The Last of the Barons — Complete

by Baron Edward Bulwer Lytton Lytton

  CHAPTER II. KING EDWARD THE FOURTH.

  The Tower of London, more consecrated to associations of gloom and bloodthan those of gayety and splendour, was, nevertheless, during the reignof Edward IV., the seat of a gallant and gorgeous court. That king,from the first to the last so dear to the people of London, made it hisprincipal residence when in his metropolis; and its ancient halls andtowers were then the scene of many a brawl and galliard. As Warwick'sbarge now approached its huge walls, rising from the river, there wasmuch that might either animate or awe, according to the mood of thespectator. The king's barge, with many lesser craft reserved for theuse of the courtiers, gay with awnings and streamers and painting andgilding, lay below the wharfs, not far from the gate of St. Thomas, nowcalled the Traitor's Gate. On the walk raised above the battlementedwall of the inner ward, not only paced the sentries, but there dames andknights were inhaling the noonday breezes, and the gleam of their richdresses of cloth-of-gold glanced upon the eye at frequent intervals fromtower to tower. Over the vast round turret, behind the Traitor's Gate,now called "The Bloody Tower," floated cheerily in the light wind theroyal banner. Near the Lion's Tower, two or three of the keepers of themenagerie, in the king's livery, were leading forth, by a strong chain,the huge white bear that made one of the boasts of the collection, andwas an especial favourite with the king and his brother Richard. Thesheriffs of London were bound to find this grisly minion his chain andhis cord, when he deigned to amuse himself with bathing or "fishing" inthe river; and several boats, filled with gape-mouthed passengers, laynear the wharf, to witness the diversions of Bruin. These folks set upa loud shout of--"A Warwick! a Warwick!" "The stout earl, and Godbless him!" as the gorgeous barge shot towards the fortress. The earlacknowledged their greeting by vailing his plumed cap; and passing thekeepers with a merry allusion to their care of his own badge, and afriendly compliment to the grunting bear, he stepped ashore, followedby his kinsman. Now, however, he paused a moment; and a more thoughtfulshade passed over his countenance, as, glancing his eye carelessly alofttowards the standard of King Edward, he caught sight of the casement inthe neighbouring tower, of the very room in which the sovereign of hisyouth, Henry the Sixth, was a prisoner, almost within hearing of therevels of his successor; then, with a quick stride, he hurried onthrough the vast court, and, passing the White Tower, gained the royallodge. Here, in the great hall, he left his companion, amidst a group ofsquires and gentlemen, to whom he formally presented the Nevile as hisfriend and kinsman, and was ushered by the deputy-chamberlain (with anapology for the absence of his chief, the Lord Hastings, who had goneabroad to fly his falcon) into the small garden, where Edward was idlingaway the interval between the noon and evening meals,--repasts to whichalready the young king inclined with that intemperate zest and ardourwhich he carried into all his pleasures, and which finally destroyed thehandsomest person and embruted one of the most vigorous intellects ofthe age.

  The garden, if bare of flowers, supplied their place by the variousand brilliant-coloured garbs of the living beauties assembled on itsstraight walks and smooth sward. Under one of those graceful cloisters,which were the taste of the day, and had been recently built and gaylydecorated, the earl was stopped in his path by a group of ladies playingat closheys (ninepins) of ivory; [Narrative of Louis of Bruges, LordGrauthuse. Edited by Sir F. Madden, "Archaelogia," 1836.] and one ofthese fair dames, who excelled the rest in her skill, had just bowleddown the central or crowned pin,--the king of the closheys. This lady,no less a person than Elizabeth, the Queen of England, was then in herthirty-sixth year,--ten years older than her lord; but the peculiarfairness and delicacy of her complexion still preserved to her beautythe aspect and bloom of youth. From a lofty headgear, embroidered withfleur-de-lis, round which wreathed a light diadem of pearls, her hair,of the pale yellow considered then the perfection of beauty, flowed sostraight and so shining down her shoulders, almost to the knees, thatit seemed like a mantle of gold. The baudekin stripes (blue and gold) ofher tunic attested her royalty. The blue courtpie of satin was borderedwith ermine, and the sleeves, sitting close to an arm of exquisitecontour, shone with seed pearls. Her features were straight and regular,yet would have been insipid, but for an expression rather of cunningthan intellect; and the high arch of her eyebrows, with a slight curvedownward of a mouth otherwise beautiful, did not improve the expression,by an addition of something supercilious and contemptuous, rather thanhaughty or majestic.

  "My lord of Warwick," said Elizabeth, pointing to the fallen closhey,"what would my enemies say if they heard I had toppled down the king?"

  "They would content themselves with asking which of your Grace'sbrothers you would place in his stead," answered the hardy earl, unableto restrain the sarcasm.

  The queen blushed, and glanced round her ladies with an eye which neverlooked direct or straight upon its object, but wandered sidelong witha furtive and stealthy expression, that did much to obtain for her thepopular character of falseness and self-seeking. Her displeasure was yetmore increased by observing the ill-concealed smile which the taunt hadcalled forth.

  "Nay, my lord," she said, after a short pause, "we value the peace ofour roiaulme too much for so high an ambition. Were we to make a brothereven the prince of the closheys, we should disappoint the hopes of aNevile."

  The earl disdained pursuing the war of words, and answering coldly, "TheNeviles are more famous for making ingrates than asking favours. I leaveyour Highness to the closheys"--turned away, and strode towards theking, who, at the opposite end of the garden, was reclining on a benchbeside a lady, in whose ear, to judge by her downcast and blushingcheek, he was breathing no unwelcome whispers.

  "Mort-Dieu!" muttered the earl, who was singularly exempt, himself, fromthe amorous follies of the day, and eyed them with so much contempt thatit often obscured his natural downright penetration into character, andnever more than when it led him afterwards to underrate the talents ofEdward IV.,--"Mort-Dieu! if, an hour before the battle of Towton, somewizard had shown me in his glass this glimpse of the gardens of theTower, that giglet for a queen, and that squire of dames for a king, Ihad not slain my black destrier (poor Malech!), that I might conquer ordie for Edward Earl of March."

  "But see!" said the lady, looking up from the enamoured and conqueringeyes of the king, "art thou not ashamed, my lord?--the grim earl comesto chide thee for thy faithlessness to thy queen, whom he loves sowell."

  "Pasque-Dieu! as my cousin Louis of France says or swears," answeredthe king, with an evident petulance in his altered voice, "I would thatWarwick could be only worn with one's armour! I would as lief try tokiss through my vizor as hear him talk of glory and Towton, and KingJohn and poor Edward II., because I am not always in mail. Go! leaveus, sweet bonnibel! we must brave the bear alone!" The lady inclined herhead, drew her hood round her face, and striking into the contrary pathfrom that in which Warwick was slowly striding, gained the group roundthe queen, whose apparent freedom from jealousy, the consequence ofcold affections and prudent calculation, made one principal cause of theempire she held over the powerful mind, but the indolent temper, of thegay and facile Edward.

  The king rose as Warwick now approached him; and the appearance of thesetwo eminent persons was in singular contrast. Warwick, though richly andeven gorgeously attired,--nay, with all the care which in that agewas considered the imperative duty a man of station and birth owed tohimself,--held in lofty disdain whatever vagary of custom tended tocripple the movements or womanize the man. No loose flowing robes, noshoon half a yard long, no flaunting tawdriness of fringe and aiglet,characterized the appearance of the baron, who, even in peace, gave hisaddress a half-martial fashion.

  But Edward, who, in common with all the princes of the House of York,carried dress to a passion, had not only reintroduced many of the mosteffeminate modes in vogue under William the Red King, but added to themwhatever could tend to impart an almost oriental character to the oldNorman garb. His gown (a womanly garment which had greatly superseded,
with men of the highest rank, not only the mantle but the surcoat)flowed to his heels, trimmed with ermine, and broidered with largeflowers of crimson wrought upon cloth-of-gold. Over this he wore atippet of ermine, and a collar or necklace of uncut jewels set infiligree gold; the nether limbs were, it is true, clad in the more manlyfashion of tight-fitting hosen, but the folds of the gown, as the daywas somewhat fresh, were drawn around so as to conceal the only part ofthe dress which really betokened the male sex. To add to this unwarlikeattire, Edward's locks of a rich golden colour, and perfuming the wholeair with odours, flowed not in curls, but straight to his shoulders, andthe cheek of the fairest lady in his court might have seemed less fairbeside the dazzling clearness of a complexion at once radiant withhealth and delicate with youth. Yet, in spite of all this effeminacy,the appearance of Edward IV. was not effeminate. From this it waspreserved, not only by a stature little less commanding than that ofWarwick himself, and of great strength and breadth of shoulder, but alsoby features, beautiful indeed, but pre-eminently masculine,--largeand bold in their outline, and evincing by their expression all thegallantry and daring characteristic of the hottest soldier, next toWarwick, and without any exception the ablest captain, of the age.

  "And welcome,--a merry welcome, dear Warwick, and cousin mine," saidEdward, as Warwick slightly bent his proud knee to his king; "yourbrother, Lord Montagu, has but left us. Would that our court had thesame, joyaunce for you as for him."

  "Dear and honoured my liege," answered Warwick, his brow smoothing atonce,--for his affectionate though hasty and irritable nature wasrarely proof against the kind voice and winning smile of his youngsovereign,--"could I ever serve you at the court as I can with thepeople, you would not complain that John of Montagu was a bettercourtier than Richard of Warwick. But each to his calling. I departto-morrow for Calais, and thence to King Louis. And, surely, never envoyor delegate had better chance to be welcome than one empowered to treatof an alliance that will bestow on a prince deserving, I trust, hisfortunes, the sister of the bravest sovereign in Christian Europe."

  "Now, out on thy flattery, my cousin; though I must needs own I provokedit by my complaint of thy courtiership. But thou hast learned only halfthy business, good Warwick; and it is well Margaret did not hear thee.Is not the prince of France more to be envied for winning a fair ladythan having a fortunate soldier for his brother-in-law?"

  "My liege," replied Warwick, smiling, "thou knowest I am a poor judge ofa lady's fair cheek, though indifferently well skilled as to the valourof a warrior's stout arm. Algates, the Lady Margaret is indeed worthy inher excellent beauties to become the mother of brave men."

  "And that is all we can wring from thy stern lip, man of iron? Well,that must content us. But to more serious matters." And the king,leaning his hand on the earl's arm, and walking with him slowly to andfro the terrace, continued: "Knowest thou not, Warwick, that this Frenchalliance, to which thou hast induced us, displeases sorely our goodtraders of London?"

  "Mort-Dieu!" returned Warwick, bluntly, "and what business have theflat-caps with the marriage of a king's sister? Is it for them tobreathe garlic on the alliances of Bourbons and Plantagenets? Faugh!You have spoiled them, good my lord king,--you have spoiled them by yourcondescensions. Henry IV. staled not his majesty to consultations withthe mayor of his city. Henry V. gave the knighthood of the hath to theheroes of Agincourt, not to the vendors of cloth and spices."

  "Ah, my poor knights of the Bath!" said Edward, good-humouredly, "wiltthou never let that sore scar quietly over? Ownest thou not that the menhad their merits?"

  "What the merits were, I weet not," answered the earl,--"unless,peradventure, their wives were comely and young."

  "Thou wrongest me, Warwick," said the king, carelessly; "Dame Cook wasawry, Dame Philips a grandmother, Dame Jocelyn had lost her front teeth,and Dame Waer saw seven ways at once! But thou forgettest, man, theoccasion of those honours,--the eve before Elizabeth was crowned,--andit was policy to make the city of London have a share in her honours.As to the rest," pursued the king, earnestly and with dignity, "I and myHouse have owed much to London. When the peers of England, save thee andthy friends, stood aloof from my cause, London was ever loyal and true.Thou seest not, my poor Warwick, that these burgesses are growing upinto power by the decline of the orders above them. And if the swordis the monarch's appeal for his right, he must look to contented andhonoured industry for his buckler in peace. This is policy,--policy,Warwick; and Louis XI. will tell thee the same truths, harsh though theygrate in a warrior's ear."

  The earl bowed his haughty head, and answered shortly, but with atouching grace, "Be it ever thine, noble king, to rule as it likes thee,and mine to defend with my blood even what I approve not with my brain!But if thou doubtest the wisdom of this alliance, it is not too lateyet. Let me dismiss my following, and cross not the seas. Unless thyheart is with the marriage, the ties I would form are threads andcobwebs."

  "Nay," returned Edward, irresolutely: "in these great state mattersthy wit is elder than mine; but men do say the Count of Charolois is amighty lord; and the alliance with Burgundy will be more profitable tostaple and mart."

  "Then, in God's name, so conclude it!" said the earl, hastily, but withso dark a fire in his eyes that Edward, who was observing him, changedcountenance; "only ask me not, my liege, to advance such a marriage. TheCount of Charolois knows me as his foe--shame were mine did I shun tosay where I love, where I hate. That proud dullard once slighted me whenwe met at his father's court, and the wish next to my heart is to payback my affront with my battle-axe. Give thy sister to the heir ofBurgundy, and forgive me if I depart to my castle of Middleham."

  Edward, stung by the sharpness of this reply, was about to answer asbecame his majesty of king, when Warwick more deliberately resumed: "Yetthink well; Henry of Windsor is thy prisoner, but his cause lives inMargaret and his son. There is but one power in Europe that can threatenthee with aid to the Lancastrians; that power is France. Make Louis thyfriend and ally, and thou givest peace to thy life and thy lineage; makeLouis thy foe, and count on plots and stratagems and treason, uneasydays and sleepless nights. Already thou hast lost one occasion to securethat wiliest and most restless of princes, in rejecting the hand of thePrincess Bona. Happily, this loss now can be retrieved. But alliancewith Burgundy is war with France,--war more deadly because Louis isa man who declares it not; a war carried on by intrigue and bribe, byspies and minions, till some disaffection ripens the hour when youngEdward of Lancaster shall land on thy coasts, with the Oriflamme andthe Red Rose, with French soldiers and English malcontents. Wouldst thoulook to Burgundy for help?--Burgundy will have enough to guard its ownfrontiers from the gripe of Louis the Sleepless. Edward, my king, mypupil in arms, Edward, my loved, my honoured liege, forgive RichardNevile his bluntness, and let not his faults stand in bar of hiscounsels."

  "You are right, as you are ever, safeguard of England, and pillar of mystate," said the king, frankly, and pressing the arm he still held. "Goto France and settle all as thou wilt."

  Warwick bent low and kissed the hand of his sovereign. "And," saidhe, with a slight, but a sad smile, "when I am gone, my liege will notrepent, will not misthink me, will not listen to my foes, nor suffermerchant and mayor to sigh him back to the mechanics of Flanders?"

  "Warwick, thou deemest ill of thy king's kingliness."

  "Not of thy kingliness; but that same gracious quality of yielding tocounsel which bows this proud nature to submission often makes me fearfor thy firmness, when thy will is, won through thy heart. And now, goodmy liege, forgive me one sentence more. Heaven forefend that I shouldstand in the way of thy princely favours. A king's countenance is a sunthat should shine on all. But bethink thee well, the barons of Englandare a stubborn and haughty race; chafe not thy most puissant peers bytoo cold a neglect of their past services, and too lavish a largess tonew men."

  "Thou aimest at Elizabeth's kin," interrupted Edward, withdrawing hishand from his minister's arm, "and I tell thee once
for all times, thatI would rather sink again to mine earldom of March, with a subject'sright to honour where he loves, than wear crown and wield sceptrewithout a king's unquestioned prerogative to ennoble the line and bloodof one he has deemed worthy of his throne. As for the barons, with whosewrath thou threatenest me, I banish them not. If they go in gloom frommy court, why, let them chafe themselves sleek again."

  "King Edward," said Warwick, moodily, "tried services merit not thiscontempt. It is not as the kith of the queen that I regret to see landsand honours lavished upon men rooted so newly to the soil that the firstblast of the war-trump will scatter their greenness to the winds; butwhat sorrows me is to mark those who have fought against thee preferredto the stout loyalty that braved block and field for thy cause. Lookround thy court; where are the men of bloody York and victoriousTowton?--unrequited, sullen in their strongholds, begirt with theiryeomen and retainers. Thou standest--thou, the heir of York--almostalone (save where the Neviles--whom one day thy court will seek alsoto disgrace and discard--vex their old comrades in arms by theirdefection)--thou standest almost alone among the favourites and minionsof Lancaster. Is there no danger in proving to men that to have servedthee is discredit, to have warred against thee is guerdon and grace?"

  "Enough of this, cousin," replied the king, with an effort whichpreserved his firmness. "On this head we cannot agree. Take what elsethou wilt of royalty,--make treaties and contract marriages, establishpeace or proclaim war; but trench not on my sweetest prerogative to giveand to forgive. And now, wilt thou tarry and sup with us? The ladiesgrow impatient of a commune that detains from their eyes the stateliestknight since the Round Table was chopped into fire-wood."

  "No, my liege," said Warwick, whom flattery of this sort rather angeredthan soothed, "I have much yet to prepare. I leave your Highness tofairer homage and more witching counsels than mine." So saying, hekissed the king's hand, and was retiring, when he remembered hiskinsman, whose humble interests in the midst of more exciting topicshe had hitherto forgotten, and added, "May I crave, since you are somerciful to the Lancastrians, one grace for my namesake,--a Nevile whosefather repented the side he espoused, a son of Sir Guy of Arsdale?"

  "Ah," said the king, smiling maliciously, "it pleaseth us much to findthat it is easier to the warm heart of our cousin Warwick to preachsententiaries of sternness to his king than to enforce the same by hisown practice!"

  "You misthink me, sire. I ask not that Marmaduke Nevile should supplanthis superiors and elders; I ask not that he should be made baron andpeer; I ask only that, as a young gentleman who hath taken no parthimself in the wars, and whose father repented his error, your Graceshould strengthen your following by an ancient name and a faithfulservant. But I should have remembered me that his name of Nevile wouldhave procured him a taunt in the place of advancement."

  "Saw man ever so froward a temper?" cried Edward, not without reason."Why, Warwick, thou art as shrewish to a jest as a woman to advice. Thykinsman's fortunes shall be my care. Thou sayest thou hast enemies,--Iweet not who they be. But to show what I think of them, I make thynamesake and client a gentleman of my chamber. When Warwick is false toEdward, let him think that Warwick's kinsman wears a dagger within reachof the king's heart day and night."

  This speech was made with so noble and touching a kindness of voice andmanner, that the earl, thoroughly subdued, looked at his sovereign withmoistened eyes, and only trusting himself to say,--"Edward, thou artking, knight, gentleman, and soldier; and I verily trow that I love theebest when my petulant zeal makes me anger thee most,"--turned away withevident emotion, and passing the queen and her ladies with a lowlierhomage than that with which he had before greeted them, left the garden.Edward's eye followed him musingly. The frank expression of his facevanished, and with the deep breath of a man who is throwing a weightfrom his heart, he muttered,--

  "He loves me,--yes; but will suffer no one else to love me! This mustend some day. I am weary of the bondage." And sauntering towards theladies, he listened in silence, but not apparently in displeasure, tohis queen's sharp sayings on the imperious mood and irritable temper ofthe iron-handed builder of his throne.