Read The Last of the Barons — Complete Page 90


  CHAPTER I. A KING IN HIS CITY HOPES TO RECOVER HIS REALM--A WOMAN IN HERCHAMBER 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 beenelected mayor; horribly frightened either to side with an Edward ora Henry, timid Master Stokton feigned or fell ill. Sir Thomas Cook, awealthy and influential citizen, and a member of the House of Commons,had been appointed deputy in his stead. Sir Thomas Cook took frightalso, and ran away. [Fabyan.] The power of the city thus fell into thehands of Ureswick, the Recorder, a zealous Yorkist. Great commotion,great scorn, were in the breasts of the populace, as the Archbishop ofYork, hoping thereby to rekindle their loyalty, placed King Henryon horseback, and paraded him through the streets from Chepeside toWalbrook, from Walbrook to St. Paul's; for the news of Edward's arrival,and the sudden agitation and excitement it produced on his enfeebledframe, had brought upon the poor king one of the epileptic attacks towhich he had been subject from childhood, and which made the cause ofhis frequent imbecility; and, just recovered from such a fit,--his eyesvacant, his face haggard, his head drooping,--the spectacle of suchan antagonist to the vigorous Edward moved only pity in the few andridicule in the many. Two thousand Yorkist gentlemen were in the variousSanctuaries; aided and headed by the Earl of Essex, they came fortharmed and clamorous, scouring the streets, and shouting, "King Edward!"with impunity. Edward's popularity in London was heightened amongst themerchants by prudent reminiscences of the vast debts he had incurred,which his victory only could ever enable him to repay to his goodcitizens. [Comines.] The women, always, in such a movement, activepartisans, and useful, deserted their hearths to canvass all strong armsand stout hearts for the handsome woman-lover. [Comines.] The YorkistArchbishop of Canterbury did his best with the ecclesiastics, theYorkist Recorder his best with the flat-caps. Alwyn, true to hisanti-feudal principles, animated all the young freemen to support themerchant-king, the favourer of commerce, the man of his age! The cityauthorities began to yield to their own and the general metropolitanpredilections. But still the Archbishop of York had six thousandsoldiers at his disposal, and London could be yet saved to Warwick, ifthe prelate acted with energy and zeal and good faith. That such was hisfirst intention is clear, from his appeal to the public loyalty in KingHenry's procession; but when he perceived how little effect that pageanthad produced; when, on re-entering the Bishop of London's palace, hesaw before him the guileless, helpless puppet of contending factions,gasping for breath, scarcely able to articulate, the heartless prelateturned away, with a muttered ejaculation of contempt.

  "Clarence had not deserted," said he to himself, "unless he saw greaterprofit with King Edward!" And then he began to commune with himself, andto commune with his brother-prelate of Canterbury; and in the midstof all this commune arrived Catesby, charged with messages to thearchbishop from Edward,--messages full of promise and affection on theone hand, of menace and revenge upon the other. Brief: Warwick's cup ofbitterness had not yet been filled; that night the archbishop and themayor of London met, and the Tower was surrendered to Edward's friends.The next day Edward and his army entered, amidst the shouts of thepopulace; rode to St. Paul's, where the archbishop [Sharon Turner. It isa comfort to think that this archbishop was, two years afterwards,first robbed, and then imprisoned, by Edward IV.; nor did he recoverhis liberty till a few weeks before his death, in 1476 (five yearssubsequently to the battle of Barnet).] met him, leading Henry by thehand, again a captive; thence Edward proceeded to Westminster Abbey,and, fresh from his atrocious perjury at York, offered thanksgiving forits success. The Sanctuary yielded up its royal fugitives, and, in joyand in pomp, Edward led his wife and her new-born babe, with Jacquettaand his elder children, to Baynard's Castle.

  The next morning (the third day), true to his promise, Warwick marchedtowards London with the mighty armament he had now collected. Treasonhad done its worst,--the metropolis was surrendered, and King Henry inthe Tower.

  "These things considered," says the Chronicler, "the earl saw that allcalculations of necessity were brought to this end,--that they must nowbe committed to the hazard and chance of one battle." [Hall.] He halted,therefore, at St. Alban's, to rest his troops; and marching thencetowards Barnet, pitched his tents on the upland ground, then called theHeath or Chase of Gladsmoor, and waited the coming foe.

  Nor did Edward linger long from that stern meeting. Entering London onthe 11th of April, he prepared to quit it on the 13th. Besides the forcehe had brought with him, he had now recruits in his partisans from theSanctuaries and other hiding-places in the metropolis, while Londonfurnished him, from her high-spirited youths, a gallant troop of bowand bill men, whom Alwyn had enlisted, and to whom Edward willinglyappointed, as captain, Alwyn himself,--who had atoned for his submissionto Henry's restoration by such signal activity on behalf of the youngking, whom he associated with the interests of his class, and the wealof the great commercial city, which some years afterwards rewarded hisaffection by electing him to her chief magistracy. [Nicholas Alwyn,the representative of that generation which aided the commercial andanti-feudal policy of Edward IV. and Richard III., and welcomed itsconsummation under their Tudor successor, rose to be Lord Mayor ofLondon in the fifteenth year of the reign of Henry VII.--FABYAN.]

  It was on that very day, the 13th of April, some hours before thedeparture of the York army, that Lord Hastings entered the Tower, togive orders relative to the removal of the unhappy Henry, whom Edwardhad resolved to take with him on his march.

  And as he had so ordered and was about to return, Alwyn, emerging fromone of the interior courts, approached him in much agitation, andsaid thus: "Pardon me, my lord, if in so grave an hour I recall yourattention to one you may haply have forgotten."

  "Ah, the poor maiden; but you told me, in the hurried words that we havealready interchanged, that she was safe and well."

  "Safe, my lord,--not well. Oh, hear me. I depart to battle for yourcause and your king's. A gentleman in your train has advised me that youare married to a noble dame in the foreign land. If so, this girl whomI 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, "buttime presses, and I know not where the demoiselle--"

  "She is here," interrupted Alwyn; "here, within these walls, in yondercourtyard. I have just left her. You, whom she loves, forgot her! I,whom she disdains, remembered. I went to see to her safety, to counselher to rest here for the present, whatever betides; and at every word Isaid, she broke in upon me with but one name,--that name was thine! Andwhen stung, and in the impulse of the moment, I exclaimed, 'He deservesnot this devotion. They tell me, Sibyll, that Lord Hastings has found awife in exile.' Oh, that look! that cry! they haunt me still. 'Prove it,prove it, Alwyn,' she cried. 'And--' I interrupted, 'and thou couldstyet, 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.' Goto her, manfully and frankly, as becomes you, high lord,--go! It Is buta 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 inreflection; he then said, "Show me the way; thou art right. It is due toher and to thee; and as by this hour to-morrow my soul may stand beforethe Judgment-seat, that poor child's pardon may take one sin from thelarge account."