CHAPTER III. WHEREIN THE DEMAGOGUE SEEKS THE COURTIER.
On quitting Adam's chamber, Hilyard paused not till he reached a statelyhouse, not far from Warwick Lane, which was the residence of the LordMontagu.
That nobleman was employed in reading, or rather, in pondering over, twoletters, with which a courier from Calais had just arrived, the onefrom the archbishop, the other from Warwick. In these epistles weretwo passages, strangely contradictory in their counsel. A sentence inWarwick's letter ran thus:--
"It hath reached me that certain disaffected men meditate a risingagainst the king, under pretext of wrongs from the queen's kin. It iseven said that our kinsmen, Copiers and Fitzhugh, are engaged therein.Need I caution thee to watch well that they bring our name into nodisgrace or attaint? We want no aid to right our own wrongs; and if themisguided men rebel, Warwick will best punish Edward by proving that heis yet of use."
On the other hand, thus wrote the prelate:--
"The king, wroth with my visit to Calais, has taken from me thechancellor's seal. I humbly thank him, and shall sleep the lighter forthe fardel's loss. Now, mark me, Montagu: our kinsman, Lord Fitzhugh'sson, and young Henry Nevile, aided by old Sir John Copiers, meditatea fierce and well-timed assault upon the Woodvilles. Do thou keepneuter,--neither help nor frustrate it. Howsoever it end, it will answerour views, and shake our enemies."
Montagu was yet musing over these tidings, and marvelling that hein England should know less than his brethren in Calais of events soimportant, when his page informed him that a stranger, with urgentmessages from the north country, craved an audience. Imagining thatthese messages would tend to illustrate the communications justreceived, he ordered the visitor to be admitted.
He scarcely noticed Hilyard on his entrance, and said abruptly, "Speakshortly, 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, Iknow 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 stillshorter road to the gallows."
"The tree is not planted," said Robin, carelessly, "that will serve formy gibbet. But were there no words uttered by me that thou couldstnot disapprove? I spoke of lawless disorders, of shameful malfaisancethroughout the land, which the Woodvilles govern under a lewd tyrant--"
"Traitor, hold!"
"A tyrant," continued Robin, heeding not the interruption nor theangry gesture of Montagu, "a tyrant who at this moment meditates thedestruction of the House of Nevile. And not contented with this world'sweapons, palters with the Evil One for the snares and devilries ofwitchcraft."
"Hush, man! Not so loud," said Montagu, in an altered voice. "Approachnearer,--nearer yet. They who talk of a crowned king, whose right handraises armies, and whose left hand reposes on the block, should bewarehow they speak above their breath. Witchcraft, sayest thou? Make thymeaning clear."
Here Robin detailed, with but little exaggeration, the scene he hadwitnessed in Friar Bungey's chamber,--the waxen image, the menacesagainst the Earl of Warwick, and the words of the friar, naming theDuchess of Bedford as his employer. Montagu listened in attentivesilence. Though not perfectly free from the credulities of the time,shared even by the courageous heart of Edward and the piercing intellectof Gloucester, he was yet more alarmed by such proofs of determinedearthly hostility in one so plotting and so near to the throne as theDuchess of Bedford, than by all the pins and needles that could beplanted into the earl's waxen counterpart.
"A devilish malice, indeed," said he, when Hilyard had concluded; "andyet this story, if thou wilt adhere to it, may serve us well at need. Ithank thee, trusty friend, for thy confidence, and beseech thee to comeat once with me to the king. There will I denounce our foe, and, withthine 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 willpatch up a peace between the duchess and you, and chop off my ears andnose as a liar and common scandal-maker. No, no; denounce the duchessand all the Woodvilles I will; but it shall not be in the halls of theTower, but on the broad plains of Yorkshire, with twenty thousand men atmy 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 thepeople's rising that I will head, and not a faction's. Neither WhiteRose nor Red shall be on my banner; but our standard shall be the goryhead 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 weprosper," returned Hilyard, with a bitter laugh; "but the rising willhave some good, if it shows only to you lords and Normans that a Saxonpeople does exist, and will turn when the iron heel is upon its neck. Weare taxed, ground, pillaged, plundered,--sheep, maintained to besheared for your peace or butchered for your war. And now will we havea petition and a charter of our own, Lord Montagu. I speak frankly. Iam in thy power; thou canst arrest me, thou canst strike off the head ofthis revolt. Thou art the king's friend,--wilt thou do so? No, thou andthy House have wrongs as well as we, the people. And a part at least ofour demands and our purpose is your own."
"What part, bold man?"
"This: we shall make our first complaint the baneful domination of thequeen's family; and demand the banishment of the Woodvilles, root andstem."
"Hem!" said Montagu, involuntarily glancing over the archbishop'sletter,--"hem, but without outrage to the king's state and person?"
"Oh, trust me, my lord, the franklin's head contains as muchnorth-country cunning as the noble's. They who would speed well mustfeel their way cautiously."
"Twenty thousand men--impossible! Who art thou, to collect and headthem?"
"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--asoldier's oath--I, a soldier, have often longed to see. Let me look atthee. 'Fore Saint George, a tall man, and well knit, with dareiment onthy brow. Why, there are as many tales of thee in the North as of mybrother the earl. Some say thou art a lord of degree and birth, othersthat thou art the robber of Hexham to whom Margaret of Anjou trusted herown life and her son's."
"Whatever they say of me," returned Robin, "they all agree inthis,--that I am a man of honest word and bold deed; that I can stirup the hearts of men, as the wind stirreth fire; that I came anunknown stranger into the parts where I abide; and that no peer in thisroiaulme, save Warwick himself, can do more to raise an army or shake athrone."
"But by what spell?"
"By men's wrongs, lord," answered Robin, in a deep voice; "and now, erethis moon wanes, Redesdale is a camp!"
"What the immediate cause of complaint?"
"The hospital of St. Leonard's has compelled us unjustly to render thema thrave of corn."
"Thou art a cunning knave! Pinch the belly if you would make Englishmenrise."
"True," said Robin, smiling grimly; "and now--what say you--will youhead us?"
"Head you! No!"
"Will you betray us?"
"It is not easy to betray twenty thousand men; if ye rise merely to freeyourselves from a corn-tax and England from the Woodvilles, I see notreason in your revolt."
"I understand you, Lord Montagu," said Robin, with a stern andhalf-scornful smile,--"you are not above thriving by our danger; but weneed now no lord and baron,--we will suffice for ourselves. And the hourwill come, believe me, when Lord Warwick, pursued by the king, must flyto the Commons. Think well of these things and this prophecy, when thenews from the North startles Edward of March in the lap of his harlots."
Without saying another word, he turned and quitted the chamber asabruptly 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 unitedsomething of the high soul of his brother soldier. But that age hadnot the virtue of later times, and cannot be judged by its standard.He heard this bold dare-devil menace his country with civil war upongrounds not plainly stated nor clearly understood,--he aided not, but heconnived: "Twenty thousand men in arms," he muttered to himself,--"sayhalf-well, ten thousand--not against Edward, but the Woodvilles! It mustbring the king to his senses; must prove to him how odious the mushroomrace of the Woodvilles, and drive him for safety and for refuge toMontagu and Warwick. If the knaves presume too far," (and Montagusmiled), "what are undisciplined multitudes to the eye of a skilfulcaptain? Let the storm blow, we will guide the blast. In this world manmust make use of man."