CHAPTER VIII. HOW THE HEIR OF LANCASTER MEETS THE KING-MAKER.
In truth, the young prince, in obedience to a secret message from theartful Louis, had repaired to the court of Amboise under the name of theCount de F----. The French king had long before made himself acquaintedwith Prince Edward's romantic attachment to the earl's daughter, throughthe agent employed by Edward to transmit his portrait to Anne atRouen; and from him, probably, came to Oxford the suggestion which thatnobleman had hazarded to Montagu; and now that it became his policyseriously and earnestly to espouse the cause of his kinswoman Margaret,he saw all the advantage to his cold statecraft which could be drawnfrom a boyish love. Louis had a well-founded fear of the warlike spiritand military talents of Edward IV.; and this fear had induced himhitherto to refrain from openly espousing the cause of the Lancastrians,though it did not prevent his abetting such seditions and intrigues ascould confine the attention of the martial Plantagenet to the perils ofhis own realm. But now that the breach between Warwick and the king hadtaken place; now that the earl could no longer curb the desire ofthe Yorkist monarch to advance his hereditary claims to the fairestprovinces of France,--nay, peradventure, to France itself,--while thedefection of Lord Warwick gave to the Lancastrians the first fair hopeof success in urging their own pretensions to the English throne,he bent all the powers of his intellect and his will towards therestoration of a natural ally and the downfall of a dangerous foe.But he knew that Margaret and her Lancastrian favourers could notof themselves suffice to achieve a revolution,--that they could onlysucceed under cover of the popularity and the power of Warwick, whilehe perceived all the art it would require to make Margaret forego hervindictive nature and long resentment, and to supple the pride of thegreat earl into recognizing as a sovereign the woman who had branded himas a traitor.
Long before Lord Oxford's arrival, Louis, with all that address whichbelonged to him, had gradually prepared the earl to familiarize himselfto the only alternative before him, save that, indeed, of powerlesssense of wrong and obscure and lasting exile. The French king lookedwith 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--youngEdward's gallant and ardent temper had become deeply imbued with thesouthern poetry and romance. Perhaps the very feud between his House andLord Warwick's, though both claimed their common descent from John ofGaunt, had tended, by the contradictions in the human heart, to endearto him the recollection of the gentle Anne. He obeyed with joy thesummons of Louis, repaired to the court, was presented to Anne as theCount de F----, found himself recognized at the first glance (for hisportrait still lay upon her heart, as his remembrance in its core), and,twice before the song we have recited, had ventured, agreeably to thesweet customs of Anjou, to address the lady of his love under the shadeof the starlit summer copses. But on this last occasion, he had departedfrom his former discretion; hitherto he had selected an hour of deepernight, and ventured but beneath the lattice of the maiden's chamber whenthe rest of the palace was hushed in sleep. And the fearless declarationof his rank and love now hazarded was prompted by one who contrived toturn to grave uses the wildest whim of the minstrel, the most romanticenthusiasm of youth.
Louis had just learned from Oxford the result of his interview withWarwick. And about the same time the French king had received a letterfrom Margaret, announcing her departure from the castle of Verdun forTours, where she prayed him to meet her forthwith, and stating that shehad received from England tidings that might change all her schemes, andmore than ever forbid the possibility of a reconciliation with the Earlof Warwick.
The king perceived the necessity of calling into immediate effect theaid on which he had relied, in the presence and passion of the youngprince. He sought him at once; he found him in a remote part of thegardens, and overheard him breathing to himself the lay he had justcomposed.
"Pasque Dieu!" said the king, laying his hand on the young man'sshoulder, "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 hisdaughter's hand; and before the year is closed thou shalt sit besideLord 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 stoodupon the sward, as, from the postern of the palace, walked with a slowstep, a form from which it became him not, as prince or as lover, inpeace 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, theother motionless--gazed on each other in grave silence. As Countde F----, amidst the young nobles in the king's train, the earl hadscarcely noticed the heir of England. He viewed him now with a differenteye: in secret complacency, for, with a soldier's weakness, thesoldier-baron valued men too much for their outward seeming, he surveyeda figure already masculine and stalwart, though still in the gracefulsymmetry of fair eighteen.
"A youth of a goodly presence," muttered the earl, "with the dignitythat commands in peace, and the sinews that can strive against hardshipand death in war."
He approached, and said calmly: "Sir minstrel, he who woos either fameor beauty may love the lute, but should wield the sword. At least, somethinks had the Fifth Henry said to him who boasts for his heritage thesword of Agincourt."
"O noble earl!" exclaimed the prince, touched by words far gentler thanhe had dared to hope, despite his bold and steadfast mien, and givingway 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 hopeas dear to me as a crown and dearer far than life, can I hope that thyrebuke but veils thy favour, and that, under Lord Warwick's eye, thegrandson of Henry V. shall approve himself worthy of the blood thatkindles in his veins?"
"Fair sir and prince," returned the earl, whose hardy and generousnature the emotion and fire of Edward warmed and charmed, "there are,alas! deep memories of blood and wrong--the sad deeds and wrathful wordsof party feud and civil war--between thy royal mother and myself; andthough we may unite now against a common foe, much I fear that the LadyMargaret would brook ill a closer friendship, a nearer tie, than theexigency of the hour between Richard Nevile and her son."
"No, Sir Earl, let me hope you misthink her. Hot and impetuous, but notmean and treacherous, the moment that she accepts the service ofthine arm she must forget that thou hast been her foe; and if I, as myfather's heir, return to England, it is in the trust that a new era willcommence. Free from the passionate enmities of either faction, Yorkistand 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 gaveeffect 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 whosepower depends less on lands and vassals--broad though the one, andnumerous though the other--than on well-known love for England, herglory and her peace, it rests with you to bury forever in one grave thefeuds of Lancaster and York! What Yorkist who hath fought at Towton orSt. Albans under Lord Warwick's standard, will lift sword against thehusband of Lord Warwick's daughter? What Lancastrian will not forgive aYorkist, when Lord Warwick, the kinsman of Duke Richard, becomes fatherto the Lancastrian heir, and bulwark to the Lancastrian throne? OWarwick, if not for my sake, nor for the sake of full redress againstthe ingrate whom thou repentest to have placed on my father's throne, atleast 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., whosues to thee for thy daughter's hand!"
The royal wooer bent his knee as he spoke. The mighty subject saw andprevented the impulse of the prince who had forgotten himself in thelover; the hand which he caught he lifted to his lips, and the nextmoment, in manly and soldierlike embrace, the prince's young arm wasthrown over the b
road shoulder of the king-maker.