effectually banished +from his heart the guilty passion it had before harboured; for emotions +like his, and in such a nature, are quick of change. His prevailing +feeling was one of sharp repentance and reproachful shame. But as he +roused himself from a state of mind which light characters ever seek +to escape, the image of the dark-browed earl rose before him, and fear +succeeded to mortification; but even this, however well-founded, could +not endure long in a disposition so essentially scornful of all danger. +Before morning the senses of Anne must return to her. So gentle a bosom +could be surely reasoned out of resentment, or daunted, at least, from +betraying to her stern father a secret that, if told, would smear the +sward of England with the gore of thousands. What woman will provoke war +and bloodshed? And for an evil not wrought, for a purpose not fulfilled? +The king was grateful that his victim had escaped him. He would see Anne +before the earl could, and appease her anger, obtain her silence! For +Warner and for Sibyll, they would not dare to reveal; and, if they did, +the lips that accuse a king soon belie themselves, while a rack can +torture truth, and the doomsman be the only judge between the subject +and the head that wears a crown. + +Thus reasoning with himself, his soul faced the solitude. Meanwhile +Marmaduke regained the courtyard, where, as we have said, he had been +detained in conferring with some of the gentlemen in the king’s service, +who, hearing that he brought important tidings from the earl, had +abstained from rest till they could learn if the progress of the new +rebellion would bring their swords into immediate service. Marmaduke, +pleased to be of importance, had willingly satisfied their curiosity, +as far as he was able, and was just about to retire to his own chamber, +when the cry of Anne had made him enter the postern-door which led up +the stairs to Adam’s apartment, and which was fortunately not locked; +and now, on returning, he had again a new curiosity to allay. Having +briefly said that Master Warner had taken that untoward hour to frighten +the women with a machine that vomited smoke and howled piteously, +Marmaduke dismissed the group to their beds, and was about to seek his +own, when, looking once more towards the casement, he saw a white hand +gleaming in the frosty moonlight, and beckoning to him. + +The knight crossed himself, and reluctantly ascended the stairs, and +re-entered the wizard’s den. + +The Lady Anne had so far recovered herself, that a kind of unnatural +calm had taken possession of her mind, and changed her ordinary sweet +and tractable nature into one stern, obstinate resolution,--to escape, +if possible, that unholy palace. And as soon as Marmaduke re-entered, +Anne met him at the threshold, and laying her hand convulsively on his +arm, said, “By the name you bear, by your love to my father, aid me to +quit these walls.” + +In great astonishment, Marmaduke stared, without reply. “Do you deny me, +sir?” said Anne, almost sternly. + +“Lady and mistress mine,” answered Marmaduke, “I am your servant in all +things. Quit these walls, the palace!--How?--the gates are closed. Nay, +and what would my lord say, if at night--” + +“If at night!” repeated Anne, in a hollow voice; and then pausing, burst +into a terrible laugh. Recovering herself abruptly, she moved to the +door, “I will go forth alone, and trust in God and Our Lady.” + +Sibyll sprang forward to arrest her steps, and Marmaduke hastened to +Adam, and whispered, “Poor lady, is her mind unsettled? Hast thou, in +truth, distracted her with thy spells and glamour?” + +“Hush!” answered the old man; and he whispered in Nevile’s ear. + +Scarcely had the knight caught the words, than his cheek paled, his +eyes flashed fire. “The great earl’s daughter!” he exclaimed. +“Infamy--horror--she is right!” He broke from the student, approached +Anne, who still struggled with Sibyll, and kneeling before her, said, in +a voice choked with passions at once fierce and tender,-- + +“Lady, you are right. Unseemly it may be for one of your quality and +sex to quit this place with me, and alone; but at least I have a man’s +heart, a knight’s honour. Trust to me your safety, noble maiden, and +I will cut your way, even through yon foul king’s heart, to your great +father’s side!” + +Anne did not seem quite to understand his words; but she smiled on him +as he knelt, and gave him her hand. The responsibility he had assumed +quickened all the intellect of the young knight. As he took and kissed +the hand extended to him, he felt the ring upon his finger,--the ring +intrusted to him by Alwyn, the king’s signet-ring, before which would +fly open every gate. He uttered a joyous exclamation, loosened his long +night-cloak, and praying Anne to envelop her form in its folds, drew +the hood over her head; he was about to lead her forth when he halted +suddenly. + +“Alack,” said he, turning to Sibyll, “even though we may escape the +Tower, no boatman now can be found on the river. The way through the +streets is dark and perilous, and beset with midnight ruffians.” + +“Verily,” said Warner, “the danger is past now. Let the noble demoiselle +rest here till morning. The king dare not again--” + +“Dare not!” interrupted Marmaduke. “Alas! you little know King Edward.” + +At that name Anne shuddered, opened the door, and hurried down the +stairs; Sibyll and Marmaduke followed her. + +“Listen, Sir Marmaduke,” said Sibyll. “Close without the Tower is the +house of a noble lady, the dame of Longueville, where Anne may rest +in safety, while you seek Lord Warwick. I will go with you, if you can +obtain egress for us both.” + +“Brave damsel!” said Marmaduke, with emotion; “but your own safety--the +king’s anger--no--besides a third, your dress not concealed, would +create the warder’s suspicion. Describe the house.” + +“The third to the left, by the river’s side, with an arched porch, and +the fleur-de-lis embossed on the walls.” + +“It is not so dark but we shall find it. Fare you well, gentle +mistress.” + +While they yet spoke, they had both reached the side of Anne. Sibyll +still persisted in the wish to accompany her friend; but Marmaduke’s +representation of the peril to life itself that might befall her father, +if Edward learned she had abetted Anne’s escape, finally prevailed. The +knight and his charge gained the outer gate. + +“Haste, haste, Master Warder!” he cried, beating at the door with his +dagger till it opened jealously,--“messages of importance to the Lord +Warwick. We have the king’s signet. Open!” + +The sleepy warder glanced at the ring; the gates were opened; they were +without the fortress, they hurried on. “Cheer up, noble lady; you are +safe, you shall be avenged!” said Marmaduke, as he felt the steps of +his companion falter. But the reaction had come. The effort Anne had +hitherto made was for escape, for liberty; the strength ceased, the +object gained; her head drooped, she muttered a few incoherent words, +and then sense and life left her. Marmaduke paused in great perplexity +and alarm. But lo, a light in a house before him! That house the third +to the river,--the only one with the arched porch described by Sibyll. +He lifted the light and holy burden in his strong arms, he gained the +door; to his astonishment it was open; a light burned on the stairs; he +heard, in the upper room, the sound of whispered voices, and quick, soft +footsteps hurrying to and fro. Still bearing the insensible form of +his companion, he ascended the staircase, and entered at once upon +a chamber, in which, by a dim lamp, he saw some two or three persons +assembled round a bed in the recess. A grave man advanced to him, as he +paused at the threshold. + +“Whom seek you?” + +“The Lady Longueville.” + +“Hush?” + +“Who needs me?” said a faint voice, from the curtained recess. + +“My name is Nevile,” answered Marmaduke, with straightforward brevity. +“Mistress Sibyll Warner told me of this house, where I come for an +hour’s shelter to my companion, the Lady Anne, daughter of the Earl of +Warwick.” + +Marmaduke resigned his charge to an old woman, who was the nurse in that +sick-chamber, and who lifted the hood and chafed the pale, cold hands +of the young maiden; the knight then strode to the recess. The Lady of +Longueville was on the bed of death--an illness of two days had brought +her to the brink of the grave; but there was in her eye and countenance +a restless and preternatural animation, and her voice was clear and +shrill, as she said,-- + +“Why does the daughter of Warwick, the Yorkist, seek refuge in the house +of the fallen and childless Lancastrian?” + +“Swear by thy hopes in Christ that thou will tend and guard her while I +seek the earl, and I reply.” + +“Stranger, my name is Longueville, my birth noble,--those pledges of +hospitality and trust are stronger than hollow oaths. Say on!” + +“Because, then,” whispered the knight, after waving the bystanders +from the spot, “because the earl’s daughter flies dishonour in a king’s +palace, and her insulter is the king!” + +Before the dying woman could reply, Anne, recovered by the cares of the +experienced nurse, suddenly sprang to the recess, and kneeling by the +bedside, exclaimed wildly,--“Save me! bide me! save me!” + +“Go and seek the earl, whose right hand destroyed my house and his +lawful sovereign’s throne,--go! I will live till he arrives!” said +the childless widow, and a wild gleam of triumph shot over her haggard +features. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. THE GROUP ROUND THE DEATH-BED OF THE LANCASTRIAN WIDOW. + +The dawning sun gleamed through gray clouds upon a small troop of men, +armed in haste, who were grouped round a covered litter by the outer +door of the Lady Longueville’s house; while in the death-chamber, the +Earl of Warwick, with a face as pale as the dying woman’s, stood beside +the bed, Anne calmly leaning on his breast, her eyes closed, and tears +yet moist on her long fringes. + +“Ay, ay, ay!” said the Lancastrian noblewoman, “ye men of wrath and +turbulence should reap what ye have sown! This is the king for whom ye +dethroned the sainted Henry! this the man for whom ye poured forth the +blood of England’s best! Ha! ha! Look down from heaven, my husband, my +martyr-sons! The daughter of your mightiest foe flies to this lonely +hearth,--flies to the death-bed of the powerless woman for refuge from +the foul usurper whom that foe placed upon the throne!” + +“Spare me,” muttered Warwick, in a low voice, and between his grinded +teeth. The room had been cleared, and Dr. Godard (the grave man who had +first accosted Marmaduke, and who was the priest summoned to the dying) +alone--save the scarce conscious Anne herself--witnessed the ghastly and +awful conference. + +“Hush, daughter,” said the man of peace, lifting the solemn +crucifix,--“calm thyself to holier thoughts.” + +The lady impatiently turned from the priest, and grasping the strong +right arm of Warwick with her shrivelled and trembling fingers, resumed +in a voice that struggled to repress the gasps which broke its breath,-- + +“But thou--oh, thou wilt bear this indignity! thou, the chief of +England’s barons, wilt see no dishonour in the rank love of the vilest +of England’s kings! Oh, yes, ye Yorkists have the hearts of varlets, not +of men and fathers!” + +“By the symbol from which thou turnest, woman!” exclaimed the earl, +giving vent to the fury which the presence of death had before +suppressed, “by Him to whom, morning and night, I have knelt in grateful +blessing for the virtuous life of this beloved child, I will have such +revenge on the recreant whom I kinged, as shall live in the rolls of +England till the trump of the Judgment Angel!” + +“Father,” said Anne, startled by her father’s vehemence from her +half-swoon, half-sleep--“Father, think no more of the past,--take me to +my mother! I want the clasp of my mother’s arms!” + +“Leave us,--leave the dying, Sir Earl and son,” said Godard. “I too +am Lancastrian; I too would lay down my life for the holy Henry; but I +shudder, in the hour of death, to hear yon pale lips, that should pray +for pardon, preach to thee of revenge.” + +“Revenge!” shrieked out the dame of Longueville, as, sinking fast and +fast, she caught the word--“revenge! Thou hast sworn revenge on Edward +of York, Lord Warwick,--sworn it in the chamber of death, in the ear of +one who will carry that word to the hero-dead of a hundred battlefields! +Ha! the sun has risen! Priest--Godard--thine arms--support--raise--bear +me to the casement! Quick--quick! I would see my king once more! +Quick--quick! and then--then--I will hear thee pray!” + +The priest, half chiding, yet half in pity, bore the dying woman to the +casement. She motioned to him to open it; he obeyed. The sun, just above +the welkin, shone over the lordly Thames, gilded the gloomy fortress of +the Tower, and glittered upon the window of Henry’s prison. + +“There--there! It is he,--it is my king! Hither,--lord, rebel +earl,--hither. Behold your sovereign. Repent, revenge!” + +With her livid and outstretched hand, the Lancastrian pointed to the +huge Wakefield tower. The earl’s dark eye beheld in the dim distance +a pale and reverend countenance, recognized even from afar. The dying +woman fixed her glazing eyes upon the wronged and mighty baron, and +suddenly her arm fell to her side, the face became set as into stone, +the last breath of life gurgled within, and fled; and still those +glazing eyes were fixed on the earl’s hueless face, and still in his +ear, and echoed by a thousand passions in his heart, thrilled the +word which had superseded prayer, and in which the sinner’s soul had +flown,--REVENGE! + + + + +BOOK IX. THE WANDERERS AND THE EXILES. + + + + +CHAPTER I. HOW THE GREAT BARON BECOMES AS GREAT A REBEL. + +Hilyard was yet asleep in the chamber assigned to him as his prison, +when a rough grasp shook off his slumbers, and he saw the earl before +him, with a countenance so changed from its usual open majesty, so dark +and sombre, that he said involuntarily, “You send me to the doomsman,--I +am ready!” + +“Hist, man! Thou hatest Edward of York?” + +“An it were my last word, yes!” + +“Give me thy hand--we are friends! Stare not at me with those eyes of +wonder, ask not the why nor wherefore! This last night gave Edward a +rebel more in Richard Nevile! A steed waits thee at my gates; ride fast +to young Sir Robert Welles with this letter. Bid him not be dismayed; +bid him hold out, for ere many days are past, Lord Warwick, and it may +be also the Duke of Clarence, will join their force with his. Mark, I +say not that I am for Henry of Lancaster,--I say only that I am against +Edward of York. Farewell, and when we meet again, blessed be the arm +that first cuts its way to a tyrant’s heart!” + +Without another word, Warwick left the chamber. Hilyard at first could +not believe his senses; but as he dressed himself in haste, he pondered +over all those causes of dissension which had long notoriously subsisted +between Edward and the earl, and rejoiced that the prophecy that he had +long so shrewdly hazarded was at last fulfilled. Descending the stairs +he gained the gate, where Marmaduke awaited him, while a groom held +a stout haquenee (as the common riding-horse was then called), whose +points and breeding promised speed and endurance. + +“Mount, Master Robin,” said Marmaduke; “I little thought we should ever +ride as friends together! Mount!--our way for some miles out of London +is the same. You go into Lincolnshire, I into the shire of Hertford.” + +“And for the same purpose?” asked Hilyard, as he sprang upon his horse, +and the two men rode briskly on. + +“Yes!” + +“Lord Warwick is changed at last?” + +“At last!” + +“For long?” + +“Till death!” + +“Good, I ask no more!” + +A sound of hoofs behind made the franklin turn his head, and he saw +a goodly troop, armed to the teeth, emerge from the earl’s house and +follow the lead of Marmaduke. Meanwhile Warwick was closeted with +Montagu. + +Worldly as the latter was, and personally attached to Edward, he was +still keenly alive to all that touched the honour of his House; and +his indignation at the deadly insult offered to his niece was even more +loudly expressed than that of the fiery earl. + +“To deem,” he exclaimed, “to deem Elizabeth Woodville worthy of his +throne, and to see in Anne Nevile the only worthy to be his leman!” + +“Ay!” said the earl, with a calmness perfectly terrible, from its +unnatural contrast to his ordinary heat, when but slightly chafed, “ay! +thou sayest it! But be tranquil; cold,--cold as iron, and as hard! We +must scheme now, not storm and threaten--I never schemed before! You are +right,--honesty is a fool’s policy! Would I had known this but an hour +before the news reached me! I have already dismissed our friends to +their different districts, to support King Edward’s cause--he is still +king,--a little while longer king! Last night, I dismissed them--last +night, at the very hour when--O God, give me patience!” He paused, and +added in a low voice, “Yet--yet--how long the moments are how long! Ere +the sun sets, Edward, I trust, will be in my power!” + +“How?” + +“He goes, to-day, to the More,--he will not go the less for what +hath chanced; he will trust to the archbishop to make his peace with +me,--churchmen are not fathers! Marmaduke Nevile hath my orders; a +hundred armed men, who would march against the fiend himself, if I said +the word, will surround the More, and seize the guest!” + +“But what then? Who, if Edward, I dare not say the word--who is to +succeed him?” + +“Clarence is the male heir.” + +“But with what face to the people proclaim--” + +“There--there it is!” interrupted Warwick. “I have thought of that,--I +have thought of all things; my mind seems to have traversed worlds since +daybreak! True! all commotion to be successful must have a cause that +men can understand. Nevertheless, you, Montagu--you have a smoother +tongue than I; go to our friends--to those who hate Edward--seek them, +sound them!” + +“And name to them Edward’s infamy?” + +“‘S death, dost thou think it? Thou, a Monthermer and Montagu: proclaim +to England the foul insult to the hearth of an English gentleman and +peer! feed every ribald Bourdour with song and roundel of Anne’s virgin +shame! how King Edward stole to her room at the dead of night, and wooed +and pressed, and swore, and--God of Heaven, that this hand were on his +throat! No, brother, no! there are some wrongs we may not tell,--tumours +and swellings of the heart which are eased not till blood can flow!” + +During this conference between the brothers, Edward, in his palace, was +seized with consternation and dismay on hearing that the Lady Anne could +not be found in her chamber. He sent forthwith to summon Adam Warner to +his presence, and learned from the simple sage, who concealed nothing, +the mode in which Anne had fled from the Tower. The king abruptly +dismissed Adam, after a few hearty curses and vague threats; and awaking +to the necessity of inventing some plausible story, to account to the +wonder of the court for the abrupt disappearance of his guest, he saw +that the person who could best originate and circulate such a tale was +the queen; and he sought her at once, with the resolution to choose his +confidant in the connection most rarely honoured by marital trust in +similar offences. He, however, so softened his narrative as to leave it +but a venial error. He had been indulging over-freely in the wine-cup, +he had walked into the corridor for the refreshing coolness of the air, +he had seen the figure of a female whom he did not recognize; and a +few gallant words, he scarce remembered what, had been misconstrued. On +perceiving whom he had thus addressed, he had sought to soothe the anger +or alarm of the Lady Anne; but still mistaking his intention, she had +hurried into Warner’s chamber; he had followed her thither, and now she +had fled the palace. Such was his story, told lightly and laughingly, +but ending with a grave enumeration of the dangers his imprudence had +incurred. + +Whatever Elizabeth felt, or however she might interpret the confession, +she acted with her customary discretion; affected, after a few tender +reproaches, to place implicit credit in her lord’s account, and +volunteered to prevent all scandal by the probable story that the +earl, being prevented from coming in person for his daughter, as he +had purposed, by fresh news of the rebellion which might call him from +London with the early day, had commissioned his kinsman Marmaduke to +escort her home. The quick perception of her sex told her that, whatever +license might have terrified Anne into so abrupt a flight, the haughty +earl would shrink no less than Edward himself from making public an +insult which slander could well distort into the dishonour of his +daughter; and that whatever pretext might be invented, Warwick would not +deign to contradict it. And as, despite Elizabeth’s hatred to the earl, +and desire of permanent breach between Edward and his minister, she +could not, as queen, wife, and woman, but be anxious that some cause +more honourable in Edward, and less odious to the people, should be +assigned for quarrel, she earnestly recommended the king to repair at +once to the More, as had been before arranged, and to spare no pains, +disdain no expressions of penitence and humiliation, to secure the +mediation of the archbishop. His mind somewhat relieved by this +interview and counsel, the king kissed Elizabeth with affectionate +gratitude, and returned to his chamber to prepare for his departure +to the archbishop’s palace. But then, remembering that Adam and Sibyll +possessed his secret, he resolved at once to banish them from the Tower. +For a moment he thought of the dungeons of his fortress, of the rope of +his doomsman; but his conscience at that hour was sore and vexed. His +fierceness humbled by the sense of shame, he shrank from a new crime; +and, moreover, his strong common-sense assured him that the testimony of +a shunned and abhorred wizard ceased to be of weight the moment it was +deprived of the influence it took from the protection of a king. He gave +orders for a boat to be in readiness by the gate of St. Thomas, again +summoned Adam into his presence, and said briefly, “Master Warner, the +London mechanics cry so loudly against thine invention for lessening +labour and starving the poor, the sailors on the wharfs are so mutinous +at the thought of vessels without rowers, that, as a good king is bound, +I yield to the voice of my people. Go home, then, at once; the queen +dispenses with thy fair daughter’s service, the damsel accompanies thee. +A boat awaits ye at the stairs; a guard shall attend ye to your house. +Think what has passed within these walls has been a dream,--a dream +that, if told, is deathful, if concealed and forgotten hath no portent!” + +Without waiting a reply, the king called from the anteroom one of his +gentlemen, and gave him special directions as to the departure and +conduct of the worthy scholar and his gentle daughter. Edward next +summoned before him the warder of the gate, learned that he alone was +privy to the mode of his guest’s flight, and deeming it best to leave +at large no commentator on the tale he had invented, sentenced the +astonished warder to three months’ solitary imprisonment,--for appearing +before him with soiled hosen! An hour afterwards, the king, with a small +though gorgeous retinue, was on his way to the More. + +The archbishop had, according to his engagement, assembled in his palace +the more powerful of the discontented seigneurs; and his eloquence had +so worked upon them, that Edward beheld, on entering the hall, only +countenances of cheerful loyalty and respectful welcome. After the first +greetings, the prelate, according to the custom of the day, conducted +Edward into a chamber, that he might refresh himself with a brief rest +and the bath, previous to the banquet. + +Edward seized the occasion, and told his tale; but however softened, +enough was left to create the liveliest dismay in his listener. The +lofty scaffolding of hope upon which the ambitious prelate was to mount +to the papal throne seemed to crumble into the dust. The king and the +earl were equally necessary to the schemes of George Nevile. He chid the +royal layman with more than priestly unction for his offence; but Edward +so humbly confessed his fault, that the prelate at length relaxed his +brow, and promised to convey his penitent assurances to the earl. + +“Not an hour should be lost,” he said; “the only one who can soothe +his wrath is your Highness’s mother, our noble kinswoman. Permit me to +despatch to her grace a letter, praying her to seek the earl, while I +write by the same courier to himself.” + +“Be it all as you will,” said Edward, doffing his surcoat, and dipping +his hands in a perfumed ewer; “I shall not know rest till I have knelt +to the Lady Anne, and won her pardon.” + +The prelate retired, and scarcely had he left the room when Sir John +Ratcliffe, [Afterwards Lord Fitzwalter. See Lingard (note, vol. iii. p. +507, quarto edition), for the proper date to be assigned to this royal +visit to the More,--a date we have here adopted, not, as Sharon Turner +and others place (namely, upon the authority of Hearne’s Fragm., 302, +which subsequent events disprove), after the open rebellion of Warwick, +but just before it; that is, not after Easter, but before Lent.] one of +the king’s retinue, and in waiting on his person, entered the chamber, +pale and trembling. + +“My liege,” he said, in a whisper, “I fear some deadly treason awaits +you. I have seen, amongst the trees below this tower, the gleam of +steel; I have crept through the foliage, and counted no less than a +hundred armed men,--their leader is Sir Marmaduke Nevile, Earl Warwick’s +kinsman!” + +“Ha!” muttered the king, and his bold face fell, “comes the earl’s +revenge so soon?” + +“And,” continued Ratcliffe, “I overheard Sir Marmaduke say, ‘The door of +the Garden Tower is unguarded,--wait the signal!’ Fly, my liege! Hark! +even now I hear the rattling of arms!” + +The king stole to the casement; the day was closing; the foliage grew +thick and dark around the wall; he saw an armed man emerge from the +shade,--a second, and a third. + +“You are right, Ratcliffe! Flight--but how?” + +“This way, my liege. By the passage I entered, a stair winds to a door +on the inner court; there I have already a steed in waiting. Deign, for +precaution, to use my hat and manteline.” + +The king hastily adopted the suggestion, followed the noiseless steps +of Ratcliffe, gained the door, sprang upon his steed, and dashing +right through a crowd assembled by the gate, galloped alone and fast, +untracked by human enemy, but goaded by the foe that mounts the rider’s +steed, over field, over fell, over dyke, through hedge, and in the dead +of night reined in at last before the royal towers of Windsor. + + + + +CHAPTER II. MANY THINGS BRIEFLY TOLD. + +The events that followed the king’s escape were rapid and startling. The +barons assembled at the More, enraged at Edward’s seeming distrust of +them, separated in loud anger. The archbishop learned the cause from one +of his servitors, who detected Marmaduke’s ambush, but he was too wary +to make known a circumstance suspicious to himself. He flew to London, +and engaged the mediation of the Duchess of York to assist his own. +[Lingard. See for the dates, Fabyan, 657.] + +The earl received their joint overtures with stern and ominous coldness, +and abruptly repaired to Warwick, taking with him the Lady Anne. There +he was joined, the same day, by the Duke and Duchess of Clarence. + +The Lincolnshire rebellion gained head: Edward made a dexterous feint +in calling, by public commission, upon Clarence and Warwick to aid in +dispersing it; if they refused, the odium of first aggression would +seemingly rest with them. Clarence, more induced by personal ambition +than sympathy with Warwick’s wrong, incensed by his brother’s recent +slights, looking to Edward’s resignation and his own consequent +accession to the throne, and inflamed by the ambition and pride of a +wife whom he at once feared and idolized, went hand in heart with the +earl; but not one lord and captain whom Montagu had sounded lent favour +to the deposition of one brother for the advancement of the next. +Clarence, though popular, was too young to be respected: many there were +who would rather have supported the earl, if an aspirant to the throne; +but that choice forbidden by the earl himself, there could be but two +parties in England,--the one for Edward IV., the other for Henry VI. +Lord Montagu had repaired to Warwick Castle to communicate in person +this result of his diplomacy. The earl, whose manner was completely +changed, no longer frank and hearty, but close and sinister, listened in +gloomy silence. + +“And now,” said Montagu, with the generous emotion of a man whose nobler +nature was stirred deeply, “if you resolve on war with Edward, I am +willing to renounce my own ambition, the hand of a king’s daughter for +my son, so that I may avenge the honour of our common name. I confess +that I have so loved Edward that I would fain pray you to pause, did I +not distrust myself, lest in such delay his craft should charm me back +to the old affection. Nathless, to your arm and your great soul I have +owed all, and if you are resolved to strike the blow, I am ready to +share the hazard.” + +The earl turned away his face, and wrung his brother’s hand. + +“Our father, methinks, hears thee from the grave!” said he, solemnly, +and there was a long pause. At length Warwick resumed: “Return to +London; seem to take no share in my actions, whatever they be; if I +fail, why drag thee into my ruin?--and yet, trust me, I am rash and +fierce no more. He who sets his heart on a great object suddenly becomes +wise. When a throne is in the dust, when from St. Paul’s Cross a voice +goes forth to Carlisle and the Land’s End, proclaiming that the reign of +Edward the Fourth is past and gone, then, Montagu, I claim thy promise +of aid and fellowship,--not before!” + +Meanwhile, the king, eager to dispel thought in action, rushed in person +against the rebellious forces. Stung by fear into cruelty, he beheaded, +against all kingly faith, his hostages, Lord Welles and Sir Thomas +Dymoke, summoned Sir Robert Welles, the leader of the revolt, to +surrender; received for answer, that Sir Robert Welles would not trust +the perfidy of the man who had murdered his father!--pushed on to +Erpingham, defeated the rebels in a signal battle, and crowned his +victory by a series of ruthless cruelties, committed to the fierce and +learned Earl of Worcester, “Butcher of England.” [Stowe. “Warkworth +Chronicle”--Cont. Croyl. Lord Worcester ordered Clapham (a squire to +Lord Warwick) and nineteen others, gentlemen and yeomen, to be impaled, +and from the horror the spectacle inspired, and the universal odium +it attached to Worcester, it is to be feared that the unhappy men were +still sensible to the agony of this infliction, though they appear first +to have been drawn, and partially hanged,--outrage confined only to the +dead bodies of rebels being too common at that day to have excited the +indignation which attended the sentence Worcester passed on his victims. +It is in vain that some writers would seek to cleanse the memory of this +learned nobleman from the stain of cruelty by rhetorical remarks on +the improbability that a cultivator of letters should be of a ruthless +disposition. The general philosophy of this defence is erroneous. In +ignorant ages a man of superior acquirements is not necessarily made +humane by the cultivation of his intellect, on the contrary, he too +often learns to look upon the uneducated herd as things of another clay. +Of this truth all history is pregnant,--witness the accomplished tyrants +of Greece, the profound and cruel intellect of the Italian Borgias. +Richard III. and Henry VIII. were both highly educated for their age. +But in the case of Tiptoft, Lord Worcester, the evidence of his cruelty +is no less incontestable than that which proves his learning--the +Croyland historian alone is unimpeachable. Worcester’s popular name of +“the Butcher” is sufficient testimony in itself. The people are often +mistaken, to be sure, but can scarcely be so upon the one point, whether +a man who has sat in judgment on themselves be merciful or cruel.] + +With the prompt vigour and superb generalship which Edward ever +displayed in war, he then cut his gory way to the force which Clarence +and Warwick (though their hostility was still undeclared) had levied, +with the intent to join the defeated rebels. He sent his herald, Garter +King-at-arms, to summon the earl and the duke to appear before him +within a certain day. The time expired; he proclaimed them traitors, and +offered rewards for their apprehension. [One thousand pounds in money, +or one hundred pounds a year in land; an immense reward for that day.] + +So sudden had been Warwick’s defection, so rapid the king’s movements, +that the earl had not time to mature his resources, assemble his +vassals, consolidate his schemes. His very preparations, upon the night +on which Edward had repaid his services by such hideous ingratitude, had +manned the country with armies against himself. Girt but with a scanty +force collected in haste (and which consisted merely of his retainers in +the single shire of Warwick), the march of Edward cut him off from the +counties in which his name was held most dear, in which his trumpet +could raise up hosts. He was disappointed in the aid he had expected +from his powerful but self-interested brother-in-law, Lord Stanley. +Revenge had become more dear to him than life: life must not be +hazarded, lest revenge be lost. On still marched the king; and the day +that his troops entered Exeter, Warwick, the females of his family, +with Clarence, and a small but armed retinue, took ship from Dartmouth, +sailed for Calais (before which town, while at anchor, Isabel was +confined of her first-born). To the earl’s rage and dismay his deputy +Vauclerc fired upon his ships. Warwick then steered on towards Normandy, +captured some Flemish vessels by the way, in token of defiance to the +earl’s old Burgundian foe, and landed at Harfleur, where he and his +companions were received with royal honours by the Admiral of France, +and finally took their way to the court of Louis XI. at Amboise. + +“The danger is past forever!” said King Edward, as the wine sparkled in +his goblet. “Rebellion hath lost its head,--and now, indeed, and for the +first time, a monarch I reign alone!” [Before leaving England, Warwick +and Clarence are generally said to have fallen in with Anthony Woodville +and Lord Audley, and ordered them to execution, from which they were +saved by a Dorsetshire gentleman. Carte, who, though his history is +not without great mistakes, is well worth reading by those whom the +character of Lord Warwick may interest, says, that the earl had “too +much magnanimity to put them to death immediately, according to the +common practice of the times, and only imprisoned them in the castle +of Wardour, from whence they were soon rescued by John Thornhill, +a gentleman of Dorsetshire.” The whole of this story is, however, +absolutely contradicted by the “Warkworth Chronicle” (p. 9, edited by +Mr. Halliwell), according to which authority Anthony Woodville was at +that time commanding a fleet upon the Channel, which waylaid Warwick on +his voyage; but the success therein attributed to the gallant Anthony, +in dispersing or seizing all the earl’s ships, save the one that bore +the earl himself and his family, is proved to be purely fabulous, by the +earl’s well-attested capture of the Flemish vessels, as he passed +from Calais to the coasts of Normandy, an exploit he could never have +performed with a single vessel of his own. It is very probable that the +story of Anthony Woodville’s capture and peril at this time originates +in a misadventure many years before, and recorded in the “Paston +Letters,” as well as in the “Chronicles.”--In the year 1459, Anthony +Woodville and his father, Lord Rivers (then zealous Lancastrians), +really did fall into the hands of the Earl of March (Edward IV.), +Warwick and Salisbury, and got off with a sound “rating” upon the rude +language which such “knaves’ sons” and “little squires” had held to +those “who were of king’s blood.”] + + + + +CHAPTER III. THE PLOT OF THE HOSTELRY--THE MAID AND THE SCHOLAR IN THEIR +HOME. + +The country was still disturbed, and the adherents, whether of Henry or +the earl, still rose in many an outbreak, though prevented from swelling +into one common army by the extraordinary vigour not only of Edward, +but of Gloucester and Hastings,--when one morning, just after the events +thus rapidly related, the hostelry of Master Sancroft, in the suburban +parish of Marybone, rejoiced in a motley crowd of customers and topers. + +Some half-score soldiers, returned in triumph from the royal camp, sat +round a table placed agreeably enough in the deep recess made by the +large jutting lattice; with them were mingled about as many women, +strangely and gaudily clad. These last were all young; one or two, +indeed, little advanced from childhood. But there was no expression of +youth in their hard, sinister features: coarse paint supplied the place +of bloom; the very youngest had a wrinkle on her brow; their forms +wanted the round and supple grace of early years. Living principally in +the open air, trained from infancy to feats of activity, their muscles +were sharp and prominent, their aspects had something of masculine +audacity and rudeness; health itself seemed in them more loathsome +than disease. Upon those faces of bronze, vice had set its ineffable, +unmistaken seal. To those eyes never had sprung the tears of compassion +or woman’s gentle sorrow; on those brows never had flushed the glow of +modest shame: their very voices half belied their sex,--harsh and deep +and hoarse, their laughter loud and dissonant. Some amongst them were +not destitute of a certain beauty, but it was a beauty of feature with a +common hideousness of expression,--an expression at once cunning, +bold, callous, licentious. Womanless through the worst vices of woman, +passionless through the premature waste of passion, they stood between +the sexes like foul and monstrous anomalies, made up and fashioned +from the rank depravities of both. These creatures seemed to have newly +arrived from some long wayfaring; their shoes and the hems of their +robes were covered with dust and mire; their faces were heated, and the +veins in their bare, sinewy, sunburned arms were swollen by fatigue. +Each had beside her on the floor a timbrel, each wore at her girdle a +long knife in its sheath: well that the sheaths hid the blades, for not +one--not even that which yon cold-eyed child of fifteen wore--but had on +its steel the dark stain of human blood! + +The presence of soldiers fresh from the scene of action had naturally +brought into the hostelry several of the idle gossips of the suburb, and +these stood round the table, drinking into their large ears the boasting +narratives of the soldiers. At a small table, apart from the revellers, +but evidently listening with attention to all the news of the hour, sat +a friar, gravely discussing a mighty tankard of huffcap, and ever and +anon, as he lifted his head for the purpose of drinking, glancing a +wanton eye at one of the tymbesteres. + +“But an’ you had seen,” said a trooper, who was the mouthpiece of his +comrades--“an’ you had seen the raptrils run when King Edward himself +led the charge! Marry, it was like a cat in a rabbit burrow! Easy to +see, I trow, that Earl Warwick was not amongst them! His men, at least, +fight like devils!” + +“But there was one tall fellow,” said a soldier, setting down his +tankard, “who made a good fight and dour, and, but for me and my +comrades, would have cut his way to the king.” + +“Ay, ay, true; we saved his highness, and ought to have been +knighted,--but there’s no gratitude nowadays!” + +“And who was this doughty warrior?” asked one of the bystanders, who +secretly favoured the rebellion. + +“Why, it was said that he was Robin of Redesdale,--he who fought my Lord +Montagu off York.” + +“Our Robin!” exclaimed several voices. “Ay, he was ever a brave +fellow--poor Robin!” + +“‘Your Robin,’ and ‘poor Robin,’ varlets!” cried the principal trooper. +“Have a care! What do ye mean by your Robin?” + +“Marry, sir soldier,” quoth a butcher, scratching his head, and in a +humble voice, “craving your pardon and the king’s, this Master Robin +sojourned a short time in this hamlet, and was a kind neighbour, and +mighty glib of the tongue. Don’t ye mind, neighbours,” he added rapidly, +eager to change the conversation, “how he made us leave off when we were +just about burning Adam Warner, the old nigromancer, in his den yonder? +Who else could have done that? But an’ we had known Robin had been +a rebel to sweet King Edward, we’d have roasted him along with the +wizard!” + +One of the timbrel-girls, the leader of the choir, her arm round a +soldier’s neck, looked up at the last speech, and her eye followed the +gesture of the butcher, as he pointed through the open lattice to the +sombre, ruinous abode of Adam Warner. + +“Was that the house ye would have burned?” she asked abruptly. + +“Yes; but Robin told us the king would hang those who took on them the +king’s blessed privilege of burning nigromancers; and, sure enough, +old Adam Warner was advanced to be wizard-in-chief to the king’s own +highness a week or two afterwards.” + +The friar had made a slight movement at the name of Warner; he now +pushed his stool nearer to the principal group, and drew his hood +completely over his countenance. + +“Yea!” exclaimed the mechanic, whose son had been the innocent cause of +the memorable siege to poor Adam’s dilapidated fortress, related in the +first book of this narrative”--yea; and what did he when there? Did he +not devise a horrible engine for the destruction of the poor,--an engine +that was to do all the work in England by the devil’s help?--so that if +a gentleman wanted a coat of mail, or a cloth tunic; if his dame needed +a Norwich worsted; if a yeoman lacked a plough or a wagon, or his good +wife a pot or a kettle; they were to go, not to the armourer, and the +draper, and the tailor, and the weaver, and the wheelwright, and the +blacksmith,--but, hey presto! Master Warner set his imps a-churning, and +turned ye out mail and tunic, worsted and wagon, kettle and pot, spick +and span new, from his brewage of vapour and sea-coal. Oh, have I not +heard enough of the sorcerer from my brother, who works in the Chepe +for Master Stokton, the mercer!--and Master Stokton was one of the +worshipful deputies to whom the old nigromancer had the front to boast +his devices.” + +“It is true,” said the friar, suddenly. + +“Yes, reverend father, it is true,” said the mechanic, doffing his +cap, and inclining his swarthy face to this unexpected witness of his +veracity. A murmur of wrath and hatred was heard amongst the bystanders. +The soldiers indifferently turned to their female companions. There +was a brief silence; and, involuntarily, the gossips stretched over the +table to catch sight of the house of so demoniac an oppressor of the +poor. + +“See,” said the baker, “the smoke still curls from the rooftop! I heard +he had come back. Old Madge, his handmaid, has bought cimnel-cakes of me +the last week or so; nothing less than the finest wheat serves him now, +I trow. However, right’s right, and--” + +“Come back!” cried the fierce mechanic; “the owl hath kept close in his +roost! An’ it were not for the king’s favour, I would soon see how the +wizard liked to have fire and water brought to bear against himself!” + +“Sit down, sweetheart,” whispered one of the young tymbesteres to the +last speaker-- + + “Come, kiss me, my darling, + Warm kisses I trade for.” + +“Avaunt!” quoth the mechanic, gruffly, and shaking off the seductive arm +of the tymbestere--“avaunt! I have neither liefe nor halfpence for thee +and thine. Out on thee!--a child of thy years! a rope’s end to thy back +were a friend’s best kindness!” + +The girl’s eyes sparkled, she instinctively put her hand to her knife; +then turning to a soldier by her side, she said, “Hear you that, and sit +still?” + +“Thunder and wounds!” growled the soldier thus appealed to, “more +respect to the sex, knave; if I don’t break thy fool’s costard with +my sword-hilt, it is only because Red Grisell can take care of herself +against twenty such lozels as thou. These honest girls have been to the +wars with us; King Edward grudges no man his jolly fere. Speak up for +thyself, Grisell! How many tall fellows didst thou put out of their pain +after the battle of Losecote?” + +“Only five, Hal,” replied the cold-eyed girl, and showing her glittering +teeth with the grin of a young tigress; “but one was a captain. I shall +do better next time; it was my first battle, thou knowest!” + +The more timid of the bystanders exchanged a glance of horror, and drew +back. The mechanic resumed sullenly,--“I seek no quarrel with lass or +lover. I am a plain, blunt man, with a wife and children, who are dear +to me; and if I have a grudge to the nigromancer, it is because he +glamoured my poor boy Tim. See!”--and he caught up a blue-eyed, handsome +boy, who had been clinging to his side, and baring the child’s arm, +showed it to the spectators; there was a large scar on the limb, and it +was shrunk and withered. + +“It was my own fault,” said the little fellow, deprecatingly. The +affectionate father silenced the sufferer with a cuff on the cheek, and +resumed: “Ye note, neighbours, the day when the foul wizard took this +little one in his arms: well, three weeks afterwards--that very day +three weeks--as he was standing like a lamb by the fire, the good wife’s +caldron seethed over, without reason or rhyme, and scalded his arm till +it rivelled up like a leaf in November; and if that is not glamour, why +have we laws against witchcraft?” + +“True, true!” groaned the chorus. + +The boy, who had borne his father’s blow without a murmur, now again +attempted remonstrance. “The hot water went over the gray cat, too, but +Master Warner never bewitched her, daddy.” + +“He takes his part!--You hear the daff laddy? He takes the old +nigromancer’s part,--a sure sign of the witchcraft; but I’ll leather it +out of thee, I will!” and the mechanic again raised his weighty arm. The +child did not this time await the blow; he dodged under the butcher’s +apron, gained the door, and disappeared. “And he teaches our own +children to fly in our faces!” said the father, in a kind of whimper. +The neighbours sighed in commiseration. + +“Oh,” he exclaimed in a fiercer tone, grinding his teeth, and shaking +his clenched fist towards Adam Warner’s melancholy house, “I say again, +if the king did not protect the vile sorcerer, I would free the land +from his devilries ere his black master could come to his help.” + +“The king cares not a straw for Master Warner or his inventions, my +son,” said a rough, loud voice. All turned, and saw the friar standing +in the midst of the circle. “Know ye not, my children, that the king +sent the wretch neck and crop out of the palace for having bewitched +the Earl of Warwick and his grace the Lord Clarence, so that they turned +unnaturally against their own kinsman, his highness? But ‘Manus malorum +suos bonos breaket,’--that is to say, the fists of wicked men only whack +their own bones. Ye have all heard tell of Friar Bungey, my children?” + +“Ay, ay!” answered two or three in a breath,--“a wizard, it’s true, and +a mighty one; but he never did harm to the poor; though they do say he +made a quaint image of the earl, and--” + +“Tut, tut!” interrupted the friar, “all Bungey did was to try to +disenchant the Lord Warwick, whom yon miscreant had spellbound. Poor +Bungey! he is a friend to the people: and when he found that Master Adam +was making a device for their ruin, he spared no toil, I assure ye, to +frustrate the iniquity. Oh, how he fasted and watched! Oh, how many a +time he fought, tooth and nail, with the devil in person, to get at the +infernal invention! for if he had that invention once in his hands, he +could turn it to good account, I can promise ye: and give ye rain for +the green blade and sun for the ripe sheaf. But the fiend got the better +at first; and King Edward, bewitched himself for the moment, would have +hanged Friar Bungey for crossing old Adam, if he had not called three +times, in a loud voice, ‘Presto pepranxenon!’ changed himself into a +bird, and flown out of the window. As soon as Master Adam Warner found +the field clear to himself, he employed his daughter to bewitch the Lord +Hastings; he set brother against brother, and made the king and Lord +George fall to loggerheads; he stirred up the rebellion; and where +he would have stopped the foul fiend only knows, if your friend Friar +Bungey, who, though a wizard as you say, is only so for your benefit +(and a holy priest into the bargain), had not, by aid of a good spirit, +whom he conjured up in the island of Tartary, disenchanted the king, and +made him see in a dream what the villanous Warner was devising against +his crown and his people,--whereon his highness sent Master Warner and +his daughter back to their roost, and, helped by Friar Bungey, beat his +enemies out of the kingdom. So, if ye have a mind to save your children +from mischief and malice, ye may set to work with good heart, always +provided that ye touch not old Adam’s iron invention. Woe betide ye, if +ye think to destroy that! Bring it safe to Friar Bungey, whom ye will +find returned to the palace, and journeyman’s wages will be a penny a +day higher for the next ten years to come!” With these words the friar +threw down his reckoning, and moved majestically to the door. + +“An’ I might trust you!” said Tim’s father, laying hold of the friar’s +serge. + +“Ye may, ye may!” cried the leader of the tymbesteres, starting up from +the lap of her soldier, “for it is Friar Bungey himself!” + +A movement of astonishment and terror was universal. “Friar Bungey +himself!” repeated the burly impostor. “Right, lassie, right; and he now +goes to the palace of the Tower, to mutter good spells in King Edward’s +ear,--spells to defeat the malignant ones, and to lower the price of +beer. Wax wobiscum!” + +With that salutation, more benevolent than accurate, the friar vanished +from the room; the chief of the tymbesteres leaped lightly on the table, +put one foot on the soldier’s shoulder, and sprang through the open +lattice. She found the friar in the act of mounting a sturdy mule, which +had been tied to a post by the door. + +“Fie, Graul Skellet! Fie, Graul!” said the conjurer “Respect for my +serge. We must not be noted together out of door in the daylight. +There’s a groat for thee. Vade, execrabilis,--that is, good-day to thee, +pretty rogue!” + +“A word, friar, a word. Wouldst thou have the old man burned, drowned, +or torn piecemeal? He hath a daughter too, who once sought to mar our +trade with her gittern; a daughter, then in a kirtle that I would not +have nimmed from a hedge, but whom I last saw in sarcenet and lawn, with +a great lord for her fere.” The tymbestere’s eyes shone with malignant +envy, as she added, “Graul Skellet loves not to see those who have +worn worsted and say walk in sarcenet and lawn. Graul Skellet loves not +wenches who have lords for their feres, and yet who shrink from Graul +and her sisters as the sound from the leper.” + +“Fegs,” answered the friar, impatiently, “I know naught against the +daughter,--a pretty lass, but too high for my kisses. And as for the +father, I want not the man’s life,--that is, not very specially,--but +his model, his mechanical. He may go free, if that can be compassed; if +not, why, the model at all risks. Serve me in this.” + +“And thou wilt teach me the last tricks of the cards, and thy great art +of making phantoms glide by on the wall?” + +“Bring the model intact, and I will teach thee more, Graul,--the dead +man’s candle, and the charm of the newt; and I’ll give thee, to boot, +the Gaul of the parricide that thou hast prayed me so oft for. Hum! thou +hast a girl in thy troop who hath a blinking eye that well pleases me; +but go now, and obey me. Work before play, and grace before pudding!” + +The tymbestere nodded, snapped her fingers in the air, and humming no +holy ditty, returned to the house through the doorway. + +This short conference betrays to the reader the relations, mutually +advantageous, which subsisted between the conjuror and the tymbesteres. +Their troop (the mothers, perchance, of the generation we treat of) +had been familiar to the friar in his old capacity of mountebank, or +tregetour, and in his clerical and courtly elevation, he did not disdain +an ancient connection that served him well with the populace; for these +grim children of vice seemed present in every place, where pastime was +gay, or strife was rampant,--in peace, at the merry-makings and the +hostelries; in war, following the camp, and seen, at night, prowling +through the battlefields to dispatch the wounded and to rifle the slain: +in merrymaking, hostelry, or in camp, they could thus still spread the +fame of Friar Bungey, and uphold his repute both for terrible lore and +for hearty love of the commons. + +Nor was this all; both tymbesteres and conjuror were fortune-tellers by +profession. They could interchange the anecdotes each picked up in their +different lines. The tymbestere could thus learn the secrets of gentle +and courtier, the conjuror those of the artisan and mechanic. + +Unconscious of the formidable dispositions of their neighbours, Sibyll +and Warner were inhaling the sweet air of the early spring in their +little garden. His disgrace had affected the philosopher less than might +be supposed. True, that the loss of the king’s favour was the deferring +indefinitely--perhaps for life--any practical application of his adored +theory; and yet, somehow or other, the theory itself consoled him. At +the worst, he should find some disciple, some ingenious student, more +fortunate than himself, to whom he could bequeath the secret, and who, +when Adam was in his grave, would teach the world to revere his name. +Meanwhile, his time was his own; he was lord of a home, though ruined +and desolate; he was free, with his free thoughts; and therefore, as he +paced the narrow garden, his step was lighter, his mind less absent than +when parched with feverish fear and hope for the immediate practical +success of a principle which was to be tried before the hazardous +tribunal of prejudice and ignorance. + +“My child,” said the sage, “I feel, for the first time for years, the +distinction of the seasons. I feel that we are walking in the pleasant +spring. Young days come back to me like dreams; and I could almost think +thy mother were once more by my side!” + +Sibyll pressed her father’s hand, and a soft but melancholy sigh stirred +her rosy lips. She, too, felt the balm of the young year; yet her +father’s words broke upon sad and anxious musings. Not to youth as to +age, not to loving fancy as to baffled wisdom, has seclusion charms that +compensate for the passionate and active world! On coming back to the +old house, on glancing round its mildewed walls, comfortless and bare, +the neglected, weed-grown garden, Sibyll had shuddered in dismay. Had +her ambition fallen again into its old abject state? Were all her hopes +to restore her ancestral fortunes, to vindicate her dear father’s fame, +shrunk into this slough of actual poverty,--the butterfly’s wings folded +back into the chrysalis shroud of torpor? The vast disparity between +herself and Hastings had not struck her so forcibly at the court; here, +at home, the very walls proclaimed it. When Edward had dismissed the +unwelcome witnesses of his attempted crime, he had given orders that +they should be conducted to their house through the most private ways. +He naturally desired to create no curious comment upon their departure. +Unperceived by their neighbours, Sibyll and her father had gained access +by the garden gate. Old Madge received them in dismay; for she had been +in the habit of visiting Sibyll weekly at the palace, and had gained, +in the old familiarity subsisting, then, between maiden and nurse, some +insight into her heart. She had cherished the fondest hopes for the fate +of her young mistress; and now, to labour and to penury had the fate +returned! The guard who accompanied them, according to Edward’s orders, +left some pieces of gold, which Adam rejected, but Madge secretly +received and judiciously expended. And this was all their wealth. But +not of toil nor of penury in themselves thought Sibyll; she thought +but of Hastings,--wildly, passionately, trustfully, unceasingly, of the +absent Hastings. Oh, he would seek her, he would come, her reverse would +but the more endear her to him! Hastings came not. She soon learned the +wherefore. War threatened the land,--he was at his post, at the head of +armies. + +Oh, with what panoply of prayer she sought to shield that beloved +breast! And now the old man spoke of the blessed spring, the holiday +time of lovers and of love, and the young girl, sighing, said to her +mournful heart, “The world hath its sun,--where is mine?” + +The peacock strutted up to his poor protectors, and spread his plumes to +the gilding beams. And then Sibyll recalled the day when she had walked +in that spot with Marmaduke, and he had talked of his youth, ambition, +and lusty hopes, while, silent and absorbed, she had thought within +herself, “Could the world be open to me as to him,--I too have ambition, +and it should find its goal.” Now what contrast between the two,--the +man enriched and honoured, if to-day in peril or in exile, to-morrow +free to march forward still on his career, the world the country to him +whose heart was bold and whose name was stainless! and she, the woman, +brought back to the prison-home, scorn around her, impotent to avenge, +and forbidden to fly! Wherefore?--Sibyll felt her superiority of mind, +of thought, of nature,--wherefore the contrast? The success was that +of man, the discomfiture that of woman. Woe to the man who precedes his +age; but never yet has an age been in which genius and ambition are safe +to woman! + +The father and the child turned into their house. The day was declining. +Adam mounted to his studious chamber, Sibyll sought the solitary +servant. + +“What tidings, oh, what tidings? The war, you say, is over; the +great earl, his sweet daughter, safe upon the seas, but Hastings--ob, +Hastings! what of him?” + +“My bonnibell, my lady-bird, I have none but good tales to tell thee. I +saw and spoke with a soldier who served under Lord Hastings himself; +he is unscathed, he is in London. But they say that one of his bands +is quartered in the suburb, and that there is a report of a rising in +Hertfordshire.” + +“When will peace come to England and to me!” sighed Sibyll. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. THE WORLD’S JUSTICE, AND THE WISDOM OF OUR ANCESTORS. + +The night had now commenced, and Sibyll was still listening--or, +perhaps, listening not--to the soothing babble of the venerable servant. +They were both seated in the little room that adjoined the hall, and +their only light came through the door opening on the garden,--a gray, +indistinct twilight, relieved by the few earliest stars. The peacock, +his head under his wing, roosted on the balustrade, and the song of the +nightingale, from amidst one of the neighbouring copses, which studded +the ground towards the chase of Marybone, came soft and distant on the +serene air. The balm and freshness of spring were felt in the dews, in +the skies, in the sweet breath of young herb and leaf; through the calm +of ever-watchful nature, it seemed as if you might mark, distinct and +visible, minute after minute, the blessed growth of April into May. + +Suddenly Madge uttered a cry of alarm, and pointed towards the opposite +wall. Sibyll, startled from her revery, looked up, and saw something +dusk and dwarf-like perched upon the crumbling eminence. Presently this +apparition leaped lightly into the garden, and the alarm of the women +was lessened on seeing a young boy creep stealthily over the grass and +approach the open door. + +“Hey, child!” said Madge, rising. “What wantest thou?” + +“Hist, gammer, hist! Ah, the young mistress? That’s well. Hist! I say +again.” The boy entered the room. “I’m in time to save you. In half +an hour your house will be broken into, perhaps burned. The boys are +clapping their hands now at the thoughts of the bonfire. Father and all +the neighbours are getting ready. Hark! hark! No, it is only the wind! +The tymbesteres are to give note. When you hear their bells tinkle, the +mob will meet. Run for your lives, you and the old man, and don’t ever +say it was poor Tim who told you this, for Father would beat me to +death. Ye can still get through the garden into the fields. Quick!” + +“I will go to the master,” exclaimed Madge, hurrying from the room. + +The child caught Sibyll’s cold hand through the dark. “And I say, +mistress, if his worship is a wizard, don’t let him punish Father and +Mother, or poor Tim, or his little sister; though Tim was once naughty, +and hooted Master Warner. Many, many, many a time and oft have I seen +that kind, mild face in my sleep, just as when it bent over me, while I +kicked and screamed, and the poor gentleman said, ‘Thinkest thou I would +harm thee?’ But he’ll forgive me now, will he not? And when I turned +the seething water over myself, and they said it was all along of the +wizard, my heart pained more than the arm. But they whip me, and groan +out that the devil is in me, if I don’t say that the kettle upset of +itself! Oh, those tymbesteres! Mistress, did you ever see them? They +fright me. If you could hear how they set on all the neighbours! And +their laugh--it makes the hair stand on end! But you will get away, +and thank Tim too? Oh, I shall laugh then, when they find the old house +empty!” + +“May our dear Lord bless thee--bless thee, child,” sobbed Sibyll, +clasping the boy in her arms, and kissing him, while her tears bathed +his cheeks. + +A light gleamed on the threshold; Madge, holding a candle, appeared with +Warner, his hat and cloak thrown on in haste. “What is this?” said the +poor scholar. “Can it be true? Is mankind so cruel? What have I done, +woe is me! what have I done to deserve this?” + +“Come, dear father, quick,” said Sibyll, drying her tears, and wakened +by the presence of the old man into energy and courage. “But put thy +hand on this boy’s head, and bless him; for it is he who has, haply, +saved us.” + +The boy trembled a moment as the long-bearded face turned towards +him, but when he caught and recognized those meek, sweet eyes, his +superstition vanished, and it was but a holy and grateful awe that +thrilled his young blood, as the old man placed both withered hands over +his yellow hair, and murmured,-- + +“God shield thy youth! God make thy manhood worthy! God give thee +children in thine old age with hearts like thine!” Scarcely had the +prayer ceased when the clash of timbrels, with their jingling bells, +was heard in the street. Once, twice, again, and a fierce yell closed +in chorus,--caught up and echoed from corner to corner, from house to +house. + +“Run! run!” cried the boy, turning white with terror. + +“But the Eureka--my hope--my mind’s child!” exclaimed Adam, suddenly, +and halting at the door. + +“Eh, eh!” said Madge, pushing him forward. “It is too heavy to move; +thou couldst not lift it. Think of thine own flesh and blood, of thy +daughter, of her dead mother! Save her life, if thou carest not for +thine own!” + +“Go, Sibyll, go, and thou, Madge; I will stay. What matters my life,--it +is but the servant of a thought! Perish master, perish slave!” + +“Father, unless you come with me, I stir not. Fly or perish, your fate +is mine! Another minute--Oh, Heaven of mercy, that roar again! We are +both lost!” + +“Go, sir, go; they care not for your iron,--iron cannot feel. They will +not touch that! Have not your daughter’s life upon your soul!” + +“Sibyll, Sibyll, forgive me! Come!” said Warner, conscience-stricken at +the appeal. + +Madge and the boy ran forwards; the old woman unbarred the garden-gate; +Sibyll and her father went forth; the fields stretched before them calm +and solitary; the boy leaped up, kissed Sibyll’s pale cheek, and then +bounded across the grass, and vanished. + +“Loiter not, Madge. Come!” cried Sibyll. + +“Nay,” said the old woman, shrinking back, “they bear no grudge to me; +I am too old to do aught but burthen ye. I will stay, and perchance save +the house and the chattels, and poor master’s deft contrivance. Whist! +thou knowest his heart would break if none were by to guard it.” + +With that the faithful servant thrust the broad pieces that yet remained +of the king’s gift into the gipsire Sibyll wore at her girdle, and then +closed and rebarred the door before they could detain her. + +“It is base to leave her,” said the scholar-gentleman. + +The noble Sibyll could not refute her father. Afar they heard the +tramping of feet; suddenly, a dark red light shot up into the blue air, +a light from the flame of many torches. + +“The wizard, the wizard! Death to the wizard, who would starve the +poor!” yelled forth, and was echoed by a stern hurrah. + +Adam stood motionless, Sibyll by his side. + +“The wizard and his daughter!” shrieked a sharp single voice, the voice +of Graul the tymbestere. + +Adam turned. “Fly, my child,--they now threaten thee. Come, come, come!” + and, taking her by the hand, he hurried her across the fields, skirting +the hedge, their shadows dodging, irregular and quaint, on the starlit +sward. The father had lost all thought, all care but for the daughter’s +life. They paused at last, out of breath and exhausted: the sounds at +the distance were lulled and hushed. They looked towards the direction +of the home they had abandoned, expecting to see the flames destined to +consume it reddening the sky; but all was dark,--or, rather, no light +save the holy stars and the rising moon offended the majestic heaven. + +“They cannot harm the poor old woman; she hath no lore. On her gray +hairs has fallen not the curse of men’s hate!” said Warner. + +“Right, Father! when they found us flown, doubtless the cruel ones +dispersed. But they may search yet for thee. Lean on me, I am strong and +young. Another effort, and we gain the safe coverts of the Chase.” + +While yet the last word hung on her lips, they saw, on the path they +had left, the burst of torch-light, and heard the mob hounding on their +track. But the thick copses, with their pale green just budding into +life, were at hand. On they fled. The deer started from amidst the +entangled fern, but stood and gazed at them without fear; the playful +hares in the green alleys ceased not their nightly sports at the +harmless footsteps; and when at last, in the dense thicket, they sunk +down on the mossy roots of a giant oak, the nightingales overhead +chanted as if in melancholy welcome. They were saved! + +But in their home, fierce fires glared amidst the tossing torch-light; +the crowd, baffled by the strength of the door, scaled the wall, broke +through the lattice-work of the hall window, and streaming through +room after room, roared forth, “Death to the wizard!” Amidst the sordid +dresses of the men, the soiled and faded tinsel of the tymbesteres +gleamed and sparkled. It was a scene the she-fiends revelled in,--dear +are outrage and malice, and the excitement of turbulent passions, and +the savage voices of frantic men, and the thirst of blood to those +everlasting furies of a mob, under whatever name we know them, in +whatever time they taint with their presence,--women in whom womanhood +is blasted! + +Door after door was burst open with cries of disappointed rage; at last +they ascended the turret-stairs, they found a small door barred and +locked. Tim’s father, a huge axe in his brawny arm, shivered the panels; +the crowd rushed in, and there, seated amongst a strange and motley +litter, they found the devoted Madge. The poor old woman had collected +into this place, as the stronghold of the mansion, whatever portable +articles seemed to her most precious, either from value or association. +Sibyll’s gittern (Marmaduke’s gift) lay amidst a lumber of tools and +implements; a faded robe of her dead mother’s, treasured by Madge and +Sibyll both, as a relic of holy love; a few platters and cups of pewter, +the pride of old Madge’s heart to keep bright and clean; odds and ends +of old hangings; a battered silver brooch (a love-gift to Madge herself +when she was young),--these, and suchlike scraps of finery, hoards +inestimable to the household memory and affection, lay confusedly heaped +around the huge grim model, before which, mute and tranquil, sat the +brave old woman. + +The crowd halted, and stared round in superstitious terror and dumb +marvel. + +The leader of the tymbesteres sprang forward. + +“Where is thy master, old hag, and where the bonny maid who glamours +lords, and despises us bold lasses?” + +“Alack! master and the damsel have gone hours ago! I am alone in the +house; what’s your will?” + +“The crone looks parlous witchlike!” said Tim’s father; crossing +himself, and somewhat retreating from her gray, unquiet eyes. And, +indeed, poor Madge, with her wrinkled face, bony form, and high cap, +corresponded far more with the vulgar notions of a dabbler in the black +art than did Adam Warner, with his comely countenance and noble mien. + +“So she doth, indeed, and verily,” said a hump-backed tinker; “if we +were to try a dip in the horsepool yonder it could do no harm.” + +“Away with her, away!” cried several voices at that humane suggestion. + +“Nay, nay,” quoth the baker, “she is a douce creature after all, +and hath dealt with me many years. I don’t care what becomes of the +wizard,--every one knows,” he added with pride, “that I was one of the +first to set fire to his house when Robin gainsayed it! but right’s +right--burn the master, not the drudge!” + +This intercession might have prevailed, but unhappily, at that moment +Graul Skellet, who had secured two stout fellows to accomplish the +object so desired by Friar Bungey, laid hands on the model, and, at her +shrill command, the men advanced and dislodged it from its place. At the +same tine the other tymbesteres, caught by the sight of things pleasing +to their wonted tastes, threw themselves, one upon the faded robe +Sibyll’s mother had worn in her chaste and happy youth; another, upon +poor Madge’s silver brooch; a third, upon the gittern. + +These various attacks roused up all the spirit and wrath of the old +woman: her cries of distress as she darted from one to the other, +striking to the right and left with her feeble arms, her form trembling +with passion, were at once ludicrous and piteous; and these were +responded to by the shrill exclamations of the fierce tymbesteres, as +they retorted scratch for scratch, and blow for blow. The spectators +grew animated by the sight of actual outrage and resistance; the +humpbacked tinker, whose unwholesome fancy one of the aggrieved +tymbesteres had mightily warmed, hastened to the relief of his virago; +and rendered furious by finding ten nails fastened suddenly on his face, +he struck down the poor creature by a blow that stunned her, seized her +in his arms,--for deformed and weakly as the tinker was, the old woman, +now sense and spirit were gone, was as light as skin and bone could +be,--and followed by half a score of his comrades, whooping and +laughing, bore her down the stairs. Tim’s father, who, whether from +parental affection, or, as is more probable, from the jealous hatred +and prejudice of ignorant industry, was bent upon Adam’s destruction, +hallooed on some of his fierce fellows into the garden, tracked the +footsteps of the fugitives by the trampled grass, and bounded over the +wall in fruitless chase. But on went the more giddy of the mob, rather +in sport than in cruelty, with a chorus of drunken apprentices and +riotous boys, to the spot where the humpbacked tinker had dragged +his passive burden. The foul green pond near Master Sancroft’s hostel +reflected the glare of torches; six of the tymbesteres, leaping and +wheeling, with doggerel song and discordant music, gave the signal for +the ordeal of the witch,-- + + “Lake or river, dyke or ditch, + Water never drowns the witch. + Witch or wizard would ye know? + Sink or swim, is ay or no. + Lift her, swing her, once and twice, + Lift her, swing her o’er the brim,-- + Lille--lera--twice and thrice + Ha! ha! mother, sink or swim!” + +And while the last line was chanted, amidst the full jollity of laughter +and clamour and clattering timbrels, there was a splash in the sullen +water; the green slough on the surface parted with an oozing gurgle, and +then came a dead silence. + +“A murrain on the hag! she does not even struggle!” said, at last, the +hump-backed tinker. + +“No,--no! she cares not for water. Try fire! Out with her! out!” cried +Red Grisell. + +“Aroint her! she is sullen!” said the tinker, as his lean fingers +clutched up the dead body, and let it fall upon the margin. “Dead!” said +the baker, shuddering; “we have done wrong,--I told ye so! She dealt +with me many a year. Poor Madge! Right’s right. She was no witch!” + +“But that was the only way to try it,” said the humpbacked tinker; “and +if she was not a witch, why did she look like one? I cannot abide ugly +folks!” + +The bystanders shook their heads. But whatever their remorse, it was +diverted by a double sound: first, a loud hurrah from some of the mob +who had loitered for pillage, and who now emerged from Adam’s house, +following two men, who, preceded by the terrible Graul, dancing before +them, and tossing aloft her timbrel, bore in triumph the captured +Eureka; and, secondly, the blast of a clarion at the distance, while +up the street marched--horse and foot, with pike and banner--a goodly +troop. The Lord Hastings in person led a royal force, by a night march, +against a fresh outbreak of the rebels, not ten miles from the city, +under Sir Geoffrey Gates, who had been lately arrested by the Lord +Howard at Southampton, escaped, collected a disorderly body of such +restless men as are always disposed to take part in civil commotion, and +now menaced London itself. At the sound of the clarion the valiant mob +dispersed in all directions, for even at that day mobs had an instinct +of terror at the approach of the military, and a quick reaction from +outrage to the fear of retaliation. + +But, at the sound of martial music, the tymbesteres silenced their own +instruments, and instead of flying, they darted through the crowd, each +to seek the other, and unite as for counsel. Graul, pointing to Mr. +Sancroft’s hostelry, whispered the bearers of the Eureka to seek refuge +there for the present, and to bear their trophy with the dawn to Friar +Bungey at the Tower; and then, gliding nimbly through the fugitive +rioters, sprang into the centre of the circle formed by her companions. + +“Ye scent the coming battle?” said the arch-tymbestere. + +“Ay, ay, ay!” answered the sisterhood. + +“But we have gone miles since noon,--I am faint and weary!” said one +amongst them. + +Red Grisell, the youngest of the band, struck her comrade on the +cheek--“Faint and weary, ronion, with blood and booty in the wind!” + +The tymbesteres smiled grimly on their young sister; but the leader +whispered “Hush!” and they stood for a second or two with outstretched +throats, with dilated nostrils, with pent breath, listening to the +clarion and the hoofs and the rattling armour, the human vultures +foretasting their feast of carnage; then, obedient to a sign from +their chieftainess, they crept lightly and rapidly into the mouth of a +neighbouring alley, where they cowered by the squalid huts, concealed. +The troop passed on,--a gallant and serried band, horse and foot, about +fifteen hundred men. As they filed up the thoroughfare, and the tramp +of the last soldiers fell hollow on the starlit ground, the tymbesteres +stole from their retreat, and, at the distance of some few hundred +yards, followed the procession, with long, silent, stealthy strides,--as +the meaner beasts, in the instinct of hungry cunning, follow the lion +for the garbage of his prey. + + + + +CHAPTER V. THE FUGITIVES ARE CAPTURED--THE TYMBESTERES +REAPPEAR--MOONLIGHT ON THE REVEL OF THE LIVING--MOONLIGHT ON THE SLUMBER +OF THE DEAD. + +The father and child made their resting-place under the giant oak. They +knew not whither to fly for refuge; the day and the night had become the +same to them,--the night menaced with robbers, the day with the mob. If +return to their home was forbidden, where in the wide world a shelter +for the would-be world-improver? Yet they despaired not, their hearts +failed them not. The majestic splendour of the night, as it deepened in +its solemn calm; as the shadows of the windless trees fell larger and +sharper upon the silvery earth; as the skies grew mellower and more +luminous in the strengthening starlight, inspired them with the serenity +of faith,--for night, to the earnest soul, opens the Bible of the +universe, and on the leaves of Heaven is written, “God is everywhere.” + +Their hands were clasped each in each, their pale faces were upturned; +they spoke not, neither were they conscious that they prayed, but their +silence was thought, and the thought was worship. + +Amidst the grief and solitude of the pure, there comes, at times, a +strange and rapt serenity,--a sleep-awake,--over which the instinct +of life beyond the grave glides like a noiseless dream; and ever that +heaven that the soul yearns for is coloured by the fancies of the fond +human heart, each fashioning the above from the desires unsatisfied +below. + +“There,” thought the musing maiden, “cruelty and strife shall cease; +there, vanish the harsh differences of life; there, those whom we have +loved and lost are found, and through the Son, who tasted of mortal +sorrow, we are raised to the home of the Eternal Father!” + +“And there,” thought the aspiring sage, “the mind, dungeoned and chained +below, rushes free into the realms of space; there, from every mystery +falls the veil; there, the Omniscient smiles on those who, through the +darkness of life, have fed that lamp, the soul; there, Thought, but the +seed on earth, bursts into the flower and ripens to the fruit!” + +And on the several hope of both maid and sage the eyes of the angel +stars smiled with a common promise. + +At last, insensibly, and while still musing, so that slumber but +continued the revery into visions, father and daughter slept. + +The night passed away; the dawn came slow and gray; the antlers of the +deer stirred above the fern; the song of the nightingale was hushed; and +just as the morning star waned back, while the reddening east announced +the sun, and labour and trouble resumed their realm of day, a fierce +band halted before those sleeping forms. + +These men had been Lancastrian soldiers, and, reduced to plunder for a +living, had, under Sir Geoffrey Gates, formed the most stalwart part of +the wild, disorderly force whom Hilyard and Coniers had led to Olney. +They had heard of the new outbreak, headed by their ancient captain, Sir +Geoffrey (who was supposed to have been instigated to his revolt by the +gold and promises of the Lancastrian chiefs), and were on their way to +join the rebels; but as war for them was but the name for booty, they +felt the wonted instinct of the robber, when they caught sight of the +old man and the fair maid. + +Both Adam and his daughter wore, unhappily, the dresses in which they +had left the court, and Sibyll’s especially was that which seemed to +betoken a certain rank and station. + +“Awake, rouse ye!” said the captain of the band, roughly shaking the arm +which encircled Sibyll’s slender waist. Adam started, opened his eyes, +and saw himself begirt by figures in rusty armour, with savage faces +peering under their steel sallets. + +“How came you hither? Yon oak drops strange acorns,” quoth the chief. + +“Valiant sir,” replied Adam, still seated, and drawing his gown +instinctively over Sibyll’s face, which nestled on his bosom, in slumber +so deep and heavy, that the gruff voice had not broken it, “valiant +sir! we are forlorn and houseless, an old man and a simple girl. Some +evil-minded persons invaded our home; we fled in the night, and--” + +“Invaded your house! ha, it is clear,” said the chief. “We know the +rest.” + +At this moment Sibyll woke, and starting to her feet in astonishment and +terror at the sight on which her eyes opened, her extreme beauty made a +sensible effect upon the bravoes. + +“Do not be daunted, young demoiselle,” said the captain, with an air +almost respectful; “it is necessary thou and Sir John should follow us, +but we will treat you well, and consult later on the ransom ye will pay +us. Jock, discharge the young sumpter mule; put its load on the black +one. We have no better equipment for thee, lady; but the first haquenee +we find shall replace the mule, and meanwhile my knaves will heap their +cloaks for a pillion.” + +“But what mean you?--you mistake us!” exclaimed Sibyll. “We are poor; we +cannot ransom ourselves.” + +“Poor!--tut!” said the captain, pointing significantly to the costly +robe of the maiden--“moreover his worship’s wealth is well known. Mount +in haste,--we are pressed.” And without heeding the expostulations of +Sibyll and the poor scholar, the rebel put his troop into motion, and +marched himself at their head, with his lieutenant. + +Sibyll found the subalterns sterner than their chief; for as Warner +offered to resist, one of them lifted his gisarme, with a frightful +oath, and Sibyll was the first to persuade her father to submit. She +mildly, however, rejected the mule, and the two captives walked together +in the midst of the troop. + +“Pardie!” said the lieutenant, “I see little help to Sir Geoffrey in +these recruits, captain!” + +“Fool!” said the chief, disdainfully, “if the rebellion fail, these +prisoners may save our necks. Will Somers last night was to break into +the house of Sir John Bourchier, for arms and moneys, of which the +knight hath a goodly store. Be sure, Sir John slinked off in the siege, +and this is he and his daughter. Thou knowest he is one of the greatest +knights, and the richest, whom the Yorkists boast of; and we may name +our own price for his ransom.” + +“But where lodge them while we go to the battle?” + +“Ned Porpustone hath a hostelry not far from the camp, and Ned is a good +Lancastrian, and a man to be trusted.” + +“We have not searched the prisoners,” said the lieutenant; “they may +have some gold in their pouches.” + +“Marry, when Will Somers storms a hive, little time does he leave to the +bees to fly away with much money. Nathless, thou mayest search the old +knight, but civilly, and with gentle excuses.” + +“And the damsel?” + +“Nay! that were unmannerly, and the milder our conduct, the larger the +ransom,--when we have great folks to deal with.” + +The lieutenant accordingly fell back to search Adam’s gipsire, which +contained only a book and a file, and then rejoined his captain, without +offering molestation to Sibyll. + +The mistake made by the bravo was at least so far not wholly unfortunate +that the notion of the high quality of the captives--for Sir John +Bourchier was indeed a person of considerable station and importance (a +notion favoured by the noble appearance of the scholar and the +delicate and highborn air of Sibyll)--procured for them all the respect +compatible with the circumstances. They had not gone far before they +entered a village, through which the ruffians marched with the most +perfect impunity; for it was a strange feature in those civil wars that +the mass of the population, except in the northern districts, remained +perfectly supine and neutral. And as the little band halted at a small +inn to drink, the gossips of the village collected round them, with the +same kind of indolent, careless curiosity which is now evinced in some +hamlet at the halt of a stage-coach. Here the captain learned, however, +some intelligence important to his objects,--namely, the night march of +the troop under Lord Hastings, and the probability that the conflict +was already begun. “If so,” muttered the rebel, “we can see how the tide +turns, before we endanger ourselves; and at the worst, our prisoners +will bring something of prize-money.” + +While thus soliloquizing, he spied one of those cumbrous vehicles of +the day called whirlicotes [Whirlicotes were in use from a very early +period, but only among the great, till, in the reign of Richard II., his +queen, Anne, introduced side-saddles, when the whirlicote fell out of +fashion, but might be found at different hostelries on the main roads +for the accommodation of the infirm or aged.] standing in the yard of +the hostelry; and seizing upon it, vi et armis, in spite of all the +cries and protestations of the unhappy landlord, he ordered his captives +to enter, and recommenced his march. + +As the band proceeded farther on their way, they were joined by fresh +troops of the same class as themselves, and they pushed on gayly, till, +about the hour of eight, they halted before the hostelry the captain had +spoken of. It stood a little out of the high road, not very far from +the village of Hadley, and the heath or chase of Gladsmore, on which was +fought, some time afterwards, the battle of Barnet. It was a house of +good aspect, and considerable size, for it was much frequented by all +caravanserais and travellers from the North to the metropolis. The +landlord, at heart a stanch Lancastrian, who had served in the French +wars, and contrived, no one knew how, to save moneys in the course of an +adventurous life, gave to his hostelry the appellation and sign of the +Talbot, in memory of the old hero of that name; and, hiring a tract of +land, joined the occupation of a farmer to the dignity of a host. The +house, which was built round a spacious quadrangle, represented the +double character of its owner, one side being occupied by barns and +a considerable range of stabling, while cows, oxen, and ragged colts +grouped amicably together in a space railed off in the centre of +the yard. At another side ran a large wooden staircase, with an open +gallery, propped on wooden columns, conducting to numerous chambers, +after the fashion of the Tabard in Southwark, immortalized by Chaucer. +Over the archway, on entrance, ran a labyrinth of sleeping lofts for +foot passengers and muleteers; and the side facing the entrance was +nearly occupied by a vast kitchen, the common hall, and the bar, with +the private parlour of the host, and two or three chambers in the second +story. The whirlicote jolted and rattled into the yard. Sibyll and +her father were assisted out of the vehicle, and, after a few words +interchanged with the host, conducted by Master Porpustone himself up +the spacious stairs into a chamber, well furnished and fresh littered, +with repeated assurances of safety, provided they maintained silence, +and attempted no escape. + +“Ye are in time,” said Ned Porpustone to the captain. “Lord Hastings +made proclamation at daybreak that he gave the rebels two hours to +disperse.” + +“Pest! I like not those proclamations. And the fellows stood their +ground?” + +“No; for Sir Geoffrey, like a wise soldier, mended the ground by +retreating a mile to the left, and placing the wood between the Yorkists +and himself. Hastings, by this, must have remarshalled his men. But to +pass the wood is slow work, and Sir Geoffrey’s crossbows are no doubt +doing damage in the covert. Come in, while your fellows snatch a morsel +without; five minutes are not thrown away on filling their bellies.” + +“Thanks, Ned, thou art a good fellow; and if all else fail, why, Sir +John’s ransom shall pay the reckoning. Any news of bold Robin?” + +“Ay, he has ‘scaped with a whole skin, and gone back to the North,” + answered the host, leading the way to his parlour, where a flask of +strong wine and some cold meat awaited his guest. “If Sir Geoffrey Gates +can beat off the York troopers, tell him, from me, not to venture to +London, but to fall back into the marshes. He will be welcome there, I +foreguess; for every northman is either for Warwick or for Lancaster, +and the two must unite now, I trow.” + +“But Warwick is flown!” quoth the captain. + +“Tush! he has only flown as the falcon flies when he has a heron to +fight with,--wheeling and soaring. Woe to the heron when the falcon +swoops! But you drink not!” + +“No; I must keep the head cool to-day; for Hastings is a perilous +captain. Thy fist, friend! If I fall, I leave you Sir John and his girl +to wipe off old scores; if we beat off the Yorkists I vow to Our Lady of +Walsingham an image of wax of the weight of myself.” The marauder then +started up, and strode to his men, who were snatching a hasty meal on +the space before the hostel. He paused a moment or so, while his host +whispered,-- + +“Hastings was here before daybreak: but his men only got the sour beer; +yours fight upon huffcap.” + +“Up, men! to your pikes! Dress to the right!” thundered the captain, +with a sufficient pause between each sentence. “The York lozels have +starved on stale beer,--shall they beat huffcap and Lancaster? Frisk +and fresh-up with the Antelope banner [The antelope was one of the +Lancastrian badges. The special cognizance of Henry VI. was two feathers +in saltire.], and long live Henry the Sixth!” + +The sound of the shout that answered this harangue shook the thin walls +of the chamber in which the prisoners were confined, and they heard +with joy the departing tramp of the soldiers. In a short time, Master +Porpustone himself, a corpulent, burly fellow, with a face by no +means unprepossessing, mounted to the chamber, accompanied by a comely +housekeeper, linked to him, as scandal said, by ties less irksome than +Hymen’s, and both bearing ample provisions, with rich pigment and lucid +clary [clary was wine clarified], which they spread with great formality +on an oak table before their involuntary guest. + +“Eat, your worship, eat!” cried mine host, heartily. “Eat, +lady-bird,--nothing like eating to kill time and banish care. Fortune +of war, Sir John,--fortune of war, never be daunted! Up to-day, down +to-morrow. Come what may--York or Lancaster--still a rich man always +falls on his legs. Five hundred or so to the captain; a noble or two, +out of pure generosity, to Ned Porpustone (I scorn extortion), and you +and the fair young dame may breakfast at home to-morrow, unless the +captain or his favourite lieutenant is taken prisoner; and then, you +see, they will buy off their necks by letting you out of the bag. Eat, I +say,--eat!” + +“Verily,” said Adam, seating himself solemnly, and preparing to obey, “I +confess I’m a hungered, and the pasty hath a savoury odour; but I pray +thee to tell me why I am called Sir John. Adam is my baptismal name.” + +“Ha! ha! good--very good, your honour--to be sure, and your father’s +name before you. We are all sons of Adam, and every son, I trow, has a +just right and a lawful to his father’s name.” + +With that, followed by the housekeeper, the honest landlord, chuckling +heartily, rolled his goodly bulk from the chamber, which he carefully +locked. + +“Comprehendest thou yet, Sibyll?” + +“Yes, dear sir and father, they mistake us for fugitives of mark and +importance; and when they discover their error, no doubt we shall go +free. Courage, dear father!” + +“Me seemeth,” quoth Adam, almost merrily, as the good man filled his cup +from the wine flagon, “me seemeth that, if the mistake could continue, +it would be no weighty misfortune; ha! ha!” He stopped abruptly in the +unwonted laughter, put down the cup; his face fell. “Ah, Heaven forgive +me!--and the poor Eureka and faithful Madge!” + +“Oh, Father! fear not; we are not without protection. Lord Hastings is +returned to London,--we will seek him; he will make our cruel neighbours +respect thee. And Madge--poor Madge!--will be so happy at our return, +for they could not harm her,--a woman, old and alone; no, no, man is not +fierce enough for that.” + +“Let us so pray; but thou eatest not, child.” + +“Anon, Father, anon; I am sick and weary. But, nay--nay, I am better +now,--better. Smile again, Father. I am hungered, too; yes, indeed and +in sooth, yes. Ah, sweet Saint Mary, give me life and strength, and hope +and patience, for his dear sake!” + +The stirring events which had within the last few weeks diversified +the quiet life of the scholar had somewhat roused him from his wonted +abstraction, and made the actual world a more sensible and living thing +than it had hitherto seemed to his mind; but now, his repast ended, the +quiet of the place (for the inn was silent and almost deserted) with the +fumes of the wine--a luxury he rarely tasted--operated soothingly upon +his thought and fancy, and plunged him into those reveries, so dear +alike to poet and mathematician. To the thinker the most trifling +external object often suggests ideas, which, like Homer’s chain, extend, +link after link; from earth to heaven. The sunny motes, that in a +glancing column came through the lattice, called Warner from the real +day,--the day of strife and blood, with thousands hard by driving each +other to the Hades,--and led his scheming fancy into the ideal and +abstract day,--the theory of light itself; and the theory suggested +mechanism, and mechanism called up the memory of his oracle, old Roger +Bacon; and that memory revived the great friar’s hints in the Opus +magnus,--hints which outlined the grand invention of the telescope; and +so, as over some dismal precipice a bird swings itself to and fro upon +the airy bough, the schoolman’s mind played with its quivering fancy, +and folded its calm wings above the verge of terror. + +Occupied with her own dreams, Sibyll respected those of her father; and +so in silence, not altogether mournful, the morning and the noon passed, +and the sun was sloping westward, when a confused sound below called +Sibyll’s gaze to the lattice, which looked over the balustrade of the +staircase into the vast yard. She saw several armed men, their harness +hewed and battered, quaffing ale or wine in haste, and heard one of them +say to the landlord,-- + +“All is lost! Sir Geoffrey Gates still holds out, but it is butcher +work. The troops of Lord Hastings gather round him as a net round the +fish!” + +Hastings!--that name!--he was at hand! he was near! they would be saved! +Sibyll’s heart beat loudly. + +“And the captain?” asked Porpustone. + +“Alive, when I last saw him; but we must be off. In another hour all +will be hurry and skurry, flight and chase.” At this moment from one of +the barns there emerged, one by one, the female vultures of the battle. +The tymbesteres, who had tramped all night to the spot, had slept +off their fatigue during the day, and appeared on the scene as the +neighbouring strife waxed low, and the dead and dying began to cumber +the gory ground. Graul Skellet, tossing up her timbrel, darted to the +fugitives and grinned a ghastly grin when she heard the news,--for the +tymbesteres were all loyal to a king who loved women, and who had a wink +and a jest for every tramping wench! The troopers tarried not, however, +for further converse, but, having satisfied their thirst, hurried and +clattered from the yard. At the sight of the ominous tymbesteres Sibyll +had drawn back, without daring to close the lattice she had opened; and +the women, seating themselves on a bench, began sleeking their long hair +and smoothing their garments from the scraps of straw and litter which +betokened the nature of their resting-place. + +“Ho, girls!” said the fat landlord, “ye will pay me for board and bed, +I trust, by a show of your craft. I have two right worshipful lodgers +up yonder, whose lattice looks on the yard, and whom ye may serve to +divert.” + +Sibyll trembled, and crept to her father’s side. + +“And,” continued the landlord, “if they like the clash of your musicals, +it may bring ye a groat or so, to help ye on your journey. By the way, +whither wend ye, wenches?” + +“To a bonny, jolly fair,” answered the sinister voice of Graul,-- + + “Where a mighty SHOWMAN dyes + The greenery into red; + Where, presto! at the word + Lies his Fool without a head; + Where he gathers in the crowd + To the trumpet and the drum, + With a jingle and a tinkle, + Graul’s merry lasses come!” + +As the two closing lines were caught by the rest of the tymbesteres, +striking their timbrels, the crew formed themselves into a semicircle, +and commenced their dance. Their movements, though wanton and fantastic, +were not without a certain wild grace; and the address with which, +from time to time, they cast up their instruments and caught them +in descending, joined to the surprising agility with which, in the +evolutions of the dance, one seemed now to chase, now to fly from, the +other, darting to and fro through the ranks of her companions, winding +and wheeling,--the chain now seemingly broken in disorder, now +united link to link, as the whole force of the instruments clashed in +chorus,--made an exhibition inexpressibly attractive to the vulgar. + +The tymbesteres, however, as may well be supposed, failed to draw +Sibyll or Warner to the window; and they exchanged glances of spite and +disappointment. + +“Marry,” quoth the landlord, after a hearty laugh at the diversion, “I +do wrong to be so gay, when so many good friends perhaps are lying stark +and cold. But what then? Life is short,--laugh while we can!” + +“Hist!” whispered his housekeeper; “art wode, Ned? Wouldst thou have +it discovered that thou hast such quality birds in the cage--noble +Yorkists--at the very time when Lord Hastings himself may be riding this +way after the victory?” + +“Always right, Meg,--and I’m an ass!” answered the host, in the same +undertone. “But my good nature will be the death of me some day. Poor +gentlefolks, they must be unked dull, yonder!” + +“If the Yorkists come hither,--which we shall soon know by the +scouts,--we must shift Sir John and the damsel to the back of the house, +over thy tap-room.” + +“Manage it as thou wilt, Meg; but thou seest they keep quiet and snug. +Ho, ho, ho! that tall tymbestere is supple enough to make an owl hold +his sides with laughing. Ah! hollo, there, tymbesteres, ribaudes, +tramps, the devil’s chickens,--down, down!” + +The host was too late in his order. With a sudden spring, Graul, who had +long fixed her eye on the open lattice of the prisoners, had wreathed +herself round one of the pillars that supported the stairs, swung +lightly over the balustrade; and with a faint shriek the startled Sibyll +beheld the tymbestere’s hard, fierce eyes, glaring upon her through the +lattice, as her long arm extended the timbrel for largess. But no sooner +had Sibyll raised her face than she was recognized. + +“Ho, the wizard and the wizard’s daughter! Ho, the girl who glamours +lords, and wears sarcenet and lawn! Ho, the nigromancer who starves the +poor!” + +At the sound of their leader’s cry, up sprang, up climbed the hellish +sisters! One after the other, they darted through the lattice into the +chamber. + +“The ronions! the foul fiend has distraught them!” groaned the landlord, +motionless with astonishment; but the more active Meg, calling to the +varlets and scullions, whom the tymbesteres had collected in the yard, +to follow her, bounded up the stairs, unlocked the door, and arrived +in time to throw herself between the captives and the harpies, whom +Sibyll’s rich super-tunic and Adam’s costly gown had inflamed into all +the rage of appropriation. + +“What mean ye, wretches?” cried the bold Meg, purple with anger. “Do +ye come for this into honest folk’s hostelries, to rob their guests in +broad day--noble guests--guests of mark! Oh, Sir John! Sir John! what +will ye think of us?” + +“Oh, Sir John! Sir John!” groaned the landlord, who had now moved his +slow bulk into the room. “They shall be scourged, Sir John! They shall +be put in the stocks, they shall be brent with hot iron, they--” + +“Ha, ha!” interrupted the terrible Graul, “guests of mark! noble guests, +trow ye! Adam Warner, the wizard, and his daughter, whom we drove last +night from their den, as many a time, sisters, and many, we have driven +the rats from charnel and cave.” + +“Wizard! Adam! Blood of my life!” stammered the landlord, “is his name +Adam after all?” + +“My name is Adam Warner,” said the old man, with dignity, “no wizard--a +humble scholar, and a poor gentleman, who has injured no one. Wherefore, +women--if women ye are--would ye injure mine and me?” + +“Faugh, wizard!” returned Graul, folding her arms. “Didst thou not send +thy spawn, yonder, to spoil our mart with her gittern? Hast thou not +taught her the spells to win love from the noble and young? Ho, how +daintily the young witch robes herself! Ho, laces and satins, and we +shiver with the cold, and parch with the heat--and--doff thy tunic, +minion!” + +And Graul’s fierce gripe was on the robe, when the landlord interposed +his huge arm, and held her at bay. + +“Softly, my sucking dove, softly! Clear the room and be off!” + +“Look to thyself, man. If thou harbourest a wizard against law,--a +wizard whom King Edward hath given up to the people,--look to thy +barns,--they shall burn; look to thy cattle,--they shall rot; look to +thy secrets,--they shall be told. Lancastrian, thou shalt hang! We go! +we go! We have friends amongst the mailed men of York. We go,--we will +return! Woe to thee, if thou harbourest the wizard and the succuba!” + +With that Graul moved slowly to the door. Host and housekeeper, varlet, +groom, and scullion made way for her in terror; and still, as she moved, +she kept her eyes on Sibyll, till her sisters, following in successive +file, shut out the hideous aspect: and Meg, ordering away her gaping +train, closed the door. + +The host and the housekeeper then gazed gravely at each other. Sibyll +lay in her father’s arms breathing hard and convulsively. The old man’s +face bent over her in silence. Meg drew aside her master. “You must rid +the house at once of these folks. I have heard talk of yon tymbesteres; +they are awsome in spite and malice. Every man to himself!” + +“But the poor old gentleman, so mild, and the maid, so winsome!” + +The last remark did not over-please the comely Meg. She advanced at once +to Adam, and said shortly,-- + +“Master, whether wizard or not is no affair of a poor landlord, whose +house is open to all; but ye have had food and wine,--please to pay the +reckoning, and God speed ye; ye are free to depart.” + +“We can pay you, mistress!” exclaimed Sibyll, springing up. “We have +moneys yet. Here, here!” and she took from her gipsire the broad pieces +which poor Madge’s precaution had placed therein, and which the bravoes +had fortunately spared. + +The sight of the gold somewhat softened the housewife. “Lord Hastings is +known to us,” continued Sibyll, perceiving the impression she had +made; “suffer us to rest here till he pass this way, and ye will find +yourselves repaid for the kindness.” + +“By my troth,” said the landlord, “ye are most welcome to all my poor +house containeth; and as for these tymbesteres, I value them not a +straw. No one can say Ned Porpustone is an ill man or inhospitable. +Whoever can pay reasonably is sure of good wine and civility at the +Talbot.” + +With these and many similar protestations and assurances, which were +less heartily re-echoed by the housewife, the landlord begged to conduct +them to an apartment not so liable to molestation; and after having led +them down the principal stairs, through the bar, and thence up a narrow +flight of steps, deposited them in a chamber at the back of the house, +and lighted a sconce therein, for it was now near the twilight. He +then insisted on seeing after their evening meal, and vanished with his +assistant. The worthy pair were now of the same mind; for guests known +to Lord Hastings it was worth braving the threats of the tymbesteres; +especially since Lord Hastings, it seems, had just beaten the +Lancastrians. + +But alas! while the active Meg was busy on the hippocras, and the worthy +landlord was inspecting the savoury operations of the kitchen, a vast +uproar was heard without. A troop of disorderly Yorkist soldiers, who +had been employed in dispersing the flying rebels, rushed helter-skelter +into the house, and poured into the kitchen, bearing with them the +detested tymbesteres, who had encountered them on their way. Among these +soldiers were those who had congregated at Master Sancroft’s the day +before, and they were well prepared to support the cause of their +griesly paramours. Lord Hastings himself had retired for the night to +a farmhouse nearer the field of battle than the hostel; and as in those +days discipline was lax enough after a victory, the soldiers had a right +to license. Master Porpustone found himself completely at the mercy +of these brawling customers, the more rude and disorderly from the +remembrance of the sour beer in the morning, and Graul Skellet’s +assurances that Master Porpustone was a malignant Lancastrian. They laid +hands on all the provisions in the house, tore the meats from the spit, +devouring them half raw; set the casks running over the floors; and +while they swilled and swore, and filled the place with the uproar of a +hell broke loose, Graul Skellet, whom the lust for the rich garments of +Sibyll still fired and stung, led her followers up the stairs towards +the deserted chamber. Mine host perceived, but did not dare openly to +resist the foray; but as he was really a good-natured knave, and as, +moreover, he feared ill consequences might ensue if any friends of Lord +Hastings were spoiled, outraged,--nay, peradventure murdered,--in his +house, he resolved, at all events, to assist the escape of his guests. +Seeing the ground thus clear of the tymbesteres, he therefore stole from +the riotous scene, crept up the back stairs, gained the chamber to which +he had so happily removed his persecuted lodgers, and making them, in a +few words, sensible that he was no longer able to protect them, and +that the tymbesteres were now returned with an armed force to back their +malice, conducted them safely to a wide casement only some three or four +feet from the soil of the solitary garden, and bade them escape and save +themselves. + +“The farm,” he whispered, “where they say my Lord Hastings is quartered +is scarcely a mile and a half away; pass the garden wicket, leave +Gladsmore Chase to the left hand, take the path to the right, through +the wood, and you will see its roof among the apple-blossoms. Our Lady +protect you, and say a word to my lord on behalf of poor Ned.” + +Scarce had he seen his guests descend into the garden before he heard +the yell of the tymbesteres, in the opposite part of the house, as +they ran from room to room after their prey. He hastened to regain the +kitchen; and presently the tymbesteres, breathless and panting, rushed +in, and demanded their victims. + +“Marry,” quoth the landlord, with the self-possession of a cunning old +soldier-“think ye I cumbered my house with such cattle after pretty +lasses like you had given me the inkling of what they were? No wizard +shall fly away with the sign of the Talbot, if I can help it. They +skulked off I can promise ye, and did not even mount a couple of +broomsticks which I handsomely offered for their ride up to London.” + +“Thunder and bombards!” cried a trooper, already half-drunk, and seizing +Graul in his iron arms, “put the conjuror out of thine head now, and +buss me, Graul, buss me!” + +Then the riot became hideous; the soldiers, following their comrade’s +example, embraced the grim glee-women, tearing and hauling them to and +fro, one from the other, round and round, dancing, hallooing, chanting, +howling, by the blaze of a mighty fire,--many a rough face and hard hand +smeared with blood still wet, communicating the stain to the cheeks and +garb of those foul feres, and the whole revel becoming so unutterably +horrible and ghastly, that even the veteran landlord fled from the spot, +trembling and crossing himself. And so, streaming athwart the lattice, +and silvering over that fearful merry-making, rose the moon. + +But when fatigue and drunkenness had done their work, and the soldiers +fell one over the other upon the floor, the tables, the benches, into +the heavy sleep of riot, Graul suddenly rose from amidst the huddled +bodies, and then, silently as ghouls from a burial-ground, her sisters +emerged also from their resting-places beside the sleepers. The dying +light of the fire contended but feebly with the livid rays of the moon, +and played fantastically over the gleaming robes of the tymbesteres. +They stood erect for a moment, listening, Graul with her finger on +her lips; then they glided to the door, opened and reclosed it, darted +across the yard, scaring the beasts that slept there; the watch-dog +barked, but drew back, bristling, and showing his fangs, as Red Grisell, +undaunted, pointed her knife, and Graul flung him a red peace-sop of +meat. They launched themselves through the open entrance, gained the +space beyond, and scoured away to the battlefield. + +Meanwhile, Sibyll and her father were still under the canopy of heaven, +they had scarcely passed the garden and entered the fields, when they +saw horsemen riding to and fro in all directions. Sir Geoffrey Gates, +the rebel leader, had escaped; the reward of three hundred marks was set +on his head, and the riders were in search of the fugitive. The human +form itself had become a terror to the hunted outcasts; they crept under +a thick hedge till the horsemen had disappeared, and then resumed their +way. They gained the wood; but there again they halted at the sound +of voices, and withdrew themselves under covert of some entangled +and trampled bushes. This time it was but a party of peasants, whom +curiosity had led to see the field of battle, and who were now returning +home. Peasants and soldiers both were human, and therefore to be shunned +by those whom the age itself put out of the pale of law. At last the +party also left the path free; and now it was full night. They pursued +their way, they cleared the wood; before them lay the field of battle; +and a deeper silence seemed to fall over the world! The first stars had +risen, but not yet the moon. The gleam of armour from prostrate bodies, +which it had mailed in vain, reflected the quiet rays; here and there +flickered watchfires, where sentinels were set, but they were scattered +and remote. The outcasts paused and shuddered, but there seemed no +holier way for their feet; and the roof of the farmer’s homestead +slept on the opposite side of the field, amidst white orchard blossoms, +whitened still more by the stars. They went on, hand in hand,--the +dead, after all, were less terrible than the living. Sometimes a stern, +upturned face, distorted by the last violent agony, the eyes unclosed +and glazed, encountered them with its stony stare; but the weapon was +powerless in the stiff hand, the menace and the insult came not from +the hueless lips; persecution reposed, at last, in the lap of slaughter. +They had gone midway through the field, when they heard from a spot +where the corpses lay thickest piled, a faint voice calling upon God for +pardon; and, suddenly, it was answered by a tone of fiercer agony,--that +did not pray, but curse. + +By a common impulse, the gentle wanderers moved silently to the spot. + +The sufferer in prayer was a youth scarcely passed from boyhood: his +helm had been cloven, his head was bare, and his long light hair, +clotted with gore, fell over his shoulders. Beside him lay a +strong-built, powerful form, which writhed in torture, pierced under +the arm by a Yorkist arrow, and the shaft still projecting from the +wound,--and the man’s curse answered the boy’s prayer. + +“Peace to thy parting soul, brother!” said Warner, bending over the man. + +“Poor sufferer!” said Sibyll to the boy; “cheer thee, we will send +succour; thou mayest live yet!” + +“Water! water!--hell and torture!--water, I say!” groaned the man; “one +drop of water!” + +It was the captain of the maurauders who had captured the wanderers. + +“Thine arm! lift me! move me! That evil man scares my soul from heaven!” + gasped the boy. + +And Adam preached penitence to the one that cursed, and Sibyll knelt +down and prayed with the one that prayed. And up rose the moon! + +Lord Hastings sat with his victorious captains--over mead, morat, and +wine--in the humble hall of the farm. + +“So,” said he, “we have crushed the last embers of the rebellion! This +Sir Geoffrey Gates is a restless and resolute spirit; pity he escapes +again for further mischief. But the House of Nevile, that overshadowed +the rising race, hath fallen at last,--a waisall, brave sirs, to the new +men!” + +The door was thrown open, and an old soldier entered abruptly. + +“My lord! my lord! Oh, my poor son! he cannot be found! The women, who +ever follow the march of soldiers, will be on the ground to despatch the +wounded, that they may rifle the corpses! O God! if my son, my boy, my +only son--” + +“I wist not, my brave Mervil, that thou hadst a son in our bands; yet I +know each man by name and sight. Courage! Our wounded have been removed, +and sentries are placed to guard the field.” + +“Sentries! O my lord, knowest thou not that they wink at the crime that +plunders the dead? Moreover, these corpse-riflers creep stealthily and +unseen, as the red earth-worms, to the carcass. Give me some few of thy +men, give me warrant to search the field! My son, my boy--not sixteen +summers--and his mother!” + +The man stopped, and sobbed. + +“Willingly!” said the gentle Hastings, “willingly! And woe to the +sentries if it be as thou sayest! I will go myself and see! Torches +there--what ho!--the good captain careth even for his dead!--Thy son! I +marvel I knew him not! Whom served he under?” + +“My lord! my lord! pardon him! He is but a boy--they misled him! he +fought for the rebels. He crossed my path to-day, my arm was raised; we +knew each other, and he fled from his father’s sword! Just as the strife +was ended I saw him again, I saw him fall!--Oh, mercy, mercy! do not let +him perish of his wounds or by the rifler’s knife, even though a rebel!” + +“Homo sum!” quoth the noble chief; “I am a man; and, even in these +bloody times, Nature commands when she speaks in a father’s voice! +Mervil, I marked thee to-day! Thou art a brave fellow. I meant thee +advancement; I give thee, instead, thy son’s pardon, if he lives; ten +Masses if he died as a soldier’s son should die, no matter under what +flag,--antelope or lion, pierced manfully in the breast, his feet to the +foe! Come, I will search with thee!” + +The boy yielded up his soul while Sibyll prayed, and her sweet voice +soothed the last pang; and the man ceased to curse while Adam spoke of +God’s power and mercy, and his breath ebbed, gasp upon gasp, away. While +thus detained, the wanderers saw not pale, fleeting figures, that had +glided to the ground, and moved, gleaming, irregular, and rapid, as +marsh-fed vapours, from heap to heap of the slain. With a loud, wild +cry, the robber Lancastrian half sprung to his feet, in the paroxysm of +the last struggle, and then fell on his face, a corpse! + +The cry reached the tymbesteres, and Graul rose from a body from which +she had extracted a few coins smeared with blood, and darted to the +spot; and so, as Adam raised his face from contemplating the dead, whose +last moments he had sought to soothe, the Alecto of the battlefield +stood before him, her knife bare in her gory arm. Red Grisell, who had +just left (with a spurn of wrath--for the pouch was empty) the corpse of +a soldier, round whose neck she had twined her hot clasp the day before, +sprang towards Sibyll; the rest of the sisterhood flocked to the place, +and laughed in glee as they beheld their unexpected prey. The danger +was horrible and imminent; no pity was seen in those savage eyes. The +wanderers prepared for death--when, suddenly, torches flashed over +the ground. A cry was heard, “See, the riflers of the dead!” Armed men +bounded forward, and the startled wretches uttered a shrill, unearthly +scream, and fled from the spot, leaping over the carcasses, and doubling +and winding, till they had vanished into the darkness of the wood. + +“Provost!” said a commanding voice, “hang me up those sentinels at +day-break!” + +“My son! my boy! speak, Hal,--speak to me. He is here, he is found!” + exclaimed the old soldier, kneeling beside the corpse at Sibyll’s feet. + +“My lord! my beloved! my Hastings!” And Sibyll fell insensible before +the chief. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. THE SUBTLE CRAFT OF RICHARD OF GLOUCESTER. + +It was some weeks after the defeat of Sir Geoffrey Gates, and Edward +was at Shene, with his gay court. Reclined at length within a pavilion +placed before a cool fountain, in the royal gardens, and surrounded +by his favourites, the king listened indolently to the music of his +minstrels, and sleeked the plumage of his favourite falcon, perched upon +his wrist. And scarcely would it have been possible to recognize in +that lazy voluptuary the dauntless soldier, before whose lance, as deer +before the hound, had so lately fled, at bloody Erpingham, the chivalry +of the Lancastrian Rose; but remote from the pavilion, and in one of the +deserted bowling alleys, Prince Richard and Lord Montagu walked apart, +in earnest conversation. The last of these noble personages had remained +inactive during these disturbances, and Edward had not seemed to +entertain any suspicion of his participation in the anger and revenge +of Warwick. The king took from him, it is true, the lands and earldom of +Northumberland, and restored them to the Percy, but he had accompanied +this act with gracious excuses, alleging the necessity of conciliating +the head of an illustrious House, which had formally entered into +allegiance to the dynasty of York, and bestowed upon his early +favourite, in compensation, the dignity of marquis. [Montagu said +bitterly of this new dignity, “He takes from me the Earldom and domains +of Northumberland, and makes me a Marquis, with a pie’s nest to maintain +it withal.”--STOWE: Edward IV.--Warkworth Chronicle.] The politic king, +in thus depriving Montagu of the wealth and the retainers of the +Percy, reduced him, as a younger brother, to a comparative poverty +and insignificance, which left him dependent on Edward’s favour, and +deprived him, as he thought, of the power of active mischief; at the +same time more than ever he insisted on Montagu’s society, and +summoning his attendance at the court, kept his movements in watchful +surveillance. + +“Nay, my lord,” said Richard, pursuing with much unction the +conversation he had commenced, “you wrong me much, Holy Paul be my +witness, if you doubt the deep sorrow I feel at the unhappy events which +have led to the severance of my kinsmen! England seems to me to have +lost its smile in losing the glory of Earl Warwick’s presence, and +Clarence is my brother, and was my friend; and thou knowest, Montagu, +thou knowest, how dear to my heart was the hope to win for my wife and +lady the gentle Anne.” + +“Prince,” said Montagu, abruptly, “though the pride of Warwick and the +honour of our House may have forbidden the public revelation of the +cause which fired my brother to rebellion, thou, at least, art privy to +a secret--” + +“Cease!” exclaimed Richard, in great emotion, probably sincere, for his +face grew livid, and its muscles were nervously convulsed. “I would not +have that remembrance stirred from its dark repose. I would fain forget +a brother’s hasty frenzy, in the belief of his lasting penitence.” He +paused and turned his face, gasped for breath, and resumed: “The cause +justified the father; it had justified me in the father’s cause, had +Warwick listened to my suit, and given me the right to deem insult to +his daughter injury to myself.” + +“And if, my prince,” returned Montagu, looking round him, and in a +subdued whisper, “if yet the hand of Lady Anne were pledged to you?” + +“Tempt me not, tempt me not!” cried the prince, crossing himself. +Montagu continued,-- + +“Our cause, I mean Lord Warwick’s cause, is not lost, as the king deems +it.” + +“Proceed,” said Richard, casting down his eyes, while his countenance +settled back into its thoughtful calm. + +“I mean,” renewed Montagu, “that in my brother’s flight, his retainers +were taken by surprise. In vain the king would confiscate his lands,--he +cannot confiscate men’s hearts. If Warwick to-morrow set his armed heel +upon the soil, trowest thou, sagacious and clear-judging prince, that +the strife which would follow would be but another field of Losecote? +[The battle of Erpingham, so popularly called, in contempt of the rebel +lions runaways.] Thou hast heard of the honours with which King Louis +has received the earl. Will that king grudge him ships and moneys? And +meanwhile, thinkest thou that his favourers sleep?” + +“But if he land, Montagu,” said Richard, who seemed to listen with an +attention that awoke all the hopes of Montagu, coveting so powerful an +ally--“if he land, and make open war on Edward--we must say the word +boldly--what intent can he proclaim? It is not enough to say King Edward +shall not reign; the earl must say also what king England should elect!” + +“Prince,” answered Montagu, “before I reply to that question, vouchsafe +to hear my own hearty desire and wish. Though the king has deeply +wronged my brother, though he has despoiled me of the lands, which were, +peradventure, not too large a reward for twenty victories in his cause, +and restored them to the House that ever ranked amongst the strongholds +of his Lancastrian foe, yet often when I am most resentful, the memory +of my royal seigneur’s past love and kindness comes over me,--above all, +the thought of the solemn contract between his daughter and my son; and +I feel (now the first heat of natural anger at an insult offered to +my niece is somewhat cooled) that if Warwick did land, I could almost +forget my brother for my king.” + +“Almost!” repeated Richard, smiling. + +“I am plain with your Highness, and say but what I feel. I would even +now fain trust that, by your mediation, the king may be persuaded to +make such concessions and excuses as in truth would not misbeseem him, +to the father of Lady Anne, and his own kinsman; and that yet, ere it +be too late, I may be spared the bitter choice between the ties of blood +and my allegiance to the king.” + +“But failing this hope (which I devoutly share),--and Edward, it must be +owned, could scarcely trust to a letter,--still less to a messenger, the +confession of a crime,--failing this, and your brother land, and I side +with him for love of Anne, pledged to me as a bride,--what king would he +ask England to elect?” + +“The Duke of Clarence loves you dearly, Lord Richard,” replied Montagu. +“Knowest thou not how often he hath said, ‘By sweet Saint George, if +Gloucester would join me, I would make Edward know we were all one man’s +sons, who should be more preferred and promoted than strangers of his +wife’s blood?’” [Hall.] + +Richard’s countenance for a moment evinced disappointment; but he said +dryly: “Then Warwick would propose that Clarence should be king?--and +the great barons and the honest burghers and the sturdy yeomen would, +you think, not stand aghast at the manifesto which declares, not that +the dynasty of York is corrupt and faulty, but that the younger son +should depose the elder,--that younger son, mark me! not only unknown in +war and green in council, but gay, giddy, vacillating; not subtle of wit +and resolute of deed, as he who so aspires should be!--Montagu, a vain +dream!”--Richard paused and then resumed, in a low tone, as to himself, +“Oh, not so--not so are kings cozened from their thrones! a pretext +must blind men,--say they are illegitimate, say they are too young, too +feeble, too anything, glide into their place, and then, not war--not +war. You slay them not,--they disappear!” The duke’s face, as he +muttered, took a sinister and a dark expression, his eyes seemed to gaze +on space. Suddenly recovering himself as from a revery, he turned, with +his wonted sleek and gracious aspect, to the startled Montagu, and said, +“I was but quoting from Italian history, good my lord,--wise lore, but +terrible and murderous. Return we to the point. Thou seest Clarence +could not reign, and as well,” added the prince, with a slight +sigh,--“as well or better (for, without vanity, I have more of a king’s +mettle in me), might I--even I--aspire to my brother’s crown!” Here he +paused, and glanced rapidly and keenly at the marquis; but whether +or not in these words he had sought to sound Montagu, and that glance +sufficed to show him it were bootless or dangerous to speak more +plainly, he resumed with an altered voice, “Enough of this: Warwick will +discover the idleness of such design; and if he land, his trumpets +must ring to a more kindling measure. John Montagu, thinkest thou that +Margaret of Anjou and the Lancastrians will not rather win thy brother +to their side? There is the true danger to Edward,--none elsewhere.” + +“And if so?” said Montagu, watching his listener’s countenance. Richard +started, and gnawed his lip. “Mark me,” continued the marquis, “I repeat +that I would fain hope yet that Edward may appease the earl; but if not, +and, rather than rest dishonoured and aggrieved, Warwick link himself +with Lancaster, and thou join him as Anne’s betrothed and lord, what +matters who the puppet on the throne?--we and thou shall be the rulers; +or, if thou reject,” added the marquis, artfully, as he supposed, +exciting the jealousy of the duke, “Henry has a son--a fair, and they +say, a gallant prince--carefully tutored in the knowledge of our English +laws, and who my lord of Oxford, somewhat in the confidence of the +Lancastrians, assures me would rejoice to forget old feuds, and call +Warwick ‘father,’ and my niece ‘Lady and Princess of Wales.’” + +With all his dissimulation, Richard could ill conceal the emotions of +fear, of jealousy, of dismay, which these words excited. + +“Lord Oxford!” he cried, stamping his foot. “Ha, John de Vere, pestilent +traitor, plottest thou thus? But we can yet seize thy person, and will +have thy head.” + +Alarmed at this burst, and suddenly made aware that he had laid his +breast too bare to the boy, whom he had thought to dazzle and seduce to +his designs, Montagu said falteringly, “But, my lord, our talk is but +in confidence: at your own prayer, with your own plighted word of prince +and of kinsman, that whatever my frankness may utter should not pass +farther. Take,” added the nobleman, with proud dignity--“take my head +rather than Lord Oxford’s; for I deserve death, if I reveal to one who +can betray the loose words of another’s intimacy and trust!” + +“Forgive me, my cousin,” said Richard, meekly; “my love to Anne +transported me too far. Lord Oxford’s words, as you report them, had +conjured up a rival, and--but enough of this. And now,” added the +prince, gravely, and with a steadiness of voice and manner that gave a +certain majesty to his small stature, “now as thou hast spoken openly, +openly also will I reply. I feel the wrong to the Lady Anne as to +myself; deeply, burningly, and lastingly, will it live in my mind; it +may be, sooner or later, to rise to gloomy deeds, even against Edward +and Edward’s blood. But no, I have the king’s solemn protestations +of repentance; his guilty passion has burned into ashes, and he now +sighs--gay Edward--for a lighter fere. I cannot join with Clarence, +less can I join with the Lancastrians. My birth makes me the prop of the +throne of York,--to guard it as a heritage (who knows?) that may descend +to mine,--nay, to me! And, mark me well if Warwick attempt a war of +fratricide, he is lost; if, on the other hand, he can submit himself to +the hands of Margaret, stained with his father’s gore, the success of an +hour will close in the humiliation of a life. There is a third way +left, and that way thou hast piously and wisely shown. Let him, like +me, resign revenge, and, not exacting a confession and a cry of peccavi, +which no king, much less King Edward the Plantagenet, can whimper forth, +let him accept such overtures as his liege can make. His titles and +castles shall be restored, equal possessions to those thou hast lost +assigned to thee, and all my guerdon (if I can so negotiate) as all my +ambition, his daughter’s hand. Muse on this, and for the peace and weal +of the realm so limit all thy schemes, my lord and cousin!” + +With these words the prince pressed the hand of the marquis, and walked +slowly towards the king’s pavilion. + +“Shame on my ripe manhood and lore of life,” muttered Montagu, enraged +against himself, and deeply mortified. “How sentence by sentence and +step by step yon crafty pigmy led me on, till all our projects, all our +fears and hopes, are revealed to him who but views them as a foe. Anne +betrothed to one who even in fiery youth can thus beguile and dupe! +Warwick decoyed hither upon fair words, at the will of one whom Italy +(boy, there thou didst forget thy fence of cunning!) has taught how the +great are slain not, but disappear! no, even this defeat instructs me +now. But right, right! the reign of Clarence is impossible, and that +of Lancaster is ill-omened and portentous; and after all, my son stands +nearer to the throne than any subject, in his alliance with the Lady +Elizabeth. Would to Heaven the king could yet--But out on me! this is +no hour for musing on mine own aggrandizement; rather let me fly at +once and warn Oxford--imperilled by my imprudence--against that dark eye +which hath set watch upon his life.” + +At that thought, which showed that Montagu, with all his worldliness, +was not forgetful of one of the first duties of knight and gentleman, +the marquis hastened up the alley, in the opposite direction to that +taken by Gloucester, and soon found himself in the courtyard, where a +goodly company were mounting their haquenees and palfreys, to enjoy a +summer ride through the neighbouring chase. The cold and half-slighting +salutations of these minions of the hour, which now mortified the +Nevile, despoiled of the possessions that had rewarded his long and +brilliant services, contrasting forcibly the reverential homage he had +formerly enjoyed, stung Montagu to the quick. + +“Whither ride you, brother Marquis?” said young Lord Dorset (Elizabeth’s +son by her first marriage), as Montagu called to his single squire, who +was in waiting with his horse. “Some secret expedition, methinks, for +I have known the day when the Lord Montagu never rode from his king’s +palace with less than thirty squires.” + +“Since my Lord Dorset prides himself on his memory,” answered the +scornful lord, “he may remember also the day when, if a Nevile mounted +in haste, he bade the first Woodville he saw hold the stirrup.” + +And regarding “the brother marquis” with a stately eye that silenced and +awed retort, the long-descended Montagu passed the courtiers, and +rode slowly on till out of sight of the palace; he then pushed into a +hand-gallop, and halted not till he had reached London, and gained the +house in which then dwelt the Earl of Oxford, the most powerful of all +the Lancastrian nobles not in exile, and who had hitherto temporized +with the reigning House. + +Two days afterwards the news reached Edward that Lord Oxford and Jasper +of Pembroke--uncle to the boy afterwards Henry VII.--had sailed from +England. + +The tidings reached the king in his chamber, where he was closeted with +Gloucester. The conference between them seemed to have been warm and +earnest, for Edward’s face was flushed, and Gloucester’s brow was +perturbed and sullen. + +“Now Heaven be praised!” cried the king, extending to Richard the letter +which communicated the flight of the disaffected lords. “We have +two enemies the less in our roiaulme, and many a barony the more to +confiscate to our kingly wants. Ha, ha! these Lancastrians only serve to +enrich us. Frowning still, Richard? smile, boy!” + +“Foi de mon ame, Edward,” said Richard, with a bitter energy, strangely +at variance with his usual unctious deference to the king, “your +Highness’s gayety is ill-seasoned; you reject all the means to assure +your throne, you rejoice in all the events that imperil it. I prayed you +to lose not a moment in conciliating, if possible, the great lord whom +you own you have wronged, and you replied that you would rather lose +your crown than win back the arm that gave it you.” + +“Gave it me! an error, Richard! that crown was at once the heritage of +my own birth and the achievement of my own sword. But were it as you +say, it is not in a king’s nature to bear the presence of a power more +formidable than his own, to submit to a voice that commands rather than +counsels; and the happiest chance that ever befell me is the exile of +this earl. How, after what hath chanced, can I ever see his face again +without humiliation, or he mine without resentment?” + +“So you told me anon, and I answered, if that be so, and your Highness +shrinks from the man you have injured, beware at least that Warwick, if +he may not return as a friend, come not back as an irresistible foe. If +you will not conciliate, crush! Hasten by all arts to separate Clarence +from Warwick. Hasten to prevent the union of the earl’s popularity and +Henry’s rights. Keep eye upon all the Lancastrian lords, and see that +none quit the realm where they are captives, to join a camp where they +can rise into leaders. And at the very moment I urge you to place strict +watch upon Oxford, to send your swiftest riders to seize Jasper of +Pembroke, you laugh with glee to hear that Oxford and Pembroke are gone +to swell the army of your foes!” + +“Better foes out of my realm than in it,” answered Edward, dryly. + +“My liege, I say no more,” and Richard rose. “I would forestall a +danger; it but remains for me to share it.” + +The king was touched. “Tarry yet, Richard,” he said; and then, fixing +his brother’s eye, he continued, with a half smile and a heightened +colour, “though we knew thee true and leal to us, we yet know also, +Richard, that thou hast personal interest in thy counsels. Thou wouldst +by one means or another soften or constrain the earl into giving thee +the hand of Anne. Well, then, grant that Warwick and Clarence expel King +Edward from his throne, they may bring a bride to console thee for the +ruin of a brother.” + +“Thou hast no right to taunt or to suspect me, my liege,” returned +Richard, with a quiver in his lip. “Thou hast included me in thy +meditated wrong to Warwick; and had that wrong been done--” + +“Peradventure it had made thee espouse Warwick’s quarrel?” + +“Bluntly, yes!” exclaimed Richard, almost fiercely, and playing with his +dagger. “But” (he added, with a sudden change of voice) “I understand +and know thee better than the earl did or could. I know what in thee +is but thoughtless impulse, haste of passion, the habit kings form of +forgetting all things save the love or hate, the desire or anger, of a +moment. Thou hast told me thyself, and with tears, of thy offence; thou +hast pardoned my boy’s burst of anger; I have pardoned thy evil thought; +thou hast told me thyself that another face has succeeded to the brief +empire of Anne’s blue eye, and hast further pledged me thy kingly +word, that if I can yet compass the hand of a cousin dear to me from +childhood, thou wilt confirm the union.” + +“It is true,” said Edward. “But if thou wed thy bride, keep her aloof +from the court,--nay, frown not, my boy, I mean simply that I would not +blush before my brother’s wife!” + +Richard bowed low in order to conceal the expression of his face, +and went on without further notice of the explanation. “And all +this considered, Edward, I swear by Saint Paul, the holiest saint to +thoughtful men, and by Saint George, the noblest patron to high-born +warriors, that thy crown and thine honour are as dear to me as if they +were mine own. Whatever sins Richard of Gloucester may live to harbour +and repent, no man shall ever say of him that he was a recreant to the +honour of his country [so Lord Bacon observes of Richard, with that +discrimination, even in the strongest censure, of which profound judges +of mankind are alone capable, that he was “a king jealous of the honor +of the English nation”], or slow to defend the rights of his ancestors +from the treason of a vassal or the sword of a foreign foe. Therefore, I +say again, if thou reject my honest counsels; if thou suffer Warwick +to unite with Lancaster and France; if the ships of Louis bear to your +shores an enemy, the might of whom your reckless daring undervalues, +foremost in the field in battle, nearest to your side in exile, +shall Richard Plantagenet be found!” These words, being uttered with +sincerity, and conveying a promise never forfeited, were more impressive +than the subtlest eloquence the wily and accomplished Gloucester ever +employed as the cloak to guile, and they so affected Edward, that he +threw his arms around his brother; and after one of those bursts of +emotion which were frequent in one whose feelings were never deep and +lasting, but easily aroused and warmly spoken, he declared himself +really to listen to and adopt all means which Richard’s art could +suggest for the better maintenance of their common weal and interests. + +And then, with that wondrous, if somewhat too restless and over-refining +energy which belonged to him, Richard rapidly detailed the scheme of his +profound and dissimulating policy. His keen and intuitive insight into +human nature had shown him the stern necessity which, against their very +will, must unite Warwick with Margaret of Anjou. His conversation with +Montagu had left no doubt of that peril on his penetrating mind. He +foresaw that this union might be made durable and sacred by the marriage +of Anne and Prince Edward; and to defeat this alliance was his first +object, partly through Clarence, partly through Margaret herself. A +gentlewoman in the Duchess of Clarence’s train had been arrested on the +point of embarking to join her mistress. Richard had already seen and +conferred with this lady, whose ambition, duplicity, and talent for +intrigue were known to him. Having secured her by promises of the most +lavish dignities and rewards, he proposed that she should be permitted +to join the duchess with secret messages to Isabel and the duke, warning +them both that Warwick and Margaret would forget their past feud in +present sympathy, and that the rebellion against King Edward, instead +of placing them on the throne, would humble them to be subordinates and +aliens to the real profiters, the Lancastrians. [Comines, 3, c. 5; Hall; +Hollinshed] He foresaw what effect these warnings would have upon the +vain duke and the ambitious Isabel, whose character was known to him +from childhood. He startled the king by insisting upon sending, at the +same time, a trusty diplomatist to Margaret of Anjou, proffering to give +the princess Elizabeth (betrothed to Lord Montagu’s son) to the young +Prince Edward. [“Original Letters from Harleian Manuscripts.” Edited by +Sir H. Ellis (second series).] Thus, if the king, who had, as yet, no +son, were to die, Margaret’s son, in right of his wife, as well as in +that of his own descent, would peaceably ascend the throne. “Need I +say that I mean not this in sad and serious earnest?” observed Richard, +interrupting the astonished king. “I mean it but to amuse the Anjouite, +and to deafen her ears to any overtures from Warwick. If she listen, +we gain time; that time will inevitably renew irreconcilable quarrel +between herself and the earl. His hot temper and desire of revenge +will not brook delay. He will land, unsupported by Margaret and +her partisans, and without any fixed principle of action which can +strengthen force by opinion.” + +“You are right, Richard,” said Edward, whose faithless cunning +comprehended the more sagacious policy it could not originate. “All be +it as you will.” + +“And in the mean while,” added Richard, “watch well, but anger not, +Montagu and the archbishop. It were dangerous to seem to distrust them +till proof be clear; it were dull to believe them true. I go at once to +fulfil my task.” + + + + +CHAPTER VII. WARWICK AND HIS FAMILY IN EXILE. + +We now summon the reader on a longer if less classic journey than from +Thebes to Athens, and waft him on a rapid wing from Shene to Amboise. We +must suppose that the two emissaries of Gloucester have already arrived +at their several destinations,--the lady has reached Isabel, the envoy +Margaret. + +In one of the apartments appropriated to the earl in the royal palace, +within the embrasure of a vast Gothic casement, sat Anne of Warwick; the +small wicket in the window was open, and gave a view of a wide and fair +garden, interspersed with thick bosquets and regular alleys, over which +the rich skies of the summer evening, a little before sunset, cast +alternate light and shadow. Towards this prospect the sweet face of the +Lady Anne was turned musingly. The riveted eye, the bended neck, the +arms reclining on the knee, the slender fingers interlaced,--gave to her +whole person the character of revery and repose. + +In the same chamber were two other ladies; the one was pacing the floor +with slow but uneven steps, with lips moving from time to time, as if in +self-commune, with the brow contracted slightly: her form and face took +also the character of revery, but not of repose. + +The third female (the gentle and lovely mother of the other two) was +seated, towards the centre of the room, before a small table, on which +rested one of those religious manuscripts, full of the moralities and +the marvels of cloister sanctity, which made so large a portion of the +literature of the monkish ages. But her eye rested not on the Gothic +letter and the rich blazon of the holy book. With all a mother’s fear +and all a mother’s fondness, it glanced from Isabel to Anne, from Anne +to Isabel, till at length in one of those soft voices, so rarely heard, +which makes even a stranger love the speaker, the fair countess said,-- + +“Come hither, my child Isabel; give me thy hand, and whisper me what +hath chafed thee.” + +“My mother,” replied the duchess, “it would become me ill to have a +secret not known to thee, and yet, methinks, it would become me less to +say aught to provoke thine anger!” + +“Anger, Isabel! Who ever knew anger for those they love?” + +“Pardon me, my sweet mother,” said Isabel, relaxing her haughty brow, +and she approached and kissed her mother’s cheek. + +The countess drew her gently to a seat by her side. + +“And now tell me all,--unless, indeed, thy Clarence hath, in some +lover’s hasty mood, vexed thy affection; for of the household secrets +even a mother should not question the true wife.” + +Isabel paused, and glanced significantly at Anne. + +“Nay, see!” said the countess, smiling, though sadly, “she, too, hath +thoughts that she will not tell to me; but they seem not such as should +alarm my fears, as thine do. For the moment ere I spoke to thee, thy +brow frowned, and her lip smiled. She hears us not,--speak on.” + +“Is it then true, my mother, that Margaret of Anjou is hastening hither? +And can it be possible that King Louis can persuade my lord and father +to meet, save in the field of battle, the arch-enemy of our House?” + +“Ask the earl thyself, Isabel; Lord Warwick hath no concealment from his +children. Whatever he doth is ever wisest, best, and knightliest,--so, +at least, may his children always deem!” + +Isabel’s colour changed and her eye flashed. But ere she could answer, +the arras was raised, and Lord Warwick entered. But no longer did the +hero’s mien and manner evince that cordial and tender cheerfulness +which, in all the storms of his changeful life, he had hitherto +displayed when coming from power and danger, from council or from camp, +to man’s earthly paradise,--a virtuous home. + +Gloomy and absorbed, his very dress--which, at that day, the +Anglo-Norman deemed it a sin against self-dignity to neglect--betraying, +by its disorder, that thorough change of the whole mind, that terrible +internal revolution, which is made but in strong natures by the tyranny +of a great care or a great passion, the earl scarcely seemed to heed his +countess, who rose hastily, but stopped in the timid fear and reverence +of love at the sight of his stern aspect; he threw himself abruptly on a +seat, passed his hand over his face, and sighed heavily. + +That sigh dispelled the fear of the wife, and made her alive only to +her privilege of the soother. She drew near, and placing herself on +the green rushes at his feet, took his hand and kissed it, but did not +speak. + +The earl’s eyes fell on the lovely face looking up to him through tears, +his brow softened, he drew his hand gently from hers, placed it on her +head, and said in a low voice,--“God and Our Lady bless thee, sweet +wife!” + +Then, looking round, he saw Isabel watching him intently; and, rising +at once, he threw his arm round her waist, pressed her to his bosom, and +said, “My daughter, for thee and thine day and night have I striven and +planned in vain. I cannot reward thy husband as I would; I cannot give +thee, as I had hoped, a throne!” + +“What title so dear to Isabel,” said the countess, “as that of Lord +Warwick’s daughter?” + +Isabel remained cold and silent, and returned not the earl’s embrace. + +Warwick was, happily, too absorbed in his own feelings to notice those +of his child. Moving away, he continued, as he paced the room (his habit +in emotion, which Isabel, who had many minute external traits in common +with her father, had unconsciously caught from him),-- + +“Till this morning I hoped still that my name and services, that +Clarence’s popular bearing and his birth of Plantagenet, would suffice +to summon the English people round our standard; that the false Edward +would be driven, on our landing, to fly the realm; and that, without +change to the dynasty of York, Clarence, as next male heir, would ascend +the throne. True, I saw all the obstacles, all the difficulties,--I was +warned of them before I left England; but still I hoped. Lord Oxford +has arrived, he has just left me. We have gone over the chart of the way +before us, weighed the worth of every name, for and against; and, alas! +I cannot but allow that all attempt to place the younger brother on +the throne of the elder would but lead to bootless slaughter and +irretrievable defeat.” + +“Wherefore think you so, my lord?” asked Isabel, in evident excitement. +“Your own retainers are sixty thousand,--an army larger than Edward, and +all his lords of yesterday, can bring into the field.” + +“My child,” answered the earl, with that profound knowledge of his +countrymen which he had rather acquired from his English heart than from +any subtlety of intellect, “armies may gain a victory, but they do not +achieve a throne,--unless, at least, they enforce a slavery; and it +is not for me and for Clarence to be the violent conquerors of our +countrymen, but the regenerators of a free realm, corrupted by a false +man’s rule.” + +“And what then,” exclaimed Isabel,--“what do you propose, my father? +Can it be possible that you can unite yourself with the abhorred +Lancastrians, with the savage Anjouite, who beheaded my grandsire, +Salisbury? Well do I remember your own words,--‘May God and Saint George +forget me, when I forget those gray and gory hairs!’” + +Here Isabel was interrupted by a faint cry from Anne, who, unobserved +by the rest, and hitherto concealed from her father’s eye by the deep +embrasure of the window, had risen some moments before, and listened, +with breathless attention, to the conversation between Warwick and the +duchess. + +“It is not true, it is not true!” exclaimed Anne, passionately. +“Margaret disowns the inhuman deed.” + +“Thou art right, Anne,” said Warwick; “though I guess not how thou didst +learn the error of a report so popularly believed that till of late I +never questioned its truth. King Louis assures me solemnly that that +foul act was done by the butcher Clifford, against Margaret’s knowledge, +and, when known, to her grief and anger.” + +“And you, who call Edward false, can believe Louis true?” + +“Cease, Isabel, cease!” said the countess. “Is it thus my child can +address my lord and husband? Forgive her, beloved Richard.” + +“Such heat in Clarence’s wife misbeseems her not,” answered Warwick. +“And I can comprehend and pardon in my haughty Isabel a resentment +which her reason must at last subdue; for think not, Isabel, that it is +without dread struggle and fierce agony that I can contemplate peace and +league with mine ancient foe; but here two duties speak to me in voices +not to be denied: my honour and my hearth, as noble and as man, demand +redress, and the weal and glory of my country demand a ruler who does +not degrade a warrior, nor assail a virgin, nor corrupt a people by lewd +pleasures, nor exhaust a land by grinding imposts; and that honour shall +be vindicated, and that country shall be righted, no matter at what +sacrifice of private grief and pride.” + +The words and the tone of the earl for a moment awed even Isabel; but +after a pause, she said suddenly, “And for this, then, Clarence hath +joined your quarrel and shared your exile?--for this,--that he may place +the eternal barrier of the Lancastrian line between himself and the +English throne?” + +“I would fain hope,” answered the earl, calmly, “that Clarence will view +our hard position more charitably than thou. If he gain not all that +I could desire, should success crown our arms, he will, at least, gain +much; for often and ever did thy husband, Isabel, urge me to stern +measures against Edward, when I soothed him and restrained. Mort Dieu! +how often did he complain of slight and insult from Elizabeth and her +minions, of open affront from Edward, of parsimony to his wants as +prince,--of a life, in short, humbled and made bitter by all the +indignity and the gall which scornful power can inflict on dependent +pride. If he gain not the throne, he will gain, at least, the succession +in thy right to the baronies of Beauchamp, the mighty duchy, and the +vast heritage of York, the vice-royalty of Ireland. Never prince of the +blood had wealth and honours equal to those that shall await thy lord. +For the rest, I drew him not into my quarrel; long before would he have +drawn me into his; nor doth it become thee, Isabel, as child and as +sister, to repent, if the husband of my daughter felt as brave men feel, +without calculation of gain and profit, the insult offered to his lady’s +House. But if here I overgauge his chivalry and love to me and mine, +or discontent his ambition and his hopes, Mort Dieu! we hold him not +a captive. Edward will hail his overtures of peace; let him make terms +with his brother, and return.” + +“I will report to him what you say, my lord,” said Isabel, with cold +brevity and, bending her haughty head in formal reverence, she advanced +to the door. Anne sprang forward and caught her hand. + +“Oh, Isabel!” she whispered, “in our father’s sad and gloomy hour can +you leave him thus?” and the sweet lady burst into tears. + +“Anne,” retorted Isabel, bitterly, “thy heart is Lancastrian; and what, +peradventure, grieves my father hath but joy for thee.” + +Anne drew back, pale and trembling, and her sister swept from the room. + +The earl, though he had not overheard the whispered sentences which +passed between his daughters, had watched them closely, and his lip +quivered with emotion as Isabel closed the door. + +“Come hither, my Anne,” he said tenderly; “thou who hast thy mother’s +face, never hast a harsh thought for thy father.” + +As Anne threw herself on Warwick’s breast, he continued, “And how camest +thou to learn that Margaret disowns a deed that, if done by her command, +would render my union with her cause a sacrilegious impiety to the +dead?” + +Anne coloured, and nestled her head still closer to her father’s bosom. +Her mother regarded her confusion and her silence with an anxious eye. + +The wing of the palace in which the earl’s apartments were situated +was appropriated to himself and household, flanked to the left by an +abutting pile containing state-chambers, never used by the austere and +thrifty Louis, save on great occasions of pomp or revel; and, as we have +before observed, looking on a garden, which was generally solitary and +deserted. From this garden, while Anne yet strove for words to answer +her father, and the countess yet watched her embarrassment, suddenly +came the soft strain of a Provencal lute; while a low voice, rich, and +modulated at once by a deep feeling and an exquisite art that would have +given effect to even simpler words, breathed-- + + THE LAY OF THE HEIR OF LANCASTER + + “His birthright but a father’s name, + A grandsire’s hero-sword, + He dwelt within the stranger’s land, + The friendless, homeless lord!” + + “Yet one dear hope, too dear to tell, + Consoled the exiled man; + The angels have their home in heaven + And gentle thoughts in Anne.” + +At that name the voice of the singer trembled, and paused a moment; +the earl, who at first had scarcely listened to what he deemed but the +ill-seasoned gallantry of one of the royal minstrels, started in proud +surprise, and Anne herself, tightening her clasp round her father’s +neck, burst into passionate sobs. The eye of the countess met that of +her lord; but she put her finger to her lips in sign to him to listen. +The song was resumed-- + + “Recall the single sunny time, + In childhood’s April weather, + When he and thou, the boy and girl, + Roved hand in band together.” + + “When round thy young companion knelt + The princes of the isle; + And priest and people prayed their God, + On England’s heir to smile.” + +The earl uttered a half-stifled exclamation, but the minstrel heard not +the interruption, and continued,-- + + “Methinks the sun hath never smiled + Upon the exiled man, + Like that bright morning when the boy + Told all his soul to Anne.” + + “No; while his birthright but a name, + A grandsire’s hero--sword, + He would not woo the lofty maid + To love the banished lord.” + + “But when, with clarion, fife, and drum, + He claims and wins his own; + When o’er the deluge drifts his ark, + To rest upon a throne.” + + “Then, wilt thou deign to hear the hope + That blessed the exiled man, + When pining for his father’s crown + To deck the brows of Anne?” + +The song ceased, and there was silence within the chamber, broken but by +Anne’s low yet passionate weeping. The earl gently strove to disengage +her arms from his neck; but she, mistaking his intention, sank on her +knees, and covering her face with her hands, exclaimed,-- + +“Pardon! pardon! pardon him, if not me!” + +“What have I to pardon? What hast thou concealed from me? Can I think +that thou hast met, in secret, one who--” + +“In secret! Never, never, Father! This is the third time only that I +have heard his voice since we have been at Amboise, save when--save +when--” + +“Go on.” + +“Save when King Louis presented him to me in the revel under the name +of the Count de F----, and he asked me if I could forgive his mother for +Lord Clifford’s crime.” + +“It is, then, as the rhyme proclaimed; and it is Edward of Lancaster who +loves and woos the daughter of Lord Warwick!” + +Something in her father’s voice made Anne remove her hands from her +face, and look up to him with a thrill of timid joy. Upon his brow, +indeed, frowned no anger, upon his lip smiled no scorn. At that moment +all his haughty grief at the curse of circumstance which drove him to +his hereditary foe had vanished. Though Montagu had obtained from +Oxford some glimpse of the desire which the more sagacious and temperate +Lancastrians already entertained for that alliance, and though Louis +had already hinted its expediency to the earl, yet, till now, Warwick +himself had naturally conceived that the prince shared the enmity of his +mother, and that such a union, however politic, was impossible; but +now indeed there burst upon him the full triumph of revenge and pride. +Edward of York dared to woo Anne to dishonour, Edward of Lancaster dared +not even woo her as his wife till his crown was won! To place upon the +throne the very daughter the ungrateful monarch had insulted; to make +her he would have humbled not only the instrument of his fall, but the +successor of his purple; to unite in one glorious strife the wrongs +of the man and the pride of the father,--these were the thoughts that +sparkled in the eye of the king-maker, and flushed with a fierce rapture +the dark cheek, already hollowed by passion and care. He raised his +daughter from the floor, and placed her in her mother’s arms, but still +spoke not. + +“This, then, was thy secret, Anne,” whispered the countess; “and I half +foreguessed it, when, last night, I knelt beside thy couch to pray, and +overheard thee murmur in thy dreams.” + +“Sweet mother, thou forgivest me; but my father--ah, he speaks not. One +word! Father, Father, not even his love could console me if I angered +thee!” + +The earl, who had remained rooted to the spot, his eyes shining +thoughtfully under his dark brows, and his hand slightly raised, as +if piercing into the future, and mapping out its airy realm, turned +quickly,-- + +“I go to the heir of Lancaster; if this boy be bold and true, worthy of +England and of thee, we will change the sad ditty of that scrannel lute +into such a storm of trumpets as beseems the triumph of a conqueror and +the marriage of a prince!” + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. HOW THE HEIR OF LANCASTER MEETS THE KING-MAKER. + +In truth, the young prince, in obedience to a secret message from the +artful Louis, had repaired to the court of Amboise under the name of the +Count de F----. The French king had long before made himself acquainted +with Prince Edward’s romantic attachment to the earl’s daughter, through +the agent employed by Edward to transmit his portrait to Anne at +Rouen; and from him, probably, came to Oxford the suggestion which that +nobleman had hazarded to Montagu; and now that it became his policy +seriously and earnestly to espouse the cause of his kinswoman Margaret, +he saw all the advantage to his cold statecraft which could be drawn +from a boyish love. Louis had a well-founded fear of the warlike spirit +and military talents of Edward IV.; and this fear had induced him +hitherto to refrain from openly espousing the cause of the Lancastrians, +though it did not prevent his abetting such seditions and intrigues as +could confine the attention of the martial Plantagenet to the perils of +his own realm. But now that the breach between Warwick and the king had +taken place; now that the earl could no longer curb the desire of +the Yorkist monarch to advance his hereditary claims to the fairest +provinces of France,--nay, peradventure, to France itself,--while the +defection of Lord Warwick gave to the Lancastrians the first fair hope +of success in urging their own pretensions to the English throne, +he bent all the powers of his intellect and his will towards the +restoration of a natural ally and the downfall of a dangerous foe. +But he knew that Margaret and her Lancastrian favourers could not +of themselves suffice to achieve a revolution,--that they could only +succeed under cover of the popularity and the power of Warwick, while +he perceived all the art it would require to make Margaret forego her +vindictive nature and long resentment, and to supple the pride of the +great earl into recognizing as a sovereign the woman who had branded him +as a traitor. + +Long before Lord Oxford’s arrival, Louis, with all that address which +belonged to him, had gradually prepared the earl to familiarize himself +to the only alternative before him, save that, indeed, of powerless +sense of wrong and obscure and lasting exile. The French king looked +with more uneasiness to the scruples of Margaret; and to remove these, +he trusted less to his own skill than to her love for her only son. + +His youth passed principally in Anjou--that court of minstrels--young +Edward’s gallant and ardent temper had become deeply imbued with the +southern poetry and romance. Perhaps the very feud between his House and +Lord Warwick’s, though both claimed their common descent from John of +Gaunt, had tended, by the contradictions in the human heart, to endear +to him the recollection of the gentle Anne. He obeyed with joy the +summons of Louis, repaired to the court, was presented to Anne as the +Count de F----, found himself recognized at the first glance (for his +portrait still lay upon her heart, as his remembrance in its core), and, +twice before the song we have recited, had ventured, agreeably to the +sweet customs of Anjou, to address the lady of his love under the shade +of the starlit summer copses. But on this last occasion, he had departed +from his former discretion; hitherto he had selected an hour of deeper +night, and ventured but beneath the lattice of the maiden’s chamber when +the rest of the palace was hushed in sleep. And the fearless declaration +of his rank and love now hazarded was prompted by one who contrived to +turn to grave uses the wildest whim of the minstrel, the most romantic +enthusiasm of youth. + +Louis had just learned from Oxford the result of his interview with +Warwick. And about the same time the French king had received a letter +from Margaret, announcing her departure from the castle of Verdun for +Tours, where she prayed him to meet her forthwith, and stating that she +had received from England tidings that might change all her schemes, and +more than ever forbid the possibility of a reconciliation with the Earl +of Warwick. + +The king perceived the necessity of calling into immediate effect the +aid on which he had relied, in the presence and passion of the young +prince. He sought him at once; he found him in a remote part of the +gardens, and overheard him breathing to himself the lay he had just +composed. + +“Pasque Dieu!” said the king, laying his hand on the young man’s +shoulder, “if thou wilt but repeat that song where and when I bid thee, +I promise that before the month ends Lord Warwick shall pledge thee his +daughter’s hand; and before the year is closed thou shalt sit beside +Lord Warwick’s daughter in the halls of Westminster.” + +And the royal troubadour took the counsel of the king. + +The song had ceased; the minstrel emerged from the bosquets, and stood +upon the sward, as, from the postern of the palace, walked with a slow +step, a form from which it became him not, as prince or as lover, in +peace or in war, to shrink. The first stars had now risen; the light, +though serene, was pale and dim. The two men--the one advancing, the +other motionless--gazed on each other in grave silence. As Count +de F----, amidst the young nobles in the king’s train, the earl had +scarcely noticed the heir of England. He viewed him now with a different +eye: in secret complacency, for, with a soldier’s weakness, the +soldier-baron valued men too much for their outward seeming, he surveyed +a figure already masculine and stalwart, though still in the graceful +symmetry of fair eighteen. + +“A youth of a goodly presence,” muttered the earl, “with the dignity +that commands in peace, and the sinews that can strive against hardship +and death in war.” + +He approached, and said calmly: “Sir minstrel, he who woos either fame +or beauty may love the lute, but should wield the sword. At least, so +methinks had the Fifth Henry said to him who boasts for his heritage the +sword of Agincourt.” + +“O noble earl!” exclaimed the prince, touched by words far gentler than +he had dared to hope, despite his bold and steadfast mien, and giving +way to frank and graceful emotion, “O noble earl! since thou knowest me; +since my secret is told; since, in that secret, I have proclaimed a hope +as dear to me as a crown and dearer far than life, can I hope that thy +rebuke but veils thy favour, and that, under Lord Warwick’s eye, the +grandson of Henry V. shall approve himself worthy of the blood that +kindles in his veins?” + +“Fair sir and prince,” returned the earl, whose hardy and generous +nature the emotion and fire of Edward warmed and charmed, “there are, +alas! deep memories of blood and wrong--the sad deeds and wrathful words +of party feud and civil war--between thy royal mother and myself; and +though we may unite now against a common foe, much I fear that the Lady +Margaret would brook ill a closer friendship, a nearer tie, than the +exigency of the hour between Richard Nevile and her son.” + +“No, Sir Earl, let me hope you misthink her. Hot and impetuous, but not +mean and treacherous, the moment that she accepts the service of +thine arm she must forget that thou hast been her foe; and if I, as my +father’s heir, return to England, it is in the trust that a new era will +commence. Free from the passionate enmities of either faction, Yorkist +and Lancastrian are but Englishmen to me. Justice to all who serve us, +pardon for all who have opposed.” + +The prince paused, and, even in the dim light, his kingly aspect gave +effect to his kingly words. “And if this resolve be such as you approve; +if you, great earl, be that which even your foes proclaim, a man whose +power depends less on lands and vassals--broad though the one, and +numerous though the other--than on well-known love for England, her +glory and her peace, it rests with you to bury forever in one grave the +feuds of Lancaster and York! What Yorkist who hath fought at Towton or +St. Albans under Lord Warwick’s standard, will lift sword against the +husband of Lord Warwick’s daughter? What Lancastrian will not forgive a +Yorkist, when Lord Warwick, the kinsman of Duke Richard, becomes father +to the Lancastrian heir, and bulwark to the Lancastrian throne? O +Warwick, if not for my sake, nor for the sake of full redress against +the ingrate whom thou repentest to have placed on my father’s throne, at +least for the sake of England, for the healing of her bleeding wounds, +for the union of her divided people, hear the grandson of Henry V., who +sues to thee for thy daughter’s hand!” + +The royal wooer bent his knee as he spoke. The mighty subject saw and +prevented the impulse of the prince who had forgotten himself in the +lover; the hand which he caught he lifted to his lips, and the next +moment, in manly and soldierlike embrace, the prince’s young arm was +thrown over the broad shoulder of the king-maker. + + + + +CHAPTER IX. THE INTERVIEW OF EARL WARWICK AND QUEEN MARGARET. + +Louis hastened to meet Margaret at Tours; thither came also her father +Rene, her brother John of Calabria, Yolante her sister, and the Count of +Vaudemonte. The meeting between the queen and Rene was so touching as to +have drawn tears to the hard eyes of Louis XI.; but, that emotion over, +Margaret evinced how little affliction had humbled her high spirit, or +softened her angry passions: she interrupted Louis in every argument for +reconciliation with Warwick. “Not with honour to myself and to my son,” + she exclaimed, “can I pardon that cruel earl, the main cause of King +Henry’s downfall! in vain patch up a hollow peace between us,--a peace +of form and parchment! My spirit never can be contented with him, ne +pardon!” + +For several days she maintained a language which betrayed the chief +cause of her own impolitic passions, that had lost her crown. Showing +to Louis the letter despatched to her, proffering the hand of the Lady +Elizabeth to her son, she asked if that were not a more profitable +party [See, for this curious passage of secret history, Sir H. Ellis’s +“Original Letters from the Harleian Manuscripts,” second series, +vol. i., letter 42.], and if it were necessary that she should +forgive,--whether it were not more queenly to treat with Edward than +with a twofold rebel? + +In fact, the queen would perhaps have fallen into Gloucester’s artful +snare, despite all the arguments and even the half-menaces [Louis +would have thrown over Margaret’s cause if Warwick had demanded it; he +instructed MM. de Concressault and du Plessis to assure the earl that +he would aid him to the utmost to reconquer England either for the Queen +Margaret or for any one else he chose (on pour qui il voudra): for that +he loved the earl better than Margaret or her son.--BRANTE, t. ix. 276.] +of the more penetrating Louis, but for a counteracting influence which +Richard had not reckoned upon. Prince Edward, who had lingered behind +Louis, arrived from Amboise, and his persuasions did more than all the +representations of the crafty king. The queen loved her son with that +intenseness which characterizes the one soft affection of violent +natures. Never had she yet opposed his most childish whim, and now he +spoke with the eloquence of one who put his heart and his life’s life +into his words. At last, reluctantly, she consented to an interview with +Warwick. The earl, accompanied by Oxford, arrived at Tours, and the two +nobles were led into the presence of Margaret by King Louis. + +The reader will picture to himself a room darkened by thick curtains +drawn across the casement, for the proud woman wished not the earl +to detect on her face either the ravages of years or the emotions +of offended pride. In a throne chair, placed on the dais, sat the +motionless queen, her hands clasping, convulsively, the arms of the +fauteuil, her features pale and rigid; and behind the chair leaned the +graceful figure of her son. The person of the Lancastrian prince was +little less remarkable than that of his hostile namesake, but its +character was distinctly different. [“According to some of the French +chroniclers, the Prince of Wales, who was one of the handsomest and +most accomplished princes in Europe, was very desirous of becoming the +husband of Anne Nevile,” etc.--Miss STRICKLAND: Life of Margaret of +Anjou.] Spare, like Henry V., almost to the manly defect of leanness, +his proportions were slight to those which gave such portly majesty to +the vast-chested Edward, but they evinced the promise of almost equal +strength,--the muscles hardened to iron by early exercise in arms, +the sap of youth never wasted by riot and debauch. His short purple +manteline, trimmed with ermine, was embroidered with his grandfather’s +favourite device, “the silver swan;” he wore on his breast the badge of +St. George; and the single ostrich plume, which made his cognizance as +Prince of Wales, waved over a fair and ample forehead, on which were +even then traced the lines of musing thought and high design; his +chestnut hair curled close to his noble head; his eye shone dark +and brilliant beneath the deep-set brow, which gives to the human +countenance such expression of energy and intellect,--all about him, +in aspect and mien, seemed to betoken a mind riper than his years, +a masculine simplicity of taste and bearing, the earnest and grave +temperament mostly allied in youth to pure and elevated desires, to an +honourable and chivalric soul. + +Below the dais stood some of the tried and gallant gentlemen who had +braved exile, and tasted penury in their devotion to the House of +Lancaster, and who had now flocked once more round their queen, in the +hope of better days. There were the Dukes of Exeter and Somerset, their +very garments soiled and threadbare,--many a day had those great lords +hungered for the beggar’s crust! [Philip de Comines says he himself +had seen the Dukes of Exeter and Somerset in the Low Countries in as +wretched a plight as common beggars.] There stood Sir John Fortescue, +the patriarch authority of our laws, who had composed his famous +treatise for the benefit of the young prince, overfond of exercise with +lance and brand, and the recreation of knightly song. There were Jasper +of Pembroke, and Sir Henry Rous, and the Earl of Devon, and the Knight +of Lytton, whose House had followed, from sire to son, the fortunes of +the Lancastrian Rose; [Sir Robert de Lytton (whose grandfather had been +Comptroller to the Household of Henry IV., and Agister of the Forests +allotted to Queen Joan), was one of the most powerful knights of the +time; and afterwards, according to Perkin Warbeck, one of the ministers +most trusted by Henry VII. He was lord of Lytton, in Derbyshire (where +his ancestors had been settled since the Conquest), of Knebworth in +Herts (the ancient seat and manor of Plantagenet de Brotherton, Earl +of Norfolk and Earl Marshal), of Myndelesden and Langley, of Standyarn, +Dene, and Brekesborne, in Northamptonshire, and became in the reign of +Henry VII. Privy Councillor, Uuder-Treasurer, and Keeper of the great +Wardrobe.] and, contrasting the sober garments of the exiles, shone the +jewels and cloth-of-gold that decked the persons of the more prosperous +foreigners, Ferri, Count of Vaudemonte, Margaret’s brother, the Duke +of Calabria, and the powerful form of Sir Pierre de Breze, who had +accompanied Margaret in her last disastrous campaigns, with all the +devotion of a chevalier for the lofty lady adored in secret. [See, +for the chivalrous devotion of this knight (Seneschal of Normandy) to +Margaret, Miss Strickland’s Life of that queen.] + +When the door opened, and gave to the eyes of those proud exiles the +form of their puissant enemy, they with difficulty suppressed the murmur +of their resentment, and their looks turned with sympathy and grief to +the hueless face of their queen. + +The earl himself was troubled; his step was less firm, his crest less +haughty, his eye less serenely steadfast. + +But beside him, in a dress more homely than that of the poorest exile +there, and in garb and in aspect, as he lives forever in the portraiture +of Victor Hugo and our own yet greater Scott, moved Louis, popularly +called “The Fell.” + +“Madame and cousin,” said the king, “we present to you the man for whose +haute courage and dread fame we have such love and respect, that we +value him as much as any king, and would do as much for him as for man +living [Ellis: Original Letters, vol. i., letter 42, second series]; and +with my lord of Warwick, see also this noble earl of Oxford, who, though +he may have sided awhile with the enemies of your Highness, comes now to +pray your pardon, and to lay at your feet his sword.” + +Lord Oxford (who had ever unwillingly acquiesced in the Yorkist +dynasty), more prompt than Warwick, here threw himself on his knees +before Margaret, and his tears fell on her hand, as he murmured +“Pardon.” + +“Rise, Sir John de Vere,” said the queen, glancing with a flashing eye +from Oxford to Lord Warwick. “Your pardon is right easy to purchase, for +well I know that you yielded but to the time,--you did not turn the time +against us; you and yours have suffered much for King Henry’s cause. +Rise, Sir Earl.” + +“And,” said a voice, so deep and so solemn, that it hushed the very +breath of those who heard it,--“and has Margaret a pardon also for the +man who did more than all others to dethrone King Henry, and can do more +than all to restore his crown?” + +“Ha!” cried’ Margaret, rising in her passion, and casting from her the +hand her son had placed upon her shoulder, “ha! Ownest thou thy wrongs, +proud lord? Comest thou at last to kneel at Queen Margaret’s feet? +Look round and behold her court,--some half-score brave and unhappy +gentlemen, driven from their hearths and homes, their heritage the prey +of knaves and varlets, their sovereign in a prison, their sovereign’s +wife, their sovereign’s son, persecuted and hunted from the soil! And +comest thou now to the forlorn majesty of sorrow to boast, ‘Such deeds +were mine?’” + +“Mother and lady,” began the prince + +“Madden me not, my son. Forgiveness is for the prosperous, not for +adversity and woe.” + +“Hear me,” said the earl,--who, having once bowed his pride to the +interview, had steeled himself against the passion which, in his +heart, he somewhat despised as a mere woman’s burst of inconsiderate +fury,--“for I have this right to be heard,--that not one of these +knights, your lealest and noblest friends, can say of me that I ever +stooped to gloss mine acts, or palliate bold deeds with wily words. Dear +to me as comrade in arms, sacred to me as a father’s head, was Richard +of York, mine uncle by marriage with Lord Salisbury’s sister. I speak +not now of his claims by descent (for those even King Henry could not +deny), but I maintain them, even in your Grace’s presence, to be such as +vindicate, from disloyalty and treason, me and the many true and gallant +men who upheld them through danger, by field and scaffold. Error, it +might be,--but the error of men who believed themselves the defenders +of a just cause. Nor did I, Queen Margaret, lend myself wholly to my +kinsman’s quarrel, nor share one scheme that went to the dethronement of +King Henry, until--pardon, if I speak bluntly; it is my wont, and would +be more so now, but for thy fair face and woman’s form, which awe me +more than if confronting the frown of Coeur de Lion, or the First Great +Edward--pardon me, I say, if I speak bluntly, and aver that I was not +King Henry’s foe until false counsellors had planned my destruction, in +body and goods, land and life. In the midst of peace, at Coventry, my +father and myself scarcely escaped the knife of the murderer. [See Hall +(236), who says that Margaret had laid a snare for Salisbury and Warwick +at Warwick, and “if they had not suddenly departed, their life’s thread +had been broken.”] In the streets of London the very menials and +hangmen employed in the service of your Highness beset me unarmed [Hall, +Fabyan]; a little time after and my name was attainted by an illegal +Parliament. [Parl. Rolls, 370; W. Wyr. 478.] And not till after these +things did Richard Duke of York ride to the hall of Westminster, and +lay his hand upon the throne; nor till after these things did I and +my father Salisbury say to each other, ‘The time has come when neither +peace nor honour can be found for us under King Henry’s reign.’ Blame +me if you will, Queen Margaret; reject me if you need not my sword; but +that which I did in the gone days was such as no nobleman so outraged +and despaired [Warwick’s phrase. See Sir H. Ellis’s “Original Letters,” + vol. i., second series.] would have forborne to do,--remembering that +England is not the heritage of the king alone, but that safety and +honour, and freedom and justice, are the rights of his Norman gentlemen +and his Saxon people. And rights are a mockery and a laughter if they do +not justify resistance, whensoever, and by whomsoever, they are invaded +and assailed.” + +It had been with a violent effort that Margaret had refrained +from interrupting this address, which had, however, produced no +inconsiderable effect upon the knightly listeners around the dais. +And now, as the earl ceased, her indignation was arrested by dismay on +seeing the young prince suddenly leave his post and advance to the side +of Warwick. + +“Right well hast thou spoken, noble earl and cousin,--right well, though +right plainly. And I,” added the prince, “saving the presence of my +queen and mother,--I, the representative of my sovereign father, in his +name will pledge thee a king’s oblivion and pardon for the past, if +thou on thy side acquit my princely mother of all privity to the snares +against thy life and honour of which thou hast spoken, and give thy +knightly word to be henceforth leal to Lancaster. Perish all memories of +the past that can make walls between the souls of brave men.” + +Till this moment, his arms folded in his gown, his thin, fox-like face +bent to the ground, Louis had listened, silent and undisturbed. He now +deemed it the moment to second the appeal of the prince. Passing his +hand hypocritically over his tearless eyes, the king turned to Margaret +and said,-- + +“Joyful hour! happy union! May Madame La Vierge and Monseigneur Saint +Martin sanctify and hallow the bond by which alone my beloved kinswoman +can regain her rights and roiaulme. Amen.” + +Unheeding this pious ejaculation, her bosom heaving, her eyes wandering +from the earl to Edward, Margaret at last gave vent to her passion. + +“And is it come to this, Prince Edward of Wales, that thy mother’s +wrongs are not thine? Standest thou side by side with my mortal foe, +who, instead of repenting treason, dares but to complain of injury? Am +I fallen so low that my voice to pardon or disdain is counted but as a +sough of idle air! God of my fathers, hear me! Willingly from my heart +I tear the last thought and care for the pomps of earth. Hateful to me +a crown for which the wearer must cringe to enemy and rebel! Away, Earl +Warwick! Monstrous and unnatural seems it to the wife of captive Henry +to see thee by the side of Henry’s son!” + +Every eye turned in fear to the aspect of the earl, every ear listened +for the answer which might be expected from his well-known heat and +pride,--an answer to destroy forever the last hope of the Lancastrian +line. But whether it was the very consciousness of his power to raise +or to crush that fiery speaker, or those feelings natural to brave men, +half of chivalry, half contempt, which kept down the natural anger by +thoughts of the sex and sorrows of the Anjouite, or that the wonted +irascibility of his temper had melted into one steady and profound +passion of revenge against Edward of York, which absorbed all lesser and +more trivial causes of resentment,--the earl’s face, though pale as the +dead, was unmoved and calm, and, with a grave and melancholy smile, he +answered,-- + +“More do I respect thee, O queen, for the hot words which show a truth +rarely heard from royal lips than hadst thou deigned to dissimulate the +forgiveness and kindly charity which sharp remembrance permits thee not +to feel! No, princely Margaret, not yet can there be frank amity between +thee and me! Nor do I boast the affection yon gallant gentlemen have +displayed. Frankly, as thou hast spoken, do I say, that the wrongs I +have suffered from another alone move me to allegiance to thyself! Let +others serve thee for love of Henry; reject not my service, given but +for revenge on Edward,--as much, henceforth, am I his foe as formerly +his friend and maker! [Sir H. Ellis: Original Letters, vol. i., second +series.] And if, hereafter, on the throne, thou shouldst remember and +resent the former wars, at least thou hast owed me no gratitude, and +thou canst not grieve my heart and seethe my brain, as the man whom I +once loved better than a son! Thus, from thy presence I depart, chafing +not at thy scornful wrath; mindful, young prince, but of thy just and +gentle heart, and sure, in the calm of my own soul (on which this much, +at least, of our destiny is reflected as on a glass), that when, high +lady, thy colder sense returns to thee, thou wilt see that the league +between us must be made!--that thine ire as woman must fade before thy +duties as a another, thy affection as a wife, and thy paramount and +solemn obligations to the people thou hast ruled as queen! In the +dead of night thou shalt hear the voice of Henry in his prison asking +Margaret to set him free; the vision of thy son shall rise before thee +in his bloom and promise, to demand why his mother deprives him of a +crown; and crowds of pale peasants, grinded beneath tyrannous exaction, +and despairing fathers mourning for dishonoured children, shall ask the +Christian queen if God will sanction the unreasoning wrath which rejects +the only instrument that can redress her people.” + +This said, the earl bowed his head and turned; but, at the first sign of +his departure, there was a general movement among the noble bystanders. +Impressed by the dignity of his bearing, by the greatness of his power, +and by the unquestionable truth that in rejecting him Margaret cast +away the heritage of her son, the exiles, with a common impulse, threw +themselves at the queen’s feet, and exclaimed, almost in the same +words,-- + +“Grace! noble queen!--Grace for the great Lord Warwick!” + +“My sister,” whispered John of Calabria, “thou art thy son’s ruin if the +earl depart!” + +“Pasque Dieu! Vex not my kinswoman,--if she prefer a convent to a +throne, cross not the holy choice!” said the wily Louis, with a mocking +irony on his pinched lips. + +The prince alone spoke not, but stood proudly on the same spot, gazing +on the earl, as he slowly moved to the door. + +“Oh, Edward! Edward, my son!” exclaimed the unhappy Margaret, “if for +thy sake--for thine--I must make the past a blank, speak thou for me!” + +“I have spoken,” said the prince, gently, “and thou didst chide me, +noble mother; yet I spoke, methinks, as Henry V. had done, if of a +mighty enemy he had had the power to make a noble friend.” + +A short, convulsive sob was heard from the throne chair; and as suddenly +as it burst, it ceased. Queen Margaret rose, not a trace of that +stormy emotion upon the grand and marble beauty of her face. Her voice, +unnaturally calm, arrested the steps of the departing earl. + +“Lord Warwick, defend this boy, restore his rights, release his sainted +father, and for years of anguish and of exile, Margaret of Anjou +forgives the champion of her son!” + +In an instant Prince Edward was again by the earl’s side; a moment more, +and the earl’s proud knee bent in homage to the queen, joyful tears were +in the eyes of her friends and kindred, a triumphant smile on the lips +of Louis, and Margaret’s face, terrible in its stony and locked repose, +was raised above, as if asking the All-Merciful pardon--for the pardon +which the human sinner had bestowed! [Ellis: Original Letters from the +Harleian Manuscripts, letter 42.] + + + + +CHAPTER X. LOVE AND MARRIAGE--DOUBTS OF CONSCIENCE--DOMESTIC +JEALOUSY--AND HOUSEHOLD TREASON. + +The events that followed this tempestuous interview were such as the +position of the parties necessarily compelled. The craft of Louis, the +energy and love of Prince Edward, the representations of all her +kindred and friends, conquered, though not without repeated struggles, +Margaret’s repugnance to a nearer union between Warwick and her son. The +earl did not deign to appear personally in this matter. He left it, as +became him, to Louis and the prince, and finally received from them the +proposals, which ratified the league, and consummated the schemes of his +revenge. + +Upon the Very Cross [Miss Strickland observes upon this interview: “It +does not appear that Warwick mentioned the execution of his father, the +Earl of Salisbury, which is almost a confirmation of the statements of +those historians who deny that he was beheaded by Margaret.”] in St. +Mary’s Church of Angers, Lord Warwick swore without change to hold the +party of King Henry. Before the same sacred symbol, King Louis and his +brother, Duke of Guienne, robed in canvas, swore to sustain to their +utmost the Earl of Warwick in behalf of King Henry; and Margaret +recorded her oath “to treat the earl as true and faithful, and never for +deeds past to make him any reproach.” + +Then were signed the articles of marriage between Prince Edward and the +Lady Anne,--the latter to remain with Margaret, but the marriage not to +be consummated “till Lord Warwick had entered England and regained the +realm, or most part, for King Henry,”--a condition which pleased the +earl, who desired to award his beloved daughter no less a dowry than a +crown. + +An article far more important than all to the safety of the earl and +to the permanent success of the enterprise, was one that virtually +took from the fierce and unpopular Margaret the reins of government, by +constituting Prince Edward (whose qualities endeared him more and more +to Warwick, and were such as promised to command the respect and love of +the people) sole regent of all the realm, upon attaining his majority. +For the Duke of Clarence were reserved all the lands and dignities of +the duchy of York, the right to the succession of the throne to him +and his posterity,--failing male heirs to the Prince of Wales,--with a +private pledge of the viceroyalty of Ireland. + +Margaret had attached to her consent one condition highly obnoxious +to her high-spirited son, and to which he was only reconciled by the +arguments of Warwick: she stipulated that he should not accompany the +earl to England, nor appear there till his father was proclaimed +king. In this, no doubt, she was guided by maternal fears, and by some +undeclared suspicion, either of the good faith of Warwick, or of his +means to raise a sufficient army to fulfil his promise. The brave prince +wished to be himself foremost in the battles fought in his right and for +his cause. But the earl contended, to the surprise and joy of Margaret, +that it best behooved the prince’s interests to enter England without +one enemy in the field, leaving others to clear his path, free himself +from all the personal hate of hostile factions, and without a drop of +blood upon the sword of one heralded and announced as the peace-maker +and impartial reconciles of all feuds. So then (these high conditions +settled), in the presence of the Kings Rene and Louis, of the Earl +and Countess of Warwick, and in solemn state, at Amboise, Edward of +Lancaster plighted his marriage-troth to his beloved and loving Anne. + +It was deep night, and high revel in the Palace of Amboise crowned the +ceremonies of that memorable day. The Earl of Warwick stood alone in the +same chamber in which he had first discovered the secret of the young +Lancastrian. From the brilliant company, assembled in the halls of +state, he had stolen unperceived away, for his great heart was full to +overflowing. The part he had played for many days was over, and with +it the excitement and the fever. His schemes were crowned,--the +Lancastrians were won to his revenge; the king’s heir was the betrothed +of his favourite child; and the hour was visible in the distance, when, +by the retribution most to be desired, the father’s hand should lead +that child to the throne of him who would have degraded her to the dust. +If victory awaited his sanguine hopes, as father to his future queen, +the dignity and power of the earl became greater in the court of +Lancaster than, even in his palmiest day, amidst the minions of +ungrateful York; the sire of two lines,--if Anne’s posterity should +fail, the crown would pass to the sons of Isabel,--in either case +from him (if successful in his invasion) would descend the royalty +of England. Ambition, pride, revenge, might well exult in viewing the +future, as mortal wisdom could discern it. The House of Nevile never +seemed brightened by a more glorious star: and yet the earl was heavy +and sad at heart. However he had concealed it from the eyes of others, +the haughty ire of Margaret must have galled him in his deepest soul. +And even as he had that day contemplated the holy happiness in the +face of Anne, a sharp pang had shot through his breast. Were those the +witnesses of fair-omened spousailles? How different from the hearty +greeting of his warrior-friends was the measured courtesy of foes who +had felt and fled before his sword! If aught chanced to him in the +hazard of the field, what thought for his child ever could speak in pity +from the hard and scornful eyes of the imperious Anjouite? + +The mist which till then had clouded his mind, or left visible to his +gaze but one stern idea of retribution, melted into air. He beheld +the fearful crisis to which his life had passed,--he had reached the +eminence to mourn the happy gardens left behind. Gone, forever gone, +the old endearing friendships, the sweet and manly remembrances of brave +companionship and early love! Who among those who had confronted war by +his side for the House of York would hasten to clasp his hand and hail +his coming as the captain of hated Lancaster? True, could he bow his +honour to proclaim the true cause of his desertion, the heart of every +father would beat in sympathy with his; but less than ever could the +tale that vindicated his name be told. How stoop to invoke malignant +pity to the insult offered to a future queen? Dark in his grave +must rest the secret no words could syllable, save by such vague and +mysterious hint and comment as pass from baseless gossip into dubious +history. [Hall well explains the mystery which wrapped the king’s +insult to a female of the House of Warwick by the simple sentence, “The +certainty was not, for both their honours, openly known!”] True, that in +his change of party he was not, like Julian of Spain, an apostate to his +native land. He did not meditate the subversion of his country by the +foreign foe; it was but the substitution of one English monarch for +another,--a virtuous prince for a false and a sanguinary king. True, +that the change from rose to rose had been so common amongst the +greatest and the bravest, that even the most rigid could scarcely +censure what the age itself had sanctioned. But what other man of his +stormy day had been so conspicuous in the downfall of those he was now +as conspicuously to raise? What other man had Richard of York taken +so dearly to his heart, to what other man had the august father said, +“Protect my sons”? Before him seemed literally to rise the phantom of +that honoured prince, and with clay-cold lips to ask, “Art thou, of all +the world, the doomsman of my first-born?” A groan escaped the breast of +the self-tormentor; he fell on his knees and prayed: “Oh, pardon, thou +All-seeing!--plead for me, Divine Mother! if in this I have darkly +erred, taking my heart for my conscience, and mindful only of a selfish +wrong! Oh, surely, no! Had Richard of York himself lived to know what +I have suffered from his unworthy son,--causeless insult, broken faith, +public and unabashed dishonour; yea, pardoning, serving, loving on +through all, till, at the last, nothing less than the foulest taint that +can light upon ‘scutcheon and name was the cold, premeditated reward for +untired devotion,--surely, surely, Richard himself had said, ‘Thy honour +at last forbids all pardon!’” + +Then, in that rapidity with which the human heart, once seizing upon +self-excuse, reviews, one after one, the fair apologies, the earl +passed from the injury to himself to the mal-government of his land, and +muttered over the thousand instances of cruelty and misrule which +rose to his remembrance,--forgetting, alas, or steeling himself to the +memory, that till Edward’s vices had assailed his own hearth and honour, +he had been contented with lamenting them, he had not ventured +to chastise. At length, calm and self-acquitted, he rose from his +self-confession, and leaning by the open casement, drank in the reviving +and gentle balm of the summer air. The state apartments he had left, +formed as we have before observed, an angle to the wing in which +the chamber he had now retired to was placed. They were brilliantly +illumined, their windows opened to admit the fresh, soft breeze of +night; and he saw, as if by daylight, distinct and gorgeous, in their +gay dresses, the many revellers within. But one group caught and riveted +his eye. Close by the centre window he recognized his gentle Anne, +with downcast looks; he almost fancied he saw her blush, as her young +bridegroom, young and beautiful as herself, whispered love’s flatteries +in her ear. He saw farther on, but yet near, his own sweet countess, and +muttered, “After twenty years of marriage, may Anne be as dear to him as +thou art now to me!” And still he saw, or deemed he saw, his lady’s eye, +after resting with tender happiness on the young pair, rove wistfully +around, as if missing and searching for her partner in her mother’s joy. +But what form sweeps by with so haughty a majesty, then pauses by the +betrothed, addresses them not, but seems to regard them with so fixed a +watch? He knew by her ducal diadem, by the baudekin colours of her +robe, by her unmistakable air of pride, his daughter Isabel. He did not +distinguish the expression of her countenance, but an ominous thrill +passed through his heart; for the attitude itself had an expression, and +not that of a sister’s sympathy and love. He turned away his face +with an unquiet recollection of the altered mood of his discontented +daughter. He looked again: the duchess had passed on, lost amidst the +confused splendour of the revel. And high and rich swelled the merry +music that invited to the stately pavon. He gazed still; his lady had +left her place, the lovers too had vanished, and where they stood, stood +now in close conference his ancient enemies, Exeter and Somerset. The +sudden change from objects of love to those associated with hate had +something which touched one of those superstitions to which, in all +ages, the heart, when deeply stirred, is weakly sensitive. And again, +forgetful of the revel, the earl turned to the serener landscape of the +grove and the moonlit green sward, and mused and mused, till a soft arm +thrown round him woke his revery. For this had his lady left the revel. +Divining, by the instinct born of love, the gloom of her husband, she +had stolen from pomp and pleasure to his side. + +“Ah, wherefore wouldst thou rob me,” said the countess, “of one hour +of thy presence, since so few hours remain; since, when the sun that +succeeds the morrow’s shines upon these walls, the night of thine +absence will have closed upon me?” + +“And if that thought of parting, sad to me as thee, suffice not, belle +amie, to dim the revel,” answered the earl, “weetest thou not how ill +the grave and solemn thoughts of one who sees before him the emprise +that would change the dynasty of a realm can suit with the careless +dance and the wanton music? But not at that moment did I think of those +mightier cares; my thoughts were nearer home. Hast thou noted, sweet +wife, the silent gloom, the clouded brow of Isabel, since she learned +that Anne was to be the bride of the heir of Lancaster?” + +The mother suppressed a sigh. “We must pardon, or glance lightly over, +the mood of one who loves her lord, and mourns for his baffled hopes! +Well-a-day! I grieve that she admits not even me to her confidence. Ever +with the favourite lady who lately joined her train,--methinks that new +friend gives less holy counsel than a mother!” + +“Ha! and yet what counsels can Isabel listen to from a comparative +stranger? Even if Edward, or rather his cunning Elizabeth, had suborned +this waiting-woman, our daughter never could hearken, even in an hour of +anger, to the message from our dishonourer and our foe.” + +“Nay, but a flatterer often fosters by praising the erring thought. +Isabel hath something, dear lord, of thy high heart and courage; and +ever from childhood, her vaulting spirit, her very character of stately +beauty, hath given her a conviction of destiny and power loftier +than those reserved for our gentle Anne. Let us trust to time and +forbearance, and hope that the affection of the generous sister will +subdue the jealousy of the disappointed princess.” + +“Pray Heaven, indeed, that it so prove! Isabel’s ascendancy over +Clarence is great, and might be dangerous. Would that she consented to +remain in France with thee and Anne! Her lord, at least, it seems I have +convinced and satisfied. Pleased at the vast fortunes before him, the +toys of viceregal power, his lighter nature reconciles itself to the +loss of a crown, which, I fear, it could never have upheld. For the more +I have read his qualities in our household intimacy, the more it seems +that I could scarcely have justified the imposing on England a king +not worthy of so great a people. He is young yet, but how different the +youth of Lancastrian Edward! In him what earnest and manly spirit! What +heaven-born views of the duties of a king! Oh, if there be a sin in the +passion that hath urged me on, let me, and me alone, atone! and may I be +at least the instrument to give to England a prince whose virtues shall +compensate for all!” + +While yet the last word trembled upon the earl’s lips, a light flashed +along the floors, hitherto illumined but by the stars and the full moon. +And presently Isabel, in conference with the lady whom her mother had +referred to, passed into the room, on her way to her private chamber. +The countenance of this female diplomatist, whose talent for intrigue +Philip de Comines [Comines, iii. 5; Hall, Lingard, Hume, etc.] has +commemorated, but whose name, happily for her memory, history has +concealed, was soft and winning in its expression to the ordinary +glance, though the sharpness of the features, the thin compression of +the lips, and the harsh dry redness of the hair corresponded with the +attributes which modern physiognomical science truly or erringly assigns +to a wily and treacherous character. She bore a light in her hand, and +its rays shone full on the disturbed and agitated face of the duchess. +Isabel perceived at once the forms of her parents, and stopped short in +some whispered conversation, and uttered a cry almost of dismay. + +“Thou leavest the revel betimes, fair daughter,” said the earl, +examining her countenance with an eye somewhat stern. + +“My lady,” said the confidant, with a lowly reverence, “was anxious for +her babe.” + +“Thy lady, good waiting-wench,” said Warwick, “needs not thy tongue to +address her father. Pass on.” + +The gentlewoman bit her lips, but obeyed, and quitted the room. The earl +approached, and took Isabel’s hand,--it was cold as stone. + +“My child,” said he, tenderly, “thou dost well to retire to rest; of +late thy cheek hath lost its bloom. But just now, for many causes, I +was wishing thee not to brave our perilous return to England; and now, +I know not whether it would make me the more uneasy, to fear for thy +health if absent or thy safety if with me!” + +“My lord,” replied Isabel, coldly, “my duty calls me to my husband’s +side, and the more, since now it seems he dares the battle but reaps not +its rewards! Let Edward and Anne rest in safety, Clarence and Isabel go +to achieve the diadem and orb for others!” + +“Be not bitter with thy father, girl; be not envious of thy sister!” + said the earl, in grave rebuke; then, softening his tone, he added, +“The women of a noble House should have no ambition of their own,--their +glory and their honour they should leave, unmurmuring, in the hands of +men! Mourn not if thy sister mounts the throne of him who would have +branded the very name to which thou and she were born!” + +“I have made no reproach, my lord. Forgive me, I pray you, if I now +retire; I am so weary, and would fain have strength and health not to be +a burden to you when you depart.” + +The duchess bowed with proud submission, and moved on. “Beware!” said +the earl, in a low voice. + +“Beware!--and of what?” said Isabel, startled. + +“Of thine own heart, Isabel. Ay, go to thine infant’s couch ere thou +seek thine own, and, before the sleep of innocence, calm thyself back to +womanhood.” + +The duchess raised her head quickly, but habitual awe of her father +checked the angry answer; and kissing, with formal reverence, the hand +the countess extended to her, she left the room. She gained the chamber +in which was the cradle of her son, gorgeously canopied with silks, +inwrought with the blazoned arms of royal Clarence;--and beside the +cradle sat the confidant. + +The duchess drew aside the drapery, and contemplated the rosy face of +the infant slumberer. + +Then, turning to her confidant, she said,-- + +“Three months since, and I hoped my first-born would be a king! Away +with those vain mockeries of royal birth! How suit they the destined +vassal of the abhorred Lancastrian?” + +“Sweet lady,” said the confidant, “did I not warn thee from the first +that this alliance, to the injury of my lord duke and this dear boy, +was already imminent? I had hoped thou mightst have prevailed with the +earl!” + +“He heeds me not, he cares not for me!” exclaimed Isabel; “his whole +love is for Anne,--Anne, who, without energy and pride, I scarcely have +looked on as my equal! And now to my younger sister I must bow my knee, +pleased if she deign to bid me hold the skirt of her queenly robe! +Never,--no, never!” + +“Calm thyself; the courier must part this night. My Lord of Clarence is +already in his chamber; he waits but thine assent to write to Edward, +that he rejects not his loving messages.” + +The duchess walked to and fro, in great disorder. “But to be thus secret +and false to my father?” + +“Doth be merit that thou shouldst sacrifice thy child to him? Reflect! +the king has no son! The English barons acknowledge not in girls a +sovereign; [Miss Strickland (“Life of Elizabeth of York”) remarks, “How +much Norman prejudice in favour of Salic law had corrupted the common +or constitutional law of England regarding the succession!” The remark +involves a controversy.] and, with Edward on the throne, thy son is +heir-presumptive. Little chance that a male heir shall now be born to +Queen Elizabeth, while from Anne and her bridegroom a long line may +spring. Besides, no matter what parchment treaties may ordain, how can +Clarence and his offspring ever be regarded by a Lancastrian king but as +enemies to feed the prison or the block, when some false invention gives +the seemly pretext for extirpating the lawful race?” + +“Cease, cease, cease!” cried Isabel, in terrible struggles with herself. + +“Lady, the hour presses! And, reflect, a few lines are but words, to be +confirmed or retracted as occasion suits! If Lord Warwick succeed, and +King Edward lose his crown, ye can shape as ye best may your conduct +to the time. But if the earl lose the day, if again he be driven +into exile, a few words now release you and yours from everlasting +banishment; restore your boy to his natural heritage; deliver you from +the insolence of the Anjouite, who, methinks, even dared this very day +to taunt your highness--” + +“She did--she did! Oh that my father had been by to hear! She bade me +stand aside that Anne might pass,--‘not for the younger daughter of +Lord Warwick, but for the lady admitted into the royalty of Lancaster!’ +Elizabeth Woodville, at least, never dared this insolence!” + +“And this Margaret the Duke of Clarence is to place on the throne which +your child yonder might otherwise aspire to mount!” + +Isabel clasped her hands in mute passion. + +“Hark!” said the confidant, throwing open the door-- + +And along the corridor came, in measured pomp, a stately procession, the +chamberlain in front, announcing “Her Highness the Princess of Wales;” + and Louis XI., leading the virgin bride (wife but in name and honour, +till her dowry of a kingdom was made secure) to her gentle rest. The +ceremonial pomp, the regal homage that attended the younger sister thus +raised above herself, completed in Isabel’s jealous heart the triumph of +the Tempter. Her face settled into hard resolve, and she passed at once +from the chamber into one near at hand, where the Duke of Clarence sat +alone, the rich wines of the livery, not untasted, before him, and the +ink yet wet upon a scroll he had just indited. + +He turned his irresolute countenance to Isabel as she bent over him and +read the letter. It was to Edward; and after briefly warning him of the +meditated invasion, significantly added, “and if I may seem to share +this emprise, which, here and alone, I cannot resist, thou shalt find +me still, when the moment comes, thy affectionate brother and loyal +subject.” + +“Well, Isabel,” said the duke, “thou knowest I have delayed this till +the last hour to please thee; for verily, lady mine, thy will is my +sweetest law. But now, if thy heart misgives thee--” + +“It does, it does!” exclaimed the duchess, bursting into tears. + +“If thy heart misgives thee,” continued Clarence, who with all his +weakness had much of the duplicity of his brothers, “why, let it pass. +Slavery to scornful Margaret, vassalage to thy sister’s spouse, triumph +to the House which both thou and I were taught from childhood to deem +accursed,--why, welcome all! so that Isabel does not weep, and our boy +reproach us not in the days to come!” + +For all answer, Isabel, who had seized the letter, let it drop on the +table, pushed it, with averted face, towards the duke, and turned back +to the cradle of her child, whom she woke with her sobs, and who wailed +its shrill reply in infant petulance and terror, snatched from its +slumber to the arms of the remorseful mother. + +A smile of half contemptuous joy passed over the thin lips of the +she-Judas, and, without speaking, she took her way to Clarence. He had +sealed and bound his letter, first adding these words, “My lady and +duchess, whatever her kin, has seen this letter, and approves it, +for she is more a friend to York than to the earl, now he has turned +Lancastrian;” and placed it in a small iron coffer. + +He gave the coffer, curiously clasped and locked, to the gentlewoman, +with a significant glance--“Be quick, or she repents! The courier waits, +his steed saddled! The instant you give it, he departs,--he hath his +permit to pass the gates.” + +“All is prepared; ere the clock strike, he is on his way.” The confidant +vanished; the duke sank in his chair, and rubbed his hands. + +“Oho, father-in-law, thou deemest me too dull for a crown! I am not dull +enough for thy tool. I have had the wit, at least, to deceive thee, +and to hide resentment beneath a smiling brow! Dullard, thou to believe +aught less than the sovereignty of England could have bribed Clarence to +thy cause!” He turned to the table and complacently drained his goblet. + +Suddenly, haggard and pale as a spectre, Isabel stood before him. + +“I was mad--mad, George! The letter! the letter--it must not go!” + +At that moment the clock struck. + +“Bel enfant,” said the duke, “it is too late!” + + + + +BOOK X. THE RETURN OF THE KING-MAKER. + + + + +CHAPTER I. THE MAID’S HOPE, THE COURTIER’S LOVE, AND THE SAGE’S COMFORT. + +Fair are thy fields, O England; fair the rural farm and the orchards in +which the blossoms have ripened into laughing fruits; and fairer than +all, O England, the faces of thy soft-eyed daughters! + +From the field where Sibyll and her father had wandered amidst the dead, +the dismal witnesses of war had vanished; and over the green pastures +roved the gentle flocks. And the farm to which Hastings had led the +wanderers looked upon that peaceful field through its leafy screen; and +there father and daughter had found a home. + +It was a lovely summer evening; and Sibyll put aside the broidery frame, +at which, for the last hour, she had not worked, and gliding to the +lattice, looked wistfully along the winding lane. The room was in the +upper story, and was decorated with a care which the exterior of the +house little promised, and which almost approached to elegance. The +fresh green rushes that strewed the floor were intermingled with dried +wild thyme and other fragrant herbs. The bare walls were hung with serge +of a bright and cheerful blue; a rich carpet de cuir covered the oak +table, on which lay musical instruments, curiously inlaid, with a few +manuscripts, chiefly of English and Provencal poetry. The tabourets +were covered with cushions of Norwich worsted, in gay colours. All was +simple, it is true, yet all betokened a comfort--ay, a refinement, an +evidence of wealth--very rare in the houses even of the second order of +nobility. + +As Sibyll gazed, her face suddenly brightened; she uttered a joyous cry, +hurried from the room, descended the stairs, and passed her father, who +was seated without the porch, and seemingly plunged in one of his most +abstracted reveries. She kissed his brow (he heeded her not), bounded +with a light step over the sward of the orchard, and pausing by a wicket +gate, listened with throbbing heart to the advancing sound of a horse’s +hoofs. Nearer came the sound, and nearer. A cavalier appeared in sight, +sprang from his saddle, and, leaving his palfrey to find his way to the +well-known stable, sprang lightly over the little gate. + +“And thou hast watched for me, Sibyll?” + +The girl blushingly withdrew from the eager embrace, and said +touchingly, “My heart watcheth for thee alway. Oh, shall I thank or +chide thee for so much care? Thou wilt see how thy craftsmen have +changed the rugged homestead into the daintiest bower!” + +“Alas! my Sibyll! would that it were worthier of thy beauty, and our +mutual troth! Blessings on thy trust and sweet patience; may the day +soon come when I may lead thee to a nobler home, and hear knight and +baron envy the bride of Hastings!” + +“My own lord!” said Sibyll, with grateful tears in confiding eyes; but, +after a pause, she added timidly, “Does the king still bear so stern a +memory against so humble a subject?” + +“The king is more wroth than before, since tidings of Lord Warwick’s +restless machinations in France have soured his temper. He cannot hear +thy name without threats against thy father as a secret adherent of +Lancaster, and accuseth thee of witching his chamberlain,--as, in truth, +thou hast. The Duchess of Bedford is more than ever under the influence +of Friar Bungey, to whose spells and charms, and not to our good swords, +she ascribes the marvellous flight of Warwick and the dispersion of +our foes; and the friar, methinks, has fostered and yet feeds Edward’s +suspicions of thy harmless father. The king chides himself for +having suffered poor Warner to depart unscathed, and even recalls the +disastrous adventure of the mechanical, and swears that from the first +thy father was in treasonable conspiracy with Margaret. Nay, sure I am, +that if I dared to wed thee while his anger lasts, he would condemn thee +as a sorceress, and give me up to the secret hate of my old foes the +Woodvilles. But fie! be not so appalled, my Sibyll; Edward’s passions, +though fierce, are changeful, and patience will reward us both.” + +“Meanwhile, thou lovest me, Hastings!” said Sibyll, with great emotion. +“Oh, if thou knewest how I torment myself in thine absence! I see thee +surrounded by the fairest and the loftiest, and say to myself, ‘Is +it possible that he can remember me?’ But thou lovest me +still--still--still, and ever! Dost thou not?” + +And Hastings said and swore. + +“And the Lady Bonville?” asked Sibyll, trying to smile archly, but with +the faltering tone of jealous fear. + +“I have not seen her for months,” replied the noble, with a slight +change of countenance. “She is at one of their western manors. They say +her lord is sorely ill; and the Lady Bonville is a devout hypocrite, and +plays the tender wife. But enough of such ancient and worn-out memories. +Thy father--sorrows he still for his Eureka? I can learn no trace of +it.” + +“See,” said Sibyll, recalled to her filial love, and pointing to Warner +as they now drew near the house, “see, he shapes another Eureka from his +thoughts!” + +“How fares it, dear Warner?” asked the noble, taking the scholar’s hand. + +“Ah,” cried the student, roused at the sight of his powerful +protector, “bringest thou tidings of IT? Thy cheerful eye tells me +that--no--no--thy face changes! They have destroyed it! Oh, that I could +be young once more!” + +“What!” said the world-wise man, astonished. “If thou hadst another +youth, wouldst thou cherish the same delusion, and go again through a +life of hardship, persecution, and wrong?” + +“My noble son,” said the philosopher, “for hours when I have felt the +wrong, the persecution, and the hardship, count the days and the nights +when I felt only the hope and the glory and the joy! God is kinder to us +all than man can know; for man looks only to the sorrow on the surface, +and sees not the consolation in the deeps of the unwitnessed soul.” + +Sibyll had left Hastings by her father’s side, and tripped lightly +to the farther part of the house, inhabited by the rustic owners who +supplied the homely service, to order the evening banquet,--the happy +banquet; for hunger gives not such flavour to the viand, nor thirst such +sparkle to the wine, as the presence of a beloved guest. + +And as the courtier seated himself on the rude settle under the +honeysuckles that wreathed the porch, a delicious calm stole over his +sated mind. The pure soul of the student, released a while from the +tyranny of an earthly pursuit,--the drudgery of a toil, that however +grand, still but ministered to human and material science,--had found +for its only other element the contemplation of more solemn and eternal +mysteries. Soaring naturally, as a bird freed from a golden cage, +into the realms of heaven, he began now, with earnest and spiritual +eloquence, to talk of the things and visions lately made familiar to his +thoughts. Mounting from philosophy to religion, he indulged in his large +ideas upon life and nature: of the stars that now came forth in heaven; +of the laws that gave harmony to the universe; of the evidence of a God +in the mechanism of creation; of the spark from central divinity, that, +kindling in a man’s soul, we call “genius;” of the eternal resurrection +of the dead, which makes the very principle of being, and types, in the +leaf and in the atom, the immortality of the great human race. He was +sublimer, that gray old man, hunted from the circle of his kind, in his +words, than ever is action in its deeds; for words can fathom truth, and +deeds but blunderingly and lamely seek it. + +And the sad and gifted and erring intellect of Hastings, rapt from its +little ambition of the hour, had no answer when his heart asked, +“What can courts and a king’s smile give me in exchange for serene +tranquillity and devoted love?” + + + + +CHAPTER II. THE MAN AWAKES IN THE SAGE, AND THE SHE-WOLF AGAIN HATH +TRACKED THE LAMB. + +From the night in which Hastings had saved from the knives of the +tymbesteres Sibyll and her father, his honour and chivalry had made him +their protector. The people of the farm (a widow and her children, with +the peasants in their employ) were kindly and simple folks. What safer +home for the wanderers than that to which Hastings had removed them? The +influence of Sibyll over his variable heart or fancy was renewed. Again +vows were interchanged and faith plighted. Anthony Woodville, Lord +Rivers, who, however gallant an enemy, was still more than ever, since +Warwick’s exile, a formidable one, and who shared his sister’s dislike +to Hastings, was naturally at that time in the fullest favour of King +Edward, anxious to atone for the brief disgrace his brother-in-law +had suffered during the later days of Warwick’s administration. And +Hastings, offended by the manners of the rival favourite, took one of +the disgusts so frequent in the life of a courtier, and, despite his +office of chamberlain, absented himself much from his sovereign’s +company. Thus, in the reaction of his mind, the influence of Sibyll was +greater than it otherwise might have been. His visits to the farm were +regular and frequent. The widow believed him nearly related to Sibyll, +and suspected Warner to be some attainted Lancastrian, compelled to hide +in secret till his pardon was obtained; and no scandal was attached to +the noble’s visits, nor any surprise evinced at his attentive care for +all that could lend a grace to a temporary refuge unfitting the quality +of his supposed kindred. + +And, in her entire confidence and reverential affection, Sibyll’s very +pride was rather soothed than wounded by obligations which were but +proofs of love, and to which plighted troth gave her a sweet right. As +for Warner, he had hitherto seemed to regard the great lord’s attentions +only as a tribute to his own science, and a testimony of the interest +which a statesman might naturally feel in the invention of a thing that +might benefit the realm. And Hastings had been delicate in the pretexts +of his visits. One time he called to relate the death of poor Madge, +though he kindly concealed the manner of it, which he had discovered, +but which opinion, if not law, forbade him to attempt to punish: +drowning was but the orthodox ordeal of a suspected witch, and it was +not without many scruples that the poor woman was interred in holy +ground. The search for the Eureka was a pretence that sufficed for +countless visits; and then, too, Hastings had counselled Adam to sell +the ruined house, and undertaken the negotiation; and the new comforts +of their present residence, and the expense of the maintenance, were +laid to the account of the sale. Hastings had begun to consider Adam +Warner as utterly blind and passive to the things that passed under his +eyes; and his astonishment was great when, the morning after the visit +we have just recorded, Adam, suddenly lifting his eyes, and seeing the +guest whispering soft tales in Sibyll’s ear, rose abruptly, approached +the nobleman, took him gently by the arm, led him into the garden, and +thus addressed him,-- + +“Noble lord, you have been tender and generous in our misfortunes. The +poor Eureka is lost to me and the world forever. God’s will be done! +Methinks Heaven designs thereby to rouse me to the sense of nearer +duties; and I have a daughter whose name I adjure you not to sully, +and whose heart I pray you not to break. Come hither no more, my Lord +Hastings.” + +This speech, almost the only one which showed plain sense and judgment +in the affairs of this life that the man of genius had ever uttered, so +confounded Hastings, that he with difficulty recovered himself enough to +say,-- + +“My poor scholar, what hath so suddenly kindled suspicions which wrong +thy child and me?” + +“Last eve, when we sat together, I saw your hand steal into hers, and +suddenly I remembered the day when I was young, and wooed her mother! +And last night I slept not, and sense and memory became active for my +living child, as they were wont to be only for the iron infant of my +mind, and I said to myself, ‘Lord Hastings is King Edward’s friend; and +King Edward spares not maiden honour. Lord Hastings is a mighty peer, +and he will not wed the dowerless and worse than nameless girl!’ Be +merciful! Depart, depart!” + +“But,” exclaimed Hastings, “if I love thy sweet Sibyll in all honesty, +if I have plighted to her my troth--” + +“Alas, alas!” groaned Adam. + +“If I wait but my king’s permission to demand her wedded hand, couldst +thou forbid me the presence of my affianced?” + +“She loves thee, then?” said Adam, in a tone of great anguish,--“she +loves thee,--speak!” + +“It is my pride to think it.” + +“Then go,--go at once; come back no more till thou hast wound up thy +courage to brave the sacrifice; no, not till the priest is ready at the +altar, not till the bridegroom can claim the bride. And as that time +will never come--never--never--leave me to whisper to the breaking +heart, ‘Courage; honour and virtue are left thee yet, and thy mother +from heaven looks down on a stainless child!’” + +The resuscitation of the dead could scarcely have startled and awed +the courtier more than this abrupt development of life and passion and +energy in a man who had hitherto seemed to sleep in the folds of his +thought, as a chrysalis in its web. But as we have always seen that +ever, when this strange being woke from his ideal abstraction, he awoke +to honour and courage and truth, so now, whether, as he had said, the +absence of the Eureka left his mind to the sense of practical duties, +or whether their common suffering had more endeared to him his gentle +companion, and affection sharpened reason, Adam Warner became puissant +and majestic in his rights and sanctity of father,--greater in his +homely household character, than when, in his mania of inventor, and +the sublime hunger of aspiring genius, he had stolen to his daughter’s +couch, and waked her with the cry of “Gold!” + +Before the force and power of Adam’s adjuration, his outstretched +hand, the anguish, yet authority, written on his face, all the art +and self-possession of the accomplished lover deserted him, as one +spell-bound. + +He was literally without reply; till, suddenly, the sight of Sibyll, +who, surprised by this singular conference, but unsuspecting its nature, +now came from the house, relieved and nerved him; and his first impulse +was then, as ever, worthy and noble, such as showed, though dimly, how +glorious a creature he had been, if cast in a time and amidst a race +which could have fostered the impulse into habit. + +“Brave old man!” he said, kissing the hand still raised in command, +“thou hast spoken as beseems thee; and my answer I will tell thy child.” + Then hurrying to the wondering Sibyll, he resumed: “Your father says +well, that not thus, dubious and in secret, should I visit the home +blest by thy beloved presence. I obey; I leave thee, Sibyll. I go to +my king, as one who hath served him long and truly, and claims his +guerdon,--thee!” + +“Oh, my lord!” exclaimed Sibyll, in generous terror, “bethink thee well; +remember what thou saidst but last eve. This king so fierce, my name so +hated! No, no! leave me. Farewell forever, if it be right, as what thou +and my father say must be. But thy life, thy liberty, thy welfare,--they +are my happiness; thou hast no right to endanger them!” And she fell at +his knees. He raised and strained her to his heart; then resigning her +to her father’s arms, he said in a voice choked with emotion,-- + +“Not as peer and as knight, but as man, I claim my prerogative of +home and hearth. Let Edward frown, call back his gifts, banish me his +court,--thou art more worth than all! Look for me, sigh not, weep not, +smile till we meet again!” He left them with these words, hastened to +the stall where his steed stood, caparisoned it with his own hands, +and rode with the speed of one whom passion spurs and goads towards the +Tower of London. + +But as Sibyll started from her father’s arms, when she heard the +departing hoofs of her lover’s steed,--to listen and to listen for the +last sound that told of him,--a terrible apparition, ever ominous of woe +and horror, met her eye. On the other side of the orchard fence, which +concealed her figure, but not her well-known face, which peered above, +stood the tymbestere, Graul. A shriek of terror at this recognition +burst from Sibyll, as she threw herself again upon Adam’s breast; but +when he looked round to discover the cause of her alarm, Graul was gone. + + + + +CHAPTER III. VIRTUOUS RESOLVES SUBMITTED TO THE TEST OF VANITY AND THE +WORLD. + +On reaching his own house, Hastings learned that the court was still +at Shene. He waited but till the retinue which his rank required were +equipped and ready, and reached the court, from which of late he had +found so many excuses to absent himself, before night. Edward was then +at the banquet, and Hastings was too experienced a courtier to disturb +him at such a time. In a mood unfit for companionship, he took his way +to the apartments usually reserved for him, when a gentleman met him by +the way, and apprised him, with great respect, that the Lord Scales +and Rivers had already appropriated those apartments to the principal +waiting-lady of his countess,--but that other chambers, if less +commodious and spacious, were at his command. + +Hastings had not the superb and more than regal pride of Warwick and +Montagu; but this notice sensibly piqued and galled him. + +“My apartments as Lord Chamberlain, as one of the captain-generals in +the king’s army, given to the waiting-lady of Sir Anthony Woodville’s +wife! At whose orders, sir?” + +“Her highness the queen’s; pardon me, my lord,” and the gentleman, +looking round, and sinking his voice, continued, “pardon me, her +highness added, ‘If my Lord Chamberlain returns not ere the week ends, +he may find not only the apartment, but the office, no longer free.’ My +lord, we all love you--forgive my zeal, and look well if you would guard +your own.” + +“Thanks, sir. Is my lord of Gloucester in the palace?” + +“He is,--and in his chamber. He sits not long at the feast.” + +“Oblige me by craving his grace’s permission to wait on him at leisure; +I attend his answer here.” + +Leaning against the wall of the corridor, Hastings gave himself up +to other thoughts than those of love. So strong is habit, so powerful +vanity or ambition, once indulged, that this puny slight made a sudden +revulsion in the mind of the royal favourite; once more the agitated and +brilliant court life stirred and fevered him,--that life, so wearisome +when secure, became sweeter when imperilled. To counteract his foes, to +humble his rivals, to regain the king’s countenance, to baffle, with the +easy art of his skilful intellect, every hostile stratagem,--such were +the ideas that crossed and hurtled themselves, and Sibyll was forgotten. + +The gentleman reappeared. “Prince Richard besought my lord’s presence +with loving welcome;” and to the duke’s apartment went Lord Hastings. +Richard, clad in a loose chamber robe, which concealed the defects of +his shape, rose from before a table covered with papers, and embraced +Hastings with cordial affection. + +“Never more gladly hail to thee, dear William. I need thy wise counsels +with the king, and I have glad tidings for thine own ear.” + +“Pardieu, my prince; the king, methinks, will scarce heed the counsels +of a dead man.” + +“Dead?” + +“Ay. At court it seems men are dead,--their rooms filled, their places +promised or bestowed,--if they come not, morn and night, to convince +the king that they are alive.” And Hastings, with constrained gayety, +repeated the information he had received. + +“What would you, Hastings?” said the duke, shrugging his shoulders, +but with some latent meaning in his tone. “Lord Rivers were nought in +himself; but his lady is a mighty heiress, [Elizabeth secured to her +brother, Sir Anthony, the greatest heiress in the kingdom, in the +daughter of Lord Scales,--a wife, by the way, who is said to have been +a mere child at the time of the marriage.] and requires state, as she +bestows pomp. Look round, and tell me what man ever maintained himself +in power without the strong connections, the convenient dower, the +acute, unseen, unsleeping woman-influence of some noble wife? How can a +poor man defend his repute, his popular name, that airy but all puissant +thing we call dignity or station, against the pricks and stings of +female intrigue and female gossip? But he marries, and, lo, a host of +fairy champions, who pinch the rival lozels unawares: his wife hath +her army of courtpie and jupon, to array against the dames of his foes! +Wherefore, my friend, while thou art unwedded, think not to cope with +Lord Rivers, who hath a wife with three sisters, two aunts, and a score +of she-cousins!” + +“And if,” replied Hastings, more and more unquiet under the duke’s +truthful irony,--“if I were now to come to ask the king permission to +wed--” + +“If thou wert, and the bride-elect were a lady with power and wealth and +manifold connections, and the practice of a court, thou wouldst be the +mightiest lord in the kingdom since Warwick’s exile.” + +“And if she had but youth, beauty, and virtue?” + +“Oh, then, my Lord Hastings, pray thy patron saint for a war,--for in +peace thou wouldst be lost amongst the crowd. But truce to these jests; +for thou art not the man to prate of youth, virtue, and such like, in +sober earnest, amidst this work-day world, where nothing is young and +nothing virtuous;--and listen to grave matters.” + +The duke then communicated to Hastings the last tidings received of the +machinations of Warwick. He was in high spirits; for those last tidings +but reported Margaret’s refusal to entertain the proposition of a +nuptial alliance with the earl, though, on the other hand, the Duke of +Burgundy, who was in constant correspondence with his spies, wrote word +that Warwick was collecting provisions, from his own means, for more +than sixty thousand men; and that, with Lancaster or without, the earl +was prepared to match his own family interest against the armies of +Edward. + +“And,” said Hastings, “if all his family joined with him, what foreign +king could be so formidable an invader? Maltravers and the Mowbrays, +Fauconberg, Westmoreland, Fitzhugh, Stanley, Bonville, Worcester--” + +“But happily,” said Gloucester, “the Mowbrays have been allied also to +the queen’s sister; Worcester detests Warwick; Stanley always murmurs +against us, a sure sign that he will fight for us; and Bonville--I have +in view a trusty Yorkist to whom the retainers of that House shall be +assigned. But of that anon. What I now wish from thy wisdom is, to aid +me in rousing Edward from his lethargy; he laughs at his danger, and +neither communicates with his captains nor mans his coasts. His courage +makes him a dullard.” + +After some further talk on these heads, and more detailed account of the +preparations which Gloucester deemed necessary to urge on the king, the +duke, then moving his chair nearer to Hastings, said with a smile,-- + +“And now, Hastings, to thyself: it seems that thou hast not heard the +news which reached us four days since. The Lord Bonville is dead,--died +three months ago at his manor house in Devon. [To those who have read +the “Paston Letters” it will not seem strange that in that day the death +of a nobleman at his country seat should be so long in reaching the +metropolis,--the ordinary purveyors of communication were the itinerant +attendants of fairs; and a father might be ignorant for months together +of the death of his son.] Thy Katherine is free, and in London. Well, +man, where is thy joy?” + +“Time is, time was!” said Hastings, gloomily. “The day has passed when +this news could rejoice me.” + +“Passed! nay, thy good stars themselves have fought for thee in delay. +Seven goodly manors swell the fair widow’s jointure; the noble dowry she +brought returns to her. Her very daughter will bring thee power. Young +Cecily Bonville [afterwards married to Dorset], the heiress, Lord Dorset +demands in betrothal. Thy wife will be mother-in-law to thy queen’s son; +on the other hand, she is already aunt to the Duchess of Clarence; +and George, be sure, sooner or later, will desert Warwick, and win his +pardon. Powerful connections, vast possessions, a lady of immaculate +name and surpassing beauty, and thy first love!--(thy hand +trembles!)--thy first love, thy sole love, and thy last!” + +“Prince--Prince! forbear! Even if so--In brief, Katherine loves me not!” + +“Thou mistakest! I have seen her, and she loves thee not the less +because her virtue so long concealed the love.” Hastings uttered an +exclamation of passionate joy, but again his face darkened. + +Gloucester watched him in silence; besides any motive suggested by the +affection he then sincerely bore to Hastings, policy might well interest +the duke in the securing to so loyal a Yorkist the hand and the wealth +of Lord Warwick’s sister; but, prudently not pressing the subject +further, he said, in an altered and careless voice, “Pardon me if I +have presumed on matters on which each man judges for himself. But as, +despite all obstacle, one day or other Anne Nevile shall be mine, it +would have delighted me to know a near connection in Lord Hastings. And +now the hour grows late, I prithee let Edward find thee in his chamber.” + +When Hastings attended the king, he at once perceived that Edward’s +manner was changed to him. At first, he attributed the cause to the ill +offices of the queen and her brother; but the king soon betrayed the +true source of his altered humour. + +“My lord,” he said abruptly, “I am no saint, as thou knowest; but there +are some ties, par amour, which, in my mind, become not knights and +nobles about a king’s person.” + +“My liege, I arede you not.” + +“Tush, William!” replied the king, more gently, “thou hast more than +once wearied me with application for the pardon of the nigromancer +Warner,--the whole court is scandalized at thy love for his daughter. +Thou hast absented thyself from thine office on poor pretexts! I know +thee too well not to be aware that love alone can make thee neglect thy +king,--thy time has been spent at the knees or in the arms of this young +sorceress! One word for all times,--he whom a witch snares cannot be a +king’s true servant! I ask of thee as a right, or as a grace, see this +fair ribaude no more! What, man, are there not ladies enough in merry +England, that thou shouldst undo thyself for so unchristian a fere?” + +“My king! how can this poor maid have angered thee thus?” + +“Knowest thou not”--began the king, sharply, and changing colour as he +eyed his favourite’s mournful astonishment,--“ah, well!” he muttered to +himself, “they have been discreet hitherto, but how long will they be +so? I am in time yet. It is enough,”--he added, aloud and gravely--“it +is enough that our learned [it will be remembered that Edward himself +was a man of no learning] Bungey holds her father as a most pestilent +wizard, whose spells are muttered for Lancaster and the rebel Warwick; +that the girl hath her father’s unholy gifts, and I lay my command on +thee, as liege king, and I pray thee, as loving friend, to see no more +either child or sire! Let this suffice--and now I will hear thee on +state matters.” + +Whatever Hastings might feel, he saw that it was no time to venture +remonstrance with the king, and strove to collect his thoughts, and +speak indifferently on the high interests to which Edward invited him; +but he was so distracted and absent that he made but a sorry counsellor, +and the king, taking pity on him, dismissed his chamberlain for the +night. + +Sleep came not to the couch of Hastings; his acuteness perceived +that whatever Edward’s superstition, and he was a devout believer in +witchcraft, some more worldly motive actuated him in his resentment +to poor Sibyll. But as we need scarcely say that neither from the +abstracted Warner nor his innocent daughter had Hastings learned the +true cause, he wearied himself with vain conjectures, and knew not that +Edward involuntarily did homage to the superior chivalry of his gallant +favourite, when he dreaded that, above all men, Hastings should be made +aware of the guilty secret which the philosopher and his child could +tell. If Hastings gave his name and rank to Sibyll, how powerful a +weight would the tale of a witness now so obscure suddenly acquire! + +Turning from the image of Sibyll, thus beset with thoughts of danger, +embarrassment, humiliation, disgrace, ruin, Lord Hastings recalled the +words of Gloucester; and the stately image of Katherine, surrounded with +every memory of early passion, every attribute of present ambition, rose +before him; and he slept at last, to dream not of Sibyll and the humble +orchard, but of Katherine in her maiden bloom, of the trysting-tree by +the halls of Middleham, of the broken ring, of the rapture and the woe +of his youth’s first high-placed love. + + + + +CHAPTER IV. THE STRIFE WHICH SIBYLL HAD COURTED, BETWEEN KATHERINE AND +HERSELF, COMMENCES IN SERIOUS EARNEST. + +Hastings felt relieved when, the next day, several couriers arrived with +tidings so important as to merge all considerations into those of state. +A secret messenger from the French court threw Gloucester into one of +those convulsive passions of rage, to which, with all his intellect and +dissimulation, he was sometimes subject, by the news of Anne’s betrothal +to Prince Edward; nor did the letter from Clarence to the king, +attesting the success of one of his schemes, comfort Richard for the +failure of the other. A letter from Burgundy confirmed the report of the +spy, announced Duke Charles’s intention of sending a fleet to prevent +Warwick’s invasion, and rated King Edward sharply for his supineness in +not preparing suitably against so formidable a foe. The gay and reckless +presumption of Edward, worthier of a knight-errant than a monarch, +laughed at the word invasion. “Pest on Burgundy’s ships! I only wish +that the earl would land!” [Com, iii. c. 5] he said to his council. +None echoed the wish! But later in the day came a third messenger with +information that roused all Edward’s ire; careless of each danger in +the distance, he ever sprang into energy and vengeance when a foe was +already in the field. And the Lord Fitzhugh (the young nobleman before +seen among the rebels at Olney, and who had now succeeded to the +honours of his House) had suddenly risen in the North, at the head of a +formidable rebellion. No man had so large an experience in the warfare +of those districts, the temper of the people, and the inclinations of +the various towns and lordships as Montagu; he was the natural chief to +depute against the rebels. Some animated discussion took place as to the +dependence to be placed in the marquis at such a crisis; but while the +more wary held it safer, at all hazards, not to leave him unemployed, +and to command his services in an expedition that would remove him +from the neighbourhood of his brother, should the latter land, as was +expected, on the coast of Norfolk, Edward, with a blindness of conceit +that seems almost incredible, believed firmly in the infatuated loyalty +of the man whom he had slighted and impoverished, and whom, by his offer +of his daughter to the Lancastrian prince, he had yet more recently +cozened and deluded. Montagu was hastily summoned, and received orders +to march at once to the North, levy forces, and assume their command. +The marquis obeyed with fewer words than were natural to him, left the +presence, sprang on his horse, and as he rode from the palace, drew a +letter from his bosom. “Ah, Edward,” said he, setting his teeth, “so, +after the solemn betrothal of thy daughter to my son, thou wouldst +have given her to thy Lancastrian enemy. Coward, to bribe his peace! +recreant, to belie thy word! I thank thee for this news, Warwick; for +without that injury I feel I could never, when the hour came, have +drawn sword against this faithless man,--especially for Lancaster. Ay, +tremble, thou who deridest all truth and honour! He who himself betrays, +cannot call vengeance treason!” + +Meanwhile, Edward departed, for further preparations, to the Tower of +London. New evidences of the mine beneath his feet here awaited the +incredulous king. On the door of St. Paul’s, of many of the metropolitan +churches, on the Standard at Chepe, and on London Bridge, during +the past night, had been affixed, none knew by whom, the celebrated +proclamation, signed by Warwick and Clarence (drawn up in the bold style +of the earl), announcing their speedy return, containing a brief +and vigorous description of the misrule of the realm, and their +determination to reform all evils and redress all wrongs. [See, for this +proclamation, Ellis’s “Original Letters,” vol. i., second series, +letter 42.] Though the proclamation named not the restoration of the +Lancastrian line (doubtless from regard for Henry’s safety), all men +in the metropolis were already aware of the formidable league between +Margaret and Warwick. Yet, even still, Edward smiled in contempt, for +he had faith in the letter received from Clarence, and felt assured that +the moment the duke and the earl landed, the former would betray +his companion stealthily to the king; so, despite all these exciting +subjects of grave alarm, the nightly banquet at the Tower was never +merrier and more joyous. Hastings left the feast ere it deepened into +revel, and, absorbed in various and profound contemplation, entered his +apartment. He threw himself on a seat, and leaned his face on his hands. + +“Oh, no, no!” he muttered; “now, in the hour when true greatness is +most seen, when prince and peer crowd around me for counsel, when noble, +knight, and squire crave permission to march in the troop of which +Hastings is the leader,--now I feel how impossible, how falsely fair, +the dream that I could forget all--all for a life of obscurity, for a +young girl’s love! Love! as if I had not felt its delusions to palling! +love, as if I could love again: or, if love--alas, it must be a light +reflected but from memory! And Katherine is free once more!” His eye +fell as he spoke, perhaps in shame and remorse that, feeling thus now, +he had felt so differently when he bade Sibyll smile till his return! + +“It is the air of this accursed court which taints our best resolves!” + he murmured, as an apology for himself; but scarcely was the poor excuse +made, than the murmur broke into an exclamation of surprise and joy. A +letter lay before him; he recognized the hand of Katherine. What years +had passed since her writing had met his eye, since the lines that bade +him “farewell, and forget!” Those lines had been blotted with tears, +and these, as he tore open the silk that bound them--these, the trace +of tears, too, was on them! Yet they were but few, and in tremulous +characters. They ran thus:-- + +To-morrow, before noon, the Lord Hastings is prayed to visit one whose +life he hath saddened by the thought and the accusation that she hath +clouded and embittered his. KATHERINE DE BONVILLE. + +Leaving Hastings to such meditations of fear or of hope as these lines +could call forth, we lead the reader to a room not very distant from his +own,--the room of the illustrious Friar Bungey. + +The ex-tregetour was standing before the captured Eureka, and gazing on +it with an air of serio-comic despair and rage. We say the Eureka, as +comprising all the ingenious contrivances towards one single object +invented by its maker, a harmonious compound of many separate details; +but the iron creature no longer deserved that superb appellation, +for its various members were now disjointed and dislocated, and lay +pell-mell in multiform confusion. + +By the side of the friar stood a female, enveloped in a long scarlet +mantle, with the hood partially drawn over the face, but still leaving +visible the hard, thin, villanous lips, the stern, sharp chin, and the +jaw resolute and solid as if hewed from stone. + +“I tell thee, Graul,” said the friar, “that thou hast had far the best +of the bargain. I have put this diabolical contrivance to all manner of +shapes, and have muttered over it enough Latin to have charmed a monster +into civility. And the accursed thing, after nearly pinching off three +fingers, and scalding me with seething water, and spluttering and +sputtering enough to have terrified any man but Friar Bungey out of his +skin, is obstinatus ut mulum,--dogged as a mule; and was absolutely good +for nought, till I happily thought of separating this vessel from all +the rest of the gear, and it serves now for the boiling my eggs! But by +the soul of Father Merlin, whom the saints assoil, I need not have given +myself all this torment for a thing which, at best, does the work of a +farthing pipkin!” + +“Quick, master; the hour is late! I must go while yet the troopers and +couriers and riders, hurrying to and fro, keep the gates from closing. +What wantest thou with Graul?” + +“More reverence, child!” growled the friar. “What I want of thee is +briefly told, if thou hast the wit to serve me. This miserable +Warner must himself expound to me the uses and trick of his malignant +contrivance. Thou must find and bring him hither!” + +“And if he will not expound?” + +“The deputy governor of the Tower will lend me a stone dungeon, and, if +need be, the use of the brake to unlock the dotard’s tongue.” + +“On what plea?” + +“That Adam Warner is a wizard, in the pay of Lord Warwick, whom a more +mighty master like myself alone can duly examine and defeat.” + +“And if I bring thee the sorcerer, what wilt thou teach me in return?” + +“What desirest thou most?” + +Graul mused, and said, “There is war in the wind. Graul follows the +camp, her trooper gets gold and booty. But the trooper is stronger than +Graul; and when the trooper sleeps it is with his knife by his side, +and his sleep is light and broken, for he has wicked dreams. Give me a +potion to make sleep deep, that his eyes may not open when Graul filches +his gold, and his hand may be too heavy to draw the knife from its +sheath!” + +“Immunda, detestabilis! thine own paramour!” + +“He hath beat me with his bridle rein, he hath given a silver broad +piece to Grisell; Grisell hath sat on his knee; Graul never pardons!” + +The friar, rogue as he was, shuddered. “I cannot help thee to murder, I +cannot give thee the potion; name some other reward.” + +“I go--” + +“Nay, nay, think, pause.” + +“I know where Warner is hid. By this hour to-morrow night, I can place +him in thy power. Say the word, and pledge me the draught.” + +“Well, well, mulier abominabilis!--that is, irresistible bonnibell. I +cannot give thee the potion; but I will teach thee an art which can make +sleep heavier than the anodyne, and which wastes not like the essence, +but strengthens by usage,--an art thou shalt have at thy fingers’ +ends, and which often draws from the sleeper the darkest secrets of his +heart.” [We have before said that animal magnetism was known to Bungey, +and familiar to the necromancers, or rather theurgists, of the Middle +Ages.] + +“It is magic,” said Graul, with joy. + +“Ay, magic.” + +“I will bring thee the wizard. But listen; he never stirs abroad, save +with his daughter. I must bring both.” + +“Nay, I want not the girl.” + +“But I dare not throttle her, for a great lord loves her, who would find +out the deed and avenge it; and if she be left behind, she will go +to the lord, and the lord will discover what thou hast done with the +wizard, and thou wilt hang!” + +“Never say ‘Hang’ to me, Graul: it is ill-mannered and ominous. Who is +the lord?” + +“Hastings.” + +“Pest!--and already he hath been searching for the thing yonder; and I +have brooded over it night and day, like a hen over a chalk egg,--only +that the egg does not snap off the hen’s claws, as that diabolism would +fain snap off my digits. But the war will carry Hastings away in its +whirlwind; and, in danger, the duchess is my slave, and will bear me +through all. So, thou mayst bring the girl; and strangle her not; for +no good ever comes of a murder,--unless, indeed, it be absolutely +necessary!” + +“I know the men who will help me, bold ribauds, whom I will guerdon +myself; for I want not thy coins, but thy craft. When the curfew has +tolled, and the bat hunts the moth, we will bring thee the quarry--” + +Graul turned; but as she gained the door, she stopped, and said +abruptly, throwing back her hood,-- + +“What age dost thou deem me?” + +“Marry,” quoth the friar, “an’ I had not seen thee on thy mother’s knee +when she followed my stage of tregetour, I should have guessed thee for +thirty; but thou hast led too jolly a life to look still in the blossom. +Why speer’st thou the question?” + +“Because when trooper and ribaud say to me, ‘Graul, thou art too worn +and too old to drink of our cup and sit in the lap, to follow the young +fere to the battle, and weave the blithe dance in the fair,’ I would +depart from my sisters, and have a hut of my own, and a black cat +without a white hair, and steal herbs by the new moon, and bones from +the charnel, and curse those whom I hate, and cleave the misty air on +a besom, like Mother Halkin of Edmonton. Ha, ha! Master, thou shalt +present me then to the Sabbat. Graul has the mettle for a bonny witch!” + +The tymbestere vanished with a laugh. The friar muttered a paternoster +for once, perchance, devoutly, and after having again deliberately +scanned the disjecta membra of the Eureka, gravely took forth a duck’s +egg from his cupboard, and applied the master-agent of the machine which +Warner hoped was to change the face of the globe to the only practical +utility it possessed to the mountebank’s comprehension. + + + + +CHAPTER V. THE MEETING OF HASTINGS AND KATHERINE. + +The next morning, while Edward was engaged in levying from his opulent +citizens all the loans he could extract, knowing that gold is the sinew +of war; while Worcester was manning the fortress of the Tower, in which +the queen, then near her confinement, was to reside during the campaign; +while Gloucester was writing commissions to captains and barons to raise +men; while Sir Anthony Lord Rivers was ordering improvements in his +dainty damasquine armour, and the whole Fortress Palatine was animated +and alive with the stir of the coming strife,--Lord Hastings escaped +from the bustle, and repaired to the house of Katherine. With +what motive, with what intentions, was not known clearly to +himself,--perhaps, for there was bitterness in his very love for +Katherine, to enjoy the retaliation due to his own wounded pride, and +say to the idol of his youth, as he had said to Gloucester, “Time is, +time was;” perhaps with some remembrance of the faith due to Sibyll, +wakened up the more now that Katherine seemed actually to escape from +the ideal image into the real woman,--to be easily wooed and won. But, +certainly, Sibyll’s cause was not wholly lost, though greatly shaken and +endangered, when Lord Hastings alighted at Lady Bonville’s gate; but his +face gradually grew paler, his mien less assured, as he drew nearer and +nearer to the apartment and the presence of the widowed Katherine. + +She was seated alone, and in the same room in which he had last +seen her. Her deep mourning only served, by contrasting the pale and +exquisite clearness of her complexion, to enhance her beauty. Hastings +bowed low, and seated himself by her side in silence. + +The Lady of Bonville eyed him for some moments with an unutterable +expression of melancholy and tenderness. All her pride seemed to have +gone; the very character of her face was changed: grave severity had +become soft timidity, and stately self-control was broken into the +unmistaken struggle of hope and fear. + +“Hastings--William!” she said, in a gentle and low whisper, and at the +sound of that last name from those lips, the noble felt his veins thrill +and his heart throb. “If,” she continued, “the step I have taken seems +to thee unwomanly and too bold, know, at least, what was my design and +my excuse. There was a time” (and Katherine blushed) “when, thou knowest +well, that, had this hand been mine to bestow, it would have been his +who claimed the half of this ring.” And Katherine took from a small +crystal casket the well-remembered token. + +“The broken ring foretold but the broken troth,” said Hastings, averting +his face. + +“Thy conscience rebukes thy words,” replied Katherine, sadly; “I pledged +my faith, if thou couldst win my father’s word. What maid, and that maid +a Nevile, could so forget duty and honour as to pledge thee more? We +were severed. Pass--oh, pass over that time! My father loved me dearly; +but when did pride and ambition ever deign to take heed of the wild +fancies of a girl’s heart? Three suitors, wealthy lords, whose alliance +gave strength to my kindred in the day when their very lives depended on +their swords, were rivals for Earl Salisbury’s daughter. Earl Salisbury +bade his daughter choose. Thy great friend and my own kinsman, Duke +Richard of York, himself pleaded for thy rivals. He proved to me that my +disobedience--if, indeed, for the first time, a child of my House could +disobey its chief--would be an external barrier to thy fortune; that +while Salisbury was thy foe, he himself could not advance thy valiancy +and merit; that it was with me to forward thy ambition, though I could +not reward thy love; that from the hour I was another’s, my mighty +kinsmen themselves--for they were generous--would be the first to aid +the duke in thy career. Hastings, even then I would have prayed, at +least, to be the bride, not of man, but God. But I was trained--as what +noble demoiselle is not?--to submit wholly to a parent’s welfare and his +will. As a nun, I could but pray for the success of my father’s cause; +as a wife, I could bring to Salisbury and to York the retainers and +strongholds of a baron. I obeyed. Hear me on. Of the three suitors for +my hand, two were young and gallant,--women deemed them fair and comely; +and had my choice been one of these, thou mightest have deemed that a +new love had chased the old. Since choice was mine, I chose the man +love could not choose, and took this sad comfort to my heart, ‘He, the +forsaken Hastings, will see in my very choice that I was but the slave +of duty, my choice itself my penance.’” + +Katherine paused, and tears dropped fast from her eyes. Hastings held +his hand over his countenance, and only by the heaving of his heart was +his emotion visible. Katherine resumed:-- + +“Once wedded, I knew what became a wife. We met again; and to thy first +disdain and anger (which it had been dishonour in me to soothe by one +word that said, ‘The wife remembers the maiden’s love’),--to these, +thy first emotions, succeeded the more cruel revenge, which would have +changed sorrow and struggle to remorse and shame. And then, then--weak +woman that I was!--I wrapped myself in scorn and pride. Nay, I felt deep +anger--was it unjust?--that thou couldst so misread and so repay the +heart which had nothing left save virtue to compensate for love. And +yet, yet, often when thou didst deem me most hard, most proof against +memory and feeling--But why relate the trial? Heaven supported me, and +if thou lovest me no longer, thou canst not despise me.” + +At these last words Hastings was at her feet, bending over her hand, and +stifled by his emotions. Katherine gazed at him for a moment through her +own tears, and then resumed:-- + +“But thou hadst, as man, consolations no woman would desire or covet. +And oh, what grieved me most was, not--no, not the jealous, the +wounded vanity, but it was at least this self-accusation, this +remorse--that--but for one goading remembrance, of love returned and +love forsaken,--thou hadst never so descended from thy younger nature, +never so trifled with the solemn trust of TIME. Ah, when I have heard or +seen or fancied one fault in thy maturer manhood, unworthy of thy bright +youth, anger of myself has made me bitter and stern to thee; and if +I taunted or chid or vexed thy pride, how little didst thou know that +through the too shrewish humour spoke the too soft remembrance! For +this--for this; and believing that through all, alas! my image was not +replaced, when my hand was free, I was grateful that I might still--” + (the lady’s pale cheek grew brighter than the rose, her voice faltered, +and became low and indistinct)--“I might still think it mine to atone +to thee for the past. And if,” she added, with a sudden and generous +energy, “if in this I have bowed my pride, it is because by pride thou +wert wounded; and now, at last, thou hast a just revenge.” + +O terrible rival for thee, lost Sibyll! Was it wonderful that, while +that head drooped upon his breast, while in that enchanted change which +Love the softener makes in lips long scornful, eyes long proud and cold, +he felt that Katherine Nevile--tender, gentle, frank without boldness, +lofty without arrogance--had replaced the austere dame of Bonville, whom +he half hated while he wooed,--oh, was it wonderful that the soul of +Hastings fled back to the old time, forgot the intervening vows and more +chill affections, and repeated only with passionate lips, “Katherine, +loved still, loved ever, mine, mine, at last!” + +Then followed delicious silence, then vows, confessions, questions, +answers,--the thrilling interchange of hearts long divided, and now +rushing into one. And time rolled on, till Katherine, gently breaking +from her lover, said,-- + +“And now that thou hast the right to know and guide my projects, +approve, I pray thee, my present purpose. War awaits thee, and we must +part a while!” At these words her brow darkened and her lip quivered. +“Oh, that I should have lived to mourn the day when Lord Warwick, +untrue to Salisbury and to York, joined his arms with Lancaster and +Margaret,--the day when Katherine could blush for the brother she had +deemed the glory of her House! No, no” (she continued, as Hastings +interrupted her with generous excuses for the earl, and allusion to the +known slights he had received),--“no, no; make not his cause the worse +by telling me that an unworthy pride, the grudge of some thwart to his +policy or power, has made him forget what was due to the memory of his +kinsman York, to the mangled corpse of his father Salisbury. Thinkest +thou that but for this I could--” She stopped, but Hastings divined her +thought, and guessed that, if spoken, it had run thus: “That I could, +even now, have received the homage of one who departs to meet, with +banner and clarion, my brother as his foe?” + +The lovely sweetness of the late expression had gone from Katherine’s +face, and its aspect showed that her high and ancestral spirit had +yielded but to one passion. She pursued,-- + +“While this strife lasts, it becomes my widowhood and kindred position +with the earl to retire to the convent my mother founded. To-morrow I +depart.” + +“Alas!” said Hastings, “thou speakest of the strife as if but a single +field. But Warwick returns not to these shores, nor bows himself to +league with Lancaster, for a chance hazardous and desperate, as Edward +too rashly deems it. It is in vain to deny that the earl is prepared for +a grave and lengthened war, and much I doubt whether Edward can resist +his power; for the idolatry of the very land will swell the ranks of so +dread a rebel. What if he succeed; what if we be driven into exile, as +Henry’s friends before us; what if the king-maker be the king-dethroner? +Then, Katherine, then once more thou wilt be at the best of thy hostile +kindred, and once more, dowered as thou art, and thy womanhood still in +its richest bloom, thy hand will be lost to Hastings.” + +“Nay, if that be all thy fear, take with thee this pledge,--that +Warwick’s treason to the House for which my father fell dissolves +his power over one driven to disown him as a brother,--knowing Earl +Salisbury, had he foreseen such disgrace, had disowned him as a son. +And if there be defeat and flight and exile, wherever thou wanderest, +Hastings, shall Katherine be found beside thee. Fare thee well, and Our +Lady shield thee! may thy lance be victorious against all foes,--save +one. Thou wilt forbear my--that is, the earl!” And Katherine, softened +at that thought, sobbed aloud. + +“And come triumph or defeat, I have thy pledge?” said Hastings, soothing +her. + +“See,” said Katherine, taking the broken ring from the casket; “now, for +the first time since I bore the name of Bonville, I lay this relic on my +heart; art thou answered?” + + + + +CHAPTER VI. HASTINGS LEARNS WHAT HAS BEFALLEN SIBYLL, REPAIRS TO THE +KING, AND ENCOUNTERS AN OLD RIVAL. + +“It is destiny,” said Hastings to himself, when early the next morning +he was on his road to the farm--“it is destiny,--and who can resist his +fate?” + +“It is destiny!”--phrase of the weak human heart! “It is destiny!” dark +apology for every error! The strong and the virtuous admit no destiny! +On earth guides conscience, in heaven watches God. And destiny is but +the phantom we invoke to silence the one, to dethrone the other! + +Hastings spared not his good steed. With great difficulty had he +snatched a brief respite from imperious business, to accomplish the last +poor duty now left to him to fulfil,--to confront the maid whose heart +he had seduced in vain, and say at length, honestly and firmly, “I +cannot wed thee. Forget me, and farewell.” + +Doubtless his learned and ingenious mind conjured up softer words than +these, and more purfled periods wherein to dress the iron truth. But in +these two sentences the truth lay. He arrived at the farm, he entered +the house; he felt it as a reprieve that he met not the bounding step +of the welcoming Sibyll. He sat down in the humble chamber, and waited a +while in patience,--no voice was heard. The silence at length surprised +and alarmed him. He proceeded farther. He was met by the widowed owner +of the house, who was weeping; and her first greeting prepared him for +what had chanced. “Oh, my lord, you have come to tell me they are +safe, they have not fallen into the hands of their enemies,--the good +gentleman, so meek, the poor lady, so fair!” + +Hastings stood aghast; a few sentences more explained all that he +already guessed. A strange man had arrived the evening before at the +house, praying Adam and his daughter to accompany him to the Lord +Hastings, who had been thrown from his horse, and was now in a cottage +in the neighbouring lane,--not hurt dangerously, but unable to be +removed, and who had urgent matters to communicate. Not questioning the +truth of this story, Adam and Sibyll had hurried forth, and returned no +more. Alarmed by their long absence, the widow, who at first received +the message from the stranger, went herself to the cottage, and found +that the story was a fable. Every search had since been made for Adam +and his daughter, but in vain. The widow, confirmed in her previous +belief that her lodgers had been attainted Lancastrians, could but +suppose that they had been thus betrayed to their enemies. Hastings +heard this with a dismay and remorse impossible to express. His only +conjecture was that the king had discovered their retreat, and taken +this measure to break off the intercourse he had so sternly denounced. +Full of these ideas, he hastily remounted, and stopped not till once +more at the gates of the Tower. Hastening to Edward’s closet, the moment +he saw the king, he exclaimed, in great emotion, “My liege, my liege, do +not at this hour, when I have need of my whole energy to serve thee, +do not madden my brain, and palsy my arm. This old man--the poor +maid--Sibyll--Warner,--speak, my liege--only tell me they are safe; +promise me they shall go free, and I swear to obey thee in all else! I +will thank thee in the battlefield!” + +“Thou art mad, Hastings!” said the king, in great astonishment. “Hush!” + and he glanced significantly at a person who stood before several +heaps of gold, ranged upon a table in the recess of the room. “See,” + he whispered, “yonder is the goldsmith, who hath brought me a loan from +himself and his fellows! Pretty tales for the city thy folly will send +abroad!” + +But before Hastings could vent his impatient answer, this person, +to Edward’s still greater surprise, had advanced from his place, and +forgetting all ceremony, had seized Hastings by the hem of his surcoat, +exclaiming,-- + +“My lord, my lord, what new horror is this? Sibyll!--methought she was +worthless, and had fled to thee!” + +“Ten thousand devils!” shouted the king, “am I ever to be tormented by +that damnable wizard and his witch child? And is it, Sir Peer and Sir +Goldsmith, in your king’s closet that ye come, the very eve before he +marches to battle, to speer and glower at each other like two madmen as +ye are?” + +Neither peer nor goldsmith gave way, till the courtier, naturally +recovering himself the first, fell on his knee; and said, with firm +though profound respect: “Sire, if poor William Hastings has ever +merited from the king one kindly thought, one generous word, forgive +now whatever may displease thee in his passion or his suit, and tell +him what prison contains those whom it would forever dishonour his +knighthood to know punished and endangered but for his offence.” + +“My lord,” answered the king, softened but still surprised, “think you +seriously that I, who but reluctantly in this lovely month leave my +green lawns of Shene to save a crown, could have been vexing my brain by +stratagems to seize a lass, whom I swear by Saint George I do not envy +thee in the least? If that does not suffice, incredulous dullard, why +then take my kingly word, never before passed for so slight an occasion, +that I know nothing whatsoever of thy damsel’s whereabout nor her +pestilent father’s,--where they abode of late, where they now be; and, +what is more, if any man has usurped his king’s right to imprison +the king’s subjects, find him out, and name his punishment. Art thou +convinced?” + +“I am, my liege,” said Hastings. + +“But--” began the goldsmith. + +“Holloa, you, too, sir! This is too much! We have condescended to answer +the man who arms three thousand retainers--” + +“And I, please your Highness, bring you the gold to pay them,” said the +trader, bluntly. + +The king bit his lip, and then burst into his usual merry laugh. + +“Thou art in the right, Master Alwyn. Finish counting the pieces, +and then go and consult with my chamberlain,--he must off with the +cock-crow; but, since ye seem to understand each other, he shall make +thee his lieutenant of search, and I will sign any order he pleases +for the recovery of the lost wisdom and the stolen beauty. Go and calm +thyself, Hastings.” + +“I will attend you presently, my lord,” said Alwyn, aside, “in your own +apartment.” + +“Do so,” said Hastings; and, grateful for the king’s consideration, he +sought his rooms. There, indeed, Alwyn soon joined him, and learned from +the nobleman what filled him at once with joy and terror. Knowing that +Warner and Sibyll had left the Tower, he had surmised that the girl’s +virtue had at last succumbed; and it delighted him to hear from Lord +Hastings, whose word to men was never questionable, the solemn +assurance of her unstained chastity. But he trembled at this mysterious +disappearance, and knew not to whom to impute the snare, till the +penetration of Hastings suddenly alighted near, at least, to the clew. +“The Duchess of Bedford,” said he, “ever increasing in superstition +as danger increases, may have desired to refind so great a scholar and +reputed an astrologer and magician; if so, all is safe. On the other +hand, her favourite, the friar, ever bore a jealous grudge to poor Adam, +and may have sought to abstract him from her grace’s search; here there +may be molestation to Adam, but surely no danger to Sibyll. Hark ye, +Alwyn, thou lovest the maid more worthily, and--” Hastings stopped +short; for such is infirm human nature, that, though he had mentally +resigned Sibyll forever, he could not yet calmly face the thought of +resigning her to a rival. “Thou lovest her,” he renewed, more coldly, +“and to thee, therefore, I may safely trust the search which time and +circumstance and a soldier’s duty forbid to me. And believe--oh, believe +that I say not this from a passion which may move thy jealousy, but +rather with a brother’s holy love. If thou canst but see her safe, and +lodged where no danger nor wrong can find her, thou hast no friend in +the wide world whose service through life thou mayst command like mine.” + +“My lord,” said Alwyn, dryly, “I want no friends! Young as I am, I have +lived long enough to see that friends follow fortune, but never make it! +I will find this poor maid and her honoured father, if I spend my last +groat on the search. Get me but such an order from the king as may place +the law at my control, and awe even her grace of Bedford,--and I promise +the rest!” + +Hastings, much relieved, deigned to press the goldsmith’s reluctant +hand; and, leaving him alone for a few minutes, returned with a +warrant from the king, which seemed to Alwyn sufficiently precise and +authoritative. The goldsmith then departed, and first he sought the +friar, but found him not at home. Bungey had taken with him, as was +his wont, the keys of his mysterious apartment. Alwyn then hastened +elsewhere, to secure those experienced in such a search, and to head +it in person. At the Tower, the evening was passed in bustle and +excitement,--the last preparations for departure. The queen, who was +then far advanced towards her confinement, was, as we before said, to +remain at the Tower, which was now strongly manned. Roused from her +wonted apathy by the imminent dangers that awaited Edward, the night +was passed by her in tears and prayers, by him in the sound sleep of +confident valour. The next morning departed for the North the several +leaders,--Gloucester, Rivers, Hastings, and the king. + + + + +CHAPTER VII. THE LANDING OF LORD WARWICK, AND THE EVENTS THAT ENSUE +THEREON. + +And Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy, “prepared such a greate navie +as lightly hath not been seene before gathered in manner of all nations, +which armie laie at the mouth of the Seyne ready to fight with the Earl +of Warwick, when he should set out of his harborowe.” [Hall, p. 282, ed. +1809.] + +But the winds fought for the Avenger. In the night came “a terrible +tempest,” which scattered the duke’s ships “one from another, so that +two of them were not in compagnie together in one place;” and when the +tempest had done its work, it passed away; and the gales were fair, +and the heaven was clear, when, the next day, the earl “halsed up the +sayles,” and came in sight of Dartmouth. + +It was not with an army of foreign hirelings that Lord Warwick set forth +on his mighty enterprise. Scanty indeed were the troops he brought from +France,--for he had learned from England that “men so much daily and +hourely desired and wished so sore his arrival and return, that almost +all men were in harness, looking for his landyng.” [The popular feeling +in favour of the earl is described by Hall, with somewhat more eloquence +and vigour than are common with that homely chronicler: “The absence of +the Earle of Warwick made the common people daily more and more to long +and bee desirous to have the sight of him, and presently to behold his +personage. For they judged that the sunne was clerely taken from the +world when hee was absent. In such high estimation amongst the people +was his name, that neither no one manne they had in so much honour, +neither no one persone they so much praised, or to the clouds so highly +extolled. What shall I say? His only name sounded in every song, in the +mouth of the common people, and his persone [effigies] was represented +with great reverence when publique plaies or open triumphes should bee +skewed or set furthe abrode in the stretes,” etc. This lively passage, +if not too highly coloured, serves to show us the rude saturnalian kind +of liberty that existed, even under a king so vindictive as Edward IV. +Though an individual might be banged for the jest that he would make his +son heir to the crown (namely, the grocer’s shop, which bore that sign), +yet no tyranny could deal with the sentiment of the masses. In our own +day it would be less safe than in that to make public exhibition “in +plaies and triumphes” of sympathy with a man attainted as a traitor, and +in open rebellion to the crown.] As his ships neared the coast, and the +banner of the Ragged Staff, worked in gold, shone in the sun, the shores +swarmed with armed crowds, not to resist but to welcome. From cliff to +cliff, wide and far, blazed rejoicing bonfires; and from cliff to cliff, +wide and far, burst the shout, when, first of all his men, bareheaded, +but, save the burgonet, in complete mail, the popular hero leaped to +shore. + +“When the earl had taken land, he made a proclamation, in the name of +King Henry VI., upon high paynes commanding and charging all men apt or +able to bear armour, to prepare themselves to fight against Edward, Duke +of York, who had untruly usurped the croune and dignity of this realm.” + [Hall, p. 82.] + +And where was Edward? Afar, following the forces of Fitzhugh and +Robin of Redesdale, who by artful retreat drew him farther and farther +northward, and left all the other quarters of the kingdom free to send +their thousands to the banners of Lancaster and Warwick. And even as the +news of the earl’s landing reached the king, it spread also through all +the towns of the North; and all the towns of the North were in “a great +rore, and made fires, and sang songs, crying, ‘King Henry! King Henry! a +Warwicke! a Warwicke!’” But his warlike and presumptuous spirit forsook +not the chief of that bloody and fatal race,--the line of the English +Pelops,--“bespattered with kindred gore.” [Aeschylus: Agamemnon] A +messenger from Burgundy was in his tent when the news reached him. “Back +to the duke!” cried Edward; “tell him to recollect his navy, guard the +sea, scour the streams, that the earl shall not escape, nor return to +France; for the doings in England, let me alone! I have ability and +puissance to overcome all enemies and rebels in mine own realm.” [Hall, +p. 283.] + +And therewith he raised his camp, abandoned the pursuit of Fitzhugh, +summoned Montagu to join him (it being now safer to hold the marquis +near him, and near the axe, if his loyalty became suspected), and +marched on to meet the earl. Nor did the earl tarry from the encounter. +His army, swelling as he passed, and as men read his proclamations to +reform all grievances and right all wrongs, he pressed on to meet the +king, while fast and fast upon Edward’s rear came the troops of Fitzhugh +and Hilyard, no longer flying but pursuing. The king was the more +anxious to come up to Warwick, inasmuch as he relied greatly upon the +treachery of Clarence, either secretly to betray or openly to desert the +earl. And he knew that if he did the latter on the eve of a battle, it +could not fail morally to weaken Warwick, and dishearten his army by +fear that desertion should prove, as it ever does, the most contagious +disease that can afflict a camp. It is probable, however, that the +enthusiasm which had surrounded the earl with volunteers so numerous had +far exceeded the anticipations of the inexperienced Clarence, and would +have forbid him that opportunity of betraying the earl. However this be, +the rival armies drew nearer and nearer. The king halted in his rapid +march at a small village, and took up his quarters in a fortified house, +to which there was no access but by a single bridge. [Sharon Turner, +Comines.] Edward himself retired for a short time to his couch, for he +had need of all his strength in the battle he foresaw; but scarce had he +closed his eyes, when Alexander Carlile [Hearne: Fragment], the serjeant +of the royal minstrels, followed by Hastings and Rivers (their jealousy +laid at rest for a time in the sense of their king’s danger), rushed +into his room. + +“Arm, sire, arm!--Lord Montagu has thrown off the mask, and rides +through thy troops, shouting ‘Long live King Henry!’” + +“Ah, traitor!” cried the king, leaping from his bed. “From Warwick hate +was my due, but not from Montagu! Rivers, help to buckle on my mail. +Hastings, post my body-guard at the bridge. We will sell our lives +dear.” + +Hastings vanished. Edward had scarcely hurried on his helm, cuirass, and +greaves, when Gloucester entered, calm in the midst of peril. + +“Your enemies are marching to seize you, brother. Hark! behind you rings +the cry, ‘A Fitzhugh! a Robin! death to the tyrant!’ Hark! in front, ‘A +Montagu! a Warwick! Long live King Henry!’ I come to redeem my word,--to +share your exile or your death. Choose either while there is yet time. +Thy choice is mine!” + +And while he spoke, behind, before, came the various cries nearer and +nearer. The lion of March was in the toils. + +“Now, my two-handed sword!” said Edward. “Gloucester, in this weapon +learn my choice!” + +But now all the principal barons and captains, still true to the king +whose crown was already lost, flocked in a body to the chamber. They +fell on their knees, and with tears implored him to save himself for a +happier day. + +“There is yet time to escape,” said D’Eyncourt, “to pass the bridge, to +gain the seaport! Think not that a soldier’s death will be left thee. +Numbers will suffice to encumber thine arm, to seize thy person. Live +not to be Warwick’s prisoner,--shown as a wild beast in its cage to the +hooting crowd!” + +“If not on thyself,” exclaimed Rivers, “have pity on these loyal +gentlemen, and for the sake of their lives preserve thine own. What is +flight? Warwick fled!” + +“True,--and returned!” added Gloucester. “You are right, my lords. Come, +sire, we must fly. Our rights fly not with us, but shall fight for us in +absence!” + +The calm WILL of this strange and terrible boy had its effect upon +Edward. He suffered his brother to lead him from the chamber, grinding +his teeth in impotent rage. He mounted his horse, while Rivers held +the stirrup, and with some six or seven knights and earls rode to the +bridge, already occupied by Hastings and a small but determined guard. + +“Come, Hastings,” said the king, with a ghastly smile,--“they tell us we +must fly!” + +“True, sire, haste, haste! I stay but to deceive the enemy by feigning +to defend the pass, and to counsel, as I best may, the faithful soldiers +we leave behind.” + +“Brave Hastings!” said Gloucester, pressing his hand, “you do well, and +I envy you the glory of this post. Come, sire.” + +“Ay, ay,” said the king, with a sudden and fierce cry, “we go,--but +at least slaughtering as we go. See! yon rascal troop! ride we through +their midst! Havock and revenge!” + +He set spurs to his steed, galloped over the bridge, and before his +companions could join him, dashed alone into the very centre of the +advanced guard sent to invest the fortress, and while they were yet +shouting, “Where is the tyrant, where is Edward?” + +“Here!” answered a voice of thunder,--“here, rebels and faytors, in your +ranks!” + +This sudden and appalling reply, even more than the sweep of the +gigantic sword, before which were riven sallet and mail as the woodman’s +axe rives the fagot, created amongst the enemy that singular panic, +which in those ages often scattered numbers before the arm and the name +of one. They recoiled in confusion and dismay. Many actually threw down +their arms and fled. Through a path broad and clear amidst the forest +of pikes, Gloucester and the captains followed the flashing track of the +king, over the corpses, headless or limbless, that he felled as he rode. + +Meanwhile, with a truer chivalry, Hastings, taking advantage of the +sortie which confused and delayed the enemy, summoned such of the loyal +as were left in the fortress, advised them, as the only chance of life, +to affect submission to Warwick; but when the time came, to remember +their old allegiance, [Sharon Turner, vol. iii. 280.] and promising that +he would not desert them, save with life, till their safety was pledged +by the foe, reclosed his visor, and rode back to the front of the +bridge. + +And now the king and his comrades had cut their way through all barrier, +but the enemy still wavered and lagged, till suddenly the cry of “Robin +of Redesdale!” was heard, and sword in hand, Hilyard, followed by a +troop of horse, dashed to the head of the besiegers, and, learning the +king’s escape, rode off in pursuit. His brief presence and sharp rebuke +reanimated the falterers, and in a few minutes they gained the bridge. + +“Halt, sirs,” cried Hastings; “I would offer capitulation to your +leader! Who is he?” + +A knight on horseback advanced from the rest. Hastings lowered the point +of his sword. + +“Sir, we yield this fortress to your hands upon one condition,--our men +yonder are willing to submit, and shout with you for Henry VI. Pledge +me your word that you and your soldiers spare their lives and do them no +wrong, and we depart.” + +“And if I pledge it not?” said the knight. + +“Then for every warrior who guards this bridge count ten dead men +amongst your ranks.” + +“Do your worst,--our bloods are up! We want life for life! revenge for +the subjects butchered by your tyrant chief! Charge! to the attack! +charge! pike and bill!” The knight spurred on, the Lancastrians +followed, and the knight reeled from his horse into the moat below, +felled by the sword of Hastings. + +For several minutes the pass was so gallantly defended that the strife +seemed uncertain, though fearfully unequal, when Lord Montagu himself, +hearing what had befallen, galloped to the spot, threw down his +truncheon, cried “Hold!” and the slaughter ceased. To this nobleman +Hastings repeated the terms he had proposed. + +“And,” said Montagu, turning with anger to the Lancastrians, who formed +a detachment of Fitzhugh’s force--“can Englishmen insist upon butchering +Englishmen? Rather thank we Lord Hastings that he would spare good King +Henry so many subjects’ lives! The terms are granted, my lord; and your +own life also, and those of your friends around you, vainly brave in a +wrong cause. Depart!” + +“Ah, Montagu,” said Hastings, touched, and in a whisper, “what pity that +so gallant a gentleman should leave a rebel’s blot upon his scutcheon!” + +“When chiefs and suzerains are false and perjured, Lord Hastings,” + answered Montagu, “to obey them is not loyalty, but serfdom; and revolt +is not disloyalty, but a freeman’s duty. One day thou mayst know that +truth, but too late.” [It was in the midst of his own conspiracy against +Richard of Gloucester that the head of Lord Hastings fell.] + +Hastings made no reply, waved his hand to his fellow-defenders of the +bridge, and, followed by them, went slowly and deliberately on, till +clear of the murmuring and sullen foe; then putting spurs to their +steeds, these faithful warriors rode fast to rejoin their king; overtook +Hilyard on the way, and after a fierce skirmish, a blow from Hastings +unhorsed and unhelmed the stalwart Robin, and left him so stunned as to +check further pursuit. They at last reached the king, and gaining, with +him and his party, the town of Lynn, happily found one English and two +Dutch vessels on the point of sailing. Without other raiment than the +mail they wore, without money, the men a few hours before hailed as +sovereign or as peers fled from their native land as outcasts +and paupers. New dangers beset them on the sea: the ships of the +Easterlings, at war both with France and England, bore down upon their +vessels. At the risk of drowning they ran ashore near Alcmaer. The large +ships of the Easterlings followed as far as the low water would permit, +“intendeing at the fludde to have obtained their prey.” [Hall.] In this +extremity, the lord of the province (Louis of Grauthuse) came aboard +their vessels, protected the fugitives from the Easterlings, +conducted them to the Hague, and apprised the Duke of Burgundy how his +brother-in-law had lost his throne. Then were verified Lord Warwick’s +predictions of the faith of Burgundy! The duke for whose alliance +Edward had dishonoured the man to whom he owed his crown, so feared the +victorious earl, that “he had rather have heard of King Edward’s death +than of his discomfiture;” [Hall, p. 279] and his first thought was to +send an embassy to the king-maker, praying the amity and alliance of the +restored dynasty. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII. WHAT BEFELL ADAM WARNER AND SIBYLL WHEN MADE SUBJECT TO +THE GREAT FRIAR BUNGEY. + +We must now return to the Tower of London,--not, indeed, to its lordly +halls and gilded chambers, but to the room of Friar Bungey. We must go +back somewhat in time; and on the day following the departure of the +king and his lords, conjure up in that strangely furnished apartment the +form of the burly friar, standing before the disorganized Eureka, with +Adam Warner by his side. + +Graul, as we have seen, had kept her word, and Sibyll and her father, +having fallen into the snare, were suddenly gagged, bound, led through +by-paths to a solitary hut, where a covered wagon was in waiting, and +finally, at nightfall, conducted to the Tower. The friar, whom his own +repute, jolly affability, and favour with the Duchess of Bedford made +a considerable person with the authorities of the place, had already +obtained from the deputy-governor an order to lodge two persons, whom +his zeal for the king sought to convict of necromantic practices +in favour of the rebellion, in the cells set apart for such unhappy +captives. Thither the prisoners were conducted. The friar did not object +to their allocation in contiguous cells; and the jailer deemed him +mighty kind and charitable, when he ordered that they might be well +served and fed till their examination. + +He did not venture, however, to summon his captives till the departure +of the king, when the Tower was in fact at the disposition of his +powerful patroness, and when he thought he might stretch his authority +as far as he pleased, unquestioned and unchid. + +Now, therefore, on the day succeeding Edward’s departure, Adam Warner +was brought from his cell, and led to the chamber where the triumphant +friar received him in majestic state. The moment Warner entered, he +caught sight of the chaos to which his Eureka was resolved, and uttering +a cry of mingled grief and joy, sprang forward to greet his profaned +treasure. The friar motioned away the jailer (whispering him to wait +without), and they were left alone. Bungey listened with curious and +puzzled attention to poor Adam’s broken interjections of lamentation and +anger, and at last, clapping him roughly on the back, said,-- + +“Thou knowest the secret of this magical and ugly device: but in thy +hands it leads only to ruin and perdition. Tell me that secret, and in +my hands it shall turn to honour and profit. Porkey verbey! I am a man +of few words. Do this, and thou shalt go free with thy daughter, and +I will protect thee, and give thee moneys, and my fatherly blessing; +refuse to do it, and thou shalt go from thy snug cell into a black +dungeon full of newts and rats, where thou shalt rot till thy nails are +like birds’ talons, and thy skin shrivelled up into mummy, and covered +with hair like Nebuchadnezzar!” + +“Miserable varlet! Give thee my secret, give thee my fame, my life! +Never! I scorn and spit at thy malice!” + +The friar’s face grew convulsed with rage. “Wretch!” he roared forth, +“darest thou unslip thy hound-like malignity upon great Bungey? Knowest +thou not that he could bid the walls open and close upon thee; that he +could set yon serpents to coil round thy limbs, and yon lizard to gnaw +out thine entrails? Despise not my mercy, and descend to plain sense. +What good didst thou ever reap from thy engine? Why shouldst thou lose +liberty--nay, life--if I will, for a thing that has cursed thee with +man’s horror and hate?” + +“Art thou Christian and friar to ask me why? Were not Christians +themselves hunted by wild beasts, and burned at the stake, and boiled +in the caldron for their belief? Knave, whatever is holiest men ever +persecute. Read thy Bible!” + +“Read the Bible!” exclaimed Bungey, in pious horror at such a +proposition. “Ah, blasphemer, now I have thee! Thou art a heretic and +Lollard. Hollo, there!” + +The friar stamped his foot, the door opened; but to his astonishment +and dismay appeared, not the grim jailer, but the Duchess of Bedford +herself, preceded by Nicholas Alwyn. “I told your Grace truly--see, +lady!” cried the goldsmith. “Vile impostor, where hast thou hidden this +wise man’s daughter?” + +The friar turned his dull, bead-like eyes in vacant consternation from +Nicholas to Adam, from Adam to the duchess. “Sir friar,” said Jacquetta, +mildly--for she wished to conciliate the rival seers--“what means this +over-zealous violation of law? Is it true, as Master Alwyn affirms, +that thou hast stolen away and seducted this venerable sage and his +daughter,--a maid I deemed worthy of a post in my own household?” + +“Daughter and lady,” said the friar, sullenly, “this ill faytor, I have +reason to know, has been practising spells for Lord Warwick and the +enemy. I did but summon him hither that my art might undo his charms; +and as for his daughter, it seemed more merciful to let her attend him +than to leave her alone and unfriended; specially,” added the friar with +a grin, “since the poor lord she hath witched is gone to the wars.” + +“It is true, then, wretch, that thou or thy caitiffs have dared to lay +hands on a maiden of birth and blood!” exclaimed Alwyn. “Tremble!--see, +here, the warrant signed by the king, offering a reward for thy +detection, empowering me to give thee up to the laws. By Saint Dunstan, +but for thy friar’s frock, thou shouldst hang!” + +“Tut, tut, Master Goldsmith,” said the duchess, haughtily, “lower +thy tone. This holy man is under my protection, and his fault was but +over-zeal. What were this sage’s devices and spells?” + +“Marry,” said the friar, “that is what your Grace just hindereth my +knowing. But he cannot deny that he is a pestilent astrologer, and +sends word to the rebels what hours are lucky or fatal for battle and +assault.” + +“Ha!” said the duchess, “he is an astrologer! true, and came nearer to +the alchemist’s truth than any multiplier that ever served me! My own +astrologer is just dead,--why died he at such a time? Peace, peace! +be there peace between two so learned men. Forgive thy brother, Master +Warner!” Adam had hitherto disdained all participation in this dialogue. +In fact, he had returned to the Eureka, and was silently examining +if any loss of the vital parts had occurred in its melancholy +dismemberment. But now he turned round and said, “Lady, leave the lore +of the stars to their great Maker. I forgive this man, and thank your +Grace for your justice. I claim these poor fragments, and crave your +leave to suffer me to depart with my device and my child.” + +“No, no!” said the duchess, seizing his hand. “Hist! whatever Lord +Warwick paid thee, I will double. No time now for alchemy; but for the +horoscope, it is the veriest season. I name thee my special astrologer.” + +“Accept, accept,” whispered Alwyn; “for your daughter’s sake--for your +own--nay, for the Eureka’s!” + +Adam bowed his head, and groaned forth, “But I go not hence--no, not a +foot--unless this goes with me. Cruel wretch, how he hath deformed it!” + +“And now,” cried Alwyn, eagerly, “this wronged and unhappy maiden?” + +“Go! be it thine to release and bring her to our presence, good Alwyn,” + said the duchess; “she shall lodge with her father, and receive all +honour. Follow me, Master Warner.” + +No sooner, however, did the friar perceive that Alwyn had gone in search +of the jailer, than he arrested the steps of the duchess, and said, with +the air of a much-injured man,-- + +“May it please your Grace to remember that unless the greater magician +have all power and aid in thwarting the lesser, the lesser can prevail; +and therefore, if your Grace finds, when too late, that Lord Warwick’s +or Lord Fitzhugh’s arms prosper, that woe and disaster befall the king, +say not it was the fault of Friar Bungey! Such things may be. Nathless +I shall still sweat and watch and toil; and if, despite your unhappy +favour and encouragement to this hostile sorcerer, the king should beat +his enemies, why, then, Friar Bungey is not so powerless as your +Grace holds him. I have said--Porkey verbey!--Figilabo et conabo--et +perspirabo--et hungerabo--pro vos et vestros, Amen!” + +The duchess was struck by this eloquent appeal; but more and more +convinced of the dread science of Adam by the evident apprehensions +of the redoubted Bungey, and firmly persuaded that she could bribe or +induce the former to turn a science that would otherwise be hostile into +salutary account, she contented herself with a few words of conciliation +and compliment, and summoning the attendants who had followed her, +bade them take up the various members of the Eureka (for Adam clearly +demonstrated that he would not depart without them) and conducted the +philosopher to a lofty chamber, fitted up for the defunct astrologer. + +Hither, in a short time, Alwyn had the happiness of leading Sibyll, +and witnessing the delighted reunion of the child and father. And then, +after he had learned the brief details of their abduction, he related +how, baffled in all attempt to trace their clew, he had convinced +himself that either the duchess or Bungey was the author of the snare, +returned to the Tower, shown the king’s warrant, learned that an old +man and a young female had indeed been admitted into the fortress, and +hurried at once to the duchess, who, surprised at his narration and +complaint, and anxious to regain the services of Warner, had accompanied +him at once to the friar. + +“And though,” added the goldsmith, “I could indeed procure you lodgings +more welcome to ye elsewhere, yet it is well to win the friendship of +the duchess, and royalty is ever an ill foe. How came ye to quit the +palace?” + +Sibyll changed countenance, and her father answered gravely, “We +incurred the king’s displeasure, and the excuse was the popular hatred +of me and the Eureka.” + +“Heaven made the people, and the devil makes three-fourths of what is +popular!” bluntly said the man of the middle class, ever against both +extremes. + +“And how,” asked Sibyll, “how, honoured and true friend, didst thou +obtain the king’s warrant, and learn the snare into which we had +fallen?” + +This time it was Alwyn who changed countenance. He mused a moment, +and then frankly answering, “Thou must thank Lord Hastings,” gave the +explanation already known to the reader. + +But the grateful tears this relation called forth from Sibyll, her +clasped hands, her evident emotion of delight and love, so pained poor +Alwyn, that he rose abruptly and took his leave. + +And now the Eureka was a luxury as peremptorily forbid to the astrologer +as it had been to the alchemist! Again the true science was despised, +and the false cultivated and honoured. Condemned to calculations which +no man (however wise) in that age held altogether delusive, and which +yet Adam Warner studied with very qualified belief, it happened by some +of those coincidences, which have from time to time appeared to confirm +the credulous in judicial astrology, that Adam’s predictions became +fulfilled. The duchess was prepared for the first tidings that Edward’s +foes fled before him. She was next prepared for the very day in which +Warwick landed; and then her respect for the astrologer became strangely +mingled with suspicion and terror, when she found that he proceeded +to foretell but ominous and evil events; and when at last, still in +corroboration of the unhappily too faithful horoscope, came the news of +the king’s flight, and the earl’s march upon London, she fled to Friar +Bungey in dismay. And Friar Bungey said,-- + +“Did I not warn you, daughter? Had you suffered me to--” + +“True, true!” interrupted the duchess. “Now take, hang, rack, drown, or +burn your horrible rival, if you will, but undo the charm, and save us +from the earl!” + +The friar’s eyes twinkled, but to the first thought of spite and +vengeance succeeded another: if he who had made the famous waxen +effigies of the Earl of Warwick were now to be found guilty of some +atrocious and positive violence upon Master Adam Warner, might not the +earl be glad of so good an excuse to put an end to Himself? + +“Daughter,” said the friar, at that reflection, and shaking his head +mysteriously and sadly, “daughter, it is too late.” + +The duchess in great despair flew to the queen. Hitherto she had +concealed from her royal daughter the employment she had given to Adam; +for Elizabeth, who had herself suffered from the popular belief in +Jacquetta’s sorceries, had of late earnestly besought her to lay aside +all practices that could be called into question. Now, however, when +she confessed to the agitated and distracted queen the retaining of Adam +Warner, and his fatal predictions, Elizabeth, who, from discretion and +pride, had carefully hidden from her mother (too vehement to keep a +secret) that offence in the king, the memory of which had made Warner +peculiarly obnoxious to him, exclaimed,-- + +“Unhappy mother, thou hast employed the very man my fated husband would +the most carefully have banished from the palace, the very man who could +blast his name.” + +The duchess was aghast and thunderstricken. + +“If ever I forsake Friar Bungey again!” she muttered; “OH, THE GREAT +MAN!” + +But events which demand a detailed recital now rapidly pressing on, gave +the duchess not even the time to seek further explanation of Elizabeth’s +words, much less to determine the doubt that rose in her enlightened +mind whether Adam’s spells might not be yet unravelled by the timely +execution of the sorcerer! + + + + +CHAPTER IX. THE DELIBERATIONS OF MAYOR AND COUNCIL, WHILE LORD WARWICK +MARCHES UPON LONDON. + +It was a clear and bright day in the first week of October, 1470, when +the various scouts employed by the mayor and council of London came +back to the Guild, at which that worshipful corporation were +assembled,--their steeds blown and jaded, themselves panting and +breathless,--to announce the rapid march of the Earl of Warwick. The +lord mayor of that year, Richard Lee, grocer and citizen, sat in the +venerable hall in a huge leather chair, over which a pall of velvet had +been thrown in haste, clad in his robes of state, and surrounded by his +aldermen and the magnates of the city. To the personal love which the +greater part of the body bore to the young and courteous king was added +the terror which the corporation justly entertained of the Lancastrian +faction. They remembered the dreadful excesses which Margaret had +permitted to her army in the year 1461,--what time, to use the +expression of the old historian, “the wealth of London looked pale;” + and how grudgingly she had been restrained from condemning her revolted +metropolis to the horrors of sack and pillage. And the bearing of this +august representation of the trade and power of London was not, at the +first, unworthy of the high influence it had obtained. The agitation +and disorder of the hour had introduced into the assembly several of the +more active and accredited citizens not of right belonging to it; but +they sat, in silent discipline and order, on long benches beyond the +table crowded by the corporate officers. Foremost among these, and +remarkable by the firmness and intelligence of his countenance, and +the earnest self-possession with which he listened to his seniors, was +Nicholas Alwyn, summoned to the council from his great influence with +the apprentices and younger freemen of the city. + +As the last scout announced his news and was gravely dismissed, the lord +mayor rose; and being, perhaps, a better educated man than many of +the haughtiest barons, and having more at stake than most of them, +his manner and language had a dignity and earnestness which might have +reflected honour on the higher court of parliament. + +“Brethren and citizens,” he said, with the decided brevity of one who +felt it no time for many words, “in two hours we shall hear the clarions +of Lord Warwick at our gates; in two hours we shall be summoned to give +entrance to an army assembled in the name of King Henry. I have done my +duty,--I have manned the walls, I have marshalled what soldiers we can +command, I have sent to the deputy-governor of the Tower--” + +“And what answer gives he, my lord mayor?” interrupted Humfrey Heyford. + +“None to depend upon. He answers that Edward IV., in abdicating the +kingdom, has left him no power to resist; and that between force and +force, king and king, might makes right.” + +A deep breath, like a groan, went through the assembly. + +Up rose Master John Stokton, the mercer. He rose, trembling from limb to +limb. + +“Worshipful my lord mayor,” said he, “it seems to me that our first duty +is to look to our own selves!” + +Despite the gravity of the emergence, a laugh burst forth, and was at +once silenced at this frank avowal. + +“Yes,” continued the mercer, turning round, and striking the table with +his fist, in the action of a nervous man--“yes; for King Edward has set +us the example. A stout and a dauntless champion, whose whole youth has +been war, King Edward has fled from the kingdom. King Edward takes care +of himself,--it is our duty to do the same!” + +Strange though it may seem, this homely selfishness went at once through +the assembly like a flash of conviction. There was a burst of applause, +and, as it ceased, the sullen explosion of a bombard (or cannon) from +the city wall announced that the warder had caught the first glimpse of +the approaching army. + +Master Stokton started as if the shot had gone near to himself, and +dropped at once into his seat, ejaculating, “The Lord have mercy upon +us!” There was a pause of a moment, and then several of the corporation +rose simultaneously. The mayor, preserving his dignity, fixed on the +sheriff. + +“Few words, my lord, and I have done,” said Richard Gardyner--“there is +no fighting without men. The troops at the Tower are not to be counted +on. The populace are all with Lord Warwick, even though he brought the +devil at his back. If you hold out, look to rape and plunder before +sunset to-morrow. If ye yield, go forth in a body, and the earl is not +the man to suffer one Englishman to be injured in life or health who +once trusts to his good faith. My say is said.” + +“Worshipful my lord,” said a thin, cadaverous alderman, who rose +next, “this is a judgment of the Lord and His saints. The Lollards and +heretics have been too much suffered to run at large, and the wrath of +Heaven is upon us.” + +An impatient murmuring attested the unwillingness of the larger part +of the audience to listen further; but an approving buzz from the elder +citizens announced that the fanaticism was not without its favourers. +Thus stimulated and encouraged, the orator continued; and concluded an +harangue, interrupted more stormily than all that had preceded, by an +exhortation to leave the city to its fate, and to march in a body to +the New Prison, draw forth five suspected Lollards, and burn them at +Smithfield, in order to appease the Almighty and divert the tempest! + +This subject of controversy once started might have delayed the audience +till the ragged staves of the Warwickers drove them forth from their +hall, but for the sagacity and promptitude of the mayor. + +“Brethren,” he said, “it matters not to me whether the counsel suggested +be good or bad, in the main; but this have I heard,--there is small +safety in death-bed repentance. It is too late now to do, through fear +of the devil, what we omitted to do through zeal for the Church. The +sole question is, ‘Fight or make terms.’ Ye say we lack men; verily, +yes, while no leaders are found! Walworth, my predecessor, saved +London from Wat Tyler. Men were wanting then till the mayor and his +fellow-citizens marched forth to Mile End. It may be the same now. Agree +to fight, and we’ll try it. What say you, Nicholas Alwyn?--you know the +temper of our young men.” + +Thus called upon, Alwyn rose, and such was the good name he had already +acquired, that every murmur hushed into eager silence. + +“My lord mayor,” he said, “there is a proverb in my country which says, +‘Fish swim best that’s bred in the sea;’ which means, I take it, that +men do best what they are trained for! Lord Warwick and his men are +trained for fighting. Few of the fish about London Bridge are bred in +that sea. Cry, ‘London to the rescue!’--put on hauberk and helm, and +you will have crowns enough to crack around you. What follows?--Master +Stokton hath said it: pillage and rape for the city, gibbet and cord for +mayor and aldermen. Do I say this, loving the House of Lancaster? No; as +Heaven shall judge me, I think that the policy King Edward hath chosen, +and which costs him his crown to-day, ought to make the House of York +dear to burgess and trader. He hath sought to break up the iron rule of +the great barons,--and never peace to England till that be done. He has +failed; but for a day. He has yielded for a time; so must we. ‘There’s a +time to squint, and a time to look even.’ I advise that we march out +to the earl, that we make honourable terms for the city, that we take +advantage of one faction to gain what we have not gained with the +other; that we fight for our profit, not with swords, where we shall +be worsted, but in council and parliament, by speech and petition. +New power is ever gentle and douce. What matters to us York or +Lancaster?--all we want is good laws. Get the best we can from +Lancaster, and when King Edward returns, as return he will, let him bid +higher than Henry for our love. Worshipful my lords and brethren, while +barons and knaves go to loggerheads, honest men get their own. Time +grows under us like grass. York and Lancaster may pull down each +other,--and what is left? Why, three things that thrive in all +weather,--London, industry; and the people! We have fallen on a rough +time. Well, what says the proverb? ‘Boil stones in butter, and you may +sup the broth.’ I have done.” + +This characteristic harangue, which was fortunate enough to accord with +the selfishness of each one, and yet give the manly excuse of sound +sense and wise policy to all, was the more decisive in its effect, +inasmuch as the young Alwyn, from his own determined courage, and his +avowed distaste to the Lancaster faction, had been expected to favour +warlike counsels. The mayor himself, who was faithfully and personally +attached to Edward, with a deep sigh gave way to the feeling of the +assembly. And the resolution being once come to, Henry Lee was the first +to give it whatever advantage could be derived from prompt and speedy +action. + +“Go we forth at once,” said he,--“go, as becomes us, in our robes of +state, and with the insignia of the city. Never be it said that the +guardians of the city of London could neither defend with spirit, nor +make terms with honour. We give entrance to Lord Warwick. Well, then, it +must be our own free act. Come! Officers of our court, advance.” + +“Stay a bit, stay a bit,” whispered Stokton, digging sharp claws into +Alwyn’s arm; “let them go first,--a word with you, cunning Nick,--a +word.” + +Master Stokton, despite the tremor of his nerves, was a man of such +wealth and substance, that Alwyn might well take the request, thus +familiarly made, as a compliment not to be received discourteously; +moreover, he had his own reasons for hanging back from a procession +which his rank in the city did not require him to join. + +While, therefore, the mayor and the other dignitaries left the hall with +as much state and order as if not going to meet an invading army, but to +join a holiday festival, Nicholas and Stokton lingered behind. + +“Master Alwyn,” said Stokton, then, with a sly wink of his eye, “you +have this day done yourself great credit; you will rise, I have my eye +on you! I have a daughter, I have a daughter! Aha! a lad like you may +come to great things!” + +“I am much bounden to you, Master Stokton,” returned Alwyn, somewhat +abstractedly; “but what’s your will?” + +“My will!--hum, I say, Nicholas, what’s your advice? Quite right not to +go to blows. Odds costards! that mayor is a very tiger! But don’t you +think it would be wiser not to join this procession? Edward IV., an’ +he ever come back, has a long memory. He deals at my ware, too,--a +good customer at a mercer’s; and, Lord! how much money he owes the +city!--hum!--I would not seem ungrateful.” + +“But if you go not out with the rest, there be other mercers who will +have King Henry’s countenance and favour; and it is easy to see that a +new court will make vast consumption in mercery.” + +Master Stokton looked puzzled. + +“That were a hugeous pity, good Nicholas; and, certes, there is Wat +Smith, in Eastgate, who would cheat that good King Henry, poor man! +which were a shame to the city; but, on the other hand, the Yorkists +mostly pay on the nail (except King Edward, God save him!), and the +Lancastrians are as poor as mice. Moreover, King Henry is a meek man, +and does not avenge; King Edward, a hot and a stern man, and may call it +treason to go with the Red Rose! I wish I knew how to decide! I have a +daughter, an only daughter,--a buxom lass, and well dowered. I would I +had a sharp son-in-law to advise me!” + +“Master Stokton, in one word, then, he never goes far wrong who can run +with the hare and hunt with the hounds. Good-day to you, I have business +elsewhere.” + +So saying, Nicholas rather hastily shook off the mercer’s quivering +fingers, and hastened out of the hall. + +“Verily,” murmured the disconsolate Stokton, “run with the hare, +quotha!--that is, go with King Edward; but hunt with the hounds,--that +is, go with King Henry. Odds costards; it’s not so easily done by a +plain man not bred in the North. I’d best go--home, and do nothing!” + +With that, musing and bewildered, the poor man sneaked out, and was soon +lost amidst the murmuring, gathering, and swaying crowds, many amongst +which were as much perplexed as himself. + +In the mean while, with his cloak muffled carefully round his face, and +with a long, stealthy, gliding stride, Alwyn made his way through +the streets, gained the river, entered a boat in waiting for him, and +arrived at last at the palace of the Tower. + + + + +CHAPTER X. THE TRIUMPHAL ENTRY OF THE EARL--THE ROYAL CAPTIVE IN THE +TOWER--THE MEETING BETWEEN KING-MAKER AND KING. + +All in the chambers of the metropolitan fortress exhibited the greatest +confusion and dismay. The sentinels, it is true, were still at their +posts, men-at-arms at the outworks, the bombards were loaded, the flag +of Edward IV. still waved aloft from the battlements; but the officers +of the fortress and the captains of its soldiery were, some assembled +in the old hall, pale with fear, and wrangling with each other; some had +fled, none knew whither; some had gone avowedly and openly to join the +invading army. + +Through this tumultuous and feeble force, Nicholas Alwyn was conducted +by a single faithful servitor of the queen’s (by whom he was expected); +and one glance of his quick eye, as he passed along, convinced him of +the justice of his counsels. He arrived at last, by a long and winding +stair, at one of the loftiest chambers, in one of the loftiest towers, +usually appropriated to the subordinate officers of the household. + +And there, standing by the open casement, commanding some extended view +of the noisy and crowded scene beyond, both on stream and land, he saw +the queen of the fugitive monarch. By her side was the Lady Scrope, +her most familiar friend and confidant, her three infant children, +Elizabeth, Mary, and Cicely, grouped round her knees, playing with each +other, and unconscious of the terrors of the times; and apart from the +rest stood the Duchess of Bedford, conferring eagerly with Friar Bungey, +whom she had summoned in haste, to know if his art could not yet prevail +over enemies merely mortal. + +The servitor announced Alwyn, and retired; the queen turned--“What news, +Master Alwyn? Quick! What tidings from the lord mayor?” + +“Gracious my queen and lady,” said Alwyn, falling on his knees, “you +have but one course to pursue. Below yon casement lies your barge, to +the right see the round gray tower of Westminster Sanctuary; you have +time yet, and but time!” + +The old Duchess of Bedford turned her sharp, bright, gray eyes from the +pale and trembling friar to the goldsmith, but was silent. The queen +stood aghast. “Mean you,” she faltered, at last, “that the city of +London forsakes the king? Shame on the cravens!” + +“Not cravens, my lady and queen,” said Alwyn, rising. “He must have iron +nails that scratches a bear,--and the white bear above all. The king has +fled, the barons have fled, the soldiers have fled, the captains have +fled,--the citizens of London alone fly not; but there is nothing save +life and property left to guard.” + +“Is this thy boasted influence with the commons and youths of the city?” + +“My humble influence, may it please your Grace (I say it now openly, +and I will say it a year hence, when King Edward will hold his court in +these halls once again), my influence, such as it is, has been used +to save lives which resistance would waste in vain. Alack, alack! ‘No +gaping against an oven,’ gracious lady! Your barge is below. Again I say +there is yet time,--when the bell tolls the next hour that time will be +past!” + +“Then Jesu defend these children!” said Elizabeth, bending over her +infants, and weeping bitterly; “I will go!” + +“Hold!” said the Duchess of Bedford, “men desert us, but do the spirits +also forsake us?--Speak, friar! canst thou yet do aught for us?--and if +not, thinkest thou it is the right hour to yield and fly?” + +“Daughter,” said the friar, whose terror might have moved pity, “as I +said before, thank yourself. This Warner, this--in short, the lesser +magician hath been aided and cockered to countervail the greater, as I +forewarned. Fly! run! fly! Verily and indeed it is the prosperest of all +times to save ourselves; and the stars and the book and my familiar all +call out, ‘Off and away!’” + +“‘Fore heaven!” exclaimed Alwyn, who had hitherto been dumb with +astonishment at this singular interlude, “sith he who hath shipped the +devil must make the best of him, thou art for once an honest man and a +wise counsellor. Hark! the second gun! The earl is at the gates of the +city!” + +The queen lingered no longer; she caught her youngest child in her arms; +the Lady Scrope followed with the two others. “Come, follow, quick, +Master Alwyn,” said the duchess, who, now that she was compelled to +abandon the world of prediction and soothsaying, became thoroughly the +sagacious, plotting, ready woman of this life; “come, your face and name +will be of service to us, an’ we meet with obstruction.” + +Before Alwyn could reply, the door was thrown abruptly open, and +several of the officers of the household rushed pell-mell into the royal +presence. + +“Gracious queen!” cried many voices at once, each with a different +sentence of fear and warning, “fly! We cannot depend on the soldiers; +the populace are up,--they shout for King Henry; Dr. Godard is preaching +against you at St. Paul’s Cross; Sir Geoffrey Gates has come out of the +sanctuary, and with him all the miscreants and outlaws; the mayor is now +with the rebels! Fly! the sanctuary, the sanctuary!” + +“And who amongst you is of highest rank?” asked the duchess, calmly; +for Elizabeth, completely overwhelmed, seemed incapable of speech or +movement. + +“I, Giles de Malvoisin, knight banneret,” said an old warrior armed +cap-a-pie, who had fought in France under the hero Talbot. + +“Then, sir,” said the duchess, with majesty, “to your hands I confide +the eldest daughter of your king. Lead on!--we follow you. Elizabeth, +lean on me.” + +With this, supporting Elizabeth, and leading her second grandchild, the +duchess left the chamber. + +The friar followed amidst the crowd, for well he knew that if the +soldiers of Warwick once caught hold of him, he had fared about as +happily as the fox amidst the dogs; and Alwyn, forgotten in the general +confusion, hastened to Adam’s chamber. + +The old man, blessing any cause that induced his patroness to dispense +with his astrological labours and restored him to the care of his +Eureka, was calmly and quietly employed in repairing the mischief +effected by the bungling friar; and Sibyll, who at the first alarm +had flown to his retreat, joyfully hailed the entrance of the friendly +goldsmith. + +Alwyn was indeed perplexed what to advise, for the principal sanctuary +would, no doubt, be crowded by ruffians of the worst character; and +the better lodgments which that place, a little town in itself, +[the Sanctuary of Westminster was fortified] contained, be already +preoccupied by the Yorkists of rank; and the smaller sanctuaries were +still more liable to the same objection. Moreover, if Adam should be +recognized by any of the rabble that would meet them by the way, his +fate, by the summary malice of a mob, was certain. After all, the +Tower would be free from the populace; and as soon as, by a few rapid +questions, Alwyn learned from Sibyll that she had reason to hope her +father would find protection with Lord Warwick, and called to mind that +Marmaduke Nevile was necessarily in the earl’s train, he advised them to +remain quiet and concealed in their apartments, and promised to see +and provide for them the moment the Tower was yielded up to the new +government. + +The counsel suited both Sibyll and Warner. Indeed, the philosopher could +not very easily have been induced to separate himself again from the +beloved Eureka; and Sibyll was more occupied at that hour with +thoughts and prayers for the beloved Hastings,--afar, a wanderer and an +exile,--than with the turbulent events amidst which her lot was cast. + +In the storms of a revolution which convulsed a kingdom and hurled +to the dust a throne, Love saw but a single object, Science but its +tranquil toil. Beyond the realm of men lies ever with its joy and +sorrow, its vicissitude and change, the domain of the human heart. +In the revolution, the toy of the scholar was restored to him; in the +revolution, the maiden mourned her lover. In the movement of the mass, +each unit hath its separate passion. The blast that rocks the trees +shakes a different world in every leaf. + + + + +CHAPTER XI. THE TOWER IN COMMOTION. + +On quitting the Tower, Alwyn regained the boat, and took his way to the +city; and here, whatever credit that worthy and excellent personage may +lose in certain eyes, his historian is bound to confess that his anxiety +for Sibyll did not entirely distract his attention from interest or +ambition. To become the head of his class, to rise to the first honours +of his beloved city of London, had become to Nicholas Alwyn a hope and +aspiration which made as much a part of his being as glory to a warrior, +power to a king, a Eureka to a scholar; and, though more mechanically +than with any sordid calculation or self-seeking, Nicholas Alwyn +repaired to his ware in the Chepe. The streets, when he landed, already +presented a different appearance from the disorder and tumult noticeable +when he had before passed them. The citizens now had decided what course +to adopt; and though the shops, or rather booths, were carefully closed, +streamers of silk, cloth of arras and gold, were hung from the upper +casements; the balconies were crowded with holiday gazers; the fickle +populace (the same herd that had hooted the meek Henry when led to the +Tower) were now shouting, “A Warwick!” “A Clarence!” and pouring throng +after throng, to gaze upon the army, which, with the mayor and aldermen, +had already entered the city. Having seen to the security of his costly +goods, and praised his apprentices duly for their care of his interests, +and their abstinence from joining the crowd, Nicholas then repaired +to the upper story of his house, and set forth from his casements and +balcony the richest stuffs he possessed. However, there was his own +shrewd, sarcastic smile on his firm lips, as he said to his apprentices, +“When these are done with, lay them carefully by against Edward of +York’s re-entry.” + +Meanwhile, preceded by trumpets, drums, and heralds, the Earl of Warwick +and his royal son-in-law rode into the shouting city. Behind came the +litter of the Duchess of Clarence, attended by the Earl of Oxford, Lord +Fitzhugh, the Lords Stanley and Shrewsbury, Sir Robert de Lytton, and a +princely cortege of knights, squires, and nobles; while, file upon file, +rank upon rank, followed the long march of the unresisted armament. + +Warwick, clad in complete armour of Milan steel,--save the helmet, which +was borne behind him by his squire,--mounted on his own noble Saladin, +preserved upon a countenance so well suited to command the admiration of +a populace the same character as heretofore of manly majesty and lofty +frankness. But to a nearer and more searching gaze than was likely to be +bent upon him in such an hour, the dark, deep traces of care, anxiety, +and passion might have been detected in the lines which now thickly +intersected the forehead, once so smooth and furrowless; and his kingly +eye, not looking, as of old, right forward as he moved, cast unquiet, +searching glances about him and around, as he bowed his bare head from +side to side of the welcoming thousands. + +A far greater change, to outward appearance, was visible in the fair +young face of the Duke of Clarence. His complexion, usually sanguine and +blooming, like his elder brother’s, was now little less pale than that +of Richard. A sullen, moody, discontented expression, which not all +the heartiness of the greetings he received could dispel, contrasted +forcibly with the good-humoured, laughing recklessness, which had once +drawn a “God bless him!” from all on whom rested his light-blue joyous +eye. He was unarmed, save by a corselet richly embossed with gold. His +short manteline of crimson velvet, his hosen of white cloth laced with +gold, and his low horseman’s boots of Spanish leather curiously carved +and broidered, with long golden spurs; his plumed and jewelled cap; +his white charger with housings enriched with pearls and blazing with +cloth-of-gold; his broad collar of precious stones, with the order of +St. George; his general’s truncheon raised aloft, and his Plantagenet +banner borne by the herald over his royal head, caught the eyes of the +crowd only the more to rivet them on an aspect ill fitting the triumph +of a bloodless victory. At his left hand, where the breadth of the +streets permitted, rode Henry Lee, the mayor, uttering no word, unless +appealed to, and then answering but with chilling reverence and dry +monosyllables. + +A narrow winding in the streets, which left Warwick and Clarence alone +side by side, gave the former the opportunity he had desired. + +“How, prince and son,” he said in a hollow whisper, “is it with this +brow of care that thou saddenest our conquest, and enterest the capital +we gain without a blow?” + +“By Saint George!” answered Clarence, sullenly, and in the same tone, +“thinkest thou it chafes not the son of Richard of York, after such +toils and bloodshed, to minister to the dethronement of his kin and the +restoration of the foe of his race?” + +“Thou shouldst have thought of that before,” returned Warwick, but with +sadness and pity in the reproach. + +“Ay, before Edward of Lancaster was made my lord and brother,” retorted +Clarence, bitterly. + +“Hush!” said the earl, “and calm thy brow. Not thus didst thou speak at +Amboise; either thou wert then less frank or more generous. But regrets +are vain: we have raised the whirlwind, and must rule it.” + +And with that, in the action of a man who would escape his own thoughts, +Warwick made his black steed demivolte; and the crowd shouted again +the louder at the earl’s gallant horsemanship, and Clarence’s dazzling +collar of jewels. + +While thus the procession of the victors, the nominal object of all this +mighty and sudden revolution--of this stir and uproar, of these shining +arms and flaunting banners, of this heaven or hell in the deep passions +of men--still remained in his prison-chamber of the Tower, a true type +of the thing factions contend for; absent, insignificant, unheeded, +and, save by a few of the leaders and fanatical priests, absolutely +forgotten! + +To this solitary chamber we are now transported; yet solitary is a word +of doubtful propriety; for though the royal captive was alone, so far as +the human species make up a man’s companionship and solace, though the +faithful gentlemen, Manning, Bedle, and Allerton, had, on the news of +Warwick’s landing, been thrust from his chamber, and were now in the +ranks of his new and strange defenders, yet power and jealousy had not +left his captivity all forsaken. There was still the starling in its +cage, and the fat, asthmatic spaniel still wagged its tail at the sound +of its master’s voice, or the rustle of his long gown. And still from +the ivory crucifix gleamed the sad and holy face of the God, present +alway, and who, by faith and patience, linketh evermore grief to +joy,--but earth to heaven. + +The august prisoner had not been so utterly cut off from all knowledge +of the outer life as to be ignorant of some unwonted and important stir +in the fortress and the city. The squire who had brought him his morning +meal had been so agitated as to excite the captive’s attention, and had +then owned that the Earl of Warwick had proclaimed Henry king, and was +on his march to London. But neither the squire nor any of the officers +of the Tower dared release the illustrious captive, or even remove him +as yet to the state apartments vacated by Elizabeth. They knew not what +might be the pleasure of the stout earl or the Duke of Clarence, and +feared over-officiousness might be their worst crime. But naturally +imagining that Henry’s first command, at the new position of things, +might be for liberty, and perplexed whether to yield or refuse, they +absented themselves from his summons, and left the whole tower in which +he was placed actually deserted. + +From his casement the king could see, however, the commotion, and the +crowds upon the wharf and river, with the gleam of arms and banners; +and hear the sounds of “A Warwick!” “A Clarence!” “Long live good Henry +VI.!” A strange combination of names, which disturbed and amazed him +much! But by degrees the unwonted excitement of perplexity and surprise +settled back into the calm serenity of his most gentle mind and temper. +That trust in an all-directing Providence, to which he had schooled +himself, had (if we may so say with reverence) driven his beautiful soul +into the opposite error, so fatal to the affairs of life,--the error +that deadens and benumbs the energy of free will and the noble alertness +of active duty. Why strain and strive for the things of this world? God +would order all for the best. Alas! God hath placed us in this world, +each, from king to peasant, with nerves and hearts and blood and +passions to struggle with our kind; and, no matter how heavenly the +goal, to labour with the million in the race! + +“Forsooth,” murmured the king, as, his hands clasped behind him, +he paced slowly to and fro the floor, “this ill world seemeth but +a feather, blown about by the winds, and never to be at rest. Hark! +Warwick and King Henry,--the lion and the lamb! Alack, and we are fallen +on no Paradise, where such union were not a miracle! Foolish bird!”--and +with a pitying smile upon that face whose holy sweetness might have +disarmed a fiend, he paused before the cage and contemplated his +fellow-captive--“foolish bird, the uneasiness and turmoil without have +reached even to thee. Thou beatest thy wings against the wires, thou +turnest thy bright eyes to mine restlessly. Why? Pantest thou to be +free, silly one, that the hawk may swoop on its defenceless prey? +Better, perhaps, the cage for thee, and the prison for thy master. Well, +out if thou wilt! Here at least thou art safe!” and opening the cage, +the starling flew to his bosom, and nestled there, with its small clear +voice mimicking the human sound,-- + +“Poor Henry, poor Henry! Wicked men, poor Henry!” + +The king bowed his meek head over his favourite, and the fat spaniel, +jealous of the monopolized caress, came waddling towards its master, +with a fond whine, and looked up at him with eyes that expressed more of +faith and love than Edward of York, the ever wooing and ever wooed, had +read in the gaze of woman. + +With those companions, and with thoughts growing more and more composed +and rapt from all that had roused and vexed his interest in the +forenoon, Henry remained till the hour had long passed for his evening +meal. Surprised at last by a negligence which (to do his jailers +justice) had never before occurred, and finding no response to his +hand-bell, no attendant in the anteroom, the outer doors locked as +usual, but the sentinel’s tread in the court below hushed and still, +a cold thrill for a moment shot through his blood.--“Was he left for +hunger to do its silent work?” Slowly he bent his way from the outer +rooms back to his chamber; and, as he passed the casement again, he +heard, though far in the distance, through the dim air of the deepening +twilight, the cry of “Long live King Henry!” + +This devotion without, this neglect within, was a wondrous contrast! +Meanwhile the spaniel, with that instinct of fidelity which divines the +wants of the master, had moved snuffling and smelling round and round +the chambers, till it stopped and scratched at a cupboard in the +anteroom, and then with a joyful bark flew back to the king, and taking +the hem of his gown between its teeth, led him towards the spot it had +discovered; and there, in truth, a few of those small cakes, usually +served up for the night’s livery, had been carelessly left. They +sufficed for the day’s food, and the king, the dog, and the starling +shared them peacefully together. This done, Henry carefully replaced his +bird in its cage, bade the dog creep to the hearth and lie still; passed +on to his little oratory, with the relics of cross and saint strewed +around the solemn image,--and in prayer forgot the world! Meanwhile +darkness set in: the streets had grown deserted, save where in some +nooks and by-lanes gathered groups of the soldiery; but for the most +part the discipline in which Warwick held his army had dismissed those +stern loiterers to the various quarters provided for them, and little +remained to remind the peaceful citizens that a throne had been +uprooted, and a revolution consummated, that eventful day. + +It was at this time that a tall man, closely wrapped in his large +horseman’s cloak, passed alone through the streets and gained the Tower. +At the sound of his voice by the great gate, the sentinel started in +alarm; a few moments more, and all left to guard the fortress were +gathered round him. From these he singled out one of the squires who +usually attended Henry, and bade him light his steps to the king’s +chamber. As in that chamber Henry rose from his knees, he saw the broad +red light of a torch flickering under the chinks of the threshold; he +heard the slow tread of approaching footsteps; the spaniel uttered a low +growl, its eyes sparkling; the door opened, and the torch borne behind +by the squire, and raised aloft so that its glare threw a broad light +over the whole chamber, brought into full view the dark and haughty +countenance of the Earl of Warwick. + +The squire, at a gesture from the earl, lighted the sconces on the wall, +the tapers on the table, and quickly vanished. King-maker and king were +alone! At the first sight of Warwick, Henry had turned pale, and receded +a few paces, with one hand uplifted in adjuration or command, while with +the other he veiled his eyes,--whether that this startled movement +came from the weakness of bodily nerves, much shattered by sickness and +confinement, or from the sudden emotions called forth by the aspect of +one who had wrought him calamities so dire. But the craven’s terror in +the presence of a living foe was, with all his meekness, all his holy +abhorrence of wrath and warfare, as unknown to that royal heart as to +the high blood of his hero-sire. And so, after a brief pause, and a +thought that took the shape of prayer, not for safety from peril, but +for grace to forgive the past, Henry VI. advanced to Warwick, who +still stood dumb by the threshold, combating with his own mingled and +turbulent emotions of pride and shame, and said, in a voice majestic +even from its very mildness,-- + +“What tale of new woe and evil hath the Earl of Salisbury and Warwick +come to announce to the poor captive who was once a king?” + +“Forgive me! Forgiveness, Henry, my lord,--forgiveness!” exclaimed +Warwick, falling on his knee. The meek reproach; the touching words; the +mien and visage altered, since last beheld, from manhood into age; +the gray hairs and bended form of the king, went at once to that proud +heart; and as the earl bent over the wan, thin hand resigned to his +lips, a tear upon its surface out-sparkled all the jewels that it wore. + +“Yet no,” continued the earl (impatient, as proud men are, to hurry from +repentance to atonement, for the one is of humiliation and the other of +pride),--“yet no, my liege, not now do I crave thy pardon. No; but when +begirt, in the halls of thine ancestors, with the peers of England, +the victorious banner of Saint George waving above the throne which thy +servant hath rebuilt,--then, when the trumpets are sounding thy rights +without the answer of a foe; then, when from shore to shore of fair +England the shout of thy people echoes to the vault of heaven,--then +will Warwick kneel again to King Henry, and sue for the pardon he hath +not ignobly won! + +“Alack, sir,” said the king, with accents of mournful yet half-reproving +kindness, “it was not amidst trump and banners that the Son of God +set mankind the exemplar and pattern of charity to foes. When thy hand +struck the spurs from my heel, when thou didst parade me through the +booting crowd to this solitary cell, then, Warwick, I forgave thee, +and prayed to Heaven for pardon for thee, if thou didst wrong me,--for +myself, if a king’s fault had deserved a subject’s harshness. Rise, Sir +Earl; our God is a jealous God, and the attitude of worship is for Him +alone.” + +Warwick rose from his knee; and the king, perceiving and compassionating +the struggle which shook the strong man’s breast, laid his hand on the +earl’s shoulder, and said, “Peace be with thee!--thou hast done me no +real harm. I have been as happy in these walls as in the green parks of +Windsor; happier than in the halls of state or in the midst of wrangling +armies. What tidings now?” + +“My liege, is it possible that you know not that Edward is a fugitive +and a beggar, and that Heaven hath permitted me to avenge at once your +injuries and my own? This day, without a blow, I have regained your +city of London; its streets are manned with my army. From the council +of peers and warriors and prelates assembled at my house, I have stolen +hither alone and in secret, that I might be the first to hail your +Grace’s restoration to the throne of Henry V.” + +The king’s face so little changed at this intelligence, that its calm +sadness almost enraged the impetuous Warwick, and with difficulty he +restrained from giving utterance to the thought, “He is not worthy of a +throne who cares so little to possess it!” + +“Well-a-day!” said Henry, sighing, “Heaven then hath sore trials yet in +store for mine old age! Tray, Tray!” and stooping, he gently patted his +dog, who kept watch at his feet, still glaring suspiciously at Warwick, +“we are both too old for the chase now!--Will you be seated, my lord?” + +“Trust me,” said the earl, as he obeyed the command, having first set +chair and footstool for the king, who listened to him with downcast +eyes and his head drooping on his bosom--“trust me, your later days, +my liege, will be free from the storms of your youth. All chance of +Edward’s hostility is expired. Your alliance, though I seem boastful +so to speak,--your alliance with one in whom the people can confide for +some skill in war, and some more profound experience of the habits and +tempers of your subjects than your former councillors could possess, +will leave your honoured leisure free for the holy meditations it +affects; and your glory, as your safety, shall be the care of men who +can awe this rebellious world.” + +“Alliance!” said the king, who had caught but that one word; “of what +speakest thou, Sir Earl?” + +“These missives will explain all, my liege; this letter from my lady the +Queen Margaret, and this from your gracious son, the Prince of Wales.” + +“Edward! my Edward!” exclaimed the king, with a father’s burst of +emotion. “Thou hast seen him, then,--bears he his health well, is he of +cheer and heart?” + +“He is strong and fair, and full of promise, and brave as his +grandsire’s sword.” + +“And knows he--knows he well--that we all are the potter’s clay in the +hands of God?” + +“My liege,” said Warwick, embarrassed, “he has as much devotion as +befits a Christian knight and a goodly prince.” + +“Ah,” sighed the king, “ye men of arms have strange thoughts on these +matters;” and cutting the silk of the letters, he turned from the +warrior. Shading his face with his hand, the earl darted his keen glance +on the features of the king, as, drawing near to the table, the latter +read the communications which announced his new connection with his +ancient foe. + +But Henry was at first so affected by the sight of Margaret’s well-known +hand, that he thrice put down her letter and wiped the moisture from his +eyes. + +“My poor Margaret, how thou hast suffered!” he murmured; “these very +characters are less firm and bold than they were. Well, well!” and +at last he betook himself resolutely to the task. Once or twice his +countenance changed, and he uttered an exclamation of surprise. But the +proposition of a marriage between Prince Edward and the Lady Anne did +not revolt his forgiving mind, as it had the haughty and stern temper +of his consort. And when he had concluded his son’s epistle, full of the +ardour of his love and the spirit of his youth, the king passed his left +hand over his brow, and then extending his right to Warwick, said, in +accents which trembled with emotion, “Serve my son, since he is thine, +too; give peace to this distracted kingdom, repair my errors, press not +hard upon those who contend against us, and Jesu and His saints will +bless this bond!” + +The earl’s object, perhaps, in seeking a meeting with Henry so private +and unwitnessed, had been that none, not even his brother, might hearken +to the reproaches he anticipated to receive, or say hereafter that +he heard Warwick, returned as victor and avenger to his native +land, descend, in the hour of triumph, to extenuation and excuse. So +affronted, imperilled, or to use his own strong word, “so despaired,” + had he been in the former rule of Henry, that his intellect, which, +however vigorous in his calmer moods, was liable to be obscured and +dulled by his passions, had half confounded the gentle king with his +ferocious wife and stern councillors, and he had thought he never could +have humbled himself to the man, even so far as knighthood’s submission +to Margaret’s sex had allowed him to the woman. But the sweetness of +Henry’s manners and disposition, the saint-like dignity which he had +manifested throughout this painful interview, and the touching grace +and trustful generosity of his last words,--words which consummated the +earl’s large projects of ambition and revenge,--had that effect upon +Warwick which the preaching of some holy man, dwelling upon the patient +sanctity of the Saviour, had of old on a grim Crusader, all incapable +himself of practising such meek excellence, and yet all moved and +penetrated by its loveliness in another; and, like such Crusader, the +representation of all mildest and most forgiving singularly stirred up +in the warrior’s mind images precisely the reverse,--images of armed +valour and stern vindication, as if where the Cross was planted sprang +from the earth the standard and the war-horse! + +“Perish your foes! May war and storm scatter them as the chaff! My +liege, my royal master,” continued the earl, in a deep, low, faltering +voice, “why knew I not thy holy and princely heart before? Why stood so +many between Warwick’s devotion and a king so worthy to command it? +How poor, beside thy great-hearted fortitude and thy Christian heroism, +seems the savage valour of false Edward! Shame upon one who can betray +the trust thou hast placed in him! Never will I!--Never! I swear it! +No! though all England desert thee, I will stand alone with my breast of +mail before thy throne! Oh, would that my triumph had been less peaceful +and less bloodless! would that a hundred battlefields were yet left +to prove how deeply--deeply in his heart of hearts--Warwick feels the +forgiveness of his king!” + +“Not so, not so, not so! not battlefields, Warwick!” said Henry. “Ask +not to serve the king by shedding one subject’s blood.” + +“Your pious will be obeyed!” replied Warwick. “We will see if mercy can +effect in others what thy pardon effects in me. And now, my liege, no +longer must these walls confine thee. The chambers of the palace await +their sovereign. What ho, there!” and going to the door he threw it +open, and agreeably to the orders he had given below, all the officers +left in the fortress stood crowded together in the small anteroom, +bareheaded, with tapers in their hands, to conduct the monarch to the +halls of his conquered foe. + +At the sudden sight of the earl, these men, struck involuntarily and at +once by the grandeur of his person and his animated aspect, burst forth +with the rude retainer’s cry, “A Warwick! a Warwick!” + +“Silence!” thundered the earl’s deep voice. “Who names the subject in +the sovereign’s presence? Behold your king!” The men, abashed by the +reproof, bowed their heads and sank on their knees, as Warwick took a +taper from the table, to lead the way from the prison. + +Then Henry turned slowly, and gazed with a lingering eye upon the walls +which even sorrow and solitude had endeared. The little oratory, the +crucifix, the relics, the embers burning low on the hearth, the rude +time-piece,--all took to his thoughtful eye an almost human aspect of +melancholy and omen; and the bird, roused, whether by the glare of the +lights, or the recent shout of the men, opened its bright eyes, and +fluttering restlessly to and fro, shrilled out its favourite sentence, +“Poor Henry! poor Henry!--wicked men!--who would be a king?” + +“Thou hearest it, Warwick?” said Henry, shaking his head. + +“Could an eagle speak, it would have another cry than the starling,” + returned the earl, with a proud smile. + +“Why, look you,” said the king, once more releasing the bird, which +settled on his wrist, “the eagle had broken his heart in the narrow +cage, the eagle had been no comforter for a captive; it is these gentler +ones that love and soothe us best in our adversities. Tray, Tray, fawn +not now, sirrah, or I shall think thou hast been false in thy fondness +heretofore! Cousin, I attend you.” + +And with his bird on his wrist, his dog at his heels, Henry VI. followed +the earl to the illuminated hall of Edward, where the table was spread +for the royal repast, and where his old friends, Manning, Bedle, and +Allerton, stood weeping for joy; while from the gallery raised aloft, +the musicians gave forth the rough and stirring melody which had +gradually fallen out of usage, but which was once the Norman’s +national air, and which the warlike Margaret of Anjou had retaught her +minstrels,--“THE BATTLE HYMN OF ROLLO.” + + + + +BOOK XI. THE NEW POSITION OF THE KING-MAKER + + + + +CHAPTER I. WHEREIN MASTER ADAM WARNER IS NOTABLY COMMENDED AND +ADVANCED--AND GREATNESS SAYS TO WISDOM, “THY DESTINY BE MINE, AMEN.” + +The Chronicles inform us, that two or three days after the entrance +of Warwick and Clarence,--namely, on the 6th of October,--those two +leaders, accompanied by the Lords Shrewsbury, Stanley, and a numerous +and noble train, visited the Tower in formal state, and escorted +the king, robed in blue velvet, the crown on his head, to public +thanksgivings at St. Paul’s, and thence to the Bishop’s Palace, [not to +the Palace at Westminster, as some historians, preferring the French to +the English authorities, have asserted,--that palace was out of repair] +where he continued chiefly to reside. + +The proclamation that announced the change of dynasty was received with +apparent acquiescence through the length and breadth of the kingdom, +and the restoration of the Lancastrian line seemed yet the more firm and +solid by the magnanimous forbearance of Warwick and his councils. Not +one execution that could be termed the act of a private revenge stained +with blood the second reign of the peaceful Henry. One only head fell on +the scaffold,--that of the Earl of Worcester. [Lord Warwick himself did +not sit in judgment on Worcester. He was tried and condemned by Lord +Oxford. Though some old offences in his Irish government were alleged +against him, the cruelties which rendered him so odious were of recent +date. He had (as we before took occasion to relate) impaled twenty +persons after Warwick’s flight into France. The “Warkworth Chronicle” + says, “He was ever afterwardes greatly behated among the people for this +disordynate dethe that he used, contrary to the laws of the lande.”] +This solitary execution, which was regarded by all classes as a due +concession to justice, only yet more illustrated the general mildness of +the new rule. + +It was in the earliest days of this sudden restoration that Alwyn found +the occasion to serve his friends in the Tower. Warwick was eager to +conciliate all the citizens, who, whether frankly or grudgingly, had +supported his cause; and, amongst these, he was soon informed of the +part taken in the Guildhall by the rising goldsmith. He sent for Alwyn +to his house in Warwick-lane, and after complimenting him on his advance +in life and repute, since Nicholas had waited on him with baubles for +his embassy to France, he offered him the special rank of goldsmith to +the king. + +The wary, yet honest, trader paused a moment in some embarrassment +before he answered,-- + +“My good lord, you are noble and gracious eno’ to understand and forgive +me when I say that I have had, in the upstart of my fortunes, the +countenance of the late King Edward and his queen; and though the public +weal made me advise my fellow-citizens not to resist your entry, I would +not, at least, have it said that my desertion had benefited my private +fortunes.” + +Warwick coloured, and his lip curled. “Tush, man, assume not virtues +which do not exist amongst the sons of trade, nor, much I trow, amongst +the sons of Adam. I read thy mind. Thou thinkest it unsafe openly to +commit thyself to the new state. Fear not,--we are firm.” + +“Nay, my lord,” returned Alwyn, “it is not so. But there are many better +citizens than I, who remember that the Yorkists were ever friends to +commerce. And you will find that only by great tenderness to our crafts +you can win the heart of London, though you have passed its gates.” + +“I shall be just to all men,” answered the earl, dryly; “but if the +flat-caps are false, there are eno’ of bonnets of steel to watch over +the Red Rose!” + +“You are said, my lord,” returned Alwyn, bluntly, “to love the barons, +the knights, the gentry, the yeomen, and the peasants, but to despise +the traders,--I fear me that report in this is true.” + +“I love not the trader spirit, man,--the spirit that cheats, and +cringes, and haggles, and splits straws for pence, and roasts eggs +by other men’s blazing rafters. Edward of York, forsooth, was a great +trader! It was a sorry hour for England when such as ye, Nick Alwyn, +left your green villages for loom and booth. But thus far have I spoken +to you as a brave fellow, and of the north countree. I have no time to +waste on words. Wilt thou accept mine offer, or name another boon in +my power? The man who hath served me wrongs me,--till I have served him +again!” + +“My lord, yes; I will name such a boon,--safety, and, if you will, +some grace and honour, to a learned scholar now in the Tower, one Adam +Warner, whom--” + +“Now in the Tower! Adam Warner! And wanting a friend, I no more an +exile! That is my affair, not thine. Grace, honour,--ay, to his heart’s +content. And his noble daughter? Mort Dieu! she shall choose her +bridegroom among the best of England. Is she, too, in the fortress?” + +“Yes,” said Alwyn, briefly, not liking the last part of the earl’s +speech. + +The earl rang the bell on his table. “Send hither Sir Marmaduke Nevile.” + +Alwyn saw his former rival enter, and heard the earl commission him to +accompany, with a fitting train, his own litter to the Tower. “And +you, Alwyn, go with your foster-brother, and pray Master Warner and his +daughter to be my guests for their own pleasure. Come hither, my rude +Northman,--come. I see I shall have many secret foes in this city: wilt +not thou at least be Warwick’s open friend?” + +Alwyn found it hard to resist the charm of the earl’s manner and voice; +but, convinced in his own mind that the age was against Warwick, and +that commerce and London would be little advantaged by the earl’s rule, +the trading spirit prevailed in his breast. + +“Gracious my lord,” he said, bending his knee in no servile homage, “he +who befriends my order, commands me.” + +The proud noble bit his lip, and with a silent wave of his hand +dismissed the foster-brothers. + +“Thou art but a churl at best, Nick,” said Marmaduke, as the door closed +on the young men. “Many a baron would have sold his father’s hall for +such words from the earl’s lip.” + +“Let barons sell their free conduct for fair words. I keep myself +unshackled to join that cause which best fills the market and reforms +the law. But tell me, I pray thee, Sir Knight, what makes Warner and his +daughter so dear to your lord?” + +“What! know you not?--and has she not told you?--Ah, what was I about to +say?” + +“Can there be a secret between the earl and the scholar?” asked Alwyn, +in wonder. + +“If there be, it is our place to respect it,” returned the Nevile, +adjusting his manteline; “and now we must command the litter.” + +In spite of all the more urgent and harassing affairs that pressed upon +him, the earl found an early time to attend to his guests. His welcome +to Sibyll was more than courteous,--it was paternal. As she approached +him, timidly and with a downcast eye, he advanced, placed his hand upon +her head,-- + +“The Holy Mother ever have thee in her charge, child!--This is a +father’s kiss, young mistress,” added the earl, pressing his lips to her +forehead; “and in this kiss, remember that I pledge to thee care for thy +fortunes, honour for thy name, my heart to do thee service, my arm to +shield from wrong! Brave scholar, thy lot has become interwoven with my +own. Prosperous is now my destiny,--my destiny be thine! Amen!” + +He turned then to Warner, and without further reference to a past which +so galled his proud spirit, he made the scholar explain to him the +nature of his labours. In the mind of every man who has passed much of +his life in successful action, there is a certain, if we may so say, +untaught mathesis,--but especially among those who have been bred to the +art of war. A great soldier is a great mechanic, a great mathematician, +though he may know it not; and Warwick, therefore, better than many +a scholar comprehended the principle upon which Adam founded his +experiments. But though he caught also a glimpse of the vast results +which such experiments in themselves were calculated to effect, his +strong common-sense perceived yet more clearly that the time was not +ripe for such startling inventions. + +“My friend,” he said, “I comprehend thee passably. It is clear to me, +that if thou canst succeed in making the elements do the work of man +with equal precision, but with far greater force and rapidity, thou must +multiply eventually, and, by multiplying, cheapen, all the products of +industry; that thou must give to this country the market of the world; +and that thine would be the true alchemy that turneth all to gold.” + +“Mighty intellect, thou graspest the truth!” exclaimed Adam. + +“But,” pursued the earl, with a mixture of prejudice and judgment, +“grant thee success to the full, and thou wouldst turn this bold land +of yeomanry and manhood into one community of griping traders and sickly +artisans. Mort Dieu! we are over-commerced as it is,--the bow is already +deserted for the ell-measure. The town populations are ever the most +worthless in war. England is begirt with mailed foes; and if by one +process she were to accumulate treasure and lose soldiers, she would +but tempt invasion and emasculate defenders. Verily, I avise and implore +thee to turn thy wit and scholarship to a manlier occupation!” + +“My life knows no other object; kill my labour and thou destroyest me,” + said Adam, in a voice of gloomy despair. Alas, it seemed that, whatever +the changes of power, no change could better the hopes of science in +an age of iron! Warwick was moved. “Well,” he said, after a pause, “be +happy in thine own way. I will do my best at least to protect thee. +To-morrow resume thy labours; but this day, at least, thou must feast +with me.” + +And at his banquet that day, among the knights and barons, and the +abbots and the warriors, Adam sat on the dais near the earl, and Sibyll +at “the mess” of the ladies of the Duchess of Clarence. And ere the +feast broke up, Warwick thus addressed his company:-- + +“My friends, though I, and most of us reared in the lap of war, have +little other clerkship than sufficed our bold fathers before us, yet in +the free towns of Italy and the Rhine,--yea, and in France, under her +politic king,--we may see that a day is dawning wherein new knowledge +will teach many marvels to our wiser sons. Wherefore it is good that a +State should foster men who devote laborious nights and weary days to +the advancement of arts and letters, for the glory of our common land. A +worthy gentleman, now at this board, hath deeply meditated contrivances +which may make our English artisans excel the Flemish loons, who now +fatten upon our industry to the impoverishment of the realm. And, above +all, he also purposes to complete an invention which may render our +ship-craft the most notable in Europe. Of this I say no more at present; +but I commend our guest, Master Adam Warner, to your good service, +and pray you especially, worshipful sirs of the Church now present, to +shield his good name from that charge which most paineth and endangereth +honest men. For ye wot well that the commons, from ignorance, would +impute all to witchcraft that passeth their understanding. Not,” added +the earl, crossing himself, “that witchcraft does not horribly infect +the land, and hath been largely practised by Jacquetta of Bedford, and +her confederates, Bungey and others. But our cause needeth no such aid; +and all that Master Warner purposes is in behalf of the people, and in +conformity with Holy Church. So this wassail to his health and House.” + +This characteristic address being received with respect, though with +less applause than usually greeted the speeches of the great earl, +Warwick added, in a softer and more earnest tone, “And in the fair +demoiselle, his daughter, I pray you to acknowledge the dear friend of +my beloved lady and child, Anne, Princess of Wales; and for the sake of +her highness and in her name, I arrogate to myself a share with Master +Warner in this young donzell’s guardianship and charge. Know ye, my +gallant gentles and fair squires, that he who can succeed in achieving, +either by leal love or by bold deeds, as best befit a wooer, the grace +of my young ward, shall claim from my hands a knight’s fee, with as much +of my best land as a bull’s hide can cover; and when heaven shall grant +safe passage to the Princess Anne and her noble spouse, we will hold at +Smithfield a tourney in honor of Saint George and our ladies, wherein, +pardie, I myself would be sorely tempted to provoke my jealous countess, +and break a lance for the fame of the demoiselle whose fair face is +married to a noble heart.” + +That evening, in the galliard, many an admiring eye turned to Sibyll, +and many a young gallant, recalling the earl’s words, sighed to win +her grace. There had been a time when such honour and such homage would +have, indeed, been welcome; but now ONE saw them not, and they were +valueless. All that, in her earlier girlhood, Sibyll’s ambition had +coveted, when musing on the brilliant world, seemed now well-nigh +fulfilled,--her father protected by the first noble of the land, and +that not with the degrading condescension of the Duchess of Bedford, +but as Power alone should protect Genius, honoured while it honours; her +gentle birth recognized; her position elevated; fair fortunes smiling +after such rude trials; and all won without servility or abasement. +But her ambition having once exhausted itself in a diviner passion, all +excitement seemed poor and spiritless compared to the lonely waiting +at the humble farm for the voice and step of Hastings. Nay, but for her +father’s sake, she could almost have loathed the pleasure and the pomp, +and the admiration and the homage, which seemed to insult the reverses +of the wandering exile. + +The earl had designed to place Sibyll among Isabel’s ladies, but the +haughty air of the duchess chilled the poor girl; and pleading the +excuse that her father’s health required her constant attendance, she +prayed permission to rest with Warner wherever he might be lodged. Adam +himself, now that the Duchess of Bedford and Friar Bungey were no longer +in the Tower, entreated permission to return to the place where he had +worked the most successfully upon the beloved Eureka; and, as the Tower +seemed a safer residence than any private home could be, from popular +prejudice and assault, Warwick kindly offered apartments, far more +commodious than they had yet occupied, to be appropriated to the father +and daughter. Several attendants were assigned to them, and never was +man of letters or science more honoured now than the poor scholar who, +till then, had been so persecuted and despised. + +Who shall tell Adam’s serene delight? Alchemy and astrology at rest, +no imperious duchess, no hateful Bungey, his free mind left to its +congenial labours! And Sibyll, when they met, strove to wear a cheerful +brow, praying him only never to speak to her of Hastings. The good +old man, relapsing into his wonted mechanical existence, hoped she had +forgotten a girl’s evanescent fancy. + +But the peculiar distinction showed by the earl to Warner confirmed +the reports circulated by Bungey,--“that he was, indeed, a fearful +nigromancer, who had much helped the earl in his emprise.” The earl’s +address to his guests in behalf both of Warner and Sibyll, the high +state accorded to the student, reached even the Sanctuary; for the +fugitives there easily contrived to learn all the gossip of the city. +Judge of the effect the tale produced upon the envious Bungey! judge of +the representations it enabled him to make to the credulous duchess! It +was clear now to Jacquetta as the sun in noonday that Warwick rewarded +the evil-predicting astrologer for much dark and secret service, which +Bungey, had she listened to him, might have frustrated; and she promised +the friar that, if ever again she had the power, Warner and the Eureka +should be placed at his sole mercy and discretion. + +The friar himself, however, growing very weary of the dulness of the +Sanctuary, and covetous of the advantages enjoyed by Adam, began to +meditate acquiescence in the fashion of the day, and a transfer of his +allegiance to the party in power. Emboldened by the clemency of the +victors, learning that no rewards for his own apprehension had been +offered, hoping that the stout earl would forget or forgive the old +offence of the waxen effigies, and aware of the comparative security his +friar’s gown and cowl afforded him, he resolved one day to venture +forth from his retreat. He even flattered himself that he could cajole +Adam--whom he really believed the possessor of some high and weird +secrets, but whom otherwise he despised as a very weak creature--into +forgiving his past brutalities, and soliciting the earl to take him into +favour. + +At dusk, then, and by the aid of one of the subalterns of the Tower, +whom he had formerly made his friend, the friar got admittance +into Warner’s chamber. Now it so chanced that Adam, having his own +superstitions, had lately taken it into his head that all the various +disasters which had befallen the Eureka, together with all the little +blemishes and defects that yet marred its construction, were owing to +the want of the diamond bathed in the mystic moonbeams, which his German +authority had long so emphatically prescribed; and now that a monthly +stipend far exceeding his wants was at his disposal, and that it became +him to do all possible honour to the earl’s patronage, he resolved that +the diamond should be no longer absent from the operations it was to +influence. He obtained one of passable size and sparkle, exposed it the +due number of nights to the new moon, and had already prepared its place +in the Eureka, and was contemplating it with solemn joy, when Bungey +entered. + +“Mighty brother,” said the friar, bowing to the ground, “be merciful as +thou art strong! Verily thou hast proved thyself the magician, and I but +a poor wretch in comparison,--for lo! thou art rich and honoured, and I +poor and proscribed. Deign to forgive thine enemy, and take him as thy +slave by right of conquest. Oh, Cogsbones! oh, Gemini! what a jewel thou +hast got!” + +“Depart! thou disturbest me,” said Adam, oblivious, in his absorption, +of the exact reasons for his repugnance, but feeling indistinctly that +something very loathsome and hateful was at his elbow; and, as he spoke, +he fitted the diamond into its socket. + +“What! a jewel, a diamond--in the--in the--in the--MECHANICAL!” faltered +the friar, in profound astonishment, his mouth watering at the sight. +If the Eureka were to be envied before, how much more enviable now. +“If ever I get thee again, O ugly talisman,” he muttered to himself, “I +shall know where to look for something better than a pot to boil eggs.” + +“Depart, I say!” repeated Adam, turning round at last, and shuddering as +he now clearly recognized the friar, and recalled his malignity. “Darest +thou molest me still?” + +The friar abjectly fell on his knees, and, after a long exordium of +penitent excuses, entreated the scholar to intercede in his favour with +the earl. + +“I want not all thy honours and advancement, great Adam, I want only to +serve thee, trim thy furnace, and hand thee thy tools, and work out my +apprenticeship under thee, master. As for the earl, he will listen to +thee, I know, if thou tellest him that I had the trust of his foe, the +duchess; that I can give him all her closest secrets; that I--” + +“Avaunt! Thou art worse than I deemed thee, wretch! Cruel and ignorant I +knew thee,--and now mean and perfidious! I work with thee! I commend +to the earl a living disgrace to the name of scholar! Never! If thou +wantest bread and alms, those I can give, as a Christian gives to want; +but trust and honour, and learned repute and noble toils, those are not +for the impostor and the traitor. There, there, there!” And he ran to +the closet, took out a handful of small coins, thrust them into the +friar’s hands, and, pushing him to the door, called to the servants to +see his visitor to the gates. The friar turned round with a scowl. He +did not dare to utter a threat, but he vowed a vow in his soul, and went +his way. + +It chanced, some days after this, that Adam, in one of his musing +rambles about the precincts of the Tower, which (since it was not +then inhabited as a palace) was all free to his rare and desultory +wanderings, came by some workmen employed in repairing a bombard; and as +whatever was of mechanical art always woke his interest, he paused, and +pointed out to them a very simple improvement which would necessarily +tend to make the balls go farther and more direct to their object. The +principal workman, struck with his remarks, ran to one of the officers +of the Tower; the officer came to listen to the learned man, and then +went to the earl of Warwick to declare that Master Warner had the most +wonderful comprehension of military mechanism. The earl sent for Warner, +seized at once upon the very simple truth he suggested as to the proper +width of the bore, and holding him in higher esteem than he had ever +done before, placed some new cannon he was constructing under his +superintendence. As this care occupied but little of his time, Warner +was glad to show gratitude to the earl, looking upon the destructive +engines as mechanical contrivances, and wholly unconscious of the new +terror he gave to his name. + +Soon did the indignant and conscience-stricken Duchess of Bedford hear, +in the Sanctuary, that the fell wizard she had saved from the clutches +of Bungey was preparing the most dreadful, infallible, and murtherous +instruments of war against the possible return of her son-in-law! + +Leaving Adam to his dreams, and his toils, and his horrible reputation, +we return to the world upon the surface,--the Life of Action. + + + + +CHAPTER II. THE PROSPERITY OF THE OUTER SHOW--THE CARES OF THE INNER +MAN. + +The position of the king-maker was, to a superficial observer, such as +might gratify to the utmost the ambition and the pride of man. He had +driven from the land one of the most gorgeous princes and one of the +boldest warriors that ever sat upon a throne. He had changed a dynasty +without a blow. In the alliances of his daughters, whatever chanced, it +seemed certain that by one or the other his posterity would be the kings +of England. + +The easiness of his victory appeared to prove of itself that the hearts +of the people were with him; and the parliament that he hastened to +summon confirmed by law the revolution achieved by a bloodless sword. +[Lingard, Hume, etc.] + +Nor was there aught abroad which menaced disturbance to the peace at +home. Letters from the Countess of Warwick and Lady Anne announced their +triumphant entry at Paris, where Margaret of Anjou was received with +honours never before rendered but to a queen of France. + +A solemn embassy, meanwhile, was preparing to proceed from Paris to +London to congratulate Henry, and establish a permanent treaty of peace +and commerce, [Rymer, xi., 682-690] while Charles of Burgundy himself +(the only ally left to Edward) supplicated for the continuance of +amicable relations with England, stating that they were formed with the +country, not with any special person who might wear the crown; [Hume, +Comines] and forbade his subjects by proclamation to join any enterprise +for the recovery of his throne which Edward might attempt. + +The conduct of Warwick, whom the parliament had declared, conjointly +with Clarence, protector of the realm during the minority of the Prince +of Wales, was worthy of the triumph he had obtained. He exhibited now +a greater genius for government than he had yet displayed; for all +his passions were nerved to the utmost, to consummate his victory and +sharpen his faculties. He united mildness towards the defeated faction +with a firmness which repelled all attempt at insurrection. [Habington.] + +In contrast to the splendour that surrounded his daughter Anne, all +accounts spoke of the humiliation to which Charles subjected the exiled +king; and in the Sanctuary, amidst homicides and felons, the wife of the +earl’s defeated foe gave birth to a male child, baptized and christened +(says the chronicler) “as the son of a common man.” For the Avenger and +his children were regal authority and gorgeous pomp, for the fugitive +and his offspring were the bread of the exile, or the refuge of the +outlaw. + +But still the earl’s prosperity was hollow, the statue of brass stood on +limbs of clay. The position of a man with the name of subject, but the +authority of king, was an unpopular anomaly in England. In the principal +trading-towns had been long growing up that animosity towards the +aristocracy of which Henry VII. availed himself to raise a despotism +(and which, even in our day, causes the main disputes of faction); but +the recent revolution was one in which the towns had had no share. +It was a revolution made by the representative of the barons and his +followers. It was connected with no advancement of the middle class; +it seemed to the men of commerce but the violence of a turbulent and +disappointed nobility. The very name given to Warwick’s supporters was +unpopular in the towns. They were not called the Lancastrians, or the +friends of King Henry,--they were styled then, and still are so, by +the old chronicler, “The Lord’s Party.” Most of whatever was still +feudal--the haughtiest of the magnates, the rudest of the yeomanry, +the most warlike of the knights--gave to Warwick the sanction of their +allegiance; and this sanction was displeasing to the intelligence of the +towns. + +Classes in all times have a keen instinct of their own class-interests. +The revolution which the earl had effected was the triumph of +aristocracy; its natural results would tend to strengthen certainly the +moral, and probably the constitutional, power already possessed by that +martial order. The new parliament was their creature, Henry VI. was a +cipher, his son a boy with unknown character, and according to vulgar +scandal, of doubtful legitimacy, seemingly bound hand and foot in the +trammels of the archbaron’s mighty House; the earl himself had never +scrupled to evince a distaste to the change in society which was slowly +converting an agricultural into a trading population. + +It may be observed, too, that a middle class as rarely unites itself +with the idols of the populace as with the chiefs of a seignorie. The +brute attachment of the peasants and the mobs to the gorgeous and lavish +earl seemed to the burgesses the sign of a barbaric clanship, opposed +to that advance in civilization towards which they half unconsciously +struggled. + +And here we must rapidly glance at what, as far as a statesman may +foresee, would have been the probable result of Warwick’s ascendancy, +if durable and effectual. If attached, by prejudice and birth, to the +aristocracy, he was yet by reputation and habit attached also to the +popular party,--that party more popular than the middle class,--the +majority, the masses. His whole life had been one struggle against +despotism in the crown. Though far from entertaining such schemes as +in similar circumstances might have occurred to the deep sagacity of +an Italian patrician for the interest of his order, no doubt his policy +would have tended to this one aim,--the limitation of the monarchy by +the strength of an aristocracy endeared to the agricultural population, +owing to that population its own powers of defence, with the wants +and grievances of that population thoroughly familiar, and willing to +satisfy the one and redress the other: in short, the great baron would +have secured and promoted liberty according to the notions of a seigneur +and a Norman, by making the king but the first nobleman of the realm. +Had the policy lasted long enough to succeed, the subsequent despotism, +which changed a limited into an absolute monarchy under the Tudors, +would have been prevented, with all the sanguinary reaction in which +the Stuarts were the sufferers. The earl’s family, and his own “large +father-like heart,” had ever been opposed to religious persecution; and +timely toleration to the Lollards might have prevented the long-delayed +revenge of their posterity, the Puritans. Gradually, perhaps, might +the system he represented (of the whole consequences of which he was +unconscious) have changed monarchic into aristocratic government, +resting, however, upon broad and popular institutions; but no doubt, +also, the middle, or rather the commercial class, with all the blessings +that attend their power, would have risen much more slowly than +when made as they were already, partially under Edward IV., and more +systematically under Henry VIL, the instrument for destroying feudal +aristocracy, and thereby establishing for a long and fearful interval +the arbitrary rule of the single tyrant. Warwick’s dislike to the +commercial biases of Edward was, in fact, not a patrician prejudice +alone. It required no great sagacity to perceive that Edward had +designed to raise up a class that, though powerful when employed against +the barons, would long be impotent against the encroachments of the +crown; and the earl viewed that class not only as foes to his own order, +but as tools for the destruction of the ancient liberties. + +Without presuming to decide which policy, upon the whole, would have +been the happier for England,--the one that based a despotism on the +middle class, or the one that founded an aristocracy upon popular +affection,--it was clear to the more enlightened burgesses of the +great towns, that between Edward of York and the Earl of Warwick a vast +principle was at stake, and the commercial king seemed to them a more +natural ally than the feudal baron; and equally clear it is to us, now, +that the true spirit of the age fought for the false Edward, and against +the honest earl. + +Warwick did not, however, apprehend any serious results from the passive +distaste of the trading towns. His martial spirit led him to despise the +least martial part of the population. He knew that the towns would not +rise in arms so long as their charters were respected; and that slow, +undermining hostility which exists only in opinion, his intellect, so +vigorous in immediate dangers, was not far-sighted enough to comprehend. +More direct cause for apprehension would there have been to a suspicious +mind in the demeanour of the earl’s colleague in the Protectorate,--the +Duke of Clarence. It was obviously Warwick’s policy to satisfy this weak +but ambitious person. The duke was, as before agreed, declared heir +to the vast possessions of the House of York. He was invested with the +Lieutenancy of Ireland, but delayed his departure to his government till +the arrival of the Prince of Wales. The personal honours accorded him in +the mean while were those due to a sovereign; but still the duke’s brow +was moody, though, if the earl noticed it, Clarence rallied into seeming +cheerfulness, and reiterated pledges of faith and friendship. + +The manner of Isabel to her father was varying and uncertain: at one +time hard and cold; at another, as if in the reaction of secret remorse, +she would throw herself into his arms, and pray him, weepingly, to +forgive her wayward humours. But the curse of the earl’s position was +that which he had foreseen before quitting Amboise, and which, more or +less, attends upon those who from whatever cause suddenly desert the +party with which all their associations, whether of fame or friendship, +have been interwoven. His vengeance against one had comprehended many +still dear to him. He was not only separated from his old companions in +arms, but he had driven their most eminent into exile. He stood +alone amongst men whom the habits of an active life had indissolubly +connected, in his mind, with recollections of wrath and wrong. Amidst +that princely company which begirt him, he hailed no familiar face. +Even many of those who most detested Edward (or rather the Woodvilles) +recoiled from so startling a desertion to the Lancastrian foe. It was a +heavy blow to a heart already bruised and sore, when the fiery Raoul de +Fulke, who had so idolized Warwick, that, despite his own high lineage, +he had worn his badge upon his breast, sought him at the dead of night, +and thus said,-- + +“Lord of Salisbury and Warwick, I once offered to serve thee as a +vassal, if thou wouldst wrestle with lewd Edward for the crown which +only a manly brow should wear; and hadst thou now returned, as Henry +of Lancaster returned of old, to gripe the sceptre of the Norman with a +conqueror’s hand, I had been the first to cry, ‘Long live King Richard, +namesake and emulator of Coeur de Lion!’ But to place upon the throne +yon monk-puppet, and to call on brave hearts to worship a patterer of +aves and a counter of beads; to fix the succession of England in +the adulterous offspring of Margaret, the butcher-harlot [One of the +greatest obstacles to the cause of the Red Rose was the popular belief +that the young prince was not Henry’s son. Had that belief not been +widely spread and firmly maintained, the lords who arbitrated between +Henry VI. and Richard Duke of York, in October, 1460, could scarcely +have come to the resolution to set aside the Prince of Wales altogether, +to accord Henry the crown for his life, and declare the Duke of York his +heir. Ten years previously (in November, 1450), before the young +prince was born or thought of, and the proposition was really just and +reasonable, it was moved in the House of Commons to declare Richard Duke +of York next heir to Henry; which, at least, by birthright, he certainly +was; but the motion met with little favour and the mover was sent to +the Tower.]; to give the power of the realm to the men against whom thou +thyself hast often led me to strive with lance and battle-axe, is to +open a path which leads but to dishonour, and thither Raoul de Fulke +follows not even the steps of the Lord of Warwick. Interrupt me not! +speak not! As thou to Edward, so I now to thee, forswear allegiance, and +I bid thee farewell forever!” + +“I pardon thee,” answered Warwick; “and if ever thou art wronged as I +have been, thy heart will avenge me. Go!” But when this haughty visitor +was gone, the earl covered his face with his hands, and groaned aloud. +A defection perhaps even more severely felt came next. Katherine de +Bonville had been the earl’s favourite sister; he wrote to her at the +convent to which she had retired, praying her affectionately to come to +London, “and cheer his vexed spirit, and learn the true cause, not to +be told by letter, which had moved him to things once farthest from his +thought.” The messenger came back, the letter unopened; for Katherine +had left the convent, and fled into Burgundy, distrustful, as it seemed +to Warwick, of her own brother. The nature of this lion-hearted man was, +as we have seen, singularly kindly, frank, and affectionate; and now +in the most critical, the most anxious, the most tortured period of his +life, confidence and affection were forbidden to him. What had he not +given for one hour of the soothing company of his wife, the only being +in the world to whom his pride could have communicated the grief of his +heart, or the doubts of his conscience! Alas! never on earth should he +hear that soft voice again! Anne, too, the gentle, childlike Anne, was +afar; but she was happy,--a basker in the brief sunshine, and blind to +the darkening clouds. His elder child, with her changeful moods, added +but to his disquiet and unhappiness. Next to Edward, Warwick of all +the House of York had loved Clarence, though a closer and more domestic +intimacy had weakened the affection by lessening the esteem. But looking +further into the future, he now saw in this alliance the seeds of many +a rankling sorrow. The nearer Anne and her spouse to power and fame, +the more bitter the jealousy of Clarence and his wife. Thus, in the very +connections which seemed most to strengthen his House, lay all which +must destroy the hallowed unity and peace of family and home. + +The Archbishop of York had prudently taken no part whatever in the +measures that had changed the dynasty. He came now to reap the +fruits; did homage to Henry VI., received the Chancellor’s seals, and +recommenced intrigues for the Cardinal’s hat. But between the bold +warrior and the wily priest there could be but little of the endearment +of brotherly confidence and love. With Montagu alone could the earl +confer in cordiality and unreserve; and their similar position, and +certain points of agreement in their characters, now more clearly +brought out and manifest, served to make their friendship for each other +firmer and more tender, in the estrangement of all other ties, than ever +it had been before. But the marquis was soon compelled to depart from +London, to his post as warden of the northern marches; for Warwick had +not the rash presumption of Edward, and neglected no precaution against +the return of the dethroned king. + +So there, alone, in pomp and in power, vengeance consummated, ambition +gratified, but love denied; with an aching heart and a fearless front; +amidst old foes made prosperous, and old friends alienated and ruined, +stood the king-maker! and, day by day, the untimely streaks of gray +showed more and more amidst the raven curls of the strong man. + + + + +CHAPTER III. FURTHER VIEWS INTO THE HEART OF MAN, AND THE CONDITIONS OF +POWER. + +But woe to any man who is called to power with exaggerated expectations +of his ability to do good! Woe to the man whom the populace have +esteemed a popular champion, and who is suddenly made the guardian of +law! The Commons of England had not bewailed the exile of the good +earl simply for love of his groaning table and admiration of his huge +battle-axe,--it was not merely either in pity, or from fame, that his +“name had sounded in every song,” and that, to use the strong expression +of the chronicler, the people “judged that the sun was clearly taken +from the world when he was absent.” + +They knew him as one who had ever sought to correct the abuses of power, +to repair the wrongs of the poor; who even in war had forbidden his +knights to slay the common men. He was regarded, therefore, as a +reformer; and wonderful indeed were the things, proportioned to his +fame and his popularity, which he was expected to accomplish; and his +thorough knowledge of the English character, and experience of every +class,--especially the lowest as the highest,--conjoined with the vigour +of his robust understanding, unquestionably enabled him from the very +first to put a stop to the lawless violences which had disgraced the +rule of Edward. The infamous spoliations of the royal purveyors ceased; +the robber-like excesses of the ruder barons and gentry were severely +punished; the country felt that a strong hand held the reins of power. +But what is justice when men ask miracles? The peasant and mechanic were +astonished that wages were not doubled, that bread was not to be had for +asking, that the disparities of life remained the same,--the rich still +rich, the poor still poor. In the first days of the revolution, Sir +Geoffrey Gates, the freebooter, little comprehending the earl’s merciful +policy, and anxious naturally to turn a victory into its accustomed +fruit of rapine and pillage, placed himself at the head of an armed mob, +marched from Kent to the suburbs of London, and, joined by some of the +miscreants from the different Sanctuaries, burned and pillaged, ravished +and slew. The earl quelled this insurrection with spirit and ease; +[Hall, Habington] and great was the praise he received thereby. But +all-pervading is the sympathy the poor feel for the poor. And when even +the refuse of the populace once felt the sword of Warwick, some portion +of the popular enthusiasm must have silently deserted him. + +Robert Hilyard, who had borne so large a share in the restoration of the +Lancastrians, now fixed his home in the metropolis; and anxious as +ever to turn the current to the popular profit, he saw with rage and +disappointment that as yet no party but the nobles had really triumphed. +He had longed to achieve a revolution that might be called the People’s; +and he had abetted one that was called “the Lord’s doing.” The affection +he had felt for Warwick arose principally from his regarding him as an +instrument to prepare society for the more democratic changes he panted +to effect; and, lo! he himself had been the instrument to strengthen the +aristocracy. Society resettled after the storm, the noble retained his +armies, the demagogue had lost his mobs! Although through England were +scattered the principles which were ultimately to destroy feudalism, +to humble the fierce barons into silken lords, to reform the Church, +to ripen into a commonwealth through the representative system,--the +principles were but in the germ; and when Hilyard mingled with the +traders or the artisans of London, and sought to form a party which +might comprehend something of steady policy and definite object, he +found himself regarded as a visionary fanatic by some, as a dangerous +dare-devil by the rest. Strange to say, Warwick was the only man who +listened to him with attention; the man behind the age and the man +before the age ever have some inch of ground in common both desired to +increase liberty; both honestly and ardently loved the masses; but each +in the spirit of his order,--Warwick defended freedom as against the +throne, Hilyard as against the barons. Still, notwithstanding their +differences, each was so convinced of the integrity of the other,--that +it wanted only a foe in the field to unite them as before. The natural +ally of the popular baron was the leader of the populace. + +Some minor, but still serious, griefs added to the embarrassment of the +earl’s position. Margaret’s jealousy had bound him to defer all rewards +to lords and others, and encumbered with a provisional council all great +acts of government, all grants of offices, lands, or benefits. [Sharon +Turner] And who knows not the expectations of men after a successful +revolution? The royal exchequer was so empty that even the ordinary +household was suspended; [See Ellis: Original Letters from Harleian +Manuscripts, second series, vol. i., letter 42.] and as ready money was +then prodigiously scarce, the mighty revenues of Warwick barely sufficed +to pay the expenses of the expedition which, at his own cost, had +restored the Lancastrian line. Hard position, both to generosity and to +prudence, to put off and apologize to just claims and valiant service! + +With intense, wearying, tortured anxiety, did the earl await the coming +of Margaret and her son. The conditions imposed on him in their absence +crippled all his resources. Several even of the Lancastrian nobles held +aloof, while they saw no authority but Warwick’s. Above all, he relied +upon the effect that the young Prince of Wales’s presence, his beauty, +his graciousness, his frank spirit--mild as his fathers, bold as his +grandsire’s--would create upon all that inert and neutral mass of the +public, the affection of which, once gained, makes the solid strength +of a government. The very appearance of that prince would at once dispel +the slander on his birth. His resemblance to his heroic grandfather +would suffice to win him all the hearts by which, in absence, he was +regarded as a stranger, a dubious alien. How often did the earl groan +forth, “If the prince were but here, all were won!” Henry was worse than +a cipher,--he was an eternal embarrassment. His good intentions, his +scrupulous piety, made him ever ready to interfere. The Church had got +hold of him already, and prompted him to issue proclamations against +the disguised Lollards, which would have lost him at one stroke half his +subjects. This Warwick prevented, to the great discontent of the honest +prince. The moment required all the prestige that an imposing presence +and a splendid court could bestow. And Henry, glad of the poverty of his +exchequer, deemed it a sin to make a parade of earthly glory. “Heaven +will punish me again,” said he, meekly, “if, just delivered from a +dungeon, I gild my unworthy self with all the vanities of perishable +power.” + +There was not a department which the chill of this poor king’s virtue +did not somewhat benumb. The gay youths, who had revelled in the +alluring court of Edward IV., heard, with disdainful mockery, the grave +lectures of Henry on the length of their lovelocks and the beakers +of their shoes. The brave warriors presented to him for praise were +entertained with homilies on the guilt of war. Even poor Adam was +molested and invaded by Henry’s pious apprehensions that he was seeking, +by vain knowledge, to be superior to the will of Providence. + +Yet, albeit perpetually irritating and chafing the impetuous spirit of +the earl, the earl, strange to say, loved the king more and more. This +perfect innocence, this absence from guile and self-seeking, in the +midst of an age never excelled for fraud, falsehood, and selfish +simulation, moved Warwick’s admiration as well as pity. Whatever +contrasted Edward IV. had a charm for him. He schooled his hot temper, +and softened his deep voice, in that holy presence; and the intimate +persuasion of the hollowness of all worldly greatness, which worldly +greatness itself had forced upon the earl’s mind, made something +congenial between the meek saint and the fiery warrior. For the +hundredth time groaned Warwick, as he quitted Henry’s presence,-- + +“Would that my gallant son-in-law were come! His spirit will soon learn +how to govern; then Warwick may be needed no more! I am weary, sore +weary of the task of ruling men!” + +“Holy Saint Thomas!” bluntly exclaimed Marmaduke, to whom these sad +words were said,--“whenever you visit the king you come back--pardon me, +my lord--half unmanned. He would make a monk of you!” + +“Ah,” said Warwick, thoughtfully, “there have been greater marvels than +that. Our boldest fathers often died the meekest shavelings. An’ I had +ruled this realm as long as Henry,--nay, an’ this same life I lead now +were to continue two years, with its broil and fever,--I could well +conceive the sweetness of the cloister and repose. How sets the wind? +Against them still! against them still! I cannot bear this suspense!” + +The winds had ever seemed malignant to Margaret of Anjou, but never more +than now. So long a continuance of stormy and adverse weather was never +known in the memory of man; and we believe that it has scarcely its +parallel in history. + +The earl’s promise to restore King Henry was fulfilled in October. From +November to the following April, Margaret, with the young and royal +pair, and the Countess of Warwick, lay at the seaside, waiting for +a wind. [Fabyan, 502.] Thrice, in defiance of all warnings from the +mariners of Harfleur, did she put to sea, and thrice was she driven back +on the coast of Normandy, her ships much damaged. Her friends protested +that this malice of the elements was caused by sorcery, [Hall, Warkworth +Chronicle]--a belief which gained ground in England, exhilarated the +Duchess of Bedford, and gave new fame to Bungey, who arrogated all +the merit, and whose weather wisdom, indeed, had here borne out his +predictions. Many besought Margaret not to tempt Providence, not to +trust the sea; but the queen was firm to her purpose, and her son +laughed at omens,--yet still the vessels could only leave the harbour to +be driven back upon the land. + +Day after day the first question of Warwick, when the sun rose, was, +“How sets the wind?” Night after night, ere he retired to rest, “Ill +sets the wind!” sighed the earl. The gales that forbade the coming of +the royal party sped to the unwilling lingerers courier after courier, +envoy after envoy; and at length Warwick, unable to bear the sickening +suspense at distance, went himself to Dover [Hall], and from its white +cliffs looked, hour by hour, for the sails which were to bear “Lancaster +and its fortunes.” The actual watch grew more intolerable than the +distant expectation, and the earl sorrowfully departed to his castle +of Warwick, at which Isabel and Clarence then were. Alas! where the old +smile of home? + + + + +CHAPTER IV. THE RETURN OF EDWARD OF YORK. + +And the winds still blew, and the storm was on the tide, and Margaret +came not when, in the gusty month of March, the fishermen of the Humber +beheld a single ship, without flag or pennon, and sorely stripped and +rivelled by adverse blasts, gallantly struggling towards the shore. The +vessel was not of English build, and resembled in its bulk and fashion +those employed by the Easterlings in their trade, half merchantman, half +war-ship. + +The villagers of Ravenspur,--the creek of which the vessel now rapidly +made to,--imagining that it was some trading craft in distress, grouped +round the banks, and some put out their boats: But the vessel held on +its way, and, as the water was swelled by the tide, and unusually deep, +silently cast anchor close ashore, a quarter of a mile from the crowd. + +The first who leaped on land was a knight of lofty stature, and in +complete armour richly inlaid with gold arabesques. To him succeeded +another, also in mail, and, though well guilt and fair proportioned, of +less imposing presence. And then, one by one, the womb of the dark ship +gave forth a number of armed soldiers, infinitely larger than it could +have been supposed to contain, till the knight who first landed stood +the centre of a group of five hundred men. Then were lowered from the +vessel, barbed and caparisoned, some five score horses; and, finally, +the sailors and rowers, armed but with steel caps and short swords, came +on shore, till not a man was left on board. + +“Now praise,” said the chief knight, “to God and Saint George that we +have escaped the water! and not with invisible winds but with bodily +foes must our war be waged.” + +“Beau sire,” cried one knight, who had debarked immediately after the +speaker, and who seemed, from his bearing and equipment, of higher rank +than those that followed, “beau sire, this is a slight army to reconquer +a king’s realm! Pray Heaven that our bold companions have also escaped +the deep!” + +“Why, verily, we are not eno’ at the best, to spare one man,” said the +chief knight, gayly, “but, lo! we are not without welcomers.” And he +pointed to the crowd of villagers who now slowly neared the warlike +group, but halting at a little distance, continued to gaze at them in +some anxiety and alarm. + +“Ho there! good fellows!” cried the leader, striding towards the throng, +“what name give you to this village?” + +“Ravenspur, please your worship,” answered one of the peasants. + +“Ravenspur, hear you that, lords and friends? Accept the omen! On this +spot landed from exile Henry of Bolingbroke, known afterwards in our +annals as King Henry IV.! Bare is the soil of corn and of trees,--it +disdains meaner fruit; it grows kings! Hark!” The sound of a bugle was +heard at a little distance, and in a few moments a troop of about a +hundred men were seen rising above an undulation in the ground, and +as the two bands recognized each other, a shout of joy was given and +returned. + +As this new reinforcement advanced, the peasantry and fishermen, +attracted by curiosity and encouraged by the peaceable demeanour of the +debarkers, drew nearer, and mingled with the first comers. + +“What manner of men be ye, and what want ye?” asked one of the +bystanders, who seemed of better nurturing than the rest, and who, +indeed, was a small franklin. + +No answer was returned by those he more immediately addressed; but the +chief knight heard the question, and suddenly unbuckling his helmet, +and giving it to one of those beside him, he turned to the crowd a +countenance of singular beauty at once animated and majestic, and said +in a loud voice, “We are Englishmen, like you, and we come here to claim +our rights. Ye seem tall fellows and honest.--Standard bearer, unfurl +our flag!” And as the ensign suddenly displayed the device of a sun in +a field azure, the chief continued, “March under this banner, and for +every day ye serve, ye shall have a month’s hire.” + +“Marry!” quoth the franklin, with a suspicious, sinister look, “these +be big words. And who are you, Sir Knight, who would levy men in King +Henry’s kingdom?” + +“Your knees, fellows!” cried the second knight. “Behold your true liege +and suzerain, Edward IV.! Long live King Edward!” + +The soldiers caught up the cry, and it was re-echoed lustily by the +smaller detachment that now reached the spot; but no answer came from +the crowd. They looked at each other in dismay, and retreated rapidly +from their place amongst the troops. In fact, the whole of the +neighbouring district was devoted to Warwick, and many of the peasantry +about had joined the former rising under Sir John Coniers. The franklin +alone retreated not with the rest; he was a bluff, plain, bold fellow, +with good English blood in his veins. And when the shout ceased, he said +shortly, “We hereabouts know no king but King Henry. We fear you would +impose upon us. We cannot believe that a great lord like him you call +Edward IV. would land with a handful of men to encounter the armies of +Lord Warwick. We forewarn you to get into your ship and go back as fast +as ye came, for the stomach of England is sick of brawls and blows; and +what ye devise is treason!” + +Forth from the new detachment stepped a youth of small stature, not in +armour, and with many a weather-stain on his gorgeous dress. He laid his +hand upon the franklin’s shoulder. “Honest and plain-dealing fellow,” + said he, “you are right: pardon the foolish outburst of these brave men, +who cannot forget as yet that their chief has worn the crown. We come +back not to disturb this realm, nor to effect aught against King Henry, +whom the saints have favoured. No, by Saint Paul, we come but back to +claim our lands unjustly forfeit. My noble brother here is not king of +England, since the people will it not, but he is Duke of York, and he +will be contented if assured of the style and lands our father left him. +For me, called Richard of Gloucester, I ask nothing but leave to spend +my manhood where I have spent my youth, under the eyes of my renowned +godfather, Richard Nevile, Earl of Warwick. So report of us. Whither +leads yon road?” + +“To York,” said the franklin, softened, despite his judgment, by the +irresistible suavity of the voice that addressed him. + +“Thither will we go, my lord duke and brother, with your leave,” said +Prince Richard, “peaceably and as petitioners. God save ye, friends and +countrymen, pray for us, that King Henry and the parliament may do us +justice. We are not over rich now, but better times may come. Largess!” + and filling both hands with coins from his gipsire, he tossed the bounty +among the peasants. + +“Mille tonnere! What means he with this humble talk of King Henry and +the parliament?” whispered Edward to the Lord Say, while the crowd +scrambled for the largess, and Richard smilingly mingled amongst them, +and conferred with the franklin. + +“Let him alone, I pray you, my liege; I guess his wise design. And now +for our ships. What orders for the master?” + +“For the other vessels, let them sail or anchor as they list. But +for the bark that has borne Edward king of England to the land of his +ancestors there is no return!” + +The royal adventurer then beckoned the Flemish master of the ship, who, +with every sailor aboard, had debarked, and the loose dresses of the +mariners made a strong contrast to the mail of the warriors with whom +they mingled. + +“Friend,” said Edward, in French, “thou hast said that thou wilt share +my fortunes, and that thy good fellows are no less free of courage and +leal in trust.” + +“It is so, sire. Not a man who has gazed on thy face, and heard thy +voice, but longs to serve one on whose brow Nature has written king.” + +“And trust me,” said Edward, “no prince of my blood shall be dearer to +me than you and yours, my friends in danger and in need. And sith it +be so, the ship that hath borne such hearts and such hopes should, in +sooth, know no meaner freight. Is all prepared?” + +“Yes, sire, as you ordered. The train is laid for the brennen.” + +“Up, then, with the fiery signal, and let it tell, from cliff to +cliff, from town to town, that Edward the Plantagenet, once returned to +England, leaves it but for the grave!” + +The master bowed, and smiled grimly. The sailors, who had been prepared +for the burning, arranged before between the master and the prince, and +whose careless hearts Edward had thoroughly won to his person and his +cause, followed the former towards the ship, and stood silently grouped +around the shore. The soldiers, less informed, gazed idly on, and +Richard now regained Edward’s side. + +“Reflect,” he said, as he drew him apart, “that, when on this spot +landed Henry of Bolingbroke, he gave not out that he was marching to the +throne of Richard II. He professed but to claim his duchy,--and men were +influenced by justice, till they became agents of ambition. This be +your policy; with two thousand men you are but Duke of York; with ten +thousand men you are King of England! In passing hither, I met with +many, and sounding the temper of the district, I find it not ripe to +share your hazard. The world soon ripens when it hath to hail success!” + +“O young boy’s smooth face! O old man’s deep brain!” said Edward, +admiringly, “what a king hadst thou made!” A sudden flush passed over +the prince’s pale cheek, and, ere it died away, a flaming torch was +hurled aloft in the air; it fell whirling into the ship--a moment, and a +loud crash; a moment, and a mighty blaze! Up sprung from the deck, along +the sails, the sheeted fire,-- + + “A giant beard of flame.” [Aeschylus: Agamemnon, 314] + +It reddened the coast, the skies, from far and near; it glowed on the +faces and the steel of the scanty army; it was seen, miles away, by the +warders of many a castle manned with the troops of Lancaster; it brought +the steed from the stall, the courier to the selle; it sped, as of old +the beacon fire that announced to Clytemnestra the return of the Argive +king. From post to post rode the fiery news, till it reached Lord +Warwick in his hall, King Henry in his palace, Elizabeth in her +sanctuary. The iron step of the dauntless Edward was once more pressed +upon the soil of England. + + + + +CHAPTER V. THE PROGRESS OF THE PLANTAGENET. + +A few words suffice to explain the formidable arrival we have just +announced. Though the Duke of Burgundy had by public proclamation +forbidden his subjects to aid the exiled Edward, yet, whether moved +by the entreaties of his wife, or wearied by the remonstrances of his +brother-in-law, he at length privately gave the dethroned monarch fifty +thousand florins to find troops for himself, and secretly hired Flemish +and Dutch vessels to convey him to England. [Comines, Hall, Lingard, S. +Turner] But so small was the force to which the bold Edward trusted his +fortunes, that it almost seemed as if Burgundy sent him forth to his +destruction. He sailed from the coast of Zealand; the winds, if less +unmanageable than those that blew off the seaport where Margaret and her +armament awaited a favouring breeze, were still adverse. Scared from the +coast of Norfolk by the vigilance of Warwick and Oxford, who had filled +that district with armed men, storm and tempest drove him at last to +Humber Head, where we have seen him land, and whence we pursue his +steps. + +The little band set out upon its march, and halted for the night at a +small village two miles inland. Some of the men were then sent out on +horseback for news of the other vessels, that bore the remnant of the +invading force. These had, fortunately, effected a landing in various +places; and, before daybreak, Anthony Woodville, and the rest of the +troops, had joined the leader of an enterprise that seemed but the +rashness of despair, for its utmost force, including the few sailors +allured to the adventurer’s standard, was about two thousand men. +[Fifteen hundred, according to the Croyland historian.] Close and +anxious was the consultation then held. Each of the several detachments +reported alike of the sullen indifference of the population, which +each had sought to excite in favour of Edward. Light riders [Hall] +were despatched in various directions, still further to sound the +neighbourhood. All returned ere noon, some bruised and maltreated by the +stones and staves of the rustics, and not a voice had been heard to echo +the cry, “Long live King Edward!” The profound sagacity of Gloucester’s +guileful counsel was then unanimously recognized. Richard despatched a +secret letter to Clarence; and it was resolved immediately to proceed +to York, and to publish everywhere along the road that the fugitive had +returned but to claim his private heritage, and remonstrate with the +parliament which had awarded the duchy of York to Clarence, his younger +brother. + +“Such a power,” saith the Chronicle, “hath justice ever among men, that +all, moved by mercy or compassion, began either to favour or not +to resist him.” And so, wearing the Lancastrian Prince of Wales’s +cognizance of the ostrich feather, crying out as they marched, “Long +live King Henry!” the hardy liars, four days after their debarkation, +arrived at the gates of York. + +Here, not till after much delay and negotiation, Edward was admitted +only as Duke of York, and upon condition that he would swear to be a +faithful and loyal servant to King Henry; and at the gate by which he +was to enter, Edward actually took that oath, “a priest being by to +say Mass in the Mass tyme, receiving the body of our blessed Saviour!” + [Hall.] + +Edward tarried not long in York; he pushed forward. Two great nobles +guarded those districts,--Montagu and the Earl of Northumberland, to +whom Edward had restored his lands and titles, and who, on condition of +retaining them, had re-entered the service of Lancaster. This last, a +true server of the times, who had sided with all parties, now judged it +discreet to remain neutral. [This is the most favourable interpretation +of his conduct: according to some he was in correspondence with Edward, +who showed his letters.] But Edward must pass within a few miles of +Pontefract castle, where Montagu lay with a force that could destroy him +at a blow. Edward was prepared for the assault, but trusted to deceive +the marquis, as he had deceived the citizens of York,--the more for the +strong personal love Montagu had ever shown him. If not, he was prepared +equally to die in the field rather than eat again the bitter bread of +the exile. But to his inconceivable joy and astonishment, Montagu, +like Northumberland, lay idle and supine. Edward and his little troop +threaded safely the formidable pass. Alas! Montagu had that day received +a formal order from the Duke of Clarence, as co-protector of the realm, +[Our historians have puzzled their brains in ingenious conjectures +of the cause of Montagu’s fatal supineness at this juncture, and have +passed over the only probable solution of the mystery, which is to be +found simply enough stated thus in Stowe’s Chronicle: “The Marquess +Montacute would have fought with King Edward, but that he had received +letters from the Duke of Clarence that he should not fight till hee +came.” This explanation is borne out by the Warkworth Chronicler and +others, who, in an evident mistake of the person addressed, state that +Clarence wrote word to Warwick not to fight till he came. Clarence could +not have written so to Warwick, who, according to all authorities, was +mustering his troops near London, and not in the way to fight Edward; +nor could Clarence have had authority to issue such commands to his +colleague, nor would his colleague have attended to them, since we have +the amplest testimony that Warwick was urging all his captains to attack +Edward at once. The duke’s order was, therefore, clearly addressed to +Montagu.] to suffer Edward to march on, provided his force was small, +and he had taken the oaths to Henry, and assumed but the title of Duke +of York,--“for your brother the earl hath had compunctious visitings, +and would fain forgive what hath passed, for my father’s sake, and unite +all factions by Edward’s voluntary abdication of the throne; at all +hazards, I am on my way northward, and you will not fight till I come.” + The marquis,--who knew the conscientious doubts which Warwick had +entertained in his darker hours, who had no right to disobey the +co-protector, who knew no reason to suspect Lord Warwick’s son-in-law, +and who, moreover, was by no means anxious to be, himself, the +executioner of Edward, whom he had once so truly loved,--though a little +marvelling at Warwick’s softness, yet did not discredit the letter, and +the less regarded the free passage he left to the returned exiles, from +contempt for the smallness of their numbers, and his persuasion that +if the earl saw fit to alter his counsels, Edward was still more in his +power the farther he advanced amidst a hostile population, and towards +the armies which the Lords Exeter and Oxford were already mustering. + +But that free passage was everything to Edward! It made men think that +Montagu, as well as Northumberland, favoured his enterprise; that +the hazard was less rash and hopeless than it had seemed; that Edward +counted upon finding his most powerful allies among those falsely +supposed to be his enemies. The popularity Edward had artfully acquired +amongst the captains of Warwick’s own troops, on the march to Middleham, +now bestead him. Many of them were knights and gentlemen residing in the +very districts through which he passed. They did not join him, but they +did not oppose. Then rapidly flocked to “the Sun of York,” first the +adventurers and condottieri who in civil war adopt any side for pay; +next came the disappointed, the ambitious, and the needy. The hesitating +began to resolve, the neutral to take a part. From the state of +petitioners supplicating a pardon, every league the Yorkists marched +advanced them to the dignity of assertors of a cause. Doncaster first, +then Nottingham, then Leicester,--true to the town spirit we have before +described,--opened their gates to the trader prince. + +Oxford and Exeter reached Newark with their force. Edward marched on +them at once. Deceived as to his numbers, they took panic and fled. +When once the foe flies, friends ever start up from the very earth! +Hereditary partisans--gentlemen, knights, and nobles--now flocked fast +round the adventurer. Then came Lovell and Cromwell and D’Eyncourt, ever +true to York; and Stanley, never true to any cause. Then came the brave +knights Parr and Norris and De Burgh; and no less than three thousand +retainers belonging to Lord Hastings--the new man--obeyed the summons of +his couriers and joined their chief at Leicester. + +Edward of March, who had landed at Ravenspur with a handful of brigands, +now saw a king’s army under his banner. [The perplexity and confusion +which involve the annals of this period may be guessed by this,--that +two historians, eminent for research (Lingard and Sharon Turner), differ +so widely as to the numbers who had now joined Edward, that Lingard +asserts that at Nottingham he was at the head of fifty or sixty thousand +men; and Turner gives him, at the most, between six and seven thousand. +The latter seems nearer to the truth. We must here regret that Turner’s +partiality to the House of York induces him to slur over Edward’s +detestable perjury at York, and to accumulate all rhetorical arts to +command admiration for his progress,--to the prejudice of the salutary +moral horror we ought to feel for the atrocious perfidy and violation +of oath to which he owed the first impunity that secured the after +triumph.] Then the audacious perjurer threw away the mask; then, forth +went--not the prayer of the attainted Duke of York--but the proclamation +of the indignant king. England now beheld two sovereigns, equal in their +armies. It was no longer a rebellion to be crushed; it was a dynasty to +be decided. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. LORD WARWICK, WITH THE FOE IN THE FIELD AND THE TRAITOR AT +THE HEARTH. + +Every precaution which human wisdom could foresee had Lord Warwick taken +to guard against invasion, or to crush it at the onset. [Hall.] All the +coasts on which it was most probable Edward would land had been strongly +guarded. And if the Humber had been left without regular troops, it was +because prudence might calculate that the very spot where Edward did +land was the very last he would have selected,--unless guided by fate to +his destruction,--in the midst of an unfriendly population, and in face +of the armies of Northumberland and of Montagu. The moment the earl +heard of Edward’s reception at York,--far from the weakness which the +false Clarence (already in correspondence with Gloucester) imputed to +him,--he despatched to Montagu, by Marmaduke Nevile, peremptory orders +to intercept Edward’s path, and give him battle before he could advance +farther towards the centre of the island. We shall explain presently why +this messenger did not reach the marquis. But Clarence was some hours +before him in his intelligence and his measures. + +When the earl next heard that Edward had passed Pontefract with +impunity, and had reached Doncaster, he flew first to London, to arrange +for its defence; consigned the care of Henry to the Archbishop of +York, mustered a force already quartered in the neighbourhood of the +metropolis, and then marched rapidly back towards Coventry, where he +had left Clarence with seven thousand men; while he despatched new +messengers to Montagu and Northumberland, severely rebuking the former +for his supineness, and ordering him to march in all haste to attack +Edward in the rear. The earl’s activity, promptitude, all-provident +generalship, form a mournful contrast to the errors, the pusillanimity, +and the treachery of others, which hitherto, as we have seen, made all +his wisest schemes abortive. Despite Clarence’s sullenness, Warwick had +discovered no reason, as yet, to doubt his good faith. The oath he had +taken--not only to Henry in London, but to Warwick at Amboise--had been +the strongest which can bind man to man. If the duke had not gained all +he had hoped, he had still much to lose and much to dread by desertion +to Edward. He had been the loudest in bold assertions when he heard of +the invasion; and above all, Isabel, whose influence over Clarence +at that time the earl overrated, had, at the tidings of so imminent a +danger to her father, forgot all her displeasure and recovered all her +tenderness. + +During Warwick’s brief absence, Isabel had indeed exerted her utmost +power to repair her former wrongs, and induce Clarence to be faithful to +his oath. Although her inconsistency and irresolution had much weakened +her influence with the duke, for natures like his are governed but +by the ascendancy of a steady and tranquil will, yet still she so far +prevailed, that the duke had despatched to Richard a secret courier, +informing him that he had finally resolved not to desert his +father-in-law. + +This letter reached Gloucester as the invaders were on their march to +Coventry, before the strong walls of which the Duke of Clarence lay +encamped. Richard, after some intent and silent reflection, beckoned to +him his familiar Catesby. + +“Marmaduke Nevile, whom our scouts seized on his way to Pontefract, is +safe, and in the rear?” + +“Yes, my lord; prisoners but encumber us; shall I give orders to the +provost to end his captivity?” + +“Ever ready, Catesby!” said the duke, with a fell smile. “No; hark ye, +Clarence vacillates. If he hold firm to Warwick, and the two forces +fight honestly against us, we are lost; on the other hand, if Clarence +join us, his defection will bring not only the men he commands, all of +whom are the retainers of the York lands and duchy, and therefore free +from peculiar bias to the earl, and easily lured back to their proper +chief; but it will set an example that will create such distrust and +panic amongst the enemy, and give such hope of fresh desertions to our +own men, as will open to us the keys of the metropolis. But Clarence, +I say, vacillates; look you, here is his letter from Amboise to King +Edward; see, his duchess, Warwick’s very daughter, approves the promise +it contains! If this letter reach Warwick, and Clarence knows it is in +his hand, George will have no option but to join us. He will never dare +to face the earl, his pledge to Edward once revealed--” + +“Most true; a very legal subtlety, my lord,” said the lawyer Catesby, +admiringly. + +“You can serve us in this. Fall back; join Sir Marmaduke; affect to +sympathize with him; affect to side with the earl; affect to make terms +for Warwick’s amity and favour; affect to betray us; affect to have +stolen this letter. Give it to young Nevile, artfully effect his escape, +as if against our knowledge, and commend him to lose not an hour--a +moment--in gaining the earl, and giving him so important a forewarning +of the meditated treason of his son-in-law.” + +“I will do all,--I comprehend; but how will the duke learn in time that +the letter is on its way to Warwick?” + +“I will seek the duke in his own tent.” + +“And how shall I effect Sir Marmaduke’s escape?” + +“Send hither the officer who guards the prisoner; I will give him orders +to obey thee in all things.” + +The invaders marched on. The earl, meanwhile, had reached Warwick, +hastened thence to throw himself into the stronger fortifications of +the neighbouring Coventry, without the walls of which Clarence was +still encamped; Edward advanced on the town of Warwick thus vacated; +and Richard, at night, rode along to the camp of Clarence. [Hall, and +others.] + +The next day, the earl was employed in giving orders to his lieutenants +to march forth, join the troops of his son-in-law, who were a mile from +the walls, and advance upon Edward, who had that morning quitted Warwick +town, when suddenly Sir Marmaduke Nevile rushed into his presence, and, +faltering out, “Beware, beware!” placed in his hands the fatal letter +which Clarence had despatched from Amboise. + +Never did blow more ruthless fall upon man’s heart! Clarence’s +perfidy--that might be disdained; but the closing lines, which revealed +a daughter’s treachery--words cannot express the father’s anguish. + +The letter dropped from his hand, a stupor seized his senses, and, ere +yet recovered, pale men hurried into his presence to relate how, amidst +joyous trumpets and streaming banners, Richard of Gloucester had led +the Duke of Clarence to the brotherly embrace of Edward. [Hall. The +chronicler adds: “It was no marvell that the Duke of Clarence with so +small persuasion and less exhorting turned from the Earl of Warwick’s +party, for, as you have heard before, this marchandise was laboured, +conducted, and concluded by a damsell, when the duke was in the French +court, to the earl’s utter confusion.” Hume makes a notable mistake in +deferring the date of Clarence’s desertion to the battle of Barnet.] + +Breaking from these messengers of evil news, that could not now +surprise, the earl strode on, alone, to his daughter’s chamber. + +He placed the letter in her hands, and folding his arms said, “What +sayest thou of this, Isabel of Clarence?” The terror, the shame, the +remorse, that seized upon the wretched lady, the death-like lips, the +suppressed shriek, the momentary torpor, succeeded by the impulse which +made her fall at her father’s feet and clasp his knees,--told the earl, +if he had before doubted, that the letter lied not; that Isabel had +known and sanctioned its contents. + +He gazed on her (as she grovelled at his feet) with a look that her eyes +did well to shun. + +“Curse me not! curse me not!” cried Isabel, awed by his very silence. +“It was but a brief frenzy. Evil counsel, evil passion! I was maddened +that my boy had lost a crown. I repented, I repented! Clarence shall yet +be true. He hath promised it, vowed it to me; hath written to Gloucester +to retract all,--to--” + +“Woman! Clarence is in Edward’s camp!” + +Isabel started to her feet, and uttered a shriek so wild and despairing, +that at least it gave to her father’s lacerated heart the miserable +solace of believing the last treason had not been shared. A softer +expression--one of pity, if not of pardon--stole over his dark face. + +“I curse thee not,” he said; “I rebuke thee not. Thy sin hath its own +penance. Ill omen broods on the hearth of the household traitor! Never +more shalt thou see holy love in a husband’s smile. His kiss shall have +the taint of Judas. From his arms thou shalt start with horror, as from +those of thy wronged father’s betrayer,--perchance his deathsman! Ill +omen broods on the cradle of the child for whom a mother’s ambition +was but a daughter’s perfidy. Woe to thee, wife and mother! Even my +forgiveness cannot avert thy doom!” + +“Kill me! kill me!” exclaimed Isabel, springing towards him; but seeing +his face averted, his arms folded on his breast,--that noble breast, +never again her shelter,--she fell lifeless on the floor. [As our +narrative does not embrace the future fate of the Duchess of Clarence, +the reader will pardon us if we remind him that her first-born (who bore +his illustrious grandfather’s title of Earl of Warwick) was cast into +prison on the accession of Henry VII., and afterwards beheaded by that +king. By birth, he was the rightful heir to the throne. The ill-fated +Isabel died young (five years after the date at which our tale has +arrived). One of her female attendants was tried and executed on the +charge of having poisoned her. Clarence lost no time in seeking to +supply her place. He solicited the hand of Mary of Burgundy, sole +daughter and heir of Charles the Bold. Edward’s jealousy and fear +forbade him to listen to an alliance that might, as Lingard observes, +enable Clarence “to employ the power of Burgundy to win the crown of +England;” and hence arose those dissensions which ended in the secret +murder of the perjured duke.] + +The earl looked round, to see that none were by to witness his weakness, +took her gently in his arms, laid her on her couch, and, bending over +her a moment, prayed to God to pardon her. + +He then hastily left the room, ordered her handmaids and her litter, and +while she was yet unconscious, the gates of the town opened, and forth +through the arch went the closed and curtained vehicle which bore the +ill-fated duchess to the new home her husband had made with her father’s +foe! The earl watched it from the casement of his tower, and said to +himself,-- + +“I had been unmanned, had I known her within the same walls. Now forever +I dismiss her memory and her crime. Treachery hath done its worst, and +my soul is proof against all storms!” + +At night came messengers from Clarence and Edward, who had returned +to Warwick town, with offers of pardon to the earl, with promises of +favour, power, and grace. To Edward the earl deigned no answer; to the +messenger of Clarence he gave this: “Tell thy master I had liefer be +always like myself than like a false and a perjured duke, and that I +am determined never to leave the war till I have lost mine own life, or +utterly extinguished and put down my foes.” [Hall.] + +After this terrible defection, neither his remaining forces, nor the +panic amongst them which the duke’s desertion had occasioned, nor +the mighty interests involved in the success of his arms, nor the +irretrievable advantage which even an engagement of equivocal result +with the earl in person would give to Edward, justified Warwick in +gratifying the anticipations of the enemy,--that his valour and wrath +would urge him into immediate and imprudent battle. + +Edward, after the vain bravado of marching up to the walls of Coventry, +moved on towards London. Thither the earl sent Marmaduke, enjoining the +Archbishop of York and the lord mayor but to hold out the city for three +days, and he would come to their aid with such a force as would insure +lasting triumph. For, indeed, already were hurrying to his banner +Montagu, burning to retrieve his error, Oxford and Exeter, recovered +from, and chafing at, their past alarm. Thither his nephew, Fitzhugh, +led the earl’s own clansmen of Middleham; thither were spurring Somerset +from the west, [Most historians state that Somerset was then in London; +but Sharon Turner quotes “Harleian Manuscripts,” 38, to show that he had +left the metropolis “to raise an army from the western counties,” and +ranks him amongst the generals at the battle of Barnet.] and Sir Thomas +Dymoke from Lincolnshire, and the Knight of Lytton, with his hardy +retainers, from the Peak. Bold Hilyard waited not far from London, with +a host of mingled yeomen and bravos, reduced, as before, to discipline +under his own sturdy energies and the military craft of Sir John +Coniers. If London would but hold out till these forces could unite, +Edward’s destruction was still inevitable. + + + + +BOOK XII. THE BATTLE OF BARNET. + + + + +CHAPTER I. A KING IN HIS CITY HOPES TO RECOVER HIS REALM--A WOMAN IN HER +CHAMBER FEARS TO FORFEIT HER OWN. + +Edward and his army reached St. Alban’s. Great commotion, great joy, +were in the Sanctuary of Westminster! The Jerusalem Chamber, therein, +was made the high council-hall of the friends of York. Great commotion, +great terror, were in the city of London. Timid Master Stokton had been +elected mayor; horribly frightened either to side with an Edward or +a Henry, timid Master Stokton feigned or fell ill. Sir Thomas Cook, a +wealthy and influential citizen, and a member of the House of Commons, +had been appointed deputy in his stead. Sir Thomas Cook took fright +also, and ran away. [Fabyan.] The power of the city thus fell into the +hands of Ureswick, the Recorder, a zealous Yorkist. Great commotion, +great scorn, were in the breasts of the populace, as the Archbishop of +York, hoping thereby to rekindle their loyalty, placed King Henry +on horseback, and paraded him through the streets from Chepeside to +Walbrook, from Walbrook to St. Paul’s; for the news of Edward’s arrival, +and the sudden agitation and excitement it produced on his enfeebled +frame, had brought upon the poor king one of the epileptic attacks to +which he had been subject from childhood, and which made the cause of +his frequent imbecility; and, just recovered from such a fit,--his eyes +vacant, his face haggard, his head drooping,--the spectacle of such +an antagonist to the vigorous Edward moved only pity in the few and +ridicule in the many. Two thousand Yorkist gentlemen were in the various +Sanctuaries; aided and headed by the Earl of Essex, they came forth +armed and clamorous, scouring the streets, and shouting, “King Edward!” + with impunity. Edward’s popularity in London was heightened amongst the +merchants by prudent reminiscences of the vast debts he had incurred, +which his victory only could ever enable him to repay to his good +citizens. [Comines.] The women, always, in such a movement, active +partisans, and useful, deserted their hearths to canvass all strong arms +and stout hearts for the handsome woman-lover. [Comines.] The Yorkist +Archbishop of Canterbury did his best with the ecclesiastics, the +Yorkist Recorder his best with the flat-caps. Alwyn, true to his +anti-feudal principles, animated all the young freemen to support the +merchant-king, the favourer of commerce, the man of his age! The city +authorities began to yield to their own and the general metropolitan +predilections. But still the Archbishop of York had six thousand +soldiers at his disposal, and London could be yet saved to Warwick, if +the prelate acted with energy and zeal and good faith. That such was his +first intention is clear, from his appeal to the public loyalty in King +Henry’s procession; but when he perceived how little effect that pageant +had produced; when, on re-entering the Bishop of London’s palace, he +saw before him the guileless, helpless puppet of contending factions, +gasping for breath, scarcely able to articulate, the heartless prelate +turned away, with a muttered ejaculation of contempt. + +“Clarence had not deserted,” said he to himself, “unless he saw greater +profit with King Edward!” And then he began to commune with himself, and +to commune with his brother-prelate of Canterbury; and in the midst +of all this commune arrived Catesby, charged with messages to the +archbishop from Edward,--messages full of promise and affection on the +one hand, of menace and revenge upon the other. Brief: Warwick’s cup of +bitterness had not yet been filled; that night the archbishop and the +mayor of London met, and the Tower was surrendered to Edward’s friends. +The next day Edward and his army entered, amidst the shouts of the +populace; rode to St. Paul’s, where the archbishop [Sharon Turner. It is +a comfort to think that this archbishop was, two years afterwards, +first robbed, and then imprisoned, by Edward IV.; nor did he recover +his liberty till a few weeks before his death, in 1476 (five years +subsequently to the battle of Barnet).] met him, leading Henry by the +hand, again a captive; thence Edward proceeded to Westminster Abbey, +and, fresh from his atrocious perjury at York, offered thanksgiving for +its success. The Sanctuary yielded up its royal fugitives, and, in joy +and in pomp, Edward led his wife and her new-born babe, with Jacquetta +and his elder children, to Baynard’s Castle. + +The next morning (the third day), true to his promise, Warwick marched +towards London with the mighty armament he had now collected. Treason +had done its worst,--the metropolis was surrendered, and King Henry in +the Tower. + +“These things considered,” says the Chronicler, “the earl saw that all +calculations of necessity were brought to this end,--that they must now +be committed to the hazard and chance of one battle.” [Hall.] He halted, +therefore, at St. Alban’s, to rest his troops; and marching thence +towards Barnet, pitched his tents on the upland ground, then called the +Heath or Chase of Gladsmoor, and waited the coming foe. + +Nor did Edward linger long from that stern meeting. Entering London on +the 11th of April, he prepared to quit it on the 13th. Besides the force +he had brought with him, he had now recruits in his partisans from the +Sanctuaries and other hiding-places in the metropolis, while London +furnished him, from her high-spirited youths, a gallant troop of bow +and bill men, whom Alwyn had enlisted, and to whom Edward willingly +appointed, as captain, Alwyn himself,--who had atoned for his submission +to Henry’s restoration by such signal activity on behalf of the young +king, whom he associated with the interests of his class, and the weal +of the great commercial city, which some years afterwards rewarded his +affection by electing him to her chief magistracy. [Nicholas Alwyn, +the representative of that generation which aided the commercial and +anti-feudal policy of Edward IV. and Richard III., and welcomed its +consummation under their Tudor successor, rose to be Lord Mayor of +London in the fifteenth year of the reign of Henry VII.--FABYAN.] + +It was on that very day, the 13th of April, some hours before the +departure of the York army, that Lord Hastings entered the Tower, to +give orders relative to the removal of the unhappy Henry, whom Edward +had resolved to take with him on his march. + +And as he had so ordered and was about to return, Alwyn, emerging from +one of the interior courts, approached him in much agitation, and +said thus: “Pardon me, my lord, if in so grave an hour I recall your +attention to one you may haply have forgotten.” + +“Ah, the poor maiden; but you told me, in the hurried words that we have +already interchanged, that she was safe and well.” + +“Safe, my lord,--not well. Oh, hear me. I depart to battle for your +cause and your king’s. A gentleman in your train has advised me that you +are married to a noble dame in the foreign land. If so, this girl whom +I have loved so long and truly may yet forget you, may yet be mine. Oh, +give me that hope to make me a braver soldier.” + +“But,” said Hastings, embarrassed, and with a changing countenance, “but +time presses, and I know not where the demoiselle--” + +“She is here,” interrupted Alwyn; “here, within these walls, in yonder +courtyard. I have just left her. You, whom she loves, forgot her! I, +whom she disdains, remembered. I went to see to her safety, to counsel +her to rest here for the present, whatever betides; and at every word I +said, she broke in upon me with but one name,--that name was thine! And +when stung, and in the impulse of the moment, I exclaimed, ‘He deserves +not this devotion. They tell me, Sibyll, that Lord Hastings has found a +wife in exile.’ Oh, that look! that cry! they haunt me still. ‘Prove it, +prove it, Alwyn,’ she cried. ‘And--’ I interrupted, ‘and thou couldst +yet, for thy father’s sake, be true wife to me?’” + +“Her answer, Alwyn?” + +“It was this, ‘For my father’s sake only, then, could I live on; and--’ +her sobs stopped her speech, till she cried again, ‘I believe it not! +thou hast deceived me. Only from his lips will I hear the sentence.’ Go +to her, manfully and frankly, as becomes you, high lord,--go! It Is but +a single sentence thou hast to say, and thy heart will be the lighter, +and thine arm the stronger for those honest words.” + +Hastings pulled his cap over his brow, and stood a moment as if in +reflection; he then said, “Show me the way; thou art right. It is due to +her and to thee; and as by this hour to-morrow my soul may stand before +the Judgment-seat, that poor child’s pardon may take one sin from the +large account.” + + + + +CHAPTER II. SHARP IS THE KISS OF THE FALCON’S BEAR. + +Hastings stood in the presence of the girl to whom he had pledged his +truth. They were alone; but in the next chamber might be heard the +peculiar sound made by the mechanism of the Eureka. Happy and lifeless +mechanism, which moves, and toils, and strives on, to change the destiny +of millions, but hath neither ear nor eye, nor sense nor heart,--the +avenues of pain to man! She had--yes, literally--she had recognized her +lover’s step upon the stair, she had awakened at once from that dull and +icy lethargy with which the words of Alwyn had chained life and soul. +She sprang forward as Hastings entered; she threw herself in delirious +joy upon his bosom. “Thou art come, thou art! It is not true, not true. +Heaven bless thee! thou art come!” But sudden as the movement was the +recoil. Drawing herself back, she gazed steadily on his face, and said, +“Lord Hastings, they tell me thy hand is another’s. Is it true?” + +“Hear me!” answered the nobleman. “When first I--” + +“O God! O God! he answers not, he falters! Speak! Is it true?” + +“It is true. I am wedded to another.” + +Sibyll did not fall to the ground, nor faint, nor give vent to noisy +passion. But the rich colour, which before had been varying and fitful, +deserted her cheek, and left it of an ashen whiteness; the lips, too, +grew tightly compressed, and her small fingers, interlaced, were clasped +with strained and convulsive energy, so that the quivering of the very +arms was perceptible. In all else she seemed composed, as she said, +“I thank you, my lord, for the simple truth; no more is needed. Heaven +bless you and yours! Farewell!” + +“Stay! you shall--you must hear me on. Thou knowest how dearly in youth +I loved Katherine Nevile. In manhood the memory of that love haunted me, +but beneath thy sweet smile I deemed it at last effaced; I left thee +to seek the king, and demand his assent to our union. I speak not of +obstacles that then arose; in the midst of them I learned Katherine was +lone and widowed,--was free. At her own summons I sought her +presence, and learned that she had loved me ever,--loved me still. The +intoxication of my early dream returned; reverse and exile followed +close; Katherine left her state, her fortunes, her native land, and +followed the banished man; and so memory and gratitude and destiny +concurred, and the mistress of my youth became my wife. None other could +have replaced thy image; none other have made me forget the faith I +pledged thee. The thought of thee has still pursued me,--will pursue me +to the last. I dare not say now that I love thee still, but yet--” He +paused, but rapidly resumed, “Enough, enough! dear art thou to me, and +honoured,--dearer, more honoured than a sister. Thank Heaven, at least, +and thine own virtue, my falsehood leaves thee pure and stainless. Thy +hand may yet bless a worthier man. If our cause triumphs, thy fortunes, +thy father’s fate, shall be my fondest care. Never, never will my sleep +be sweet, and my conscience laid to rest, till I hear thee say, as +honoured wife--perchance, as blessed and blessing mother--‘False one, I +am happy!’” + +A cold smile, at these last words, flitted over the girl’s face,--the +smile of a broken heart; but it vanished, and with that strange mixture +of sweetness and pride,--mild and forgiving, yet still spirited and +firm,--which belonged to her character, she nerved herself to the last +and saddest effort to preserve dignity and conceal despair. “Farther +words, my lord, are idle; I am rightly punished for a proud folly. Let +not woman love above her state. Think no more of my destiny.” + +“No, no,” interrupted the remorseful lord, “thy destiny must haunt me +till thou hast chosen one with a better right to protect thee.” + +At the repetition of that implied desire to transfer her also to +another, a noble indignation came to mar the calm for which she had +hitherto not vainly struggled. “Oh, man!” she exclaimed, with +passion, “does thy deceit give me the right to deceive another? I--I +wed!--I--I--vow at the altar--a love dead, dead forever--dead as my own +heart! Why dost thou mock me with the hollow phrase, ‘Thou art pure and +stainless?’ Is the virginity of the soul still left? Do the tears I have +shed for thee; doth the thrill of my heart when I heard thy voice; +doth the plighted kiss that burns, burns now into my brow, and on my +lips,--do these, these leave me free to carry to a new affection the +cinders and ashes of a soul thou hast ravaged and deflowered? Oh, coarse +and rude belief of men, that naught is lost if the mere form be pure! +The freshness of the first feelings, the bloom of the sinless thought, +the sigh, the blush of the devotion--never, never felt but once! these, +these make the true dower a maiden should bring to the hearth to which +she comes as wife. Oh, taunt! Oh, insult! to speak to me of happiness, +of the altar! Thou never knewest, lord, how I really loved thee!” And +for the first time, a violent gush of tears came to relieve her heart. + +Hastings was almost equally overcome. Well experienced as he was in +those partings when maids reproach and gallants pray for pardon, but +still sigh, “Farewell,”--he had now no words to answer that burst of +uncontrollable agony; and he felt at once humbled and relieved, when +Sibyll again, with one of those struggles which exhaust years of +life, and almost leave us callous to all after-trial, pressed back the +scalding tears, and said, with unnatural sweetness: “Pardon me, my lord, +I meant not to reproach; the words escaped me,--think of them no more. I +would fain, at least, part from you now as I had once hoped to part +from you at the last hour of life,--without one memory of bitterness and +anger, so that my conscience, whatever its other griefs, might say, ‘My +lips never belied my heart, my words never pained him!’ And now then, +Lord Hastings, in all charity, we part. Farewell forever, and forever! +Thou hast wedded one who loves thee, doubtless, as tenderly as I had +done. Ah, cherish that affection! There are times even in thy career +when a little love is sweeter than much fame. If thou thinkest I have +aught to pardon thee, now with my whole heart I pray, as while life is +mine that prayer shall be murmured, ‘Heaven forgive this man, as I do! +Heaven make his home the home of peace, and breathe into those now near +and dear to him, the love and the faith that I once--’” She stopped, for +the words choked her, and, hiding her face, held out her hand, in sign +of charity and of farewell. + +“Ah, if I dared pray like thee,” murmured Hastings, pressing his +lips upon that burning hand, “how should I weary Heaven to repair, +by countless blessings, the wrong which I have done thee! And Heaven +will--oh, it surely will!” He pressed the hand to his heart, dropped it, +and was gone. + +In the courtyard he was accosted by Alwyn-- + +“Thou hast been frank, my lord?” + +“I have.” + +“And she bears it, and--” + +“See how she forgives, and how I suffer!” said Hastings, turning his +face towards his rival; and Alwyn saw that the tears were rolling +down his cheeks--“Question me no more.” There was a long silence. +They quitted the precincts of the Tower, and were at the river-side. +Hastings, waving his hand to Alwyn, was about to enter the boat which +was to bear him to the war council assembled at Baynard’s Castle, when +the trader stopped him, and said anxiously,-- + +“Think you not, for the present, the Tower is the safest asylum +for Sibyll and her father? If we fail and Warwick returns, they are +protected by the earl; if we triumph, thou wilt insure their safety from +all foes?” + +“Surely; in either case, their present home is the most secure.” + +The two men then parted. And not long afterwards, Hastings, who led the +on-guard, was on his way towards Barnet; with him also went the foot +volunteers under Alwyn. The army of York was on its march. Gloucester, +to whose vigilance and energy were left the final preparations, was +necessarily the last of the generals to quit the city. And suddenly, +while his steed was at the gate of Baynard’s Castle, he entered, armed +cap-a-pie, into the chamber where the Duchess of Bedford sat with her +grandchildren. + +“Madame,” said he, “I have a grace to demand from you, which will, +methinks, not be displeasing. My lieutenants report to me that an alarm +has spread amongst my men,--a religious horror of some fearful bombards +and guns which have been devised by a sorcerer in Lord Warwick’s pay. +Your famous Friar Bungey has been piously amongst them, promising, +however, that the mists which now creep over the earth shall last +through the night and the early morrow; and if he deceive us not, we may +post our men so as to elude the hostile artillery. But, sith the friar +is so noted and influential, and sith there is a strong fancy that the +winds which have driven back Margaret obeyed his charm, the soldiers +clamour out for him to attend us, and, on the very field itself, +counteract the spells of the Lancastrian nigromancer. The good friar, +more accustomed to fight with fiends than men, is daunted, and resists. +As much may depend on his showing us good will, and making our fellows +suppose we have the best of the witchcraft, I pray you to command his +attendance, and cheer up his courage. He waits without.” + +“A most notable, a most wise advice, beloved Richard!” cried the +duchess. “Friar Bungey is, indeed, a potent man. I will win him at once +to your will;” and the duchess hurried from the room. + +The friar’s bodily fears, quieted at last by assurances that he should +be posted in a place of perfect safety during the battle, and his +avarice excited by promises of the amplest rewards, he consented to +accompany the troops, upon one stipulation,--namely, that the atrocious +wizard, who had so often baffled his best spells,--the very wizard who +had superintended the accursed bombards, and predicted Edward’s previous +defeat and flight (together with the diabolical invention, in which all +the malice and strength of his sorcery were centred),--might, according +to Jacquetta’s former promise, be delivered forthwith to his mercy, and +accompany him to the very spot where he was to dispel and counteract +the Lancastrian nigromancer’s enchantments. The duchess, too glad to +purchase the friar’s acquiescence on such cheap terms, and to whose +superstitious horror for Adam’s lore in the black art was now added a +purely political motive for desiring him to be made away with,--inasmuch +as in the Sanctuary she had at last extorted from Elizabeth the dark +secret which might make him a very dangerous witness against the +interests and honour of Edward,--readily and joyfully consented to this +proposition. + +A strong guard was at once despatched to the Tower with the friar +himself, followed by a covered wagon, which was to serve for conveyance +to Bungey and his victim. + +In the mean while, Sibyll, after remaining for some time in the chamber +which Hastings had abandoned to her solitary woe, had passed to the room +in which her father held mute commune with his Eureka. + +The machine was now thoroughly completed,--improved and perfected, +to the utmost art the inventor ever could attain. Thinking that the +prejudice against it might have arisen from its uncouth appearance, +the poor philosopher had sought now to give it a gracious and imposing +appearance. He had painted and gilt it with his own hands; it looked +bright and gaudy in its gay hues; its outward form was worthy of the +precious and propitious jewel which lay hidden in its centre. + +“See, child, see!” said Adam; “is it not beautiful and comely?” + +“My dear father, yes!” answered the poor girl, as still she sought to +smile; then, after a short silence, she continued, “Father, of late, +methinks, I have too much forgotten thee; pardon me, if so. Henceforth, +I have no care in life but thee; henceforth let me ever, when thou +toilest, come and sit by thy side. I would not be alone,--I dare not! +Father, Father! God shield thy harmless life! I have nothing to love +under heaven but thee!” + +The good man turned wistfully, and raised, with tremulous hands, the sad +face that had pressed itself on his bosom. Gazing thereon mournfully, he +said, “Some new grief hath chanced to thee, my child. Methought I heard +another voice besides thine in yonder room. Ah, has Lord Hastings--” + +“Father, spare me! Thou wert too right; thou didst judge too wisely. +Lord Hastings is wedded to another! But see, I can smile still, I am +calm. My heart will not break so long as it hath thee to love and pray +for!” + +She wound her arms round him as she spoke, and he roused himself from +his world out of earth again. Though he could bring no comfort, there +was something, at least, to the forlorn one, in his words of love, in +his tears of pity. + +They sat down together, side by side, as the evening darkened,--the +Eureka forgotten in the hour of its perfection! They noted not the +torches which flashed below, reddened at intervals the walls of their +chamber, and gave a glow to the gay gilding and bright hues of the gaudy +model. Yet those torches flickered round the litter that was to convey +Henry the Peaceful to the battlefield, which was to decide the dynasty +of his realm! The torches vanished, and forth from the dark fortress +went the captive king. + +Night succeeded to eve, when again the red glare shot upward on the +Eureka, playing with fantastic smile on its quaint aspect. Steps and +voices, and the clatter of arms, sounded in the yard, on the stairs, +in the adjoining chamber; and suddenly the door was flung open, and, +followed by some half score soldiers, strode in the terrible friar. + +“Aha, Master Adam! who is the greater nigromancer now? Seize him! Away! +And help you, Master Sergeant, to bear this piece of the foul fiend’s +cunning devising. Ho, ho! see you how it is tricked out and furbished +up,--all for the battle, I warrant ye!” + +The soldiers had already seized upon Adam, who, stupefied by +astonishment rather than fear, uttered no sound, and attempted no +struggle. But it was in vain they sought to tear from him Sibyll’s +clinging and protecting arms. A supernatural strength, inspired by a +kind of superstition that no harm could chance to him while she was +by, animated her slight form; and fierce though the soldiers were, they +shrunk from actual and brutal violence to one thus young and fair. Those +small hands clung so firmly, that it seemed that nothing but the edge of +the sword could sever the child’s clasp from the father’s neck. + +“Harm him not, harm him at your peril, friar!” she cried, with flashing +eyes. “Tear him from me, and if King Edward win the day, Lord Hastings +shall have thy life; if Lord Warwick, thy days are numbered, too. +Beware, and avaunt!” + +The friar was startled. He had forgotten Lord Hastings in the zest of +his revenge. He feared that, if Sibyll were left behind, the tale she +might tell would indeed bring on him a powerful foe in the daughter’s +lover; on the other hand, should Lord Warwick get the better, what +vengeance would await her appeal to the great protector of her father! +He resolved, therefore, on the instant, to take Sibyll as well as her +father; and if the fortune of the day allowed him to rid himself of +Warner, a good occasion might equally occur to dispose forever of the +testimony of Sibyll. He had already formed a cunning calculation +in desiring Warner’s company; for while, should Edward triumph, the +sacrifice of the hated Warner was resolved upon, yet, should the earl +get the better, he could make a merit to Warner that he (the friar) had +not only spared, but saved, his life, in making him his companion. It +was in harmony with this double policy that the friar mildly answered to +Sibyll,-- + +“Tusk, my daughter! Perhaps if your father be true to King Edward, and +aid my skill instead of obstructing it, he may be none the worse for the +journey he must take; and if thou likest to go with him, there’s room in +the vehicle, and the more the merrier. Harm them not, soldiers; no doubt +they will follow quietly.” + +As he said this, the men, after first crossing themselves, had already +hoisted up the Eureka; and when Adam saw it borne from the room, he +instinctively followed the bearers. Sibyll, relieved by the thought +that, for weal or for woe, she should, at least, share her father’s +fate, and scarce foreboding much positive danger from the party which +contained Hastings and Alwyn, attempted no further remonstrance. + +The Eureka was placed in the enormous vehicle,--it served as a barrier +between the friar and his prisoners. + +The friar himself, as soon as the wagon was in motion, addressed himself +civilly enough to his fellow-travellers, and assured them there was +nothing to fear, unless Adam thought fit to disturb his incantations. +The captives answered not his address, but nestled close to each other, +interchanging, at intervals, words of comfort, and recoiling as far +as possible from the ex-tregetour, who, having taken with him a more +congenial companion in the shape of a great leathern bottle, finally +sunk into the silent and complacent doze which usually rewards the +libations to the Bromian god. + +The vehicle, with many other baggage-wagons in the rear of the army in +that memorable night-march, moved mournfully on; the night continued +wrapped in fog and mist, agreeably to the weatherwise predictions of the +friar. The rumbling groan of the vehicle, the tramp of the soldiers, the +dull rattle of their arms, with now and then the neigh of some knight’s +steed in the distance, were the only sounds that broke the silence, till +once, as they neared their destination, Sibyll started from her father’s +bosom, and shudderingly thought she recognized the hoarse chant and the +tinkling bells of the ominous tymbesteres. + + + + +CHAPTER III. A PAUSE. + +In the profound darkness of the night and the thick fog, Edward had +stationed his men at a venture upon the heath at Gladsmoor, [Edward “had +the greater number of men.”--HALL, p. 296.] and hastily environed +the camp with palisades and trenches. He had intended to have rested +immediately in front of the foe, but, in the darkness, mistook the +extent of the hostile line; and his men were ranged only opposite to +the left side of the earl’s force (towards Hadley), leaving the right +unopposed. Most fortunate for Edward was this mistake; for Warwick’s +artillery, and the new and deadly bombards he had constructed, were +placed on the right of the earl’s army; and the provident earl, +naturally supposing Edward’s left was there opposed to him, ordered +his gunners to cannonade all night. Edward, “as the flashes of the +guns illumined by fits the gloom of midnight, saw the advantage of +his unintentional error; and to prevent Warwick from discovering it, +reiterated his orders for the most profound silence.” [Sharon Turner.] +Thus even his very blunders favoured Edward more than the wisest +precautions had served his fated foe. + +Raw, cold, and dismal dawned the morning of the fourteenth of April, the +Easter Sabbath. In the fortunes of that day were involved those of all +the persons who hitherto, in the course of this narrative, may have +seemed to move in separate orbits from the fiery star of Warwick. Now, +in this crowning hour, the vast and gigantic destiny of the great earl +comprehended all upon which its darkness or its light had fallen: not +only the luxurious Edward, the perjured Clarence, the haughty Margaret, +her gallant son, the gentle Anne, the remorseful Isabel, the dark guile +of Gloucester, the rising fortunes of the gifted Hastings,--but on the +hazard of that die rested the hopes of Hilyard, and the interests of the +trader Alwyn, and the permanence of that frank, chivalric, hardy, still +half Norman race, of which Nicholas Alwyn and his Saxon class were the +rival antagonistic principle, and Marmaduke Nevile the ordinary type. +Dragged inexorably into the whirlpool of that mighty fate were even +the very lives of the simple Scholar, of his obscure and devoted child. +Here, into this gory ocean, all scattered rivulets and streams had +hastened to merge at last. + +But grander and more awful than all individual interests were those +assigned to the fortunes of this battle, so memorable in the English +annals,--the ruin or triumph of a dynasty; the fall of that warlike +baronage, of which Richard Nevile was the personation, the crowning +flower, the greatest representative and the last,--associated with +memories of turbulence and excess, it is true, but with the proudest and +grandest achievements in our early history; with all such liberty as had +been yet achieved since the Norman Conquest; with all such glory as had +made the island famous,--here with Runnymede, and there with Cressy; the +rise of a crafty, plotting, imperious Despotism, based upon the growing +sympathy of craftsmen and traders, and ripening on the one hand to the +Tudor tyranny, the Republican reaction under the Stuarts, the slavery, +and the civil war, but on the other hand to the concentration of all +the vigour and life of genius into a single and strong government, the +graces, the arts, the letters of a polished court, the freedom, the +energy, the resources of a commercial population destined to rise above +the tyranny at which it had first connived, and give to the emancipated +Saxon the markets of the world. Upon the victory of that day all these +contending interests, this vast alternative in the future, swayed and +trembled. Out, then, upon that vulgar craving of those who comprehend +neither the vast truths of life nor the grandeur of ideal art, and +who ask from poet or narrator the poor and petty morality of “Poetical +Justice,”--a justice existing not in our work-day world; a justice +existing not in the sombre page of history; a justice existing not +in the loftier conceptions of men whose genius has grappled with the +enigmas which art and poetry only can foreshadow and divine,--unknown +to us in the street and the market, unknown to us on the scaffold of the +patriot or amidst the flames of the martyr, unknown to us in the Lear +and the Hamlet, in the Agamemnon and the Prometheus. Millions upon +millions, ages upon ages, are entered but as items in the vast account +in which the recording angel sums up the unerring justice of God to man. + +Raw, cold, and dismal dawned the morning of the fourteenth of April. And +on that very day Margaret and her son, and the wife and daughter of Lord +Warwick, landed, at last, on the shores of England. [Margaret landed at +Weymouth; Lady Warwick, at Portsmouth.] Come they for joy or for woe, +for victory or despair? The issue of this day’s fight on the heath of +Gladsmoor will decide. Prank thy halls, O Westminster, for the triumph +of the Lancastrian king,--or open thou, O Grave, to receive the +saint-like Henry and his noble son. The king-maker goes before ye, +saint-like father and noble son, to prepare your thrones amongst the +living or your mansions amongst the dead! + + + + +CHAPTER IV. THE BATTLE. + +Raw, cold, and dismal dawned the morning of the fourteenth of April. The +heavy mist still covered both armies, but their hum and stir was already +heard through the gloaming,--the neighing of steeds, and the clangour +of mail. Occasionally a movement of either force made dim forms, seeming +gigantic through the vapour, indistinctly visible to the antagonistic +army; and there was something ghastly and unearthlike in these ominous +shapes, suddenly seen, and suddenly vanishing, amidst the sullen +atmosphere. By this time, Warwick had discovered the mistake of his +gunners; for, to the right of the earl, the silence of the Yorkists was +still unbroken, while abruptly, from the thick gloom to the left, broke +the hoarse mutter and low growl of the awakening war. Not a moment was +lost by the earl in repairing the error of the night: his artillery +wheeled rapidly from the right wing, and, sudden as a storm of +lightning, the fire from the cannon flashed through the dun and heavy +vapour, and, not far from the very spot where Hastings was marshalling +the wing intrusted to his command, made a deep chasm in the serried +ranks. Death had begun his feast! + +At that moment, however, from the centre of the Yorkist army, arose, +scarcely drowned by the explosion, that deep-toned shout of enthusiasm, +which he who has once heard it, coming, as it were, from the one +heart of an armed multitude, will ever recall as the most kindling +and glorious sound which ever quickened the pulse and thrilled the +blood,--for along that part of the army now rode King Edward. His mail +was polished as a mirror, but otherwise unadorned, resembling that which +now invests his effigies at the Tower, [The suit of armour, however, +which the visitor to the Royal Armoury is expected to believe King +Edward could have worn, is infinitely too small for such credulity. +Edward’s height was six feet two inches.] and the housings of his steed +were spangled with silver suns, for the silver sun was the cognizance on +all his banners. His head was bare, and through the hazy atmosphere the +gold of his rich locks seemed literally to shine. Followed by his body +squire, with his helm and lance, and the lords in his immediate staff, +his truncheon in his hand, he passed slowly along the steady line, till, +halting where he deemed his voice could be farthest heard, he reined +in, and lifting his hand, the shout of the soldiery was hushed; though +still, while he spoke, from Warwick’s archers came the arrowy shower, +and still the gloom was pierced and the hush interrupted by the flash +and the roar of the bombards. + +“Englishmen and friends,” said the martial chief, “to bold deeds go +but few words. Before you is the foe! From Ravenspur to London I have +marched, treason flying from my sword, loyalty gathering to my standard. +With but two thousand men, on the fourteenth of March, I entered +England; on the fourteenth of April, fifty thousand is my muster roll. +Who shall say, then, that I am not king, when one month mans a monarch’s +army from his subjects’ love? And well know ye, now, that my cause is +yours and England’s! Those against us are men who would rule in despite +of law,--barons whom I gorged with favours, and who would reduce this +fair realm of King, Lords, and Commons to be the appanage and property +of one man’s measureless ambition,--the park, forsooth, the homestead to +Lord Warwick’s private house! Ye gentlemen and knights of England, let +them and their rabble prosper, and your properties will be despoiled, +your lives insecure, all law struck dead. What differs Richard of +Warwick from Jack Cade, save that if his name is nobler, so is his +treason greater? Commoners and soldiers of England, freemen, however +humble, what do these rebel lords (who would rule in the name of +Lancaster) desire? To reduce you to villeins and to bondsmen, as your +forefathers were to them. Ye owe freedom from the barons to the just +laws of my sires, your kings. Gentlemen and knights, commoners and +soldiers, Edward IV. upon his throne will not profit by a victory more +than you. This is no war of dainty chivalry,--it is a war of true men +against false. No quarter! Spare not either knight or hilding. Warwick, +forsooth, will not smite the Commons. Truly not,--the rabble are his +friends! I say to you--” and Edward, pausing in the excitement and +sanguinary fury of his tiger nature,--the soldiers, heated like himself +to the thirst of blood, saw his eyes sparkle, and his teeth gnash, as he +added in a deeper and lower, but not less audible voice, “I say to you, +SLAY ALL! [Hall.] What heel spares the viper’s brood?” + +“We will! we will!” was the horrid answer, which came hissing and +muttered forth from morion and cap of steel. + +“Hark! to their bombards!” resumed Edward. “The enemy would fight from +afar, for they excel us in their archers and gunners. Upon them, then, +hand to hand, and man to man! Advance banners, sound trumpets! Sir +Oliver, my bassinet! Soldiers, if my standard falls, look for the plume +upon your king’s helmet! Charge!” + +Then, with a shout wilder and louder than before, on through the hail +of the arrows, on through the glare of the bombards, rather with a rush +than in a march, advanced Edward’s centre against the array of Somerset; +but from a part of the encampment where the circumvallation seemed +strongest, a small body of men moved not with the general body. + +To the left of the churchyard of Hadley, at this day, the visitor may +notice a low wall; on the other side of that wall is a garden, then but +a rude eminence on Gladsmoor Heath. On that spot a troop in complete +armour, upon destriers pawing impatiently, surrounded a man upon a sorry +palfrey, and in a gown of blue,--the colour of royalty and of servitude; +that man was Henry the Sixth. In the same space stood Friar Bungey, +his foot on the Eureka, muttering incantations, that the mists he had +foretold, [Lest the reader should suppose that the importance of Friar +Bungey upon this bloody day has been exaggerated by the narrator, we +must cite the testimony of sober Allerman Fabyan: “Of the mists and +other impediments which fell upon the lords’ party, by reason of the +incantations wrought by Friar Bungey, as the fame went, me list not to +write.”] and which had protected the Yorkists from the midnight guns, +might yet last, to the confusion of the foe. And near him, under a +gaunt, leafless tree, a rope round his neck, was Adam Warner, Sibyl +still faithful to his side, nor shuddering at the arrows and the guns, +her whole fear concentrated upon the sole life for which her own was +prized. Upon this eminence, then, these lookers-on stood aloof. And +the meek ears of Henry heard through the fog the inexplicable, sullen, +jarring clash,--steel had met steel. + +“Holy Father!” exclaimed the kingly saint, “and this is the Easter +Sabbath, Thy most solemn day of peace!” + +“Be silent,” thundered the friar; “thou disturbest my spells. +Barabbarara, Santhinoa, Foggibus increscebo, confusio inimicis, +Garabbora, vapor et mistes!” + +We must now rapidly survey the dispositions of the army under Warwick. +In the right wing, the command was entrusted to the Earl of Oxford +and the Marquis of Montagu. The former, who led the cavalry of that +division, was stationed in the van; the latter, according to his usual +habit--surrounded by a strong body-guard of knights and a prodigious +number of squires as aides-de-camp--remained at the rear, and directed +thence by his orders the general movement. In this wing the greater +number were Lancastrian, jealous of Warwick, and only consenting to the +generalship of Montagu because shared by their favourite hero, Oxford. +In the mid-space lay the chief strength of the bowmen, with a goodly +number of pikes and bills, under the Duke of Somerset; and this division +also was principally Lancastrian, and shared the jealousy of Oxford’s +soldiery. The left wing, composed for the most part of Warwick’s +yeomanry and retainers, was commanded by the Duke of Exeter, conjointly +with the earl himself. Both armies kept a considerable body in reserve, +and Warwick, besides this resource, had selected from his own retainers +a band of picked archers, whom he had skilfully placed in the outskirts +of a wood that then stretched from Wrotham Park to the column that now +commemorates the battle of Barnet, on the high northern road. He had +guarded these last-mentioned archers (where exposed in front to Edward’s +horsemen) by strong tall barricades, leaving only such an opening +as would allow one horseman at a time to pass, and defending by a +formidable line of pikes this narrow opening left for communication, and +to admit to a place of refuge in case of need. These dispositions made, +and ere yet Edward had advanced on Somerset, the earl rode to the front +of the wing under his special command, and, agreeably to the custom of +the time, observed by his royal foe, harangued the troops. Here were +placed those who loved him as a father, and venerated him as something +superior to mortal man; here the retainers who had grown up with him +from his childhood, who had followed him to his first fields of war, who +had lived under the shelter of his many castles, and fed, in that rude +equality of a more primeval age which he loved still to maintain, at his +lavish board. And now Lord Warwick’s coal-black steed halted, motionless +in the van. His squire behind bore his helmet, overshadowed by the eagle +of Monthermer, the outstretched wings of which spread wide into sable +plumes; and as the earl’s noble face turned full and calm upon the +bristling lines, there arose not the vulgar uproar that greeted the +aspect of the young Edward. By one of those strange sympathies which +pass through multitudes, and seize them with a common feeling, the whole +body of those adoring vassals became suddenly aware of the change which +a year had made in the face of their chief and father. They saw the +gray flakes in his Jove-like curls, the furrows in that lofty brow, the +hollows in that bronzed and manly visage, which had seemed to their rude +admiration to wear the stamp of the twofold Divinity,--Beneficence and +Valour. A thrill of tenderness and awe shot through the veins of every +one, tears of devotion rushed into many a hardy eye. No! there was not +the ruthless captain addressing his hireling butchers; it was the chief +and father rallying gratitude and love and reverence to the crisis of +his stormy fate. + +“My friends, my followers, and my children,” said the earl, “the field +we have entered is one from which there is no retreat; here must your +leader conquer or here die. It is not a parchment pedigree, it is not a +name derived from the ashes of dead men, that make the only charter of a +king. We Englishmen were but slaves, if, in giving crown and sceptre +to a mortal like ourselves, we asked not in return the kingly virtues. +Beset of old by evil counsellors, the reign of Henry VI. was obscured, +and the weal of the realm endangered. Mine own wrongs seemed to me +great, but the disasters of my country not less. I deemed that in the +race of York, England would know a wiser and happier rule. What was, in +this, mine error, ye partly know. A prince dissolved in luxurious vices, +a nobility degraded by minions and blood-suckers, a people plundered by +purveyors, and a land disturbed by brawl and riot. But ye know not all: +God makes man’s hearth man’s altar: our hearths were polluted, our wives +and daughters were viewed as harlots, and lechery ruled the realm. A +king’s word should be fast as the pillars of the world. What man ever +trusted Edward and was not deceived? Even now the unknightly liar stands +in arms with the weight of perjury on his soul. In his father’s town +of York, ye know that he took, three short weeks since, solemn oath +of fealty to King Henry. And now King Henry is his captive, and King +Henry’s holy crown upon his traitor’s head. ‘Traitors’ calls he Us? What +name, then, rank enough for him? Edward gave the promise of a brave man, +and I served him. He proved a base, a false, a licentious, and a cruel +king, and I forsook him; may all free hearts in all free lands so serve +kings when they become tyrants! Ye fight against a cruel and atrocious +usurper, whose bold hand cannot sanctify a black heart; ye fight not +only for King Henry, the meek and the godly,--ye fight not for him +alone, but for his young and princely son, the grandchild of Henry of +Agincourt, who, old men tell me, has that hero’s face, and who, I know, +has that hero’s frank and royal and noble soul; ye fight for the freedom +of your land, for the honour of your women, for what is better than any +king’s cause,--for justice and mercy, for truth and manhood’s virtues +against corruption in the laws, slaughter by the scaffold, falsehood +in a ruler’s lips, and shameless harlotry in the councils of ruthless +power. The order I have ever given in war I give now; we war against +the leaders of evil, not against the hapless tools; we war against our +oppressors, not against our misguided brethren. Strike down every plumed +crest, but when the strife is over, spare every common man! Hark! while +I speak, I hear the march of your foe! Up standards!--blow trumpets! And +now, as I brace my bassinet, may God grant us all a glorious victory, +or a glorious grave! On, my merry men! show these London loons the stout +hearts of Warwickshire and Yorkshire. On, my merry men! A Warwick! A +Warwick!” + +As he ended, he swung lightly over his head the terrible battle-axe +which had smitten down, as the grass before the reaper, the chivalry of +many a field; and ere the last blast of the trumpets died, the troops of +Warwick and of Gloucester met, and mingled hand to hand. + +Although the earl had, on discovering the position of the enemy, moved +some of his artillery from his right wing, yet there still lay the great +number and strength of his force. And there, therefore, Montagu, rolling +troop on troop to the aid of Oxford, pressed so overpoweringly upon +the soldiers under Hastings, that the battle very soon wore a most +unfavourable aspect for the Yorkists. It seemed, indeed, that the +success which had always hitherto attended the military movements of +Montagu was destined for a crowning triumph. Stationed, as we have said, +in the rear, with his light-armed squires, upon fleet steeds, around +him, he moved the springs of the battle with the calm sagacity which at +that moment no chief in either army possessed. Hastings was thoroughly +outflanked, and though his men fought with great valour, they could not +resist the weight of superior numbers. + +In the midst of the carnage in the centre, Edward reined in his steed as +he heard the cry of victory in the gale. + +“By Heaven!” he exclaimed, “our men at the left are cravens! they fly! +they fly!--Ride to Lord Hastings, Sir Humphrey Bourchier, bid him defile +hither what men are left him; and now, ere our fellows are well +aware what hath chanced yonder, charge we, knights and gentlemen, on, +on!--break Somerset’s line; on, on, to the heart of the rebel earl!” + +Then, visor closed, lance in rest, Edward and his cavalry dashed through +the archers and billmen of Somerset; clad in complete mail, impervious +to the weapons of the infantry, they slaughtered as they rode, and their +way was marked by corpses and streams of blood. Fiercest and fellest of +all was Edward himself; when his lance shivered, and he drew his knotty +mace from its sling by his saddlebow, woe to all who attempted to stop +his path. Vain alike steel helmet or leathern cap, jerkin or coat of +mail. In vain Somerset threw himself into the melee. The instant Edward +and his cavalry had made a path through the lines for his foot-soldiery, +the fortunes of the day were half retrieved. It was no rapid passage, +pierced and reclosed, that he desired to effect,--it was the wedge in +the oak of war. There, rooted in the very midst of Somerset’s troops, +doubling on each side, passing on but to return again, where helm could +be crashed and man overthrown, the mighty strength of Edward widened the +breach more and more, till faster and faster poured in his bands, +and the centre of Warwick’s army seemed to reel and whirl round the +broadening gap through its ranks, as the waves round some chasm in a +maelstrom. + +But in the interval, the hard-pressed troops commanded by Hastings were +scattered and dispersed; driven from the field, they fled in numbers +through the town of Barnet; many halted not till they reached London, +where they spread the news of the earl’s victory and Edward’s ruin. +[Sharon Turner.] + +Through the mist, Friar Bungey discerned the fugitive Yorkists under +Hastings, and heard their cries of despair; through the mist, Sibyll +saw, close beneath the intrenchments which protected the space on which +they stood, an armed horseman with the well-known crest of Hastings on +his helmet, and, with lifted visor, calling his men to the return, in +the loud voice of rage and scorn. And then she herself sprang forwards, +and forgetting his past cruelty in his present danger, cried his +name,--weak cry, lost in the roar of war! But the friar, now fearing he +had taken the wrong side, began to turn from his spells, to address the +most abject apologies to Adam, to assure him that he would have been +slaughtered at the Tower but for the friar’s interruption; and that +the rope round his neck was but an insignificant ceremony due to the +prejudices of the soldiers. “Alas, Great Man,” he concluded, “I see +still that thou art mightier than I am; thy charms, though silent, are +more potent than mine, though my lungs crack beneath them! Confusio +Inimicis Taralorolu, I mean no harm to the earl. Garrabora, mistes et +nubes!--Lord, what will become of me!” + +Meanwhile, Hastings--with a small body of horse, who being composed of +knights and squires, specially singled out for the sword, fought +with the pride of disdainful gentlemen, and the fury of desperate +soldiers--finding it impossible to lure back the fugitives, hewed their +own way through Oxford’s ranks to the centre, where they brought fresh +aid to the terrible arm of Edward. + + + + +CHAPTER V. THE BATTLE. + +The mist still continued so thick that Montagu was unable to discern +the general prospects of the field; but, calm and resolute in his post, +amidst the arrows which whirled round him, and often struck, blunted, +against his Milan mail, the marquis received the reports of his +aides-de-camp (may that modern word be pardoned?) as one after one they +emerged through the fog to his side. + +“Well,” he said, as one of these messengers now spurred to the spot, “we +have beaten off Hastings and his hirelings; but I see not ‘the Silver +Star’ of Lord Oxford’s banner.” [The Silver Star of the De Veres had its +origin in a tradition that one of their ancestors, when fighting in +the Holy Land, saw a falling star descend upon his shield. Fatal to men +nobler even than the De Veres was that silver falling star.] + +“Lord Oxford, my lord, has followed the enemy he routed to the farthest +verge of the heath.” + +“Saints help us! Is Oxford thus headstrong? He will ruin all if he be +decoyed from the field! Ride back, sir! Yet hold!”--as another of the +aides-de-camp appeared. “What news from Lord Warwick’s wing?” + +“Sore beset, bold marquis. Gloucester’s line seems countless; it already +outflanks the earl. The duke himself seems inspired by hell! Twice has +his slight arm braved even the earl’s battle-axe, which spared the boy +but smote to the dust his comrades!” + +“Well, and what of the centre, sir?” as a third form now arrived. + +“There rages Edward in person. He hath pierced into the midst. But +Somerset still holds on gallantly!” Montagu turned to the first +aide-de-camp. + +“Ride, sir! Quick! This to Oxford--No pursuit! Bid him haste, with all +his men, to the left wing, and smite Gloucester in the rear. Ride, ride, +for life and victory! If he come but in time the day is ours!” [Fabyan.] + +The aide-de-camp darted off, and the mist swallowed up horse and +horseman. + +“Sound trumpets to the return!” said the marquis. Then, after a moment’s +musing, “Though Oxford hath drawn off our main force of cavalry, we have +still some stout lances left; and Warwick must be strengthened. On to +the earl! Laissez aller! A Montagu! a Montagu!” And lance in rest, +the marquis and the knights immediately around him, and hitherto not +personally engaged, descended the hillock at a hand-gallop, and were met +by a troop outnumbering their own, and commanded by the Lords D’Eyncourt +and Say. + +At this time Warwick was indeed in the same danger that had routed the +troops of Hastings; for, by a similar position, the strength of the +hostile numbers being arrayed with Gloucester, the duke’s troops had +almost entirely surrounded him [Sharon Turner]; and Gloucester himself +wondrously approved the trust that had consigned to his stripling +arm the flower of the Yorkist army. Through the mists the blood-red +manteline he wore over his mail, the grinning teeth of the boar’s head +which crested his helmet, flashed and gleamed wherever his presence was +most needed to encourage the flagging or spur on the fierce. And there +seemed to both armies something ghastly and preternatural in the savage +strength of this small slight figure thus startlingly caparisoned, and +which was heard evermore uttering its sharp war-cry, “Gloucester to the +onslaught! Down with the rebels, down!” + +Nor did this daring personage disdain, in the midst of his fury, to +increase the effect of valour by the art of a brain that never ceased +to scheme on the follies of mankind. “See, see!” he cried, as he shot +meteor-like from rank to rank, “see, these are no natural vapours! +Yonder the mighty friar, who delayed the sails of Margaret, chants his +spells to the Powers that ride the gale. Fear not the bombards,--their +enchanted balls swerve from the brave! The dark legions of Air fight +for us! For the hour is come when the fiend shall rend his prey!” And +fiendlike seemed the form thus screeching forth its predictions from +under the grim head-gear; and then darting and disappearing amidst the +sea of pikes, cleaving its path of blood! + +But still the untiring might of Warwick defied the press of numbers +that swept round him tide upon tide. Through the mist, his black armour, +black plume, black steed, gloomed forth like one thundercloud in the +midst of a dismal heaven. The noble charger bore along that mighty +rider, animating, guiding all, with as much ease and lightness as the +racer bears its puny weight; the steed itself was scarce less terrible +to encounter than the sweep of the rider’s axe. Protected from arrow and +lance by a coat of steel, the long chaffron, or pike, which projected +from its barbed frontal dropped with gore as it scoured along. No line +of men, however serried, could resist the charge of that horse and +horseman. And vain even Gloucester’s dauntless presence and thrilling +battle-cry, when the stout earl was seen looming through the vapour, and +his cheerful shout was heard, “My merry men, fight on!” + +For a third time, Gloucester, spurring forth from his recoiling and +shrinking followers, bending low over his saddle-bow, covered by his +shield, and with the tenth lance (his favourite weapon, because the one +in which skill best supplied strength) he had borne that day, launched +himself upon the vast bulk of his tremendous foe. With that dogged +energy, that rapid calculation, which made the basis of his character, +and which ever clove through all obstacles at the one that, if +destroyed, destroyed the rest,--in that, his first great battle, as in +his last at Bosworth, he singled out the leader, and rushed upon the +giant as the mastiff on the horns and dewlap of the bull. Warwick, in +the broad space which his arm had made around him in the carnage, reined +in as he saw the foe and recognized the grisly cognizance and scarlet +mantle of his godson. And even in that moment, with all his heated blood +and his remembered wrong and his imminent peril, his generous and lion +heart felt a glow of admiration at the valour of the boy he had trained +to arms,--of the son of the beloved York. “His father little thought,” + muttered the earl, “that that arm should win glory against his old +friend’s life!” And as the half-uttered word died on his lips, the +well-poised lance of Gloucester struck full upon his bassinet, and, +despite the earl’s horsemanship and his strength, made him reel in his +saddle, while the prince shot by, and suddenly wheeling round, cast away +the shivered lance, and assailed him sword in hand. + +“Back, Richard! boy, back!” said the earl, in a voice that sounded +hollow through his helmet; “it is not against thee that my wrongs call +for blood,--pass on!” + +“Not so, Lord Warwick,” answered Richard, in a sobered and almost solemn +voice, dropping for the moment the point of his sword, and raising his +visor, that he might be the better heard,--“on the field of battle all +memories sweet in peace must die! Saint Paul be my judge, that even in +this hour I love you well; but I love renown and glory more. On the +edge of my sword sit power and royalty, and what high souls prize +most,--ambition; these would nerve me against my own brother’s breast, +were that breast my barrier to an illustrious future. Thou hast given +thy daughter to another! I smite the father to regain my bride. Lay on, +and spare not!--for he who hates thee most would prove not so fell a foe +as the man who sees his fortunes made or marred, his love crushed or yet +crowned, as this day’s battle closes in triumph or defeat. REBEL, DEFEND +THYSELF!” + +No time was left for further speech; for as Richard’s sword descended, +two of Gloucester’s followers, Parr and Milwater by name, dashed from +the halting lines at the distance, and bore down to their young prince’s +aid. At the same moment, Sir Marmaduke Nevile and the Lord Fitzhugh +spurred from the opposite line; and thus encouraged, the band on either +side came boldly forward, and the melee grew fierce and general. But +still Richard’s sword singled out the earl, and still the earl, parrying +his blows, dealt his own upon meaner heads. Crushed by one sweep of the +axe fell Milwater to the earth; down, as again it swung on high, fell +Sir Humphrey Bourchier, who had just arrived to Gloucester with messages +from Edward, never uttered in the world below. Before Marmaduke’s lance +fell Sir Thomas Parr; and these three corpses making a barrier between +Gloucester and the earl, the duke turned fiercely upon Marmaduke, while +the earl, wheeling round, charged into the midst of the hostile line, +which scattered to the right and left. + +“On! my merry men, on!” rang once more through the heavy air. “They give +way, the London tailors,--on!” and on dashed, with their joyous cry, the +merry men of Yorkshire and Warwick, the warrior yeomen! Separated thus +from his great foe, Gloucester, after unhorsing Marmaduke, galloped off +to sustain that part of his following which began to waver and retreat +before the rush of Warwick and his chivalry. + +This, in truth, was the regiment recruited from the loyalty of London; +and little accustomed, we trow, were the worthy heroes of Cockaigne to +the discipline of arms, nor trained to that stubborn resistance which +makes, under skilful leaders, the English peasants the most enduring +soldiery that the world has known since the day when the Roman sentinel +perished amidst the falling columns and lava floods [at Pompeii], rather +than, though society itself dissolved, forsake his post unbidden. “Saint +Thomas defend us!” muttered a worthy tailor, who in the flush of his +valour, when safe in the Chepe, had consented to bear the rank of +lieutenant; “it is not reasonable to expect men of pith and substance +to be crushed into jellies and carved into subtleties by horse-hoofs +and pole-axes. Right about face! Fly!”--and throwing down his sword and +shield, the lieutenant fairly took to his heels as he saw the charging +column, headed by the raven steed of Warwick, come giant-like through +the fog. The terror of one man is contagious, and the Londoners actually +turned their backs, when Nicholas Alwyn cried, in his shrill voice and +northern accent, “Out on you! What will the girls say of us in East-gate +and the Chepe? Hurrah for the bold hearts of London! Round me, stout +‘prentices! let the boys shame the men! This shaft for Cockaigne!” And +as the troop turned irresolute, and Alwyn’s arrow left his bow, they saw +a horseman by the side of Warwick reel in his saddle and fall at once +to the earth; and so great evidently was the rank of the fallen man that +even Warwick reined in, and the charge halted midway in its career. +It was no less a person than the Duke of Exeter whom Alwyn’s shaft had +disabled for the field. This incident, coupled with the hearty +address of the stout goldsmith, served to reanimate the flaggers, and +Gloucester, by a circuitous route, reaching their line a moment after, +they dressed their ranks, and a flight of arrows followed their loud +“Hurrah for London Town!” + +But the charge of Warwick had only halted, and (while the wounded Exeter +was borne back by his squires to the rear) it dashed into the midst of +the Londoners, threw their whole line into confusion, and drove them, +despite all the efforts of Gloucester, far back along the plain. This +well-timed exploit served to extricate the earl from the main danger of +his position; and, hastening to improve his advantage, he sent forthwith +to command the reserved forces under Lord St. John, the Knight of +Lytton, Sir John Coniers, Dymoke, and Robert Hilyard, to bear down to +his aid. + +At this time Edward had succeeded, after a most stubborn fight, in +effecting a terrible breach through Somerset’s wing; and the fog +continued still so dense and mirk, that his foe itself--for Somerset had +prudently drawn back to re-form his disordered squadron--seemed vanished +from the field. Halting now, as through the dim atmosphere came from +different quarters the many battle-cries of that feudal-day, by which +alone he could well estimate the strength or weakness of those in +the distance, his calmer genius as a general cooled, for a time, his +individual ferocity of knight and soldier. He took his helmet from his +brow to listen with greater certainty; and the lords and riders round +him were well content to take breath and pause from the weary slaughter. + +The cry of “Gloucester to the onslaught!” was heard no more. Feebler +and feebler, scatteringly as it were, and here and there, the note had +changed into “Gloucester to the rescue!” + +Farther off rose, mingled and blent together, the opposing shouts, “A +Montagu! a Montagu! Strike for D’Eyncourt and King Edward!”--“A Say! A +Say!” + +“Ha!” said Edward, thoughtfully, “bold Gloucester fails, Montagu is +bearing on to Warwick’s aid, Say and D’Eyncourt stop his path. Our doom +looks dark! Ride, Hastings,--ride; retrieve thy laurels, and bring up +the reserve under Clarence. But hark ye, leave not his side,--he may +desert again! Ho! ho! Again, ‘Gloucester to the rescue!’ Ah, how lustily +sounds the cry of ‘Warwick!’ By the flaming sword of Saint Michael, we +will slacken that haughty shout, or be evermore dumb ourself, ere the +day be an hour nearer to the eternal judgment!” + +Deliberately Edward rebraced his helm, and settled himself in his +saddle, and with his knights riding close each to each, that they might +not lose themselves in the darkness, regained his infantry, and led +them on to the quarter where the war now raged fiercest, round the black +steed of Warwick and the blood-red manteline of the fiery Richard. + + + + +CHAPTER VI. THE BATTLE. + +It was now scarcely eight in the morning, though the battle had endured +three hours; and, as yet, victory so inclined to the earl that nought +but some dire mischance could turn the scale. Montagu had cut his way to +Warwick; Somerset had re-established his array. The fresh vigour +brought by the earl’s reserve had well-nigh completed his advantage +over Gloucester’s wing. The new infantry under Hilyard, the unexhausted +riders under Sir John Coniers and his knightly compeers, were dealing +fearful havoc, as they cleared the plain; and Gloucester, fighting inch +by inch, no longer outnumbering but outnumbered, was driven nearer and +nearer towards the town, when suddenly a pale, sickly, and ghostlike ray +of sunshine, rather resembling the watery gleam of a waning moon than +the radiance of the Lord of Light, broke through the mists, and showed +to the earl’s eager troops the banner and badges of a new array hurrying +to the spot. “Behold,” cried the young Lord Fitzhugh, “the standard and +the badge of the Usurper,--a silver sun! Edward himself is delivered +into our hands! Upon them, bill and pike, lance and brand, shaft and +bolt! Upon them, and crown the day!” + +The same fatal error was shared by Hilyard, as he caught sight of the +advancing troop, with their silvery cognizance. He gave the word, and +every arrow left its string. At the same moment, as both horse and foot +assailed the fancied foe, the momentary beam vanished from the heaven, +the two forces mingled in the sullen mists, when, after a brief +conflict, a sudden and horrible cry of “Treason! Treason!” resounded +from either band. The shining star of Oxford, returning from the +pursuit, had been mistaken for Edward’s cognizance of the sun. +[Cont. Croyl., 555; Fabyan, Habington, Hume, S. Turner.] Friend was +slaughtering friend, and when the error was detected, each believed the +other had deserted to the foe. In vain, here Montagu and Warwick, and +there Oxford and his captains, sought to dispel the confusion, and unite +those whose blood had been fired against each other. While yet in +doubt, confusion, and dismay, rushed full into the centre Edward of York +himself, with his knights and riders; and his tossing banners, scarcely +even yet distinguished from Oxford’s starry ensigns, added to the +general incertitude and panic. Loud in the midst rose Edward’s trumpet +voice, while through the midst, like one crest of foam upon a roaring +sea, danced his plume of snow. Hark! again, again--near and nearer--the +tramp of steeds, the clash of steel, the whiz and hiss of arrows, the +shout of “Hastings to the onslaught!” Fresh, and panting for glory and +for blood, came on King Edward’s large reserve; from all the scattered +parts of the field spurred the Yorkist knights, where the uproar, so +much mightier than before, told them that the crisis of the war was +come. Thither, as vultures to the carcass, they flocked and wheeled; +thither D’Eyncourt and Lovell, and Cromwell’s bloody sword, and +Say’s knotted mace; and thither, again rallying his late half-beaten +myrmidons, the grim Gloucester, his helmet bruised and dinted, but the +boar’s teeth still gnashing wrath and horror from the grisly crest. But +direst and most hateful of all in the eyes of the yet undaunted earl, +thither, plainly visible, riding scarcely a yard before him, with the +cognizance of Clare wrought on his gay mantle, and in all the pomp and +bravery of a holiday suit, came the perjured Clarence. Conflict now it +could scarce be called: as well might the Dane have rolled back the sea +from his footstool, as Warwick and his disordered troop (often and aye, +dazzled here by Oxford’s star, there by Edward’s sun, dealing random +blows against each other) have resisted the general whirl and torrent +of the surrounding foe. To add to the rout, Somerset and the on-guard +of his wing had been marching towards the earl at the very time that the +cry of “treason” had struck their ears, and Edward’s charge was made; +these men, nearly all Lancastrians, and ever doubting Montagu, if not +Warwick, with the example of Clarence and the Archbishop of York fresh +before them, lost heart at once,--Somerset himself headed the flight of +his force. + +“All is lost!” said Montagu, as side by side with Warwick the brothers +fronted the foe, and for one moment stayed the rush. + +“Not yet,” returned the earl; “a band of my northern archers still guard +yon wood; I know them,--they will fight to the last gasp! Thither, then, +with what men we may. You so marshal our soldiers, and I will make good +the retreat. Where is Sir Marmaduke Nevile?” + +“Here!” + +“Horsed again, young cousin! I give thee a perilous commission. Take the +path down the hill; the mists thicken in the hollows, and may hide thee. +Overtake Somerset; he hath fled westward, and tell him, from me, if +he can yet rally but one troop of horse--but one--and charge Edward +suddenly in the rear, he will yet redeem all. If he refuse, the ruin of +his king and the slaughter of the brave men he deserts be on his head! +Swift, a tout bride, Marmaduke. Yet one word,” added the earl, in +a whisper,--“if you fail with Somerset, come not back, make to the +Sanctuary. You are too young to die, cousin! Away! keep to the hollows +of the chase.” + +As the knight vanished, Warwick turned to his comrades “Bold nephew +Fitzhugh, and ye brave riders round me,--so we are fifty knights! Haste +thou, Montagu, to the wood! the wood!” + +So noble in that hero age was the Individual MAN, even amidst the +multitudes massed by war, that history vies with romance in showing how +far a single sword could redress the scale of war. While Montagu, +with rapid dexterity, and a voice yet promising victory, drew back the +remnant of the lines, and in serried order retreated to the outskirts +of the wood, Warwick and his band of knights protected the movement +from the countless horsemen who darted forth from Edward’s swarming +and momently thickening ranks. Now dividing and charging singly, now +rejoining, and breast to breast, they served to divert and perplex and +harass the eager enemy. And never in all his wars, in all the former +might of his indomitable arm, had Warwick so excelled the martial +chivalry of his age, as in that eventful and crowning hour. Thrice +almost alone he penetrated into the very centre of Edward’s body-guard, +literally felling to the earth all before him. Then perished by his +battle-axe Lord Cromwell and the redoubted Lord of Say; then, no longer +sparing even the old affection, Gloucester was hurled to the ground. The +last time he penetrated even to Edward himself, smiting down the king’s +standard-bearer, unhorsing Hastings, who threw himself on his path; +and Edward, setting his teeth in stern joy as he saw him, rose in his +stirrups, and for a moment the mace of the king, the axe of the earl, +met as thunder encounters thunder; but then a hundred knights rushed +into the rescue, and robbed the baffled avenger of his prey. Thus +charging and retreating, driving back with each charge farther and +farther the mighty multitude hounding on to the lion’s death, this +great chief and his devoted knights, though terribly reduced in number, +succeeded at last in covering Montagu’s skilful retreat; and when they +gained the outskirts of the wood, and dashed through the narrow opening +between the barricades, the Yorkshire archers approved their lord’s +trust, and, shouting, as to a marriage feast, hailed his coming. + +But few, alas! of his fellow-horsemen had survived that marvellous +enterprise of valour and despair. Of the fifty knights who had shared +its perils, eleven only gained the wood; and, though in this number +the most eminent (save Sir John Coniers, either slain or fled) might +be found, their horses, more exposed than themselves, were for the most +part wounded and unfit for further service. At this time the sun again, +and suddenly as before, broke forth,--not now with a feeble glimmer, but +a broad and almost a cheerful beam, which sufficed to give a fuller view +than the day had yet afforded of the state and prospects of the field. + +To the right and to the left, what remained of the cavalry of Warwick +were seen flying fast,--gone the lances of Oxford, the bills of +Somerset. Exeter, pierced by the shaft of Alwyn, was lying cold and +insensible, remote from the contest, and deserted even by his squires. + +In front of the archers and such men as Montagu had saved from the +sword, halted the immense and murmuring multitude of Edward, their +thousand banners glittering in the sudden sun; for, as Edward beheld +the last wrecks of his foe, stationed near the covert, his desire of +consummating victory and revenge made him cautious, and, fearing an +ambush, he had abruptly halted. + +When the scanty followers of the earl thus beheld the immense force +arrayed for their destruction, and saw the extent of their danger, and +their loss,--here the handful, there the multitude,--a simultaneous +exclamation of terror and dismay broke from their ranks. + +“Children!” cried Warwick, “droop not! Henry at Agincourt had worse odds +than we!” + +But the murmur among the archers, the lealest part of the earl’s +retainers, continued, till there stepped forth their captain, a gray old +man, but still sinewy and unbent, the iron relic of a hundred battles. + +“Back to your men, Mark Forester!” said the earl, sternly. + +The old man obeyed not. He came on to Warwick, and fell on his knees +beside his stirrup. + +“Fly, my lord! escape is possible for you and your riders. Fly through +the wood, we will screen your path with our bodies. Your children, +father of your followers, your children of Middleham, ask no better fate +than to die for you! Is it not so?” and the old man, rising, turned to +those in hearing. They answered by a general acclamation. + +“Mark Forester speaks well,” said Montagu. “On you depends the last hope +of Lancaster. We may yet join Oxford and Somerset! This way through the +wood,--come!” and he laid his hand on the earl’s rein. + +“Knights and sirs,” said the earl, dismounting, and partially raising +his visor as he turned to the horsemen, “let those who will, fly with +Lord Montagu! Let those who, in a just cause, never despair of victory, +nor, even at the worst, fear to face their Maker, fresh from the +glorious death of heroes, dismount with me!” Every knight sprang from +his steed, Montagu the first. “Comrades!” continued the earl, then +addressing the retainers, “when the children fight for a father’s +honour, the father flies not from the peril into which he has drawn the +children. What to me were life, stained by the blood of mine own beloved +retainers, basely deserted by their chief? Edward has proclaimed that he +will spare none. Fool! he gives us, then, the superhuman mightiness +of despair! To your bows!--one shaft--if it pierce the joints of +the tyrant’s mail--one shaft may scatter yon army to the winds! Sir +Marmaduke has gone to rally noble Somerset and his riders; if we make +good our defence one little hour, the foe may be yet smitten in the +rear, and the day retrieved! Courage and heart then!” Here the earl +lifted his visor to the farthest bar, and showed his cheerful face--“Is +this the face of a man who thinks all hope is gone?” + +In this interval, the sudden sunshine revealed to King Henry, where +he stood, the dispersion of his friends. To the rear of the palisades, +which protected the spot where he was placed, already grouped “the +lookers-on and no fighters,” as the chronicler [Fabyan] words it, who, +as the guns slackened, ventured forth to learn the news, and who now, +filling the churchyard of Hadley, strove hard to catch a peep of Henry +the saint, or of Bungey the sorcerer. Mingled with these gleamed the +robes of the tymbesteres, pressing nearer and nearer to the barriers, +as wolves, in the instinct of blood, come nearer and nearer round the +circling watch-fire of some northern travellers. At this time the friar, +turning to one of the guards who stood near him, said, “The mists are +needed no more now; King Edward hath got the day, eh?” + +“Certes, great master,” quoth the guard, “nothing now lacks to the +king’s triumph except the death of the earl.” + +“Infamous nigromancer, hear that!” cried Bungey to Adam. “What now +avail thy bombards and thy talisman! Hark yet--tell me the secret of the +last,--of the damnable engine under my feet, and I may spare thy life.” + +Adam shrugged his shoulders in impatient disdain. “Unless I gave thee my +science, my secret were profitless to thee. Villain and numskull, do thy +worst.” + +The friar made a sign to a soldier who stood behind Adam, and the +soldier silently drew the end of the rope which girded the scholar’s +neck round a bough of the leafless tree. “Hold!” whispered the friar, +“not till I give the word. The earl may recover himself yet,” he +added to himself; and therewith he began once more to vociferate his +incantations. Meanwhile the eyes of Sibyll had turned for a moment from +her father; for the burst of sunshine, lighting up the valley below, had +suddenly given to her eyes, in the distance, the gable-ends of the +old farmhouse, with the wintry orchard,--no longer, alas! smiling with +starry blossoms. Far remote from the battlefield was that abode of +peace,--that once happy home, where she had watched the coming of the +false one! + +Loftier and holier were the thoughts of the fated king. He had turned +his face from the field, and his eyes were fixed upon the tower of the +church behind. And while he so gazed, the knoll from the belfry began +solemnly to chime. It was now near the hour of the Sabbath prayers, and +amidst horror and carnage, still the holy custom was not suspended. + +“Hark!” said the king, mournfully, “that chime summons many a soul to +God!” + +While thus the scene on the eminence of Hadley, Edward, surrounded by +Hastings, Gloucester, and his principal captains, took advantage of the +unexpected sunshine to scan the foe and its position, with the eye of +his intuitive genius for all that can slaughter man. “This day,” he +said, “brings no victory, assures no crown, if Warwick escape alive. +To you, Lovell and Ratcliffe, I intrust two hundred knights,--your sole +care the head of the rebel earl!” + +“And Montagu?” said Ratcliffe. + +“Montagu? Nay, poor Montagu, I loved him as well once as my own mother’s +son; and Montagu,” he muttered to himself, “I never wronged, and +therefore him I can forgive. Spare the marquis.--I mislike that wood; +they must have more force within than that handful on the skirts +betrays. Come hither, D’Eyncourt.” + +And a few minutes afterwards, Warwick and his men saw two parties +of horse leave the main body, one for the right hand, one the left, +followed by long detachments of pikes, which they protected; and then +the central array marched slowly and steadily on towards the scanty foe. +The design was obvious,--to surround on all sides the enemy, driven to +its last desperate bay. But Montagu and his brother had not been idle in +the breathing-pause; they had planted the greater portion of the archers +skilfully among the trees. They had placed their pikemen on the verge of +the barricades made by sharp stakes and fallen timber, and where their +rampart was unguarded by the pass which had been left free for the +horsemen, Hilyard and his stoutest fellows took their post, filling the +gap with breasts of iron. + +And now, as with horns and clarions, with a sea of plumes and spears and +pennons, the multitudinous deathsmen came on, Warwick, towering in the +front, not one feather on his eagle crest despoiled or shorn, stood, +dismounted, his visor still raised, by his renowned steed. Some of the +men had by Warwick’s order removed the mail from the destrier’s breast; +and the noble animal, relieved from the weight, seemed as unexhausted +as its rider; save where the champed foam had bespecked its glossy hide, +not a hair was turned; and the on-guard of the Yorkists heard its fiery +snort as they moved slowly on. This figure of horse and horseman +stood prominently forth amidst the little band. And Lovell, riding by +Ratcliffe’s side, whispered, “Beshrew me, I would rather King Edward had +asked for mine own head than that gallant earl’s!” + +“Tush, youth,” said the inexorable Ratcliffe, “I care not of what steps +the ladder of mine ambition may be made!” + +While they were thus speaking, Warwick, turning to Montagu and his +knights, said,-- + +“Our sole hope is in the courage of our men. And, as at Towton, when +I gave the throne to yon false man, I slew, with my own hand, my noble +Malech, to show that on that spot I would win or die, and by that +sacrifice so fired the soldiers, that we turned the day, so now--oh, +gentlemen, in another hour ye would jeer me, for my hand fails: this +hand that the poor beast hath so often fed from! Saladin, last of thy +race, serve me now in death as in life. Not for my sake, oh noblest +steed that ever bore a knight,--not for mine this offering!” + +He kissed the destrier on his frontal, and Saladin, as if conscious +of the coming blow, bent his proud crest humbly, and licked his lord’s +steel-clad hand. So associated together had been horse and horseman, +that had it been a human sacrifice, the bystanders could not have been +more moved. And when, covering the charger’s eyes with one hand, the +earl’s dagger descended, bright and rapid, a groan went through the +ranks. But the effect was unspeakable! The men knew at once that to +them, and them alone, their lord intrusted his fortunes and his life; +they were nerved to more than mortal daring. No escape for Warwick--why, +then, in Warwick’s person they lived and died! Upon foe as upon friend, +the sacrifice produced all that could tend to strengthen the last refuge +of despair. Even Edward, where he rode in the van, beheld and knew the +meaning of the deed. Victorious Towton rushed back upon his memory with +a thrill of strange terror and remorse. + +“He will die as he has lived,” said Gloucester, with admiration. “If I +live for such a field, God grant me such a death!” + +As the words left the duke’s lips, and Warwick, one foot on his dumb +friend’s corpse, gave the mandate, a murderous discharge from the +archers in the covert rattled against the line of the Yorkists, and the +foe, still advancing, stepped over a hundred corpses to the conflict. +Despite the vast preponderance of numbers, the skill of Warwick’s +archers, the strength of his position, the obstacle to the cavalry made +by the barricades, rendered the attack perilous in the extreme. + +But the orders of Edward were prompt and vigorous. He cared not for the +waste of life, and as one rank fell, another rushed on. High before +the barricades stood Montagu, Warwick, and the rest of that indomitable +chivalry, the flower of the ancient Norman heroism. As idly beat the +waves upon a rock as the ranks of Edward upon that serried front of +steel. The sun still shone in heaven, and still Edward’s conquest was +unassured. Nay, if Marmaduke could yet bring back the troops of Somerset +upon the rear of the foe, Montagu and the earl felt that the victory +might be for them. And often the earl paused, to hearken for the cry of +“Somerset” on the gale, and often Montagu raised his visor to look for +the banners and the spears of the Lancastrian duke. And ever, as the +earl listened and Montagu scanned the field, larger and larger seemed to +spread the armament of Edward. The regiment which boasted the stubborn +energy of Alwyn was now in movement, and, encouraged by the young +Saxon’s hardihood, the Londoners marched on, unawed by the massacre +of their predecessors. But Alwyn, avoiding the quarter defended by the +knights, defiled a little towards the left, where his quick eye, inured +to the northern fogs, had detected the weakness of the barricade in the +spot where Hilyard was stationed; and this pass Alwyn (discarding the +bow) resolved to attempt at the point of the pike, the weapon answering +to our modern bayonet. The first rush which he headed was so impetuous +as to effect an entry. The weight of the numbers behind urged on the +foremost, and Hilyard had not sufficient space for the sweep of the +two-handed sword which had done good work that day. While here the +conflict became fierce and doubtful, the right wing led by D’Eyncourt +had pierced the wood, and, surprised to discover no ambush, fell upon +the archers in the rear. The scene was now inexpressibly terrific; cries +and groans, and the ineffable roar and yell of human passion, resounded +demonlike through the shade of the leafless trees. And at this moment, +the provident and rapid generalship of Edward had moved up one of his +heavy bombards. Warwick and Montagu and most of the knights were called +from the barricades to aid the archers thus assailed behind; but an +instant before that defence was shattered into air by the explosion +of the bombard. In another minute horse and foot rushed through the +opening. And amidst all the din was heard the voice of Edward, “Strike, +and spare not; we win the day!” “We win the day! victory! victory!” + repeated the troops behind. Rank caught the sound from rank, and file +from file; it reached the captive Henry, and he paused in prayer; it +reached the ruthless friar, and he gave the sign to the hireling at his +shoulder; it reached the priest as he entered, unmoved, the church +of Hadley. And the bell, changing its note into a quicker and sweeter +chime, invited the living to prepare for death, and the soul to rise +above the cruelty and the falsehood, and the pleasure and the pomp, +and the wisdom and the glory of the world! And suddenly, as the +chime ceased, there was heard, from the eminence hard by, a shriek of +agony,--a female shriek,--drowned by the roar of a bombard in the field +below. + +On pressed the Yorkists through the pass forced by Alwyn. “Yield thee, +stout fellow,” said the bold trader to Hilyard, whose dogged energy, +resembling his own, moved his admiration, and in whom, by the accent in +which Robin called his men, he recognized a north-countryman; “yield, +and I will see that thou goest safe in life and limb. Look round, ye are +beaten.” + +“Fool!” answered Hilyard, setting his teeth, “the People are never +beaten!” And as the words left his lips, the shot from the recharged +bombard shattered him piecemeal. + +“On for London and the crown!” cried Alwyn,--“the citizens are the +People!” + +At this time, through the general crowd of the Yorkists, Ratcliffe and +Lovell, at the head of their appointed knights, galloped forward to +accomplish their crowning mission. + +Behind the column which still commemorates “the great battle” of that +day, stretches now a trilateral patch of pasture-land, which faces a +small house. At that time this space was rough forest-ground, and +where now, in the hedge, rise two small trees, types of the diminutive +offspring of our niggard and ignoble civilization, rose then two huge +oaks, coeval with the warriors of the Norman Conquest. They grew close +together; yet, though their roots interlaced, though their branches +mingled, one had not taken nourishment from the other. They stood, equal +in height and grandeur, the twin giants of the wood. Before these +trees, whose ample trunks protected them from the falchions in the rear, +Warwick and Montagu took their last post. In front rose, literally, +mounds of the slain, whether of foe or friend; for round the two +brothers to the last had gathered the brunt of war, and they towered +now, almost solitary in valour’s sublime despair, amidst the wrecks of +battle and against the irresistible march of fate. As side by side they +had gained this spot, and the vulgar assailants drew back, leaving the +bodies of the dead their last defence from death, they turned their +visors to each other, as for one latest farewell on earth. + +“Forgive me, Richard,” said Montagu,--“forgive me thy death; had I not +so blindly believed in Clarence’s fatal order, the savage Edward had +never passed alive through the pass of Pontefract.” + +“Blame not thyself,” replied Warwick. “We are but the instruments of +a wiser Will. God assoil thee, brother mine. We leave this world to +tyranny and vice. Christ receive our souls!” + +For a moment their hands clasped, and then all was grim silence. + +Wide and far, behind and before, in the gleam of the sun, stretched +the victorious armament, and that breathing-pause sufficed to show the +grandeur of their resistance,--the grandest of all spectacles, even in +its hopeless extremity,--the defiance of brave hearts to the brute force +of the many. Where they stood they were visible to thousands, but not a +man stirred against them. The memory of Warwick’s past achievements, the +consciousness of his feats that day, all the splendour of his fortunes +and his name, made the mean fear to strike, and the brave ashamed to +murder! The gallant D’Eyncourt sprang from his steed, and advanced to +the spot. His followers did the same. + +“Yield, my lords, yield! Ye have done all that men could do!” + +“Yield, Montagu,” whispered Warwick. “Edward can harm not thee. Life has +sweets; so they say, at least.” + +“Not with power and glory gone.--We yield not, Sir Knight,” answered the +marquis, in a calm tone. + +“Then die, and make room for the new men whom ye so have scorned!” + exclaimed a fierce voice; and Ratcliffe, who had neared the spot, +dismounted and hallooed on his bloodhounds. + +Seven points might the shadow have traversed on the dial, and, before +Warwick’s axe and Montagu’s sword, seven souls had gone to judgment. In +that brief crisis, amidst the general torpor and stupefaction and awe of +the bystanders, round one little spot centred still a war. + +But numbers rushed on numbers, as the fury of conflict urged on the +lukewarm. Montagu was beaten to his knee, Warwick covered him with his +body; a hundred axes resounded on the earl’s stooping casque, a hundred +blades gleamed round the joints of his harness. A simultaneous cry was +heard; over the mounds of the slain, through the press into the shadow +of the oaks, dashed Gloucester’s charger. The conflict had ceased, the +executioners stood mute in a half-circle. Side by side, axe and sword +still griped in their iron hands, lay Montagu and Warwick. + +The young duke, his visor raised, contemplated the fallen foes in +silence. Then dismounting, he unbraced with his own hand the earl’s +helmet. Revived for a moment by the air, the hero’s eyes unclosed, his +lips moved, he raised, with a feeble effort, the gory battle-axe, +and the armed crowd recoiled in terror. But the earl’s soul, dimly +conscious, and about to part, had escaped from that scene of strife, its +later thoughts of wrath and vengeance, to more gentle memories, to such +memories as fade the last from true and manly hearts! + +“Wife! child!” murmured the earl, indistinctly. “Anne! Anne! Dear ones, +God comfort ye!” And with these words the breath went, the head fell +heavily on its mother earth, the face set, calm and undistorted, as the +face of a soldier should be, when a brave death has been worthy of a +brave life. + +“So,” muttered the dark and musing Gloucester, unconscious of the +throng, “so perishes the Race of Iron. Low lies the last baron who could +control the throne and command the people. The Age of Force expires with +knighthood and deeds of arms. And over this dead great man I see the New +Cycle dawn. Happy, henceforth, he who can plot and scheme, and fawn and +smile!” Waking with a start from his revery, the splendid dissimulator +said, as in sad reproof, “Ye have been over hasty, knights and +gentlemen. The House of York is mighty enough to have spared such noble +foes. Sound trumpets! Fall in file! Way, there,--way! King Edward comes. +Long live the king!” + + + + +CHAPTER VII. THE LAST PILGRIMS IN THE LONG PROCESSION TO THE COMMON +BOURNE. + +The king and his royal brothers, immediately after the victory, rode +back to London to announce their triumph. The foot-soldiers still stayed +behind to recruit themselves after the sore fatigue. And towards the +eminence by Hadley church, the peasants and villagers of the district +had pressed in awe and in wonder; for on that spot had Henry (now sadly +led back to a prison, never again to unclose to his living form) stood +to watch the destruction of the host gathered in his name; and to that +spot the corpses of Warwick and Montagu were removed, while a bier was +prepared to convey their remains to London; [The bodies of Montagu and +the earl were exhibited bareheaded at St. Paul’s church for three days, +“that no pretence of their being alive might stir up any rebellion +afterwards;... they were then carried down to the Priory of Bisham, in +Berkshire, where among their ancestors by the mother’s side (the Earls +of Salisbury), the two unquiet brothers rest in one tomb.... The large +river of their blood, divided now into many streams, runs so small, they +are hardly observed as they flow by.” (Habington’s “Life of Edward IV.,” + one of the most eloquent compositions in the language, though incorrect +as a history).--“Sic transit gloria mundi.”] and on that spot had the +renowned friar conjured the mists, exorcised the enchanted guns, and +defeated the horrible machinations of the Lancastrian wizard. + +And towards the spot, and through the crowd, a young Yorkist captain +passed with a prisoner he had captured, and whom he was leading to the +tent of the Lord Hastings, the only one of the commanders from whom +mercy might be hoped, and who had tarried behind the king and his royal +brothers to make preparations for the removal of the mighty dead. + +“Keep close to me, Sir Marmaduke,” said the Yorkist; “we must look to +Hastings to appease the king: and, if he hope not to win your pardon, he +may, at least, after such a victory, aid one foe to fly.” + +“Care not for me, Alwyn,” said the knight; “when Somerset was deaf save +to his own fears, I came back to die by my chieftain’s side, alas, too +late! too late! Better now death than life! What kin, kith, ambition, +love, were to other men was Lord Warwick’s smile to me!” + +Alwyn kindly respected his prisoner’s honest emotion, and took advantage +of it to lead him away from the spot where he saw knights and +warriors thickest grouped, in soldier-like awe and sadness, round +the Hero-Brothers. He pushed through a humbler crowd of peasants and +citizens, and women with babes at their breast; and suddenly saw a troop +of timbrel-women dancing round a leafless tree, and chanting some wild +but mirthful and joyous doggerel. + +“What obscene and ill-seasoned revelry is this?” said the trader to a +gaping yeoman. + +“They are but dancing, poor girls, round the wicked wizard whom Friar +Bungey caused to be strangled, and his witch daughter.” + +A chill foreboding seized upon Alwyn: he darted forward, scattering +peasant and tymbestere with his yet bloody sword. His feet stumbled +against some broken fragments; it was the poor Eureka, shattered, at +last, for the sake of the diamond! Valueless to the great friar, since +the science of the owner could not pass to his executioner,--valueless +the mechanism and the invention, the labour and the genius; but the +superstition and the folly and the delusion had their value, and the +impostor who destroyed the engine clutched the jewel! + +From the leafless tree was suspended the dead body of a man; beneath, +lay a female, dead too; but whether by the hand of man or the mercy +of Heaven, there was no sign to tell. Scholar and Child, Knowledge +and Innocence, alike were cold; the grim Age had devoured them, as it +devours ever those before, as behind, its march, and confounds, in one +common doom, the too guileless and the too wise! + +“Why crowd ye thus, knaves?” said a commanding voice. + +“Ha, Lord Hastings! approach! behold!” exclaimed Alwyn. + +“Ha, ha!” shouted Graul, as she led her sisters from the spot, wheeling, +and screaming, and tossing up their timbrels, “ha! the witch and her +lover! Ha, ha! Foul is fair! Ha, ha! Witchcraft and death go together, +as thou mayest learn at the last, sleek wooer.” + +And, peradventure, when, long years afterwards, accusations of +witchcraft, wantonness, and treason resounded in the ears of Hastings, +and, at the signal of Gloucester, rushed in the armed doomsman, those +ominous words echoed back upon his soul! + +At that very hour the gates of the Tower were thrown open to the +multitude. Fresh from his victory, Edward and his brothers had gone +to render thanksgivings at St. Paul’s (they were devout, those three +Plantagenets!), thence to Baynard’s Castle, to escort the queen and her +children once more to the Tower. And, now, the sound of trumpets stilled +the joyous uproar of the multitude, for in the balcony of the casement +that looked towards the chapel the herald had just announced that King +Edward would show himself to the people. On every inch of the courtyard, +climbing up wall and palisade, soldier, citizen, thief, harlot, age, +childhood, all the various conditions and epochs of multiform life, +swayed, clung, murmured, moved, jostled, trampled,--the beings of the +little hour! + +High from the battlements against the weltering beam floated Edward’s +conquering flag,--a sun shining to the sun. Again, and a third time, +rang the trumpets, and on the balcony, his crown upon his head, but +his form still sheathed in armour, stood the king. What mattered to the +crowd his falseness and his perfidy, his licentiousness and cruelty? All +vices ever vanish in success! Hurrah for King Edward! THE MAN OF THE AGE +suited the age, had valour for its war and cunning for its peace, and +the sympathy of the age was with him! So there stood the king; at his +right hand, Elizabeth, with her infant boy (the heir of England) in her +arms, the proud face of the duchess seen over the queen’s shoulder. By +Elizabeth’s side was the Duke of Gloucester, leaning on his sword, and +at the left of Edward, the perjured Clarence bowed his fair head to the +joyous throng! At the sight of the victorious king, of the lovely queen, +and, above all, of the young male heir, who promised length of days to +the line of York, the crowd burst forth with a hearty cry, “Long +live the king and the king’s son!” Mechanically Elizabeth turned her +moistened eyes from Edward to Edward’s brother, and suddenly, as with +a mother’s prophetic instinct, clasped her infant closer to her bosom, +when she caught the glittering and fatal eye of Richard, Duke of +Gloucester (York’s young hero of the day, Warwick’s grim avenger in the +future), fixed upon that harmless life, destined to interpose a feeble +obstacle between the ambition of a ruthless intellect and the heritage +of the English throne! + + + + +NOTES. + +I. The badge of the Bear and Ragged Staff was so celebrated in the +fifteenth century, that the following extract from a letter addressed +by Mr. Courthope, Rouge Croix, to the author, will no doubt interest +the reader, and the author is happy in the opportunity afforded of +expressing his acknowledgments for the courteous attention with which +Mr. Courthope has honoured his inquiries:-- + +“COLLEGE OF ARMS. As regards the badge of Richard Nevile, Earl of +Warwick,--namely, the Bear and Staff,--I agree with you, certainly, as +to the probability of his having sometimes used the whole badge, and +sometimes the Staff only, which accords precisely with the way in which +the Bear and Staff are set forth in the Rous Roll to the early earls +(Warwick) before the Conquest. We there find them figured with the Staff +upon their shields and the Bear at their feet, and the Staff alone is +introduced as a quartering upon their shields. + +“The story of the origin of these badges is as follows: + +“Arth, or Arthgal, is reputed to have been the first Earl of Warwick, +and being one of the knights of King Arthur’s Round Table, it behooved +him to have a cognizance; and Arth or Narth signifying in British +the same as Ursus in Latin, he took the Bear for such cognizance. His +successor, Morvidus, Earl of Warwick, in single combat, overcame a +mighty giant (who had encountered him with a tree pulled up from the +root, the boughs of which had been torn from it), and in token of his +success assumed the Ragged Staff. You will thus see that the origins +of the two were different, which would render the bearing of them +separately not unlikely, and you will likewise infer that both came +through the Beauchamps. I do not find the Ragged Staff ever attributed +to the Neviles before the match with Beauchamp. + +“As regards the crest or cognizance of Nevile, the Pied Bull has been +the cognizance of that family from a very early time, and the Bull’s +head, its crest, and both the one and the other may have been used by +the king-maker, and by his brother, the Marquis Montagu; the said Bull +appears at the feet of Richard Nevile in the Rous Roll, accompanied by +the Eagle of Monthermer; the crests on either side of him are those of +Montagu and Nevile. Besides these two crests, both of which the Marquis +Montagu may have used, he certainly did use the Gryphon, issuant out +of a ducal coronet, as this appears alone for his crest, on his garter +plate, as a crest for Montagu, he having given the arms of that family +precedence over his paternal coat of Nevile; the king-maker, likewise, +upon his seal, gives the precedence to Montagu and Monthermer, and they +alone appear upon his shield.” + + +II. Hume, Rapin, and Carte, all dismiss the story of Edward’s actual +imprisonment at Middleham, while Lingard, Sharon Turner, and others, +adopt it implicitly. And yet, though Lingard has successfully grappled +with some of Hume’s objections, he has left others wholly unanswered. +Hume states that no such fact is mentioned in Edward’s subsequent +proclamation against Clarence and Warwick. Lingard answers, after +correcting an immaterial error in Hume’s dates, “that the proclamation +ought not to have mentioned it, because it was confined to the +enumeration of offences only committed after the general amnesty in +1469;” and then, surely with some inconsistency, quotes the attainder +of Clarence many years afterwards, in which the king enumerates it among +his offences, “as jeopardyng the king’s royal estate, person, and +life, in strait warde, putting him thereby from all his libertye +after procuring great commotions.” But it is clear that if the amnesty +hindered Edward from charging Warwick with this imprisonment only +one year after it was granted, it would, a fortiori, hinder him from +charging Clarence with it nine years after. Most probable is it that +this article of accusation does not refer to any imprisonment, real or +supposed, at Middleham, in 1469, but to Clarence’s invasion of England +in 1470, when Edward’s state, person, and life were jeopardized by his +narrow escape from the fortified house, where he might fairly be called +“in straite warde;” especially as the words, “after procuring great +commotions,” could not apply to the date of the supposed detention in +Middleham, when, instead of procuring commotions, Clarence had helped +Warwick to allay them, but do properly apply to his subsequent rebellion +in 1470. Finally, Edward’s charges against his brother, as Lingard +himself has observed elsewhere, are not proofs, and that king never +scrupled at any falsehood to serve his turn. Nothing, in short, can +be more improbable than this tale of Edward’s captivity,--there was no +object in it. At the very time it is said to have taken place, Warwick +is absolutely engaged in warfare against the king’s foes. The moment +Edward leaves Middleham, instead of escaping to London, he goes +carelessly and openly to York, to judge and execute the very captain of +the rebels whom Warwick has subdued, and in the very midst of Warwick’s +armies! Far from appearing to harbour the natural resentment so +vindictive a king must have felt (had so great an indignity been offered +to him), almost immediately after he leaves York, he takes the Nevile +family into greater power than ever, confers new dignities upon Warwick, +and betroths his eldest daughter to Warwick’s nephew. On the whole, +then, perhaps some such view of the king’s visit to Middleham which has +been taken in this narrative, may be considered not the least probable +compromise of the disputed and contradictory evidence on the subject. + + +THE END. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Last Of The Barons, Complete, by +Edward Bulwer-Lytton + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAST OF THE BARONS, COMPLETE *** + +***** This file should be named 7727-0.txt or 7727-0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/7/7/2/7727/ + +Produced by Tapio Riikonen and David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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