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 beforehim, with a countenance so changed from its usual open majesty, so darkand sombre, that he said involuntarily, "You send me to the doomsman,--Iam 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 ofwonder, ask not the why nor wherefore! This last night gave Edward arebel more in Richard Nevile! A steed waits thee at my gates; ride fastto 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 maybe also the Duke of Clarence, will join their force with his. Mark, Isay not that I am for Henry of Lancaster,--I say only that I am againstEdward of York. Farewell, and when we meet again, blessed be the armthat first cuts its way to a tyrant's heart!"
Without another word, Warwick left the chamber. Hilyard at first couldnot believe his senses; but as he dressed himself in haste, he ponderedover all those causes of dissension which had long notoriously subsistedbetween Edward and the earl, and rejoiced that the prophecy that he hadlong so shrewdly hazarded was at last fulfilled. Descending the stairshe gained the gate, where Marmaduke awaited him, while a groom helda stout haquenee (as the common riding-horse was then called), whosepoints and breeding promised speed and endurance.
"Mount, Master Robin," said Marmaduke; "I little thought we should everride as friends together! Mount!--our way for some miles out of Londonis 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 sawa goodly troop, armed to the teeth, emerge from the earl's house andfollow the lead of Marmaduke. Meanwhile Warwick was closeted withMontagu.
Worldly as the latter was, and personally attached to Edward, he wasstill keenly alive to all that touched the honour of his House; andhis indignation at the deadly insult offered to his niece was even moreloudly expressed than that of the fiery earl.
"To deem," he exclaimed, "to deem Elizabeth Woodville worthy of histhrone, and to see in Anne Nevile the only worthy to be his leman!"
"Ay!" said the earl, with a calmness perfectly terrible, from itsunnatural contrast to his ordinary heat, when but slightly chafed, "ay!thou sayest it! But be tranquil; cold,--cold as iron, and as hard! Wemust scheme now, not storm and threaten--I never schemed before! You areright,--honesty is a fool's policy! Would I had known this but an hourbefore the news reached me! I have already dismissed our friends totheir different districts, to support King Edward's cause--he is stillking,--a little while longer king! Last night, I dismissed them--lastnight, at the very hour when--O God, give me patience!" He paused, andadded in a low voice, "Yet--yet--how long the moments are how long! Erethe 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 whathath chanced; he will trust to the archbishop to make his peace withme,--churchmen are not fathers! Marmaduke Nevile hath my orders; ahundred armed men, who would march against the fiend himself, if I saidthe word, will surround the More, and seize the guest!"
"But what then? Who, if Edward, I dare not say the word--who is tosucceed 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,--Ihave thought of all things; my mind seems to have traversed worlds sincedaybreak! True! all commotion to be successful must have a cause thatmen can understand. Nevertheless, you, Montagu--you have a smoothertongue 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: proclaimto England the foul insult to the hearth of an English gentleman andpeer! feed every ribald Bourdour with song and roundel of Anne's virginshame! how King Edward stole to her room at the dead of night, and wooedand pressed, and swore, and--God of Heaven, that this hand were on histhroat! No, brother, no! there are some wrongs we may not tell,--tumoursand swellings of the heart which are eased not till blood can flow!"
During this conference between the brothers, Edward, in his palace, wasseized with consternation and dismay on hearing that the Lady Anne couldnot be found in her chamber. He sent forthwith to summon Adam Warner tohis presence, and learned from the simple sage, who concealed nothing,the mode in which Anne had fled from the Tower. The king abruptlydismissed Adam, after a few hearty curses and vague threats; and awakingto the necessity of inventing some plausible story, to account to thewonder of the court for the abrupt disappearance of his guest, he sawthat the person who could best originate and circulate such a tale wasthe queen; and he sought her at once, with the resolution to choose hisconfidant in the connection most rarely honoured by marital trust insimilar offences. He, however, so softened his narrative as to leave itbut 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 afew gallant words, he scarce remembered what, had been misconstrued. Onperceiving whom he had thus addressed, he had sought to soothe the angeror alarm of the Lady Anne; but still mistaking his intention, she hadhurried into Warner's chamber; he had followed her thither, and now shehad fled the palace. Such was his story, told lightly and laughingly,but ending with a grave enumeration of the dangers his imprudence hadincurred.
Whatever Elizabeth felt, or however she might interpret the confession,she acted with her customary discretion; affected, after a few tenderreproaches, to place implicit credit in her lord's account, andvolunteered to prevent all scandal by the probable story that theearl, being prevented from coming in person for his daughter, as hehad purposed, by fresh news of the rebellion which might call him fromLondon with the early day, had commissioned his kinsman Marmaduke toescort her home. The quick perception of her sex told her that, whateverlicense might have terrified Anne into so abrupt a flight, the haughtyearl would shrink no less than Edward himself from making public aninsult which slander could well distort into the dishonour of hisdaughter; and that whatever pretext might be invented, Warwick would notdeign to contradict it. And as, despite Elizabeth's hatred to the earl,and desire of permanent breach between Edward and his minister, shecould not, as queen, wife, and woman, but be anxious that some causemore honourable in Edward, and less odious to the people, should beassigned for quarrel, she earnestly recommended the king to repair atonce to the More, as had been before arranged, and to spare no pains,disdain no expressions of penitence and humiliation, to secure themediation of the archbishop. His mind somewhat relieved by thisinterview and counsel, the king kissed Elizabeth with affectionategratitude, and returned to his chamber to prepare for his departureto the archbishop's palace. But then, remembering that Adam and Sibyllpossessed 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 ofhis doomsman; but his conscience at that hour was sore and vexed. Hisfierceness humbled by the sense of shame, he shrank from a new crime;and, moreover, his strong common-sense assured him that the testimony ofa shunned and abhorred wizard ceased to be of weight the moment it wasdeprived of the influence it took from the protection of a king. He gaveorders for a boat to be in readiness by the gate of St. Thomas, againsummoned Adam into his presence, and said briefly, "Master Warner, theLondon mechanics cry so loudly against thine invention for lesseninglabour and starving the poo
r, the sailors on the wharfs are so mutinousat 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 queendispenses 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 dreamthat, if told, is deathful, if concealed and forgotten hath no portent!"
Without waiting a reply, the king called from the anteroom one of hisgentlemen, and gave him special directions as to the departure andconduct of the worthy scholar and his gentle daughter. Edward nextsummoned before him the warder of the gate, learned that he alone wasprivy to the mode of his guest's flight, and deeming it best to leaveat large no commentator on the tale he had invented, sentenced theastonished warder to three months' solitary imprisonment,--for appearingbefore him with soiled hosen! An hour afterwards, the king, with a smallthough gorgeous retinue, was on his way to the More.
The archbishop had, according to his engagement, assembled in his palacethe more powerful of the discontented seigneurs; and his eloquence hadso worked upon them, that Edward beheld, on entering the hall, onlycountenances of cheerful loyalty and respectful welcome. After the firstgreetings, the prelate, according to the custom of the day, conductedEdward into a chamber, that he might refresh himself with a brief restand 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. Thelofty scaffolding of hope upon which the ambitious prelate was to mountto the papal throne seemed to crumble into the dust. The king and theearl were equally necessary to the schemes of George Nevile. He chid theroyal layman with more than priestly unction for his offence; but Edwardso humbly confessed his fault, that the prelate at length relaxed hisbrow, and promised to convey his penitent assurances to the earl.
"Not an hour should be lost," he said; "the only one who can soothehis wrath is your Highness's mother, our noble kinswoman. Permit me todespatch to her grace a letter, praying her to seek the earl, while Iwrite by the same courier to himself."
"Be it all as you will," said Edward, doffing his surcoat, and dippinghis hands in a perfumed ewer; "I shall not know rest till I have kneltto the Lady Anne, and won her pardon."
The prelate retired, and scarcely had he left the room when Sir JohnRatcliffe, [Afterwards Lord Fitzwalter. See Lingard (note, vol. iii. p.507, quarto edition), for the proper date to be assigned to this royalvisit to the More,--a date we have here adopted, not, as Sharon Turnerand 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 ofthe 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 awaitsyou. I have seen, amongst the trees below this tower, the gleam ofsteel; I have crept through the foliage, and counted no less than ahundred armed men,--their leader is Sir Marmaduke Nevile, Earl Warwick'skinsman!"
"Ha!" muttered the king, and his bold face fell, "comes the earl'srevenge so soon?"
"And," continued Ratcliffe, "I overheard Sir Marmaduke say, 'The door ofthe 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 grewthick and dark around the wall; he saw an armed man emerge from theshade,--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 dooron the inner court; there I have already a steed in waiting. Deign, forprecaution, to use my hat and manteline."
The king hastily adopted the suggestion, followed the noiseless stepsof Ratcliffe, gained the door, sprang upon his steed, and dashingright through a crowd assembled by the gate, galloped alone and fast,untracked by human enemy, but goaded by the foe that mounts the rider'ssteed, over field, over fell, over dyke, through hedge, and in the deadof night reined in at last before the royal towers of Windsor.