Read The Last of the Barons — Complete Page 36


  CHAPTER II. COUNCILS AND MUSINGS.

  The lamp shone through the lattice of Warwick's chamber at the unwontedhour of midnight, and the earl was still in deep commune with hisguests. The archbishop, whom Edward, alarmed by the state of the countryand the disaffection of his barons, had reluctantly commissioned tomediate with Warwick, was, as we have before said, one of those menpeculiar to the early Church. There was nothing more in the title ofArchbishop of York than in that of the Bishop of Osnaburg (borne by theroyal son of George III.) [The late Duke of York.] to prevent him whoenjoyed it from leading armies, guiding States, or indulging pleasure.But beneath the coxcombry of George Nevile, which was what he sharedmost in common with the courtiers of the laity, there lurked a trueecclesiastic's mind. He would have made in later times an admirableJesuit, and no doubt in his own time a very brilliant Pope. His objectsin his present mission were clear and perspicuous; any breach betweenWarwick and the king must necessarily weaken his own position, andthe power of his House was essential to all his views. The object ofGloucester in his intercession was less defined, but not less personal:in smoothing the way to his brother's marriage with Isabel, he removedall apparent obstacle to his own with Anne. And it is probable thatRichard, who, whatever his crimes, was far from inaccessible toaffection, might have really loved his early playmate, even while hisambition calculated the wealth of the baronies that would swell thedower 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 muchtogether, as children, at Middleham.]

  "God's truth!" said Warwick, as he lifted his eyes from the scrollin the king's writing, "ye know well, princely cousin, and thou, mybrother, ye know well how dearly I have loved King Edward; and themother's milk overflows my heart when I read these gentle and tenderwords which he deigns to bestow upon his servant. My blood is hasty andover-hot, but a kind thought from those I love puts out much fire. Sithhe thus beseeches me to return to his councils, I will not be sullenenough to hold back; but, oh, Prince Richard! is it indeed a matter pastall consideration that your sister, the Lady Margaret, must wed with theDuke of Burgundy?"

  "Warwick," replied the prince, "thou mayest know that I never lookedwith favour on that alliance; that when Clarence bore the Bastard'shelmet, I withheld my countenance from the Bastard's presence. Iincurred Edward's anger by refusing to attend his court while the Countde la Roche was his guest. And therefore you may trust me when I say nowthat Edward, after promises, however rash, most solemn and binding, isdishonoured forever if he break off the contract. New circumstances,too, have arisen, to make what were dishonour danger also. By the deathof his father, Charolois has succeeded to the Duke of Burgundy's diadem.Thou knowest his warlike temper; and though in a contest popular inEngland we need fear no foe, yet thou knowest also that no subsidiescould 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 hasbeen ever--the weal of our common country."

  "I may add, also," said the archbishop, observing how much Warwick wastouched and softened,--"that in returning to the helm of state, ourgracious king permits me to say, that, save only in the alliance withBurgundy, which toucheth his plighted word, you have full libertyto name conditions, and to ask whatever grace or power a monarch canbestow."

  "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 thegreatest sacrifice that my nature knoweth, or can conceive,--I willmortify my familiar demon, I will subdue my PRIDE. If Edward canconvince me that it is for the good of England that his sister shouldwed with mine ancient and bitter foe, I will myself do honour to hischoice. But of this hereafter. Enough now that I forget past wrongs inpresent favour; and that for peace or war, I return to the side of thatman whom I loved as my son before I served him as my king."

  Neither Richard nor the archbishop was prepared for a conciliation sofacile, for neither quite understood that peculiar magnanimity whichoften belongs to a vehement and hasty temper, and which is as eagerto forgive as prompt to take offence,--which, ever in extremes, isnot contented with anything short of fiery aggression or trustfulgenerosity, and where it once passes over an offence, seeks to obligethe offender. So, when, after some further conversation on the stateof the country, the earl lighted Gloucester to his chamber, the youngprince said to himself, musingly,--

  "Does ambition besot and blind men? Or can Warwick think that Edward canever 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 princeunrobed.

  "A noble castle this," said the duke, "and one in the midst of a warlikepopulation,--our own countrymen of York."

  "It would be no mean addition to the dowry of the Lady Isabel," saidCatesby, with his bland, false smile.

  "Methinks rather that the lordships of Salisbury (and this is thechief) pass to the Lady Anne," said Richard, musingly. "No, Edward wereimprudent to suffer this stronghold to fall to the next heir to histhrone. Marked you the Lady Anne?--her beauty is most excellent."

  "Truly, your Highness," answered Catesby, unsuspiciously, "the LadyIsabel 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 doltcompared to Clarence. Open the casement; my dressing-robe; good-night toyou!"