In the Wars of the Roses: A Story for the Young

by Evelyn Everett-Green

  Chapter 8: The Rally Of The Red Rose.

  "Paul! Is it really you? Now indeed I feel that I have reached mynative land again. O Paul, I have wearied sorely for you. Whyfollowed you not me to France, as we planned? Every day I lookedfor tidings of you, and none came. But this meeting atones forall."

  It was the bright dawn of an Easter day, and Paul, after a night'shard riding, stood within the precincts of the Abbey of Cerne, notfar from the seaport of Weymouth. His hands were closely grasped inthose of young Edward, who was looking into his face with beamingeyes.

  It was no longer the fugitive Edward of the winter months, but aroyally equipped and accoutred youth, upon whose noble face andfigure Paul's eyes dwelt with fond pride. Weary and tempestuous ashad been the voyage from France to England--a voyage that hadlasted seventeen days, in lieu of scarce so many hours--yet thebright face of the Prince of Wales bore no signs of fatigue ordisappointment. The weary days of waiting were over. He and hismother had come to share his father's royal state, and drive fromthe shores--if he came--the bold usurper who had hitherto triumphedin the strife of the Roses. His heart beat high with hope and loftypurpose; and in joy at the eager welcomes poured upon him by thefriends and warriors who came flocking to his standard he forgotall the doubts and fears of the past, and looked upon himself asthe saviour of his country, as indeed he was regarded by all hisparty.

  The old comrades and friends looked each other well over withsmiling glances, and it seemed as if Edward marked in Paul as muchchange in the outward man as he had done in the prince.

  "By my troth, Paul, fair fortune has smiled upon you since last wemet. And the gold spurs of knighthood too--nay, now, what meansthat, good comrade? Were we not to have knelt side by side toreceive that honour? Have you outstripped me from the first?"

  "Pardon, my dear lord," answered Paul, blushing and smiling; "Iwould sooner have received the honour at your hands than at thoseof any other. But I was summoned to London, so soon as my woundswere healed, by the great earl; and your royal father himself gaveme audience, to ask news of you (for it became known that you hadvisited the realm by stealth); and after I had told him all mytale, he with his own hand bestowed that honour upon me. Then thenoble earl made over to me a fair manor in the west country, whichI have not yet visited, but which has put money once more into mypurse. And here am I, your grace's loyal servant, to ask no betterthan to follow and fight for you until the crown is safely placedupon your head."

  And he bent the knee and pressed his lips upon the prince's hand.

  But Edward raised him, and linked his arm within that of his oldcompanion, walking with him along the pleasant green pathway of theAbbey mead, not content till he had heard every detail of thatwhich had befallen Paul, from the moment they had parted up tillthe present, and listening with intense excitement to his accountof what had befallen him in the robbers' cave, and how he hadescaped from thence, and had been tended and protected at Figeon'sby the kindly and honest folks there.

  "When I am king," said young Edward, with flashing eyes, "I will gothither again, and reward them royally for all they have done foryou and me. I am glad they loved me still, Lancastrian though theyknew me at last to be. Oh, if they were willing to follow myfortunes and own me as their king, methinks others will not be farbehind! And, God helping me, I will try to show them what manner ofman a king should be."

  For it had been fully recognized upon all hands now that theprince's father was absolutely incapable of more than the name ofking, and it was well known that the prince was to be the realruler, with the name of regent, and that it would be his hands orhis mother's that would sway the sceptre of power, should theLancastrian cause triumph in the struggle.

  And no thought of aught but victory had as yet found place in youngEdward's heart. Was not the great invincible earl fighting on theirside? And had he not already placed Henry once more upon thethrone, not to be again deposed so long as he had a soldier left tofight for him?

  But Paul's heart was scarce so light, although the sight of theprince awakened his loyal enthusiasm.

  "O my lord, if you had but come sooner--had come before the proudson of York had landed, and drawn to his standard a host ofpowerful followers! I know not how it is, but his name is a magnetthat strangely stirs the hearts of men. Ere I left London I heardthat the rival armies were closely approaching each other, and thatthe battle might not be much longer delayed. I knew not whether tofly to welcome you, or to stay and draw the sword on your behalf,and strive to be the one to bring to you the glorious news ofvictory. I cannot think but what the great earl will again bevictorious; but the despatches he intrusted to me, with commands tohasten westwards to try and meet you on your landing, will tell youmore of the chances of war than I can do. Men's mouths are full ofrumours. One knows not how to sift the false from the true. But themen of London--ay, there is the peril--they all stand sullen whenwe of the Red Rose pass by, and scarce a voice calls 'God save theking.' If Edward of York were to succeed in reaching the city--"

  "But he must not--he shall not--he cannot!" cried young Edward,with flashing eyes. "What! shall the proud crest of my greatfather-in-law stoop before the traitorous host of York? Fie onthee, Paul! talk not to me of defeat. Nay, after we have heard theholy mass of this glad Easter day, let us rather to horse andaway--you and I together, Paul, as we have done times before--andlet us not draw rein till we ride into the victorious camp of theking my father, and hear the glad welcome we shall receive from hisbrave host.

  "O Paul, I have had my moments of doubt and desponding, but theyare all past now. I come to claim my kingdom, and to place a crownupon the brow of my lovely bride. Ah, I must present you to her--mygentle Lady Anne. I wot she will not be far off She will be seekingfor me, as is her fashion if we are long apart. She must thank youherself for all that you have done and suffered for me. You willfeel yourself a thousandfold repaid when you have heard her sweetwords of recognition."

  And in effect, as they turned once more toward the Abbey, Paul sawapproaching them the slight and graceful figure of a young girl, inthe first blush of maiden bloom and beauty, her face ethereallylovely, yet tinged, as it seemed, with some haunting melancholy,which gave a strange pathos to its rare beauty, and seemed almostto speak of the doom of sorrow and loss already hanging over her,little as she knew it then.

  The solemn troth plight which had passed between her and youngEdward was almost equivalent to the marriage vow that would shortlybind them indissolubly together, and their love for each other wasalready that of man and wife. As the gentle lady listened to theeager tale poured out by Paul, she stretched out her hand to him,and when he would have bent the knee she raised him up with sweetsmiles, and told him how her dear lord had always praised him as avery brother, and the type of all that was faithful and true incomrade. Such words from such lips brought the boyish blush toPaul's cheeks, and he stumbled bashfully over his undyingprotestations of loyalty.

  Then, as they reached the refectory, which had been allotted by themonks to their noble guests, he stopped short and fell upon hisknees; for in a tall and stately figure advancing to meet them herecognized the great queen he had not seen since he was a child,and scarce dared to raise his eyes to note the ravages that sorrowand care had made upon that princely visage, or the silverwhiteness of the locks, covered for the most part by the tall,peaked headdress of the day.

  The queen recognized Paul at once from the strange likeness to herown son, and her welcome was kindly given. But she was anxious andpreoccupied, having but risen from the perusal of the despatchesPaul had brought; and although her natural courage and hopefulnesswould not permit her to despond, she could not but admit thatdanger menaced the cause of the Red Rose, whilst she realized, asher young son could not do at his age, how utterly disastrous wouldbe a single victory of the enemy at such a juncture.

  The fortunes of the rival houses were trembling in the balance. Thefirst decisive, advantage to either would give a prestige andfillip to that cause which might b
e absolutely fatal to the hopesof the other. If it were true that some battle were being fought orabout to be fought that very day, such a battle might be either thedeath blow to all their hopes or the earnest of a final triumphnigh at hand.

  It was a strange Easter Day for the party at the Abbey. The masswas quickly followed by the arrival of loyal adherents from thesurrounding country, who had heard of the landing of thelong-expected party from France, and flocked eagerly to pay theirhomage to the queen and the prince, and look upon the fair face ofthe Lady Anne, whose position as Warwick's daughter and Edward'sbride alike made her an object of the greatest interest and aperson of importance. Paul was deeply enamoured of the gentle andlovely lady, and received many marks of favour from her hands. Hewas given a post about the young prince, and kept close at his sidethe whole day.

  It was inspiriting indeed to hear the loyal protestations of thefriends who kept flocking all day to join their standard, and therewas no riding forth to London for prince or attendant so long asthe light lasted.

  "But tomorrow morn we will sally forth ere it well be day," saidEdward, in low tones, as they parted for the night. "My heart tellsme that something of note has occurred this very day. We will bethe first to bring the news to my mother. Be ready with a couple ofhorses and some few men-at-arms ere the sun be well risen over yonridge, and we will forth to meet the messengers of victory, andbring them back with us to tell their welcome news."

  Paul had forgotten his vague fears in the gladness of the present,and scarce closed his eyes that night, thinking of the comingtriumph for the prince he loyally loved. He was up and in thesaddle with the first glimmering light of day, and by the time thatthe rosy glow of dawn was transforming the fair world of nature andclothing it with an indescribable radiance of gossamer beauty, heand the prince were already a mile from the Abbey, galloping alongin the fresh morning air with a glad exultation of spirit thatseemed in itself like a herald of coming triumph.

  "The very heavens have put on the livery of the Red Rose!" criedEdward gaily, as he pointed to the vivid red of the east; and Paulsmiled, and tried to banish from his mind the old adage learned athis nurse's knee, to the effect that a red morn was the herald of adark and dreary day.

  They had ridden a matter of some five miles forth in the directionof the great road to London--as it was then considered, though weshould scarce call the rude tracks of those days roads--when thequick eye of Paul caught sight of a little moving cloud of dust,and he drew rein to shade his eyes with his hand.

  Edward followed his example, and together they stood gazing, theirhearts beating with sympathetic excitement. How much might the nextfew moments contain for them of triumph or of despair! for from thehaste with which these horsemen rode, it was plain they were thebearers of tidings, and if of tidings, most likely those of somebattle, in which the King Maker and the king he had first made andthen driven away would stand for the first time in hostile ranks.Together they had been victorious; what would be the result whenthey met as foes?

  Nearer and nearer came the riders, looming through the uncertainmorning mist, and emerging thence two jaded, weary figures, theirhorses flecked with foam, nostrils wide, chests heaving, showingevery sign of distress; and Paul, recognizing in one of the ridersa follower of the Earl of Warwick, called upon him by name, and bidhim speak his tidings.

  "Lost--lost--all lost!" cried the man, addressing himself to Paul,unconscious of the identity of his companion; "the battle is foughtand lost. The armies met on Barnet Heath. The Earl of Warwick, thegreat earl, was there slain. His Majesty King Henry is again aprisoner in the hands of Edward of York. Today he makes histriumphant entry into London, which will open its gates to him withjoy and receive him as king."

  Paul sat rigid and motionless as he heard these words. He did notdare to look at young Edward, who sat beside him as if turned tostone. The second messenger, who had had a moment to draw breathwhilst his fellow had been speaking, now broke in with his share ofthe terrible news. He had seen the prodigies of valour performed bythe mighty earl. He had witnessed the death of that warrior--such adeath as was fitting for one of his warlike race. The testimony ofeyewitnesses could not be doubted. The fatal day had again beenhostile to the cause of the Red Rose, and the mournful cry of thosewho had seen and shared in the fight, as they fled pellmell fromthe field, had been, "Lost--all lost! the House of Lancaster isutterly overthrown!"

  Mournfully the little procession turned itself and rode back to theAbbey. Edward had not spoken one word all this time, and themessengers, who had now learned who he was, fell to the rear, andobserved an awed silence. But their tale had been told. They hadsaid enough. The worst was made known, and not even Paul daredventure a word of consolation, or seek to know what was passing inthe mind of the prince, whose fair inheritance seemed thus to beslipping away.

  Excitement, uncertainty, and suspense seemed in the very air, andeven before the silent little troop reached the courtyard of theAbbey eager forms were seen hurrying out, and the tall and statelyfigure of the royal Margaret stood outlined in the doorway. Perhapssomething in the very silence and confused looks of the littlegroup told a tale of disaster, for the queen came hurrying down thesteps with whitening face, and her son sprang from his saddle andput his arm about her, as if to support her in the shock whichcould not but fall upon her now.

  "Tell me all," she whispered hoarsely. "Do not keep me in suspense.Speak, I command you, my son."

  "A battle has been fought--and lost," answered Edward, speakingmechanically. "Our ally and friend the Earl of Warwick was killedin desperate fight. My father is a prisoner in the enemy's hands.Edward of York is even now making his triumphant entry into London,which will receive him with open arms."

  Edward said no more; he had indeed told all his tale, and it hadbeen enough for the unhappy woman, who had landed on English soilso confident of victory. She gave one short, low cry, a convulsiveshudder passed through her limbs, and she fell senseless to theground. That cry found its echo upon the pale lips of another--onewho had closely followed the queen to learn the tidings of thetravellers; and Edward turned to catch his bride in his arms,whilst her tears rained down fast as she heard how her noble fatherlay dead upon the fatal field that had lost her lord his crown, andhad dashed to the ground the warmest hopes of the Red Rose.

  "Let us to ship again," said Margaret, as she recovered from herlong swoon. "The cause is lost without hope. Warwick is slain. Whomhave we now to trust to? Let us back to France, and hide ourdishonoured heads there. My father's court will receive us yet, andperchance we may in time learn to forget that we were ever princesand sovereigns."

  Strange words, indeed, from the haughty and warlike Margaret; butat that moment her proud spirit seemed crushed and broken, and itwas young Edward who answered her with words of hope and courage.

  "Nay, mother," he said, "let it not be said of the House ofPlantagenet that they turned their backs upon the foe, and fleddisgracefully, leaving their followers to butchery and ruin. Itmight have been well for us never to have disturbed again the peaceof this realm; but having summoned to our banner the loyaladherents of the Red Rose, it is not for us to fly to safety, andleave them to the wrath and cruelty of Edward. No; one battle--onedefeat--does not lose us our cause. My father lives; shall we leavehim to linger out his days in hopeless captivity? I live; have Inot the right to strike a blow for the crown to which I was born?

  "Courage, sweet mother. You are a king's daughter. You have led mento victory before. Say not--think not--that all is lost. Let us winthe crown of England by the power of the name and of the righteouscause we own, and henceforth shall no man say that a subject crownsand dethrones England's monarch at his will."

  These words, seconded and echoed by those of many a gallant knightand noble, raised Margaret's broken spirit, and she began once moreto hope. That day they journeyed by rapid stages to Beaulieu Abbey,a very famous sanctuary in those days, the ruins of which may stillbe seen in the New Forest; and there the party found the wi
dowedCountess of Warwick, who had landed at Portsmouth before the royalparty had reached Weymouth, and had just heard of her terribleloss. To have her daughter with her once again, and to mingle theirtears together, was some consolation, both for the countess and theLady Anne; but others had sterner work before them than weepingover past misfortunes, and as soon as the retreat of the royalLancastrian became generally known, many stanch adherents flockedto tender their allegiance and promise fealty to the cause.

  Foremost amongst these was the young Duke of Somerset, whose familyhad ever been stanch to the Red Rose, as well it might. Some of theunpopularity Margaret of Anjou had early won for herself at theEnglish court was due to her confidence in and affection forSomerset, and his son might well be ardent in her cause.

  Margaret herself was still sunk in unwonted depression, but therepresentations of the fiery young duke did much to give her heart.With him came Jasper Tudor, the king's half brother, and they drewglowing pictures of the loyalty of the western counties; and ofWales, where a large band of troops was mustering for her support;and represented that if she could but effect a junction with them,the whole country would soon be hers, and she would be able todictate terms to the enemy at the gates of London.

  Margaret's elastic temper rose with the encouragement thusreceived, and Edward's heart beat high with hope. The party begantheir westward march, and through the bright days of April and Maythey rode through the smiling land, receiving welcome and adulationfrom all, and reinforcements to their little band from every townthrough which they passed. Small wonder was it that they learned tofeel confident of ultimate success. The young prince, with Paul athis side, would ride through the ranks of his followers day by day,speaking bright, brave words to all he passed, and winning thehearts of his troops as perhaps only the young and frank-heartedand unspoiled can do. To him it seemed almost more like a triumphalprogress than a recruiting march.

  But Margaret's brow was often dark with anxiety. She knew thetemper of the bold Edward of York, as she called him, whom theworld still spoke of as king; and she knew that he would be upontheir track. Any day they might see his banners threatening theirrear, and still the Welsh army was at some distance; and until ajunction could be effected, even their lives could scarce be calledsafe.

  Then at Gloucester a serious check met them. The place was held forthe king's brother, and the gates were resolutely closed againsther. It was here that she had reckoned upon crossing the deep andtreacherous waters of the Severn, and to be thus foiled might meanthe ruin of the enterprise. The sheltering mountains of Wales werealready in sight; but how was she to reach them if the passage ofthe river were denied her?

  Paul had gone forth alone that day, and had not been present whenthe queen had ridden herself to the fortified gates to demand anentrance, which had been firmly and respectfully declined her. Buthe had learned tidings which disquieted him not a little, and itwas at full gallop that he dashed back into the ranks, and soughtthe prince himself, who was looking with darkening brow upon thefrowning battlements of the unfriendly city.

  "My liege, it brooks not this delay," he cried, reining up besideEdward, and speaking in rapid whispers. "The army of York is scarcea score of miles away, and in hot pursuit after us. They have hadcertain news of our movements, and unless we can push on across theriver and meet our friends there, we shall be taken in the rear,and at sore disadvantage. It behoves us to strain every nerve toreach our friends before our foes are upon us."

  "I doubt not that," answered Edward calmly, yet with a look whichPaul did not understand; "but the wide river runs before us, andthe bridge is barred to us. Unless we reduce first this noble city,we must turn and face the foe and fight him at sore odds."

  A look of dismay crossed Paul's face as he heard this piece ofnews, and he silently followed the prince at his bidding to thespot where the leading nobles and generals were gathered togetherin warm debate. The news that Edward was just upon them ran likewildfire through the ranks, and all the most experienced leaders,including the royal Margaret herself, were of opinion that it wouldbe better not to run the risk of a battle, but retire rapidly andstealthily from their present position, and not encounter the onsetof Edward's veteran troops, flushed with victory and thirsting forblood, until their hardy mountain allies had contrived to jointhem.

  But there is something revolting to young and ardent spirits in thethought of flight, and the Duke of Somerset was eager for the fray.He argued that an easy victory must be theirs if they did but actboldly and hastened to the attack. To fly were fatal; their troopswould become disheartened and melt away. Their foes would openlytriumph, and all men would be drawn to them. Edward's soldiers,weary with long marching, would be taken by surprise. It were athousand times better to risk the fight than to play the coward atso critical a juncture.

  And these impetuous words carried the younger spirits along withthem. The prince drew his sword, and riding through the ranks,asked if the soldiers would choose to fight or fly. There couldscarce be more than one reply to such an appeal so made. They drewtheir swords and vowed to live or die with him, and the enthusiasmof the moment was such that all were carried away; and orders wereinstantly given for a march upon Tewkesbury, where it was thoughta spot might be found which would give them advantages for thecoming struggle.

  The troops had had a long march earlier in the day, but theytraversed the ten miles which lay between them and Tewkesbury withcheerful alacrity. Paul and the prince rode side by side in the vanof the advancing host, and Edward looked straight before him withglowing eyes, as if he felt that a crisis of his fate were at hand.

  "At last, my good Paul, we are riding forth to try conclusions withthe world, as we have purposed so long to do," he said, with astrange, flashing smile. "In faith I am glad that the hour ofaction is come. Ere another sun is set some blow shall have beenstruck which shall set the crown of England upon some one head morefirmly than ever it has been set before. God grant the cause ofright may triumph! But whichever way the conflict goes, I pray thatthis distracted land may find peace and rest, and that I may beeither a victor in the strife, or may find a soldier's grave. Paul,will you give me your promise, trusty comrade, that ere I fallalive into the hand of the foe, you will bury your knightly swordin my heart yourself? It were the part of a true brother to save mefrom the fate of my patient father. He has borne dethronement andcaptivity; but methinks I should pine and die, and I would farrather--"

  He gave Paul an expressive glance; but the young knight answeredgravely and steadfastly:

  "My liege, ask me not that beyond my power to grant. We may notwithout sin raise our hands against the Lord's anointed, and I maynot do the thing you ask. Death or captivity I will gladly sharewith you, or spend every drop of my blood to save you; but morethan this no loyal knight may promise. Forgive me, my liege, if Ioffend in this."

  But Edward held out his mailed hand with his own bright, sweetsmile, grasping that of Paul, which he held in his own as he spoke.

  "You are in the right, Paul, you are in the right. Perchance itwere a coward thought; for should not a prince be ready for anyblow of adverse fortune? But ride you into the battle beside me.Let us fight side by side, even as we have always hoped to do. Iwould that you were in very truth my brother, as in love you havelong been. And if I fall whilst you escape, be it your office tobreak the tidings to my mother and my gentle Anne; for methinks,were it told them suddenly or untenderly, their hearts would breakwith the sorrow."

  Paul gave this pledge willingly, though it scarce seemed possibleto him that he should live to carry such tidings, seeing he woulddie a thousand deaths to save his prince from the foeman's steel.And then, with grave faces but brave hearts and unclouded brows,the comrades rode side by side into the town of Tewkesbury, whilstthe army intrenched itself on the summit of a small eminence calledthe Home Ground, not half a mile away.

  Already the rival army was mustering, and the Yorkist troopsoccupied the sloping ground to the south, that went by the name ofthe Red
Piece. The Lancastrians had the best of the situation, asthey were established amongst trenches and ditches, partly real andpartly artificial; which would render any attack by the enemydifficult and dangerous.

  "I trow it would be hard to drive from this ground these brave menthus posted," said Edward to Paul, as the two rode round the campat the close of the day. "They have only to stand firm and holdtheir position, and all will be well. Oh that the night were past,and that a new day had come! I would I could see the end of thisstruggle. I would the veil of the future might be for one momentlifted."

  But the future keeps its secrets well--well for us it is so--andthe youthful and high-spirited young prince saw not the black cloudhanging already upon him. The soldiers greeted him with cheers andblessings; the generals bent the knee to him, and vowed to die towin him back his crown. The light of the setting sun illumined thefield so soon to be red with human blood, and the vesper bell fromthe church hard by rang out its peaceful summons.

  Edward looked round him, and laid his hand affectionately on Paul'sshoulder.

  "This is a fair earth," he said dreamily. "I wonder what the worldbeyond will be like, for those who leave this behind, as so manywill do tomorrow."

  Paul spoke not a word, but returned the look with one infinitelyloving, and together the two rode back to the town.