by Knox Magee
CHAPTER XVIII
RICHARD TRIUMPHS
When Gloucester discovered how he had been duped by the Queen hisfeelings can better be imagined than described. However, he was tooclever a man, by far, to show his disappointment openly, or even to letthe world know that he had been outwitted. He had the audacity to havethe statement quietly circulated, in such a manner as to give to eachperson the impression that he was the trusted possessor of a statesecret, that an attempt had been made to abduct the Duke of York, butthat it had miscarried. "Therefore," said the Duke's friends, "it hasbecome necessary for the Lord Protector, in the proper fulfilment ofhis duties of the high office with which the people have honoured him,to take every precaution to prevent another attempt of the same kindfrom being more successful."
"Yea," said the gossips, who were no doubt paid by the Protector, "'tiseven feared that the King himself may be the object of their nextattempt. Therefore the good Lord Protector, in his wisdom, and byreason of his great solicitude for the safety of the King--his lord andmaster--hath deemed it best that both the young King and his littlebrother, the Duke of York, be placed in safety, within the strong wallsof the noble Tower that Caesar,--though a heathen, was yet no doubt theinstrument of God,--laid the foundations of. And, unquestionably, theLord foresaw just such a necessity for such a strong place of safetywhen he compelled that ancient pagan to thus work for his ends."
When my friend and I heard this news, my children, our hearts wereindeed sad. Remember, my dears, we knew not whether the statement thatthe little Duke had been taken by Gloucester were true or no. At firstwe thought it but a device of Gloucester's to hold the confidence ofthe people; but upon more careful consideration we came to theconclusion that even the Protector could scarcely have the audacity tothus risk the consequences of such a deception being discovered, which,according to the rules of all common sense, it must in time be. Thisconclusion in no wise served to relieve our feelings of disappointmentand sorrow, on the Queen's account. We could not help but feel in somemeasure responsible for the revenge of Gloucester for the attempt madeby the Queen to have her son escape him; for such we considered theconfinement of the Princes to the Tower.
However, on the day following the King's removal to the prison we againvisited the Sanctuary, or rather some of its inmates, and were rejoicedto learn that the Queen had received a letter from Dorset, whichinformed her of the successful manner in which they had escaped, notonly capture, but even suspicion. Consequently we found the Queen in amost happy state of mind. This contentment was doomed to be shortlived, for we were reluctantly compelled to inform her of her son'simprisonment and of the reports circulating about the Duke of York'sattempted abduction.
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However, we had no great time in which to wonder what was Gloucester'sobject in thus causing the young King to be placed under restraint, andthe report to be circulated that his brother kept him company.
The next news to startle the court, and cause consternation among thefriends of the Queen and exultation in the ranks of her adversaries,was the condemnation of the three unhappy prisoners at Pomfret--Rivers,Grey and Vaughan.
Again was it our unhappy duty to be the bearers of this most heavy newsto that poor woman of woe, the unfortunate wife of the great Edward.
"What new sorrow do ye bring me now; for well do I know thatcountenances painted thus heavy with the brush of sadness must be butthe dark covers to another book of woe?" said her Majesty, as my friendand I, whose sole duties now seemed to be the bearing of heavy news,were shown into her presence.
"Uncommon bad news we bring, madam;" I replied; "yet it is such as wemight all have expected, and therefore do I hope that your Majesty maybear it better than thou couldst have done had it been unexpected."
* * * * *
When we had finished the relation of this latest tale of Richard'svengeance on the faithful to the Queen her Majesty seemed stupefiedwith grief. She sat as one who hath just received a heavy blow withthe flat side of a sword,--dazed and benumbed and still incapable ofraising protest against the causer of the pain. Then with her hand shefeebly tried to brush away from before her eyes some cloud that didobstruct her vision. A look of hopeless resignation then settled onher features, and two silent tears ran slowly down her cheeks. A heavysigh, like the parting of a soul from its earthy home and comrade,escaped her, and she asked in a voice in which was nothing but the toneof resigned indifference:--"When do they die?"
"This day, madam; even now."
"I had scarce looked for such expediency," she remarked, without theleast emotion.
"What do ye think Gloucester's intentions may be with regard to my son,the King?" she asked in that unnatural voice.
"Oh, madam," I replied, glad at last to be able to tell her somethingnot unhappy, "even now the Counsellors are met within the Tower todecide upon the coronation of his Majesty."
"And doth Lord Hastings there attend?"
"He does, madam."
"And the Protector, I presume?"
"Ay, madam, the Duke of Gloucester seems bent on having his Majesty'scoronation take place at once; and therefore, at least so says report,he doth attend in person that his presence there may urge theCounsellors to set an early day for the ceremony; 'For,' say theProtector's confidants, 'the Duke desires to have the weight of fullresponsibility, that now rests upon his shoulders, in a considerablemeasure lightened.' But, madam," I added, "it is for thee to judge theweight of these reports."
"Hastings," said her Majesty, without taking any apparent note of myremark, "though he doth dislike me much, still, methinks, is loyal tomy son, if for no other reason than for the favours the boy's fathershowed him, even against my pleasure."
Then, after sitting silent whilst one might tell an hundred, she spokeout suddenly, as though she thought aloud:--"Surely his uncle dare notharm my pretty Edward! Oh, no! not while my little Richard doth remainto be his avenger," she added, with a smile of satisfaction.
The Queen had evidently forgot the presence of her woeful messengers,so absorbed was she in her deep train of thought.
"A pleasant thing it is indeed to be the widow of a King, and themother of a King," she said, again speaking to her heart. "Great,powerful, respected, happy. Ha, ha, ha! Yes, respected and happy.
"Hush! fear not; he shall not harm thee. Thou art with thy mother; andthy mother is the Queen. We had to fly to Sanctuary before, whenMargaret had success. But look how thy father did defeat her, andagain we came to power. Thy father is the King, and a great andgallant warrior. Again will he trample on his enemies. There, there,fear not, all things shall be well, all things shall be well. There'sa good pet; go to sleep in thy mother's arms as thou didst years ago,"and she patted an imaginary child in the gentle, soothing way knownonly to a mother.
I glanced enquiringly at Harleston.
He nodded.
We walked on tip-toe to the door, and stole softly from the room.
The sorrow of this woman was too sacred to be looked on by vulgarmortal eyes.
"What punishment can be severe enough to repay the causer of such woefor his accursed acts?" I asked of my friend, when we were alone in theroom adjoining the one we had just left.
"Fear not," he replied; "his punishment must overtake him.
"Gloucester is clever. But no man is so clever that he can deceive thewhole world for long. 'Tis possible to do so for a time; andGloucester is doing it. But wait," added Harleston; "success is likeeverything else in this world; each man has a certain amount allottedto him when he begins life. If carefully husbanded, and put to aproper use, it multiplies. But let the possessor use it in an impropermanner and the supply is soon cut off. 'Tis like the pulling of aheavy boat through the water, by means of a slender line; if pulledgently, and with great care, success must crown your efforts. Butattempt to force the vessel faster through the water, and the lineparts and the boat is lost. Richard is now attempt
ing to draw in theship of power, laden with the cargo of sovereignty. He hath a firmhold on the line. There are many obstacles betwixt the ship andGloucester. By patience, more than that possessed by mortals, theseall might be removed. But Richard, encouraged by his success inbrushing some aside, will pull harder on the line. It cannot bear thestrain of this impatient force. It breaks, and Gloucester tumbles fromhis height of audacity, to be dashed to pieces on the rocks ofconsequence."
"Dost thou then think he will dare to usurp the throne, now that theKing's young brother hath escaped falling into his power?" I asked.
"Why not?" he replied.
"That which the Queen said methinks is true; Hastings will be loyal;but after the example we have to-day, the execution of Rivers, Grey andVaughan, what may we expect from the Chancellor's influence? Were heto oppose the Protector he might be the next to post to Heaven. No,"continued my friend, "we must not look for succour, from the tyranny ofRichard, to any source but the whole people. They, when they are allunited, have the power to force him to do right. But no single nobleis sufficiently powerful to cope successfully with Gloucester."
"But how long must this crime and tyranny endure, ere a period be putto them?"
"Not long. Richard is now building a tower of crime. Such structuresare but frail houses in which to dwell. Presently a strong tempest ofpopular indignation will sweep across the land; the structure mustfall, and the builder shall be crushed beneath the ruins. He isbuilding it in great haste; therefore it shall fall the sooner."
Harleston spoke with such confidence, as though the whole scene hadbeen enacted before his eyes, that one could not help but believe himto be right.
Just then the girls entered. This put an end to our gloomyconversation, for which I, for one, was glad. The close life of theSanctuary was now beginning to make the effects of its work visible inthe paler hues and careworn looks of the girls' faces.
"Oh, Walter dear, I am so tired of this life of sorrow!" said Hazel,when we had strolled to that part of the room most distant from Maryand Frederick.
"Yes, my fair one, and I can see no reason why thou shouldst forevershare the sorrows and burdens of others, even though they are thetroubles of those which thou lovest well. When the present situationmay change, God alone can tell.
"Remember the promise that thou didst make, when we lived in happiertimes. When our path seemed flooded with the light of Heaven. Thencame this heavy cloud, that seemeth ever to grow blacker. Let us sweepon from beneath its chilling shadow, and let the sun of love andhappiness, as we stroll among the flowers, beneath the trees of ourjoint home, drive away the troubled memories of this heart-chillingimprisonment within the dreary walls of a Sanctuary, made yet more sadby the unfortunate family which here takes refuge. Thou canst not helpthem by thus sharing their sorrows, and it doth but make two othersouls unhappy." As I spoke these words the scene, drawn by my mind asI paced back and forth across my room that happy night of the last ballgiven by Edward at Windsor, when all my ambitions seemed about to berealized, and yet when the first clouds were gathering, came againclearly to my mind. I therefore waited, with the pain of expectation,for Hazel to answer.
When, after a short silence, in which she seemed weighing her reasonsboth pro and con granting my request, her answer came, and was partlywhat I had hoped to hear, and wholly what I had expected.
"Yes, Walter, the promise that I made to thee that night, when we wereboth so light of heart, and which now seemeth such a long time since, Ilong to now fulfil. Yet," she continued, with a sigh, "my gratitudefor those which have ever been so kind to me doth whisper to my loveand it bids it wait, for but a little space, and show them somesacrifice, to repay them for their kindness. Still do I promise thee,"she continued quickly, as she saw my jaw drop in disappointment, "towait a short time only; and if, after the King's coronation, thecondition of the Queen's family changes not, then will I ask my dearfoster-mother for her consent to our union taking place at once."
"Wilt thou indeed?"
"Ay, indeed; though even this I fear to be selfish in me, and lookethas though I cared not for the troubles of my friends, when I can behappy whilst they suffer."
"Nay, not so," I replied, as some of the reasoning of Harleston came tomy mind. "Life is given but that it may be enjoyed. Some accomplishthis purpose in one way; some, another. Sorrow is sent but that it mayteach us how to enjoy happiness the better. We all must have oursorrow. Some have more, and some less of this chastening agent'spresence. The reason for this I know not, unless it be that some of usrequire a more severe training ere we are capable of following ourespecial path in life, without straying off upon by-ways that naturenever intended we should tread. Some, I will admit, seem never to havefound their way. The consequence is, remorseless Nature, who departsnot from her laws, with stern hand of iron scourges him full hard.Sometimes this drives him to his more fitting path; again it maketh himto despair, and, filled with spleen and useless stubbornness, heploddeth on along a path not suited to his step, when there, withinreach of his sight, had he but turned his head, doth lie his own fairway. Some few hills there are, of course; but these are suited to hisstature."
"By my troth thou hast been changed by Frederick into a full-fledgedphilosopher," laughed Hazel. "But tell me the lesson that this shouldteach to me, and why I should not longer tarry with the Queen."
"'Tis this," I replied. "Her Majesty's path is now blocked up withobstacles. 'Tis right that thou shouldst sympathize with her, andcheer her on. Yea, if it be within thy power to lend to herassistance, thou art bound by the bonds of love and gratitude to giveit. Still, it is not required of thee, by either of these ennoblingmasters, that thou shouldst tread her path thyself. Nay," I continued,as I saw a look that told me I had gained my point steal o'er her face,"'tis even wrong for thee to leave the way that Nature chose for theeto cheer."
"Thine eloquence hath won me from the doubt that haunted me and made meto feel ungrateful. But truly, Walter, thou must stop thy bursts ofpoetic speeches, lest in the future thy songs do change the minds ofpeople, and Master Chaucer's wit then be forgot," and she laughed inmine earnest face, until I joined her in her gaiety.
* * * * *
When we reached the Palace imagine our surprise and horror to learnthat Lord Hastings, whilst at the meeting in the Tower, to discuss thecoronation of young Edward, had, through some thoughtless remarkdropped in the presence of Gloucester, given to that most murderoustyrant a poor excuse for putting on a towering rage and ordering theexecution of the Chancellor. Seized as he sat at the table of thecouncil he was hurried, by that murderer, Tyrrell, whose list of crimeswere now being added to with lightning swiftness, to the black-stainedblock within the courtyard of the Tower, and there his head was severedfrom the trunk, and the bleeding trophy carried to the Duke. A fittingmeal it was, indeed, for the vengeance of such a man to feed on.
This speech of Hastings' that had caused his soul to follow, within soshort a time, the spirits of his rivals, who met their fate at Pomfret,served also, as I verily believe Richard had foreplanned it should, topostpone the discussion of the young King's coronation.
"Richard hath pulled harder on the line," said Harleston, when we hadheard the complement of the news--namely, that Lord Stanley had beenwounded, by accident, during the arrest of Hastings. "Another obstaclehath been removed from the course of his heavy ship and cargo. Theline still bears the strain. Wait with patience and expectancy: he'llpull again; observe the result."