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Las diagrammas suivants illustrant la m^thoda. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 *Mc»ocory risoiution tbt chart (ANSI ond ISO TEST CHART No. 7) ^ APPLIED IIVA^GE '653 Eosl Main Street (716) *82 - 0300 - Phone (716) 288 -5989 -Fax #^ m^.<>^^M) if /:" /iii - ■«] !iv;: ^li •J^l^ ■ »«.w»wsF^>* A' i^ // Ci^ . y-'.'^ I THE PRINCE'S STORY BOOK i THY BROTHHr's CORP.t IS BORNK YONDKR FroHthf'Uct THE PRINCE'S STORY BOOK BEING HISTORICAL STORIES COLLECTED OUT OP ENG LISH ROMANTIC LITERATURE IN ILLUSTRATION OP THE REIGNS OP ENGLISH M0NARCH8 FROM THE CONQUEST TO VICTORU AND KDITKD WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY r-EORGE LAURENCE GOMME ILruSTRATKD RV H. S. BANKS TORONTO GEORGE N. MORANG & COMPANY LIMITED 1!K>2 4 t f If- Butler & Tanner, The Selwood Printing Works, Fromb, and London. \\ O09495S4 PREFACE A THIRD collection of these stories is here presented to those readers, old and young, who delight in something pic- turesque for Christmas reading, which should be at the same time serviceable and sound literature. The previous vol- umes, the King's Story Book and the Queen's Story Book, were so successful that this new collection was attempted, and it appears to me that it compares in interest with its fellows. The quest for stories has been more keen, the difficulties of selection greater now tha'. many favourites have already been printed in this manner, but the mine still yields rich ore. I am told that these books have been appreciated in schools and among people who desire that the literature of the young should be useful and real, and it is with this conception of their office that I send yet another volume to the same, and I hope many more, readers. L. G. CONTENTS Introduction "^^ Harold: The War Princes of the North.' Lord Lyt'ton ""i William I: The Red Prince as Tyrant. / F. Smith. 12 William II: How the King played with the Peasant. XT T ^, Anonymous. lo Henry I: The Oath to Matilda. „ „ ^ IVilliam of Malmesbttry. 20 Henry II: By Order of the King. Thomas Love Peacock. •52 Richard I: How Prince John wooed and lost. , TT , . Thomas Love Peacock. 44 John: How king John was wooed and won. Edward I: How Wallace met King Edward*^''''''''''"^^' ^' T^ J^ine Porter <.?> Edward III: Queen Philippa and the men of Calais.' T> ,^ Froissart. 71 Richard II: Hotspur and Douglas. Anonymous. 76 Henry V: Agmcourt. GPP Ta, s Henry VI: How Prince Edward helped his caW"' r ,,^ Lord Lytton. 00 Edward IV: The Last Hope of the Red Rose. TT ,. '^"" Walter Scott 120 Henry VIII: The Death of Anne Boleyn. ^ „ Harrison Ains^vorth. 147 Edward VI: How the Princess Elizabeth won her first case. J.F.Smith. 167 CONTENTS M«v: How the Lady Jane Grey died, B....B.XH.. How Si, VVa,.er ^Z^:^:^, James I: At ihe Coun of the Kin, t' uf!"' ^""'■ CH«.^ I; A Royal VV™„\'^'"*- ^ ^^ f'"' Common..,™. When the Prince „at Pri^^IatS Charles II- When th^ p • '^"' ^^'^^^'^'' ^'^'^^i- 3 11. »viien the Prince was King. James II: How the K.n^i^Au- t.. ^'*' ^^^^''^ Scott. "-'•■Xr--™-orE„Zdi^- George II: Bonnie Prince Charlie "'?'^;,/?'"'^"'''-'- G^OKOE III: At the endronheXt.""*" """■ V.C.0K.: The new Leader. ^X.^ Pogt 202 236 265 292 302 308 337 349 383 L'ST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 11!!^ ^l'"'^'''' ^^'P^ is home yonder" jr .- • Span.h^yew and the Norman Lltand ^'''''"'''"' "Why do you not know; s,;, that' to'-morrow ^''^"''^- ^^ IS Gamwell feast ? " morrow "The rebel lies before ye" "Arise, glory of Albin. from thy'ci;ud and shine upon thy own- ' "^ i humbly require you-that ye will take mercy of these six burgesses' ' Esperancel Esperancei" * ^ ' ' • •'They gave one loud universal cheer "" ' Wha peradventure. grieves my 'ather' hath but joy for thee- '' ^et me tie this relic about thv nert '.^ ^ youth " ' ^^'^' ^o°d "No union of his shall u^ u blood th ^^PP^' ^"d other Diood hanmme shall flow" ^ hill? demanded Patch" ^he remained, while light last^H ,',r, ' i ' knees" "s"' wasted, upon her ''The v^ueen hastily passed on" ■■■•"" - ^'^S rhey landed at Whitehall stairs"" " ' ' " " " ^'^ " " « 54 » ?. „ 64 " " y 75 " » M So » n „ g4 " » „ /05 " " " ^-/J »» » „ 160 >> » „ IJO thy father's house". "A message I have to you" 11 „ 260 >< » » » „ 266 ^^ LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS "The old cavalier stooped his head, but raised it not again" To face p. 206 "'Tishe! Tishe!". ... ,L And on yonder lawn— she had played. many and many a time" ... -.rr wry ,• , • • It » » ^■'J iwo Jmes-and no more, for the takin battle of Stanfordbridge. in September. zo66. Two Uat wa and'Sar^oM of '/'?'^i ^'^^^ quarrel-Harold ^fS Harold of N "^'°^- ^^"^"e-or everywhere else Harold of Norway met his own conqueror on English soil It was a great and eventful fight and shows forth the chLaJ^r and genius of the great English King in a remarkab e manne. Tcstig. Harold's brother, fought on thH de^f houtl/G^od ^T °'r^^^ ^^" ^"^^--^^ -^ the Ws ca ° Id v 'r" '°T *° «^"^^' ^°"ght and died for h h ifistorv t J- ^'^ "' '^^^^'•^ ^^"'■^^ °"t in Eng. ht Hn^' t r^r^ttLi: ;'" ^t '^r ^^^ ^'-^^^ '^ f^o^v , ^ ^"y ^'■°"' w'lO'" he sprang The tradmonal accoun, of Harold s interview with him is n^ I,..: XIV INTRODUCTION doubt founded on fact, and it tells well for this wayward tyrannical freebooting sort of chief, that he preferred fight- ing to the desertion of his ally, and death to the shame- fulness of defeat and disgrace. The story as told by Lord Lytton in his great romance is true, in most of its details, to the early chronical narratives and we have in this opening example a very perfect specimen of the story-teller's art. For the reign of William I the reader is introduced, not to the great King himself, but to his turbulent and tyrannic son whom, however, he named as his successor. The story is not of course a true one and must therefore only be considered as indicative of the truth. This may be safely done. William Rufus was all that this story relates of him— tyrant as prince and tyrant afterwards as King. The story chosen to represent his reign depicts a part of his character, perhaps, not altogether unamfable in its origin ; and that the Knglish people were not entirely un- friendly to him, is perhaps, owing to his characteristic love of enjoyment among the peasants' games and sports. The famous account of the oath to Matilda fittingly re- presents the reign of Henry I, and u is taken from the chronicle of William of Malmesburv. Stephen is not represented. lor Henry II a charming story by Thomas Love Peacock, referring to the famous Earl of Huntingdon, has been chosen, and though entirely fiction, it illustrates extremely well the political condition of Henry II's reign. Richard I is not personally represented, but the action of his infamous brother. Prince John, during the King's absence in the Crusade is represented by a story taken out of the same rom.ance by Thomas Love Peacock and which is of course fiction only. The reign of John is represented by a spirited attempt by Miss Stanhope to illustrate th« influence of the Queen before she had left the home of INTRODUCTION „« xv Henry III is TJ ^'"^ ^"'^ "°' ^'^'°rical. represented bv « r ^^P'-^^"^^^- The great Edward I i, r«e The Kin?""' '"" "*"' ^°«^'*« -»''—. conceded .nH ?u ", "°' ^' ^'' ^"^ ^»>"e Wallace is mtClL ch "''^ *^' *^°'^ «'°n^ » altogether Edttrd1ir"th' T ''^''''^''^' while for his great son WaUerScotrL'!, "' ^""^ '" » «<"V >aken from Sir PlantLnetsn"; ^"^' '""^ '^'^'^"'"^ "^' ^^e last of the namagenet .mgs, are not represented. rei'n o?He?Tr'° '^' ""'^ '''''' ^' "^^'^ P«-ed over the S. r " ""'•^P^^ented and reached Henry Vlir Readers w,ll note h„. the narratives now change, h^ "e XVI INTRODUCTION f.' event«j are more modem in tone, how much nearer the present age seems to be, how the Plantagenets have been left a long way behind as if belonging to another era. This characteristic of the stories here collected is true to history. The Tudors belong to quite a new order of his- torical life, and mediaevalism with its glories and its I mishes was a thing of the past. The glories and blemish of the new order are now to be told of, and they will be found none the less real if ♦hey are of a different character. Henry VIII, that matchless tyrant and most able man, is represented by a sto taken from Harrison Ainsworth, of the execution of Ai-.o Boleyn. Whether Anne was guilty as here portrayed can probably never be known, but on the whole it is probable she was not. The matter is so doubtful, however, that the romancist is perfectly jus- tified in taking the view he has. The reign of Edward VI is represented by a story taken from a once well-known romance. It shows up the char- acter of the young Kinp and of the Princess Elizabeth very well, and is altogether a very good representation of this generally uneventful reij?n. The death of Lady Jane Grey under the reign of Marv is an event which .s widely known to English romance, and Ainsworth's treatment of it in the story ti/cen from one of his novels is not at all bad. The locul colouring is very good, and Jane is not badly drawn. Elizabeth's great reign 's open to us in the pages of Sir Walter Scott, and the well-known tradition of the manner in which Raleigh used his cloaV is chosen to represent this reign. The whole story is wonderfully told and wonder- fully true of the times, while the character of Raleigh, if a little too butterfty-like to please those who admire his great genius, is perhaps not altogether out of keeping with his early character. INTRODUCTION jjy„ Of coMrse we turn to Scott for a story of James I. What Zrl i^J7 ■''"''■ "'? " ^'''°"'^'^' ^- whatever there ,s to admire m the character of this somewhat dub:ous monarch comes to us from Scotfs estimate H earnmg h,s weakness, h.s charm, are all here. We seem to see the whole thing entire befo.e our eyes so realTs the romancsts narrative, and this gem, known to everyone of course, is worth ; separate setting Sett too does duty for Charles I, an episode in Montrose's picturesque and remarkable career being chosen. For he per.d of the Commonwealth we have another ston^ rl Scott and one which shows Prince Charles in a mo^ favourable l.ght, not too favourable I think, for it is pretty certain that as pnnce. like nil the Stuarts. Charles 11 was pnncely m all things. "Pshawl that cannot i;e now-Co one Everard, I am Charles Stuarf-the words are very noble and very simple and - .tt has only equalled himself in penning them. The episode which deals with Chiles I as King ,s also told by Scott anc is somewhat less known perhaps than other stories. How true it is of this period and of this King, and how Ormonde and Uuckingh" rn stand out m the narrative! The introduction of th grea" scoundrel. Colonel Blood, helps us to realize the peS but IS not. It appears to me, quite happy ' tor James II a slight story by Mrs. Hall is introduced It re ates to the throwing of the Great Seal into th^ Than es and the attack upon Jeffries-both of them historical events W Iharn and Mary are represented in their domestic char-" acters. and this story is also taken from Mrs. Hall's novel Thackeray .s called upon for Queen Anne's reign, and we have a powerful indictment against that infamou but al le general the Duke of Marlborough. The whole story 'LeZ t r"'"'"'' /°"^^ ^"d concentration, singularly true to history and yet beautifully told as a piece of t -f.l .(V XVIII INTRODUCTION romance. It is taken from that masterpiece of English fiction, ''Esmond." George the First is not represented, but for George II Scott is once more appealed to, to give us a picture of " bonnie Prince Charlie "— Holyrood for the scene, the prince's court of rebels for the characters, and of course the story is a good one. In the reign of George III we are taken to the end of the empire and to a writer not yet used for this purpose. Fenimore Cooper. His description of the fate of Fort Henry, of Montcalm's action in the matter, of the ferocious butchery by the Indians, introduces us to the first glimpse of the "white man's burden " as it appears in English history; and it must be admitted that the picture is complete. Finally, leaving out George IV and William IV, I have turned to the pages of Lord Beaconsfield to illustrate the changed character of the times of our own great Queen. Nothing could be finer than this little glimpse into modern times in contrast to everj'thing that has gone before— a contrast so powerful, so true, and so instructive that it easily tells its own results. The history contained in, or represented by, these collections from English romance is therefore very full in its range and very expressive ir its character. The stories are also r^^presentations of English literature, cameos from writers of a; Vjiowledged preeminence whom it is well to understand i ! tiie light thrown by these examples of their work. Chosen not for their literary merit, but for their historical suita- bility to the plan upon which the book is arranged, these s*ories are unprejudiced evidence of the literary style of each author. The authors include Sir Walter Scott, who is utilized so frequently, and W. M. Thackeray among the great masters; Lord Lytton, Thomas Love Peacock, Harrison Ainsworth, Fenimore Cooper, and Lord Beacons- INTRODUCTION XIX Stanhope who are ^L ' '' V*"""' '""' *«*' ''• S. teser amhOT do „oT hf„r" '° .''"'' "" ''"'-■ " 'he Sec. and ThactraT e d"e Z7lTX'" '"^ '''' "' book as a ,vho,e, wWIe HS n c;,,!^!':? *' of comparison. excellent opportunity frot^whth''.^":*:!'"' ? '' """-' - ">e novel -ence is inserted I int"" ^e a 1" ^^ Tn'd 'd"" ^Thrrd':;:hr:j "■=■■ *- "---- itTr ;;d"f:?7o9-~^^ o n1 vtifhT " "*^''""^'' "" '"^ hero name fe» .fe sw s ar.al:?|;:dir "^r'^ '«'»^' which they appear and .W*^ "" "" ™'""'^'' '" respective author ' '""''"' '" "''>' »•">' 'h=ir LAURENCE GOMME. 24. Dorset Square, N.W. •Se//., i8gg. ■ \ i'iW. IN HAROLD THE WAR PRINCES OF THE NORTH Harold Ha,drada,e„.e«dhtJ,"vTh!.,n' "" ^="'""«'' of a flee, of ihree hundred ^rhrr".''"'""*^" round Solundir. And a m^n „ ^ ^ ""'P'"' "•= '«« Kings ship dreamed /drm He '"''• °" """"^ *= ' standing on an isle of .1,. s„i ■ ."" " ^""-^ "'ch-wife and a Tough in Z ^ he- H "^Jhe ° '"' '" °"' ''-<' a-^/ar;:rof-"~^^^^^^^^^ -n, and he ^l:'^^^^^-^^- a "From the East I allure I.im At the West I secure him: ' in the feast I foresee Rare the relics for me • Red the drink, white' the I,o„es. '7''/ ""'"^''^ '" greeding, And watching, and heeding: {horo- wind, over wafer, Comes scent of the slaughter, And ravens sit greeding Their share of the bones. "Thoro- wind, thoro' weather, "ere sailing together; I sail with the .avens: I watch with the ravens: I snatch from the ravens W/ share of the bones!" i HAROLD But Harold Hardrada scorned witch-wife and dream; and his fleets sailed on. In September, 1066, Earl Tostig joined him off the Orkney Isles, and this great armament soon came in sight of the shores of England. They landed at Cleveland, and at the dread of the terrible Norsemen, the coastmen fled or submitted. With booty and plunder they sailed on to Scarborough, but there the townsfolk were brave, and the walls were strong. The Norsemen ascended a hill above the town, lit a huge pile of wood, and tossed the burning piles down on the roofs. House after house caught the flame, and through the glare and the crash rushed the men of Hardruda. Great was the slaughter, and ample the plunder; and the town, awed and depeopled, submitted to flame and to sword. Then the fleet sailed up the Humber and Ouse, and landed at Richall, not far from York; but Morcar, the Earl of Northumbria, came out with all his forces— all the stout men and tall of the great race of the Anglo-Dane. Then Hardrada advanced his flag, called Land-Eyda, the "Ravager of the World," and, chanting a war-stave- led his men to the onslaught. The battle was fierce, but short. The English troops were defeated, they fled into York; and the Ravager of the World was borne in triumph to the gates of the town. An exiled chief, however tyrannous and hateful, hath ever some friends among the desperate and lawless; and success ever finds allies among the weak and the craven— so many Northumbrians now came to the side of Tostig. Dissension and mutiny broke out amidst the garrison within; Morcar, unable to control the townsfolk, was driven forth with those still true to their country and King, and York on Sunday, 24 September 1066, agreed to open its gates to the conquering invader. At the news of this foe on the north side of the land. King Harold was compelled to withdraw all the forces at watch in the south against the tardy invasion of William. THE WAR PRINCES OF THE NORTH 3 hu^l'::ra„*;^;THr'/" *' '-"<' --" -^ a"d say; and ^ny Cr^tfhe;! ?'''' ""= '"'*= on t'^rrsdl'nf""'^'"™ ™ - S,a„f„MBHd,e, and a large portion of L I "' '">' '" *' "'" ''=>■''"<'; day ^as r ° it ''™'""'^« "'"» with tl,e ships. The plunder o/Y^k '•::ir:!:r'*'"^'""'^'' •"*'"« ""^^ thoughls of the sixon L H u" '""""'•' '""^ floating over to t.o.ece-„hen 'h1 , k' ^ ^™" ">'" ""d f'iW ani rolled I gl, f^^'of'T" t" """ '"' '""'" "=«^ i' 'Oiled, and S.le h. J /T "«'' '' '°''' ""d ««' and .he shWd '"" "' *' *'"' *»■><' 'h- ^Pear arms was like .hTgLSg Ine:™' ""' *= *"= "^ *^ ••d;frnra„'J=,o~--"'' ^'''^ «-'« Hard^ada. spa^ch^i S;*"fo fte'f*:' '':,'■'^''-^- >™".s, he de- up quick .oTheaid ror»r r'T"'*"''^'=">™"'<^ amidst the spears L^ ? ''' ""■""'«'' "■= ^'""d and On .he Prev^r„~hrSg*H:^1d°h'd '"^"1 '''■"""• unknown to the invaderr,^ Harold had entered York, the townsfolk ^Ih'^"^"'"' *= -nutiny- cheered bv the wtdl 'o rarl: Sir Z ' H'r'''"" ""^ of the North. *'""'' '^'°" the clouds Both armamenu drew up in kaste. and Hardrada formed 'f 4 HAROLD hii array in the form of a circle-the line long, but not deep the wings curving round till they met, shield to shield' Those who stood in the first rank set their spear shafts on the ground, the points level with the breast of a horseman ; those in the second, with spears yet lower, level with the breast of a horse; thus forming a double palisade against the charge of cavalry. In the centre of this circle was placed the Ravager of the World, and round it a rampart of shields. Behind that rampart was the accustomed post at the onset of battle for the King and his body-guard. But Tostig was in front, with his own Northumbrian lion banner, and his chosen men While this army was thus being formed, the English Kmg was marshalling his force in the far more formidable tactics, which his military science had perfected from the warfare of the Danes. That form of battalion, invincible hitherto under his leadership, was in the manner of a wedge or triangle, thus A. So that, in attack, le men marched on the foe presenting the smallest possible surface to the missives, and, m defence, all three lines faced the assailants. King Harold cast his eye over the closing lines, and then, turning to Gurth, who rode by his side, said- "Take one man from yon hostile army, and with what joy should we charge on the Northmen!" "I conceive thee," answered Gurth, mournfully, "and the same thought of that one man makes my arm feel palsied." The King mused, and drew down the nasal bar of his helmet. "Thegns," said he suddenly, to the score of riders who grouped round him, "follow." And shaking the rein of his horse. King Harold rode straight to that part of the hostile front from which rose, above the spears, the Northumbrian banner of Tostig. Wondering, but mute, the twenty thegns THE WAR PRINCES OF THE NORTH .; Js Tostig. the son of Godwin and Cith l , the Northumbrian earldom"^ "' ^^ *'^" "^^^^ came up to the speaker *"' ™'^'' ""<* "What wouldst thou with me, daring r„e!" .end«,;rhe':r::rr/r'''^''«''™'-'-"^'' Jhejaxon hesitated, and a rider by hi. side took up bn^si^t rrr^nr'tTsi'-^rr'- '^"«''-- earldom of Wessex on U. -.1^ '""" ''^'^"^ his late thee, thou shat hL alfr^^^^^^^^ hath promised to Gurth " ''' ""^''^ ^'"^ «^^°'d as in'tubtX'Zr ''"'"; -voe. and wrath all commt^led , f"/'^ ^^'^h terror and that it hushed the very w7t ,. ' '^^'^'" 'he Norsemen. On'" cried the SaxTn . ' '"°'"""^' spoiler, On to the stX^Jnl^ e^^ °"^ ^^"^ ^^^^ -- "On to the standard!- crL Hn t^ '" °"'" °"'"^" under him, all bloody with w6un^ ' "l °' ^'^ ^'^"^ «'ain '« the King's side. Grim and it "°^ ^'^ °^n. now came 'he streamer shrieked and flapped'"' u' ^'^"^^^^' -^ raven had voice, when, nght before »" 'm "'"' ^^ '^ 'he h'm and the banner, stood Tn«r u^'"''^' "^^^ between 'he splendour of his' mTthe ll'" 'r^^^'"' '^--n by •^nown by the fierce laugh.' an^ &' ^ '" '"^""^- What matters!" crier? Hn . ^ef3mg voice, crown!" '^ "'^°' ^'"ke. O King, for thy Harold's hand grined Hn^«' h.-s axe. turned rfund and L?"!? 'r^''^'^^^>'' ''^'-vered were not the soldiers to yield because their lO HAROLD r I leader was slain -rather the more resolute to fight, since revenge was now added to valour; yet. but for the daring and promptness with which Tostig had cut his way to the standard, the day had been already decided. During the pause, Harold ..immoning Gurth, said to him in great emot-.., "For the sake of Nature, for the love of God, go, O Gurth-go to Tostig; urge him. now Hardrada is dead, urge him to peace. All that we can proffer with honour, proffer-quarter and free retreat to every Norseman. Oh, save me, save us, from a brother's blood ! " Gurth lifted his helmet, and kissed the mailed hand that grasped his own. "I go," said he. And so, bareheaded, and with a single trumpeter, he went to the hostile lines. Harold awaited him in great agitction, nor could any man have guessed what bitter and awful thoughts lay in that heart, from which, in the way -. power, tie after tie had been wrenched away. He did not wait long; and even before Gurth rejoined him, he knew by an unanimous shout of fury, to which the clash of countless shields chimed in that the mission had been in vain. ' Tostig had refused to hear Gurth, save in presence of the Norwegian chiefs; and when the message had been delivered, they all cried, "We would rather fall one across the corpse of the other, than leave a field in which our King was slain." I' Ye hear them," said Tostig; "as they speak, speak I." "Not mine this guilt, too, O Godl" said Harold, solemnly liftmg his hand on high. "Now, then, to duty." By this time the Norwegian reinforcements had arrived from the ships, and this for a short time rendered the con- flict, that immediately ensued, uncertain and critical. But Harold's generalship was now as consummate as his valour had been daring. He kept his men true to their irrefragable THE WAR PRINCES OF THE NORTH „ line. Even if fragments splintered nff « u / threw itself into the form of f ; ''''''^ fragment Norwegian, standing on the brllr^""?'" ^^^«^- «"« that pass; and no Is 'h L "t^.t Sa '"'' '°"'^ ^"^^^^'^ perished by his arm To l^ f "' ''"' »^'^ 'o have perous plU, nTon, V^tX'r rf ^V^ "^ ^ for the valour. The viking if. ^ '''^' ^"' ''0"o»'" at last by a Javeh'n f om he hind f »'""'"'^^' ''"^ ^-" had been embodied thelyieid.n. "T' ^^ ''' '" ^'"^ in that death died the last hi ' :T^°^°^'^'^°""'"""' literally where therstlod ''• '''"''• ''''^ '^" and the weight of their m.n 'TI' °'" '^^^' exhaustion the shades of nightfa^ Ha L ". "^''°"' ' ''°"- ^"'^ '" rampart of shields, h' fooolr ""'''' ^"^^ ^^^"^^^ ear If^he^^ r^^L^rrd^- Haco in the Plunged it back into thrshel ' '"" ''^ ^^•°'^' ''^ Lord Lytton, //tf/v/./. WILLIAM I THE RED PRINCE AS TYRANT The banquet after the fashion of the times, waxed rough and boisterous in the hall of the old castle at Norwich. Never had the fickle Prince William seemed in a more gracious mood; twice had he pledged the company, calling on Saxon andNormanheartstojoinhiminthetoast. All were fascinated with his open manner and seeming sincerity; and all. save one, deceived by them. Herbert de Lozinga had watched his impassioned glances when he beheld the Lady Matilda in the hall-the look which followed her rehiring footsteps- and, although he anticipated no attempt at outrage he determined to have an eye upon the prince. As the banquet proceeded, his suspicions were still further strengthened by the looks of triumph which flashed from his fierce eye whenever the maiden's name became the theme of conversation. Amongst the minstrels who occupied the gallery opposite the dais was Hella, the Saxon-admitted by all who loved the joyous science to be the chief of the all but extinct Bardic tribe. Many doubted, indeed, if he were even Christian, so devoted did he appear to the old superstitions and traditions of his race. It was not till after he had been repeatedly called for that he descended into the hall with his magic harp to sing before the assembly So great was his renown, so intense the expectation of the Normans, few of whom had ever heard his song, that even the voices of the noisiest were hushed ere the gifted strain broke forth: •^■HE RED PR«„: AS TVRAN-r ^ne.e, these the holy spdl ,fr ' ^ecrate the warrior's sword." 1 ng few Q ^-"e; ,o .he" i" «'°an? """"' """^ '^-V heads i„ Normans heard ,he s,lTn „ 7"^ "'""•' ^^P'ivU, rC "Ke a reproach „po„ S" "ant^V"™"' '' »"" =d »"d sen, i, ty ,„., page ,oVet hV""'''' "f"" ^''^« value -v>h a courdy reverence aLTt u""' "'«' ««ived U ■»»*ng tonsue: ' "'"'""S'' ''^ answered ,vi,h 1 P'^^H nuTjtC"^;^ ta Hr""' «"^*"- Cende bearer „f s„ p„e,„,, ^ „'"' "elta was u„gra,ef„, ,o ,he from his own neck a chi*;Cr 'f ■" '" "«^^. '^kL, ■he Normans, and whfch he h„„ ' ? T T'= *"" ""'""ed Of fte yo„,h; ..„d sometimes hint „?''::°''"'' *= «ck ,7'-. So ==)■!"?, he dfrecled he "^ ? ""^ P""' bird's "■e .ns,r„,„e„,, and wi^ a Xlvs.Tt'"" ■" '"k^ "P At a signal from the bishon^t m" "" "" ■""'■ he pra,se of Ro„o, and , e 1 1 ?r " '"'"^''* «"« h^i'ened to the exciting strafn 7 ■'"' ^'i 'he noble^ fro". his .CTLZf T'" ""«'■ "'"ham arose -"-^---ix:r4-;.edge2 '3 u WILLIAM I the seneschal, bleeding and unhelmed, rushed into the midst of the assembly. All started at the sight, and the hand of many a knight was laid upon his sword. "Speak," demanded the bishop; "what hath befallen?" "To arms, nobles and knights," exclaimed the faithful officer. " Returning from the cathedral, the noble ladies Isabel and Matilda have been carried off, their escort was too feeble to protect them." The prelatr* searching glance was fixed upon the prince, who quailed beneath it. "Doubtless by Saxons," he stammered. "By Normans, noble prince— by Normans! I knew too well the taste of Norman steel to be deceived, despite their Saxon dress. I'll swear their brands were Norman." William scowled upon the officer with a look of hate. The sturdy soldier, conscious of his integrity, met his gaze unmoved. While the nobles were busy in consultation, the Bishop drew the commander of his troops, George of Erpingham, aside, and whispered something in his ear. Whatever was the nature of the communication, it evidently surprised the stalwart knight, for he hesitated to obey. The rapid conversation which followed removed, however, his objections-, for, touching his sword in sign of fidelity, he withdrew. The bishop, instead of following his example, concealed himself behind the floating arras with which the walls of the banquet-hall were hung. At the same moment Hella, the bard, entered the assembly, and approaching Ulrick, the Saxon, with a stately step, exclaimed: "Thy sword! thy sword! the wolf is in thy fold! the vulture bears the trembling dove to its dark nest! Last of a race I love! why standst thou idle here?— to horse! let manly deeds answer unmanly outrage! strike for thy country's wrongs, thy outraged love, or see thy bride be- come the Norman's scorn!" All the nobles present, Saxons as well as Normans, deeply THE RED PRINCE AS TYRANT felt the outrage, and rushed from the chamber caHin ' '^"^ addressing h m-' 'CeralVt '"'''"' "'^ ^-^ed his orders said : Danger and treason are abroac. His Highness goes to my poor palace; escort him thither with al due honoVr In trfidT^'V/"' °^ ^^^'^^"=^ ' -g'^ word I : ; on thy fidelity and knightly faith in this " " rrauors!" exclaimed William, "know ye not who I am ^ Dear y shal ye rue this outrage on your prince ra^er ■eTbri'h"'"' 't'^ ""''' "^^ orders. ' And I swar e en by my honour, that riches, favours beyond ambitiou dreams, shall recompense the deed I" <^moitious ''Ll'Zt'tJ"'"Tur^ *'' '•^'^^P' -°"temptuously; aoes not the word blister thy toncrue ml^L^ f>,„ hea«> The violator of mnocen'ce *: 'pe^ e^andl: robber dares .alk of honour! Prince, spare hyeion^e„e ;o:;:.""r;:°h'Lt^ --^^ '^- -- - -:::■ visof""" '" '"'''■" ''™''"''«' ■=^P-8han,, through his ''Force must be employed." "Should he escape?" "I^vel thine arquebus, and strike him dead." i8 WILT lAM I With these last words he quitted the apartment; and WiHiam, seeing that resistance was in vain, resigned him- self to his fate. His guards closed around him and con- ducted him to the bottom of the staircase, where a close litter was in waiting. For an instant he hesitated, and looked around, as if to summon assistance. None appeared ; and the few torches held by the soldiers showed him the arquebus held in the hands of the knight. Inwardly cursing his fate, and the being who had crossed it, he entered the litter, and in less than an hour found him- self a close prisoner in the loftiest tower of the bishop's palace. J. F. Smith, Stansfidd Hall. WILLIAM II now THE Krxa plaved with the peasant elements of patUrrc ' i, r "'"'' ^^ -" the higher say nothin, ofir ;: ^Sr;"' ^^^'^^^^^^^^^'- ^° men, outlaws, and so fo th T^ 7 '''' -'"'°""' g'^^" of that love,/and unci td ord'erl' 7/ '^' '^^" °"^ -d ages "to glitter in the b am ' at • ''^^ '" ^^"'^^ every street of the White CiJ T\ ' '" ^^"sequence, High.- was thronged to tees?' ^. '"«- "^"'^"^ "'^^ towards the south^ate wf .^^^V^'^' throng turned n»ty of a Ionian/? ' , ^"'""^ ^'^^"^h it to the extre- space Of gi::;. td^ e'" Ttt;:';^;, '^"^^' "^°" - °^- the centre of which n'.n ". , . ^ "'^'" ""^^d' a"d in They were LgmuLTf "''''': "°"^ '^'-^^ ^«"-ted. both in disgui e "^l tTur!. ,'"^'""'"'^ they occupied \vashe1ce or' r^^ °'"""°^^ ^"^^^hich of wrestling. a;ch "y ; aXst ' ^^'^'^ ^^ military sport- tain. These laboriousT,^r ' """"^ '"""'"^ attheQuin- convivial ind ten"e for ? Tu '''''''^ ^' '"^--'' ^y "hese distinctions, nerliaps T. T ^ ""'«• But all "f Norman and Saro^'S., rfptld ir 7™' °"=^ bepaMtcd by such waters of ao WILIJAM 11 bitterness as effectually cut off all perfectly social commii. nion. It was obviouj that these great national opposites had their representatives in the present assemblage, and that, if the Norman portion comprised the more influential by rank and station, the Saxon had the advantage in point o( numbers. Presently a loud shout proclaimed the triumph of a Norman archer, who, for the third time, had sent a shaft fro;a a considerable distance into the clout or exact centre of a target fixed at one extremity of the ground. This feat, which filled his party with clamorous exultation, seemed to close the trials of archer-craft for a while; the whole body moving towards the festive board, escorting the victor triumphally, and formally installing him in the seat of honour at the head of the banqueting table. "Spanish yew and the Norman bow hand for ever!" shouted a ruby-visaged lover of venery and woodcraft- "Saw ever mortal man fairer archery than that!" "Fairer?" iterated another and more grim-looking enco- miast— "He that boasts him to have seen fairer, if he be a Norman, let him thank God for a goodly sight— if a Saxon-by St. Anthony's sow, he is a bacon-fed braggart, and a lying churl; and we will scourge the vaunting humour out of him with a swine's tail ! " "Ha! ha! ha!" roared the Norman party, in obstreperous triumph at this threatening witticism of their champion. "Ha ha! ha!" laughed .mother voice, as if in bitter mockery, and only making itself audible when the mirth of others was silent. The grim speaker thus defied-for a defiance the scorn- ful laugh seemed intended to convey - turned fiercely in that direction, and glared with fiery eyes upon one whose countenance left no doubt that he was the author of the insult. This individual, whose dress was that of an ordinary " SPANISH YEW AND THP vv,„ THE NORMAN BOW-HAND FOR EVER < " Face jh. to Ho«' TfiF, KINO r,,AYKn mm the pkasant „ bo.h or.hepowo and" L^^I?" : '";'' """^ '"*""<"'» l.y..he.flrer' * """ '^"""°" *"" 't-^. I.oWie: ,','S°' T'T ' '""«'■ "' "■«." 'eplied ,he Saxon hajest Ihoii me sol" exclaimM A. .1 . "by St. Winifred, but thou Z^ o .; "shT'"' "^ ragged jaw-teeth again in ^urh I ■ ^"^ "^^ ^^y dash th.m donn thv vi In ^ ^"""'"^ ^''"' ^"^ I «'" "Wnrl- .. ^ villainous throat with my dagger-hifti " Work thy pleasure with the haft " renli^H lu i of Henm\t .;,u , '/'"^ "'i". replied the descendant "' riengist, ».uh a calm > tterness "a^H r «;ii .- j , himself upon the ol.ject o' h Z ? ^"" ''"""'■ """« have ".ickled hi™ i.hr a ^s-t?'""' T"''''''"" ''<'"'''. keeping his sittinj post, r"e n ,1,, T "' '"*"*""■ >'»' oxiricaled himself ST L ,' ■"■°™'''''« '^'■'"'"«. a..resso. f™:ti:„rifX"'a;r:'::is:"''Trf r ™phasis of .he fan, however, wa^ b^ken" '.h le afo™^ After agam regaining the firm foot, he stood f„r?„ as .f bewildered with surprise an/rage°°hef d "' t«-o*dsed knife of formidable lennh^nnV ' "'"« " once more npon the s"„„ wf* . , f^ ''"""'^'' 'P™« Far from iimL;him'sr,o"trgtr::™r:,t:r'''*'- he now put the dagger-haft to its ■eS.im::":::!;^:'::^; ' i 23 WILLIAM II perhaps, have given the sharp blade a gor>' sheath, had not the blow been arrested by an onlooker dressed in the garb of a minstrel. Abandoning his instrument to a dwarf attendant, the minstrel sprang betwixt the Norman and his victim, exclaiming as he withheld the struggling hand: "Ho! gently, for our Lady's sake! have we murder here over the ale-cup?" "What is that to thee, Sir Twang the gittern?" exclaimed the Hero of the Target, taking up the quarrel of his angry encomiast, as a matter rightly pertaining to himself, "hold off thy jackanape fingers, or, by St. Hubert! we will drug thee with a like posset." "Physic the sick!" exclaimed the pertinacious Minstrel; "I am hale of body, and will neither swallow such drugs myself, nor see them thrust, wold he, n'old he, down the maw of another, if I can help it." "Help it, then, at thy peril, or if thou canst," replied the archer; and seizing the lover of sweet song by the arm (aided at the same time by the ready hands of others), he dragged him. with equal suddenness and fury apart. This was scarcely accomplished before the liberated assailant again rushed upon the object of his resentment, and again, to the astonishment of the beholders, was thrown, or rather, hurled off by the stern, vigorous, unwounded Saxon— much as a boy of ten might be repelled by the manly arm of thirty. He now sprang, in turn, upon his reeling aggressor, wrenched the dagger from his hand, and would certainly have cured him for ever of brawling and stabbing, had not the minstrel, however ill-relished by those around, arrested his uplifted arm. This was followed by a simultaneous rushing together of the two parties, Norman and Saxon, which speedily con- verted the individual scuffle into a general mcUe. The HOW THK KING I'LAVEI, Wim THE PEASANT 23 minstrel, on the one side, and. on the other, he who had rescued i.v the- ^' '"'"^ ^'' ^"'^ '"-' werclnl t' rescued by the.r respective partisans. Weapons of various k.nds were drawn and flourished, and bliws and thru, exchanged wuh great heartiness. Fortunately, however al th. was without any serious bonedisturbing. and , efor matters had tune to assume a worse aspect, he dlguTed Kmg and h s Justiciary thought proper to interne Thev came to th.s resolution hastily, but not cordilt; mZ bard, the advocate of placability when nothing wasTo Te^lted^rr"':? "^^' --diateprev:n'ti:.;^^bu u e amused king, wishmg to en oy all the immunities of h.s mcogmto. breathed the less Christian spirit of "F ^ Xrt:z::.r '^-^^^^ ^--'^ -^ ^--^ - -^ the M.^i.tet ''" "'"'"' '"' ''^"^''"^ •'-- ^ i^<' -id "Tush," replied Rufus. "let the pudding-headed villains brawl themselves sober. By the beard of Benedict I would Stne^Mo:b::::^:-^'"^"-^'p--^i«'ence "A mmstrel's fence!" said Ranulph, "as well talk of. monk's modesty! Who ever honrH c • Welsh nf .. • : , ! ? ' ^"""""^ amongst the wild We h of a mmstrel fighting? at least since the days of laillefer. at Hastings" field; and he was rapped on the head mcontmently for his pains. Why-look yJL even so- e ballad-monger will none on't-he holds offhand from sharpen ed iron- he wil break no hedges, lest a serpent bite hm"' Oh Ranulph! Ranulph!" cried the Monarch, "art thou ZTZe^ t' '"T'^- ^°"^^^ ballad-mong;, as thou work and, ,f ,t must be so. play we the peace-makers- ho! peace, ye knaves!" cuiastrs li i 24 WILLIAM II And he thrust himself between the belhgerents as if with ribs of iron, shouting "Peace hoi" in a voice that rang hke the peal of a trumpet, and induced a dead sus- pension of hostilities. "My masters!" exclaimed Flambard, the instant fair hearing could be obtained, "are ye mad? or drunk with double ale of the devil's brewing? Why, what black .a«r/«. is this for Christian men with souls to be saved if they have grace or luck? Heard ye never that a live dog is better than a dead lion? Clap me every man his Tran- chero into the scabbard, and that goodly part of his body which I name not, for reverence, once more upon his seat; and we that be men of peace and substance will thereupon play the magnificos, and be at cost to brim your flagons again with the mightiest ale that Winchester hath in butt. Shall it be even so, brother mine?" "Aye, but methinks," said Rufus, "they thirst for a purple rather than a brown beverage, as if there were no holiday-keeping without throat-cutting. What knowest thou of archery, that art so fain to thrust and stab for the glory thereof? thou with the iron pot upon thy brainless sconce ? " He of the iron pcI however,-the angry assailant of the baxon. had, by this time, caught a glance which at once drew the angel of consideration to whip the offending Adam out of him. He fell back amongst the crowd with very much the air of one who had no desire to be further commented upon. Meanwhile the work of recognition was going on with a like stultifying effect upon others, for not only did the gentle minstrel, after a steady gaze at the disguised king evmce a desire to depart suddenly, but the mysterious baxon also put himself modestly upon the retrogade. staying no further question." HOW ™KKIMOP..VEOWrr„ THE PEASANT, com'^aT.htJ''^' '""'''"■ '''" "<" di'Pos^d ,o par, in mm, I pray ,.„„• t ° ^^ "T '■ "'' """■ "^ '"* cheer." ' " ""• '" honour of our proffered brimmed with costly winTi^H '' ''' '^^^^"^ ^'^^ churl! but, ittTbe h" X' ^"^"^' "^-ooth, a dainty condition. Methinks ' G ffer tT T.' '^"^^ *^^ ^-' ere now; and this is not the fi^,' ^'^ '^"^^'^ ^'^^ thee ;n .a JL:'r^:2:;f^^^^^^^^^^^ --^^ ^ -ut renow boldly interrupted. "I wm^H ""T""^ ^'^°'" ^^ ^bus mine own eyes beheld T T ^ ^^"^ ^^^^ therein that -d weary, Ind f^Sed^lV' '^'^^' ''"^'^- ^^^^ driven oxen, through a v^,. ''''■' ''"'"^^^°^' «ke ove-- Welsh wolv;s hTd beset tr"''"^""'-" pass; and - hollows and the clefts Ldthr^ '"' ''"^°'"' ^"^ ^^e "tasters, or whereupon Iwh LhV^'?'' "'^^^^>^' "^^ before we could couch a t^ "^ ^" '""^^ clerkly,) came a whistling hurricane of h T ^''' " '"^"^^' ^^ere the length of a doth^ard L M t'^''^ ^^^^'«' ^>^« know they tickled our roreZst!Lfl""u''^'"''''''^ ^"^ t° the very heart and Lfdrfff ' "^^ '"'^ ^'^^ P^^^tron, craft to make a man grin on fv. ^'■°"''" ^^ " ^^« bow- But of all rarities wUhTenL^^°"^«'de^ these eyes of mine-fa LndT'l ' ^""^ ^"^ ^°^^"-' eyes, I say, beheld a Norman Tn h T "" ^^^ '^'^these Pmned to his redronn 1 5^'' ^°t Ralph de Limesi. through mans itZ/TorLtt 'T '''''' ^° ''^''^ ^orse-flesh-I say, through left 36 WILLIAM II thigh and right thigh, and the steed's belly to boot I Aha! Sir Merchants, and good fellows all, that was proper archerj', and a fair sight to look and laugh at, had there been time therefor!" While the military ear of Rufus was thus occupied, the more politic Justiciary listened to the stern Saxon, as the latter replied to his admonitory hints of departure. "Wert thou in cowl and cassock, good friend," said Ranulph, "I would say, 'keep not thy place token the spirit of the Ruler is against thee; hast thou clerkly knowledge of such a rede, ha?" "Aye," replied the Saxon, "the rede of him who said also, '/ have seen Princes walking like servants upon the earth: " "Go to, then," answered Flambard, convinced by this that their incognito had been penetrated; "thou knowest whose favour is as the morning dew, and whose wrath as the roaring of the lion." The Saxon glanced around him, and gave a mute signal to one who stood near, holding by the rein a coal- black courser. "Dog of a Saxon!" cried the King at last, and with little heed to the character he assumed, "Thou wilt not tarry the grace-cup, ha? get thee to kennel, then! but I swear to thee, before long thou shalt pledge me in other wise; I will have thee a dweller in strange chambers!" "A dweller in the free forest, with mine own free thoughts!" said the threatened one, his eye kindling, and his cheek taking a more pallid hue. "Aye, and a shooter of free shafts at other men's deer, I warrant thee ! " rejoined the Monarch. "Nay, but, brother mine," interrupted Flambard, "'non est inquiremium' thou knowest, 'unde venit venison.'" "At least," said the insulted Saxon, confronting the Sove- HOW THE KING PLAYED W,TH THE PEASANT ,, ''^Z t ZtZ'^ru' "I ''"' ^^^" "-"'^ *-«"^ woodcraft, „„7™Lv ^.T' ""' "" '"' ""^ '"^ °f even novv are Ul?,. ^" ""^ °' *= ^"""^ ''"<' "«« and rioting Z TZ^Z rT' '° *' '''""''' '■'"vem, a thousand q„i.ers ,he S r ""^ " """"a"" and forth." '"'"'' of vengeance shall speed it np"Ls 'rjl-^Lrr*' -"''^■'^' -« "- '-"■ "Pon his lip, e bo nid ™^ V" ""' """^ f-med ^^Prang with fieree hasfe ;„, u' '"? "^'''^ '=ady coarser, a replying tone ^„H lU W.^ ? """^ """^ ""'"'^ 'he spot. In vain did R^f, u '" ""^adlong gallop fr„™ "TuV said Hamtrt t 'l^ ° horse and chase 1" lunatic. Which oT ye k„„" I" r'"'"' P°°' «™™» Wfke," .„ming to the ^^re '?■ 'a ?"7'"*r ""■• "«"'■ «ke carrion, be'use, wS ::V'°°V" "■""«" ■nen's liking." 'orsooth, he laughed not to other 'Carrionl" exclaimed the Mnn«,^i, ..t b«n cut into gobbets or theTe"n;i ,h ""r ' ?°" ''°*' busy hand thrust betwix, l; " j r ''"'"^ ''^'"'^ % Jingling gnlll thy beastrL-Hf?^^ . '" ' ''" *==• •*»» and others, of the i„„ „ '^^"'"''^ '""' """-ed iW, youth ".astmade hy se*suretKL"' f " "='>' °f "-d. Thou brandish weapon thy«lf>" ™"™^'' '''• Cans. «^^rCed":7al." r"""'" *^ «--' 'n ala™ I pray you^:h.;sr iXiw"^' ^^' -' "-- • I 41 I :| 28 VVILTJAM II "Pjih!" exclaimed the disgusted Rufus, "get thee from under my nostrils. The rank stench of such another coward would breed the falling-sickness amongst us. Hast thou the limbs and the ws of a man, and scarcely the heart of a pigeon ? " " God hath made me of tender clay," answered the Minstrel, whose noble form and admirable features presented the strongest possible contrast to his pusillanimous words— "Let me hence," he added, "a stranger I, and a peaceful— 'tis time, by'r Lady— The owl from his tod — And the hat from his shed — The larlv to her sod — And the Minstrel lo bed! " Even the provoked King lent his hoarse burden to the general chorus; and Flambard, well pleased to see the current of the royal temper take a gentle turn, exclaimed aloud— "By the charmed blade o- King Pellenore! Sit to thv harp, good fellow, and let u>> hear thee blazon the deeds of some doughty warrior, until they that bring the mighty ale arrive with their blessed burden." The minstrel obeyed, and as the deep and mellow tones of the singer died away, a profound stillness sank upon the mixed auditory, and held place alike of song and speech— of laugh and threat. Such, in fact, was the im- pression conveyed by the rude ballad, that the performer departed, with his attendant, even without the farewell greeting of a jest, and the monarch and his favourite effected their retreat under cover of the beverage tor which they had pledged themselves to the wassailers. ANONyMous, Rufus. HENRY I THE OA'IH TO MATILDA daash^i^ii.hlL"^;:,'; -- '0 England bri„,i„, his vening a g^a. nZberl'f.t. '"^ Chrislmas, con. he gave " A house then, or a cottage, where I may obtain hospi- tality for the night?" ^ 34 HENRY n " Hospitality ! " said one of the young women ; " you have not far to seek for that. Do you not know that you are in the neighbourhood of Gamwell-Hall ? " "So far from it." said the knight, "that I never heard the name of Gamwell-Hall before." "Never heard of Gamwell-Hall!" exclaimed all the young women together, who could as soon have dreamed of his never having heard of the sky. "Indeed, no," said Sir Ralph; "but I shall be very happy to get rid of my ignorance." "And so shall I," said his squire; "for it seems that in this case knowledge will for once be a cure for hunger wherewith I am grievously afflicted." "And why are you so busy, my pretty damsels, weaving these garlands?" said the knight. "Why, do you not know, sir," said one of the young women, "that to-morrow is Gam well feast?" The knight was again obliged, with all humility, to con- fess his ignorance. "Ob. sir," said his informant, "then you will have some- thing to see, that I can tell you: for we shall choose a Queen of the May, and we shall crown her with flowers and place her in a chariot of flowers, and draw it with lines of flowers, and we shall hang all the trees with flowers and we shall strew all the ground with flowers, and we shall dance with flowers, and in flowers, and on flowers and we shall be all flowers." ' "That you will," said the knight; "and the sweetest and brightest of all the flowers of the May, my pretty damsels " On which all the pretty damsels smiled at him and <^ach other. "And there will be all sorts of May-games, ar ' there will be prizes for archery, and there will be the K.iight's ale, and the foresters' venison, and there will be Kit Scrape- «'HV, DO YOU NOT K^()^^, SIR, TH il KKASr ? " AT TO-MORROW IS GAMWEKL ''"''• A J* BY ORDER OF THE KING Peter Mugglld™; Cl h^ l™m,wa„,, „i,h hi, harp, „„d with Will WhilXn ■• iin hT"'. f"'"'°» '»>•»" dance »» »he ,Se JT ^ "* '^ •"''• '=IWi"K her hand, plea^ureTft; rLlr*"^ ^•"" "« ''-"' ■'"" "•« ."(ora,ed s"r Sph LT '"'^'' """ °"= "^ "•™ . ■" pium pie, around a DondemiiB rnVJ^ j taking copious draughts of old Oc^r T 1.0 "' .nscnbed over the interior door,- "'*' EAT, DRINK AND UK MERRY: :m injunction which Sir RiLxU i . . remarkaMe alacrit/in ^.e^ ^ ^'^7 .^'''^'' save Sir Ralph a very cordfal IJ ^'"X of Oamwell Him during supper wirsevml of huT'' ^"^. «"»^«-ned with an occasional sap on iLc, ""?''""' ^"'^^^^ peg in the ribs; a species of ^^-n.' ? "'^'"'"'^ ^^''^ ' the old gentleman '^xeied 7^^^^^^^^^^ ■"any of that pleasant va ef; of It " '"^^"^^^ ^>' by the name of rhlve fin .''"'" ''^"'■"•^' '^"°^'" the genuine tanlibr^H^foTt^crer of' '''V' '' Old Sir (Juy of Gamwell, and yo n^ wl^r ^"'u' and fa,r Alice Gannvell, and Sir RalLh v Tr ""'""' his squire, rode together the nex ' ^ Montfaucon and the feast. They arrived n„. T "'"^ '° '^" ^^^"^ «f cottages peepi:^ ^rt::nV: eTreT;: T hf ^"'^^ was .o.pieteiy encircled. T^.Hr::r^^::::t::gS 36 HENRY n with one continuous garland of flowers, depending in irre- gular festoons from the branches. In the centre of the green was a May-pole hidden in boughs and garlands; and a multitude of round-faced bumpkins and cherry-cheeked lasses were dancing around it, to the quadruple melody of Scrapesqueak, Whistlerap, Trumtwang, and Muggledrone; harmony we must not call it; for, though they had agreed to a partnership in point of tune, each, like a true pain- staking man, seemed determined to have his time to him- self; Muggledrone played allegretto, Trumtwang allegro, Whistlerap presto, and Scrapesqueak prestissimo. There was a kind of mathematical proportion in their discrepancy; while Muggledrone played the tune four times, Trumtwang played it five, Whistlerap six, and Scrapesqueak eight; for the latter completely distanced all his competitors, and indeed worked his elbow so nimbly that its outline was scarcely distinguishable through the mistiness of its rapid vibration. While the knight was delighting his eyes and ears with these pleasant sights and sounds, all eyes were turned in one direction; and Sir Ralph, looking round, saw a fair lady in green and gold come riding through the trees accompanied by a portly friar in grey, and several fair damsels and gallant grooms. On their nearer approach, he recognised the Lady Matilda and her ghostly adviser, brother Michael. A party of foresters arrived from another direction, and then ensued cordial interchanges of greeting, and collisions of hands and lips, among the Gamwells and the newcomers,— "How does my fair coz, Mawd?" and "How does my sweet coz, Mawd?" and "How does my wild coz, Mawd?" And "Eh I jolly friar, your hand, old boy;" and "Here, honest friar;" and "To me. merry friar," and "By your favour, mistress Alice;" and "Hey! cousin Robin;" and "Heyl cousin Will;" and "Od's life! merry BY ORDER OF THE KING 37 Sir Guy you grow younger every year."-as the old knight onle h V"'k r ""' °"^ ^^"^' -^ «'-PPed them on the back w.th the other, in token of his affection. A Z7 1 !,°""^ ™'" ^"^ ^"'"^^ ^^^^"^ed, some dra..ving. and others dancmg round, a floral car; and having placed OuTWZ''' °" ^^^^'^^'^ >^-^' they saluted her SrTe ;ur:i :pf.T ^"^ '-- '- ^° ^^^ P'- ^PPointed A hogshead of ale was abroach under an oak. and a fire was bla.ng m an open space before the trees to roast th" tJl7 "h /^' '''''''''' ^^°"^h*- The sports com menced; and after an agreeable series of bowling, coiting. fnendly dislocation of joints, and cudgel-playing or ami- cable crackmg of skulls, the trial of archery ensued The t^'haT/ :iV"n """'^' ""^ ^ ^°'^- -- from the hand of the Queen of the May. who was to be his partner m the dance till the close of the feast. TWs stim^ lated the knight's emulation: young Gamwell suppTedh^^ wuh a bow and arrow, and he took his station among th^ Srfnd' . ' ''' ''' rnonif^cuon to be outshot by H ,n th. M """ °"' °' ^'""^ '°^^^ *h^ P°i"* of his arrow f^m thf h /T f ^'^ ^^"^^^' ^"^ ---e the prize the srlT? . ' ^'''"- '^^' ^'^^'^"^ ^'^^ght scrutinised houJht he h H '"". "'' ""^^* ^"^"^^-' -d surely thought he had seen that face before. In the meantime Ralo T".'^.' ^'^ '''' ^° ^^^ ^^^^-- The lucX " grace of he? nf^ '""^'^^ °' '°^^ ^^°"^ '^e matchless grace of her attitudes, as. taking the bow in her left hand and adjusting the arrow with her right, advancing herleft foot and gently curving her beautiful figure with a slight motion of her head, that waved her black^eathers ^d he ringleted hair, she drew the arrow to if head. andToos^d m l-i| 38 HENRY II It from her open fingers. The arrow struck within the ring of gold, so close to that of the victorious forester that the points were in contact, and the feathers were intermingled. Oreat acclamations succeeded, and the forester led Matilda to the dance. Sir Ralph gazed on her fascinating motions till the torments of baffled love and jealous rage became unendurab e; and, approaching young Gamwell, he asked h.m if he knew the name of that forester who was leading the dance with the Queen of the May. "Robin, I believe," said young Gamwell, carelessly; "I think they call him Robin." ''Is that all you know of him?" said Sir Ralph. What more should I know of him ? " said young Gamwell. Ihen I can tell you," said Sir Ralph; "he is the out- lawed Larl of Huntingdon, on whose head is set so large a price. * "Ay, is he?" said young Gamwell, in the same careless manner. ''He were a prize worth the taking," said Sir Ralph. JNo doubt, ' said young Gamwell. "How think you?" said Sir Ralph; "are the foresters his adherents?" "I cannot say," said young Gamwell. '' Is your peasantry loyal and well-disposed ? " said Sir Ralph Passing loyal," said young Gamwell. "If I should call on them in the king's name," said Sir Kalph, think you they would aid and assist'" "Most likely they would," said young Gamwell; "one side or the other." ' "Ay, but which side?" said the knight. ''That remains to be tried," said young Gamwell. 1 have King Henry's commission," said the knight, "to apprehend this earl that was. How would vou advise me to act, being, as you see, without attendant force?" BV ORDER OF THE KING ^ "I would advise you," said young Gamwell "tn fnt« of cjiSbl„ T'k """"^ "f ^'o""' '"" - Mstorra GoJir Krx':;;. -""' -« "- '"-^ -^^^ "v > loot ofit'' "t' T "°"" '''"'<' *«• ■■■"■i ^» by the self safe out nfZ u r ''^" ^^^ '^"^^ ^^"«^»ed him- assist in th/!,. u ' ^^^^nded an armed force to .ngdon The T'^'^'T °^ **^ °"'^^^^d Earl of Hunt- aL regaled ht .T v '' "''°™P^"^ *^^ '^"'""^t in person, after whih thev t •"'" "'^'^ «°°^ «^°^^ °f ^he best wly tl GamltTfe^ ^ "°" "^^""^ "^'^^^ — ^^^^ ha7::trXu txifif f ^^ ^^^ ^•^^ ^-^- "^ doubt if this o^r H . f °f^^e^^'ce of plate. I much man y „T^'^^^^^^^^ ^^'^ \-^- ^^bin. be notthe Sherwood Fo eft and whot '." ""''"'"''^ '^™-'f ■" I have fair„i'^''°'".'"^"^^^^°"""g to apprehend nave lallen divers times nto disastpr* H« v. . .he, had, and .o^T ;r:hr„er,aiT„S » they be abbots or bishops, them he despoils utterly." 4» he:nry ii The sheriff then proceeded to relate to his companion the adventure of the Abbot of Doubleflask (which some grave historians have related 'of the Abbot of Saint Mary's and others of the Bishop of He^eford^.• how the abbot, return- mg to his abbey in company w>th his high selerer, who carried m his portmanteau the rerfs of the abbey-lands, and with a numerous train of attendants, came upon four seeming pedants, who were roasting the king's venison by the king's highway: how, in just indignation at this flagrant infringe- ment of the forest laws, he asked them what they meant and they answered that they meant to dine : how he ordered them to be seized and bound, and led captive to Notting- ham that they might know wild flesh to have been destined by Providence for licensed and privileged appetites, and not for the base hunger of unqualified knaves: how they prayed for mercy, and how the abbot swore by Saint CharHy tiiat he would show them none: how one of them thereupon drew a bugle-horn from under his smock-frock and blew three blasts, on which the abbot and his train were instantly surrounded by sixty bowmen in green: how they tied him to a tree, and made him say mass for their sins: how they unbound him, and sate him down with them to dinner and gave him venison and wildfowl and wine, and made him pay for his fare all the money in his high selerer's portmanteau, and enforced him to sleep all night under a tree m his cloak, and to leave the cloak behind him in the morning: how the abbot, light in pocket and heavy in heart, raised the country upon Robin Hood, for so he had heard the chief forester called by his men, and hunted him into an old woman's cottage: how Robin chan-ed dresses with the old woman, and how the abbot rode in great triumph into Nottingham, having in custody an old woman in a green doublet and breeches: how the old woman discovered herself: how the merrymen of Notting. CV ORDER OF THE KING ham laughed at the abbot: how the .n woman and how the oM ,oma„ ou! '^,'^? ^^'^^^^ ^^ the old h'm that Robin hudgivenTrro' .^^''^^f^'^oUening -nter whieh no abbot would e"','" ''^°"^^ ^''^ ake u from her for what he called th ' ^T ^°"^^ '^'^'^ ^y which he meant his 0^^!.; ^' ^°°^ °^»h« Church, hat she knew a true man fro^T'f ^"^. ^'""ony; and W from a greedy abbot '''' ^'^^'' ^"^ ^ ^ee Pe^vert:^lf;L;X peo^^e t mt^^' ?°^ ^'^''^ --"^--n »hose who tithe and toH upon L -^"^ ^'^'''' '^'' te-Poral benefit are LrZ^Ztr^'j'^^^^^^^^ «""ard,ans; for he holds that in '"'"^' and fatherly women what he takes from p^iell'7 ^° ^^^'^ ^"d old restore to the former whaUheXrh T?' '^ '°^^ ^^^ f"d th,s the impudent va4 "',!?■ '^'^"" fr«^ J"dge nowifanyloyalsubTect. ' ^'^^^butive justice bourhood.- ^ ^^^^""^ ^an be safe in such neigh- While the shf^r.-fr —ing.h:^^^:- -2:7^ his companion agamst them, the sun was fasfV?^ '^'^ ^wn indignation -^^ on till they cam? n'":^:^^: 7 h' "^^^- ^^^^ «avv a party approaching from tL ^"''^^' ^'^'^h they kn.ght presently discovered that th/'^'"'''' '''''' ^"^ the f-ady Matilda and Friar ^ ''"'^ ^°"«'«ted of the ^i^obin, and half-a-dofeT JeSrs ' C"? ^^ ^^"' -"- the earl to the sheriff who ?' , "'^^^ P°'"ted out h-e him an easy prey^l^rr^'' ""^^^' ^'^^". -e towards the bridge, on which 1 ?. '°^' °" '"^"^""y , ."Who be these," ^.id the frtr Ih ." ''''' "^^^ ^^'^ h«s way? Now, as (Jod shaHinH °"'' "''•"««" fast ^">Kht Sir Ralph Montfau^n ^id fh T' ' " ^'^^ ^'^'«- ham, with a posse of men wl " ^' «henff of Notting- and let them dislodge us if they may'"""''' '""^ ""^»^"^». E I t f 4* HENRY II The two parties were now near enough to parley; and the sheriff and the knight, advancing in the front of the cavalcade, called on the lady, the friar, young Gamwell, and the foresters, to deliver up that false traitor, Robert, formerly Earl of Huntingdon. Robert himself made an- swer by letting fly an arrow that struck the ground between the forefeet of the sheriff's horse. The horse reared up from the whizzing, and lodged the sheriff in the dust; and, at the same time the fair Matilda favoured the knight with an arrow in his right arm, that compelled him to withdraw from the affray. His men lifted the sheriff care- fully up, and replaced him on his horse, whom he imme- diately with great rage and zeal urged on to the assault with his fifty men at his heels, some of whom were inter- cepted in their advance by the arrows of the foresters and Matilda; while the friar, with an eight-foot staff, dislodged the sheriff a second time, and laid on him with all the vigour of the church militant on earth, in spite of his ejacu- lations of "Hey, friar Michael! What means this, honest friar? Hold, ghostly friar! Hold, holy friar ! "—till Matilda interposed, and delivered the battered sheriff to the care of the foresters. The friar continued flourishing his staff among the sheriff's men, knocking down one, breaking the ribs of another, dislocating the shoulder of a third, flatten- ing the nose of a fourth, cracking the skull of a fifth, and pitching a sixth into the river, till the few who were lucky enough to escape with whole bones, clapped spurs to their horses and fled for their lives under a farewell volley of arrows. Sir Ralph's squire, meanwhile, was glad of the excuse of attending his master's wound to absent himself from the battle; and put the poor knight to a great deal of unne- cessary pain by making as long a business as possible of extracting the arrow, which he had not accomplished when BY ORDER OF THE KING 43 Matilda, approaching, extracted it with great facility, and bound up the wound with her scarf, saying, "I reclaim my arrow, Sir Knight, which struck where I aimed it, to admo- nish you to desist from your enterprise. I could as easily have lodged it in your heart." ^^ "It did not need," said the knight, with rueful gallantry ; you have lodged one there already." /'If you mean to say that you love me," said Matilda It IS more than I ever .sha'l you; but ifyou will show your love by no further interfering with mine, you will at least merit my gratitude." The knight made a wry face under the double pain of heart and body caused at the same moment by the material or martial, and the metaphorical or erotic arrow, of which the latter was thus barbed by a declaration more candid than flattering; but he did not choose to put in any such claim to the lady's gratitude as would bar all hopes of her love: he therefore remained silent; and the lady and her escort, leaving him and the sheriflf to the care of the squire rode on till they came in sight of Arlingford Castle, where they parted in several directions. Thomas Love Peacock, Maid Marian. U RICHARD I HOW PRINCE JOHN WOOEO AND LOST Richard Cceur de Lion made all England resound with Dreparations for the Cnisade, to the great delight of many zealous adventurers, who eagerly flocked under his banner V^!' .u°^^ °u enriching themselves with Saracen spoil.' which they called fighting the battles of God. Richard who was not remarkably scrupulous in his financial opera-' tions was not likely to overlook the lands and castle of Locksley, which he appropriated immediately to his own purposes, and sold to the highest bidder. Now, as the repeal of the outlawry would involve the restitution of the estates to the rightful owner, it was obvious that it could never be expected from that most legitimate and most Chr.st.an king, Richard the First of England, the arch- •msader and anti-jacobin by excellence-the very type flower, cream, pink, symbol, and mirror of all the Holy Alhances that have ever existed on earth, excepting that lie seasoned his superstition and love of conquest with a certain condiment of romantic generosity and chivalrous self-devotion, with which his imitators in all other points have found it convenient to dispense. To give freely to one man what he had taken forcibly from another was j,'eneros.ty of which he was very capable; but to restore what he had taken to the man from whom we had taken It, was something that wore too much of the cool physiog- nomy of justice to be easily reconcileable to his kingly feelings. He had, besides, not only sent all King Uenry's samts about their business, or rather about their no-business- A HOW PRINCE JOHN WOOED AND I,OST 45 their /««^^«/,>,_but he had laid them under rigorous c.n extracted from t^e pietT of th '"'''''°' ''^' '^'^ ^^ them, in addition to' gve hmLTn""' 'r°"^^"^' Tu^ ^ ^ "" their hlessmir for nothing he considered indispensable to the exfL» f s%"ofoir^^ST.rdt--.i- displayed Zift f l^'^''''° '""' '"''""='' 'h' ^"rth, a. Reading ^00^0^0 "bt ' T' "' '"=^"" "y calling session of seve aHron? n ? ""J''^ ^'^ "''^"'"'"^ P°«- castle of Nottinrham ' ' ' '"'' ^"'^'^^ ^^^^-^ ^^ »he heTode Ir 'th '' ''"1,"'''"^ ''' °P^'-^^'°"« ^^ Nottingham on roll,, TcUm L^ F^r^r- "^^^'^^^" made most Drincelv h!v ^'tzwater's hospitality, and Now. it Ta'r'i^f r ?°"' '" ^^"*^°" -d brawn, s a m. , ..r of record among divers great historians 46 RICHARD I and learned clerks that he was then and there grievously smitten by the charms of the lovely Lady Matilda, and that a few days after he despatched his travelling minstrel. or laureate, Harpiton (whom he retained at moderate wages, to keep a journal of his proceedings, and prove them all just and legitimate), to the castle of Arlingford, to make proposals to the lady. This Harpiton was a very useful person. He was always ready, not only to maintain the cause of his master with his pen, and to sing his eulogies to his harp, but to undertake at a moment's notice any kind of courtly employment, called dirty work by the profane, which the blessings of civil government, namely, his master's pleasure, and the interests of social order, namely, his own emolument, might require. Prince John was of opinion that the love of a prince actual and king expectant, was in itself a sufficient honour to the daughter of a simple baron, and that the right divine of royalty would make it sufficiently holy without the rite divine of the Church. He was, therefore, graciously pleased to fall into an exceeding passion, when his confidential messenger returned from his embassy in piteous plight, having been, by the baron's order, first tossed in a blanket and set in the stocks to cool, and afterwards ducked in the moat and set again in the stocks to dry. John swore to revenge horribly this flagrant outrage on royal prerogative, and to obtain possession of the lady by force of arms; and accordingly collected a body of troops, and marched upon Ariingford Castle. A letter, conveyed on the point of a blunt arrow, announced his approach to Matilda: and Lord Fitzwater had just time to assemble his retainers, collect a hasty supply of provision, raise the drawbridge,' and drop the portcullis, when the castle was surrounded by the enemy. Trince John sat down impatiently before Arlingford Castle HOW PRINCK JOHN WOOED AND LOS I' 47 in the hope of starving out the besieged; but finding the duration of their supplies extend 'tself in an equal ratio with the prolongation of his hope, nade vigorous pre- parations for carrying the place by storm. He constructed an immense machine on wheels, which, being advanced to the edge of the moat, would lower a temporary bridge, of which one end would rest on the bank and the other on the battlements, and which, being well furnished with stepping boards, would enable his men to ascend the inclined plane with speed and facility. Matilda received indmation of this design by the usual friendly channel of a blunt arrow, which must either have been sent from some secret friend in the prince's camp, or from some vigorous archer beyond it; the latter will not appear improbable, when we consider that Robin Hood and Little John could shoot two English miles and an inch point-blank. The machine was completed, and the ensuing moining fixed for the assault. Six men, relieved at intervals, kept watch over it during the night. Prince John retired to sleep, congratulating himself in the expectation that another day would place the fair culprit at his princely mercy. His anticipations mingled with the visions of his slumber, and he dreamed of wounds and drums, and sacking and firing the castle, and bearing off in his arms the beautiful prize through the midst of fire and smoke. In the height of this imaginary turmoil, he awoke, and conceived for a few moments that certain sounds which rang in his ears, were the continuation of those of his dreai 1, in that sort of half-consciousness between sleeping and waking, when reality and phantasy meet and mingle in dim and confused resem- blance. He was, however, very soon fully awake to the fact of his guards calling on him to arm, which he did in haste, and beheld the machine in flames, and a furious conflict raging around it. He hurried to the spot, and found 11 ^1 r tl 48 RICHARF) I ^hat h nunp had ..ecn suddenly assailed frc.n, ..ne sid. by a party of foresters, and that the barons people had made a sort.e on the other, and that they had ki led th guards, and set fire to the machine, before the rest of th^ camp could come to the assistance of their fellows ,hL » "'^ i "'^ *" '''"^ '"'""^'y ^^'^' «"d the fire-lifiht shed around .t a vivid and unnatural radiance. On one Mde. the cnmson light quivered by its own agitation on he waveless moat, and on the bastions and bmtressrs of he castle, and their shadows l.y in massy bla kne^ on ^ea^rr t'"" °" '^' °''^^' '■' ^^-« "^- the Z2, streammg far w.thm among the open trunks, or resting on he closer fohage. The circumference of darkness bo ndc the scene on all sides; and in the centre raged the war tty t„ tr r^'"^''"^ ^'^^'"•"^ and^glittelHs' ZlfT- 'L''*''"* ^^"'"'^ ""^'^ °th"^ P'""^es confu. If J .???,;" '^' "''"^°" ''«^'' ^"d the massy light and shade that fell on the faces of the combatants, giving add' tional energy to their ferocious expression John, drawing nearer to the scene of action, observed two young warnors fighting side by side, one of whom wore the habit of a forester, the other that of a retainer of Arlmgford He looked intently on them bothfrei posauon towards the fire favoured the scrunity; a;d he hawks eye of love very speedily discovered that the latter was the f.r Matilda. The forester he did not know tJ he had sufficient tact to discern that his success would be very much facilitated by separating her from this companion a wedge only taking especial care not to be the point of It himself, and drove it between them with so much pre- cision that they were in a moment far asunder. Lady Mafilda,- said John, "yield yourself my prisoner." If you would wear me, Prince,' said Matilda, "you must HOW I'RINCF, JOHN WOOKD AND LOST 40 win me:' and without giving him time to deliberate on I e courtesy of fightinR with the lady of his love, she raised her sword m the air. and lowered it on his head with an nnpetus that would have gone nigh to fathom even that extraordmary depth of brain which always by divine graA furnishes the mterior of a head-royal, if he had not vev ^TZtr"1 ''' '^"'^- ^-- J^'^" wished^ dt arm and take captive, not in any way to wound or injure east of all to kill, his fair opponent. Matilda wo^^onl' ntent to got nd of her antagonist at any rate: the edge of he weapon painted his complexion with streaks of very was Lked f°^r" ;'""'"« ^'^^"^ ^^"'^' '"'^ ^hat he sword brov I " '^''"''«" °' ""'"^^"' «"d 'hat her sword broke short on the boss of his buckler. John was followmg up his advantage to make a captive of the iadt^ antagonist Some of his men picked him carefully up and conveyed him to his tent, stunned and stupefied ing in "hisMTn"'""' """ ^"""^ "'"^^P''^" ^'''«^"»'y ---^t. ng m his recovery, more in the fear of losing his nlace waTf" T: '^^'"\^'! "!-^-^ the prince's fi^rsHnq was for the prisoner he had been on the point of takine it the moment when his /^a^eas corpus was so unse^onable suspended. He was told that his people had been on the pomt of securing the said prisoner, when the devil suddenly rZ rr '''" " ''^ ""^^"^^^ °^^ t-" f-r. havTn! whi r\ u^ ""''"'■'^ *'''^ ^ sword-belt, and his crow^ which whether it were shaven or no they could no see' surmounted with a helmet, and flourishing an eight- 0'; s aff. with whic^ he laid about him to the right and tote eft. knocking down the prince and his men as if they had been so many ninepins: in fine, he had rescued the pr soner and made a clear passage through friend and fo' >l so RICHARD I and m conjunction with a chosen party of archers, had ZTIJ u ""''""' f. '^' '^"^"'^ '"^'^ ^^ 'he foresters, who had all gone off ,n a body towards Sherwood forest Harpiton suggested that it would be desirable to sack the castle, and volunteered to lead the van on the occasion, as the defenders were withdrawn, and the exploit seemed to prom.se much profit and little danger: John considered that the castie would in itself be a great acquisition to him as a stronghold m furtherance of his design on his brother's throne; and was determining to take possession with the first hght of morning, when he had the mortification to see the castle burst mto flames in several places at once. An arrow, with a letter attached to it, was shot into the camp, and carried to the prince. The contents were these :- "Prince John.-I do not consider myself to have resisted awful authority in defending my casde against you seeing that you are at present in a state ofactive rebellion against your hege sovereign Richard: and if my provisions had not failed me. I would have maintained it till doomsday As It ,s, I have so well disposed my combustibles that it shall not serve you as a stronghold in your rebellion If you hunt m the chases of Nottinghamshire, you may catch other game than my daughter. Both she and I are contem to be houseless for a time, in the reflection that we have deserved your enmity, and the friendship of C^ur-de-Lion — rjtzwater. Thomas Love Peacock, A/atW Manan. JOHN HOW KING JOHN Was WOOED AND WON r^l^Zt^ '".'^'^'"'^^ '' ''^ palace of West, the doorlTTJn and"'' "' '" '" '^'P" ^" ^ ^^den the apartment hTs' 1" ""'""°""^^d' ^he King strode into terrified or,. "Alas! what aUs tlrd':^ '"^^" ""^^^^ ^ John '"Te Bru?'''''V" !l^' ''"'^' " ^^^'^'^^d the enraged a^e sharpened, helstUte iltedr ^"■^^"^^' ^^ ^^^ save sorLv"'''' ''' ^"^^"' ^"^ ^^ '^^^ betokened aught thl7i:tl'rstr?n;th''"ed'''' '"T' ^^^ King-" fled from betide the LvernoH~ k'T ^'^"^ ^y po.erl But woe was fiendlilfr ' ^^''^^^ '^e garrison 1 - and his look "What means my lord and husband >" asked th. n, quaihng in very terror ^ ^"^^"' '^^\:!:i:T:^:^'~"'y -"^'-'■^ -="■ ■ Corfe Castle clrrdM.o':„k„3T " *"" ""'^ the governor, to imnale L !k T ■ ™"" "• '"'""'^ -fs^.?r^e^-rtf:r"'-"-"- f f li JOHN bay the galled lion, than to trifle with were safer to the King." she wilSvT "^T3 ^^"^^'•^-^he cast herself at his feet- old mL'T '" f— "^-bear-forbear, my hon- Bu.ld up a monument, to honour, not to execrate." Isabel! exclaimed the King, "why do I see you thus? Kise; I command you, rise." the Oueef f°" "" '""'" thyself again," quickly rejoined the Queen, striving to lure him into gentleness "Good my hege, but thou hast well-nigh scared me out of dear .if: ' feel^rhJ""; ;'" ^"^ •" ^^'^^ °^ ^^^^^ discordant leeling, he stooped to caress her. thZ?ir"°' "°^ ""'" ^^°" ^'^"^^^t ^^^^e to the poor worms hou hreatenest to annihilate; not until thou hast beai^d forth the sunshine of thy favour upon the governor and Lf ;ZL!!..'°^^^ ^-"^- ^--^- -- ^y -St dear "Never!" interrupting, and scowling on her a glance of wdrt?t"hvTdf^T- "? ''' ^°"'' '^ -^'y' ^^thou;TsL: well to thyself. Stir not the hell within me," and he gnawed his hp, and stood sullenly silent. "How, my lord wouldst thou shed a sea of blood for he trespass of a single one? The innocent for the gul- the^unoffending for the daring?" and she looked impforin'gly hn^^' ^\?f" ''''^'" ^'^^ J^-'-'g'susual oath) "a Charnel- house would I make of all England." "What if thou couldst pounce upon the aggressor" XLToSr '^-^"^^-^"^ ^-bel, "wot^LX'u stead?atav 'Tel^? ''°k ""' '^^''""^"''^ "^^^"^' " ^^'^ the King, steadfastly regarding her; then, with a sarcastic sneer -- Bear to me the rebel, and the thousand lives be thLe " HOW KING JOHN WAS WOOED AND WON 53, iiie K,ng looked incredulous. "Pshaw r«nh«ii »u ■wTr'"?'? ''^■^■'-"SP-'-t-Icommand y„„ speak " Ae l^"ged j" J"'!'? "" "■' ''"^^--" vociferated "First the indemnity," demanded the Ouecn "^„,« pardon, full and entire pardon fn tu ^""^ .garrison of Corfe c'Stle si: ? '''''"""'' '"^ '° ^'^^^ never in aftertiml 7 • I '°°' "^^ '"°'' ^'^^^ lord. clo-I do. impatiently pronounced King John "By - ^ •54 JOHN our halidom-by the blood of all the martyrs, I swear to spare all other-to glut all my vengeance upon the one daring rebel ! Name him— name him 1 " The Queen spoke not, but from her knees she cast her- self prostrate at his feet; her lovely face was deluged in tears; and she lay, low, and still, and humble. "Name him ! name him ! " urged the King, regardless of her emotion, and thirsting for revenge. "The rebel lies before ye," faltered out Isabel; then, half raismg her face, and glancing through her dark locks.- "Twas I who filed the chains-'twas I who opened the prison doors-'twas I who gave life and freedom to Hugh le Brun." Deep as is the still calm which succeeds the roar of the tempest, was the pause w^ich ensued; yet it was the pause of a moment.-" Traitress, thou liest!" thundered the King. —"How, here at Westminster, could thy power reach Corfe Castle ? Think not to stay my fury : tenfold shall it fall, e'en to the annihilation of a kingdom." Roused by an accusation so opprobrious, the Queen looked boldly up, her beauty heightening in the fire which sparkled m her eyes.-" Beware, my lord," she adjured, "how you punish faithful subjects, for an act I alone have committed. Behold in me the rebel to your will. Enabled by the royal signet, 'twas I who gave liberty to Hugh le Brun ;-for even in your grace's arms the blood of Hugh le Brun had been as an accusing phantom, rising to the judgment-seat. I laboured for his rescue-I removed him from the vengeance -not in defiance to your high authority, but to spare my- self fhe hereafter pang of conscience." " False ! false as hell ! " muttered the King. " Conscience be the ready cloak to muffle love;" and his cheek grew ghastly pale, and his limbs shook with rage and inward jealousy. rt : i THE REBKL LIES BEFORE YE." ■^«« P 54 'sui.iAH*- now Kixr: john has h-ooku and wo.v 33 .he MiS' r J' zr ::■ *°°'' 7 '-<"- ■•"•■"-^' band fear i„ ,|,e .ejected lover' iS "fm, r!. "" -iWnk of the Da« ,i,i„i. V'ui "' *"*"'"""' me ,0 your notice V,^f„,°/ ',''!,''"'"" ""'' «*i^'' Save never had I b^en the hL" . """'"''' "'«'' " """'. had I loved tWrHullT"" "'"■"""'"""i' «"">•!- eres in soft ap^" tho had' ""' 1^ [""^ '""''"'":^ infancy? God'™"' , to^e ulThr f ' "7' ''"^'='' '" -: no. one-vho'ired'trc" ::- :-:i,;: Jetd'^t^r tr„"„,',rh;rh' ^T'^ ''■■^=°^''-' ^-""^ solace tr. I • . ^ ^^^" yearned to give her soiace, to kiss away those tear*: tr. i...^ u • for cold as he w-is anrl hV , u ^^^ *° '^•'' ''^^''^'•^ he loved her wla 1 ^ '' ^e was to generous feelin,. her as needf uo his o .'' '""'' ' ""''^^ '"'"d-^ '°ved words- And sheTooked T't "" "'* ""='' '""">"' he';^rrbre« '"^''"""-' »«=' ' " -d again he snatched 56 JOHNT •'Av, to the one half of my kingdom," answered flie kin^. "No, no, nought of the kingdom," quickly rejoined Isabel: "my guerdon be thy whole and undivided heart." "Tis thy lawful heritage," replied the king; then stroking back her dark ringlets, and fondly perusing her wary brow, "God's truth! thou wert a bold traitor, dear onel In any other form the trespass had been death." "Marry!" said the Queen, gaily, "I did but rend away the only ill which could reach nie in thy arms. 1 scorned, forsooth, that the prattling world should bandy i>./ great name; that it should dare say in cold blood thou didst murder: and so -and so-" and steadfastly she watched him as she spoke— "I grew bold in thy love, and I stole away thy royal signet, and peradventure, now does the prisoner believe he owes, life to thy generous forbearance." "And thy emissary?" (juestioned John, willing to sift all of the adventure. The queen raised her dewy eyes to his face.— "Sure thou wilt not play me false," she said. "No, on my soul!" e.xclaimed the king. "Come, unravel the mystery to the end." Isabel mused for a moment, then, with trusting confidence : —"Call to mind, my liege," she resumed, "the pretty boy who used to bear love-tokens from thy dear hand,- he, who speeding on Cupid's errantry, beguiled absence with rare and cunning devices; he, who—" "What, Julian? thy pretty page Julian, my own Isabel?" "The same, good my lord! the little Julian, who bore us fellowship to England." "And didst thou corrupt his fealty? and didst thou teach him to play with fire, heedless of the tax?" and the King tried to look reproach— " didst thou—" Isabel placed her soft white hand upon his lips.— "Tarry," she implored, "and thou shalt hear how I cheated him ^^^ HOW KIX(. JOHN WAS WO.>KnAXnWOX „ messenger r''''^^' ^" '^^' ''■^*^' J"''"an 'relieved himself thy ^^.;;^How! hast thou made n.e the hero of oJ, thy stran.e 'ove and favour." and Iveetiv Z 77 °" '^^ ^'^^'^^^ the wing of the wind desl hed'r . " '''' '^''''' "°" Once within the wall of r r •^"''^" '"'° ^^o'-^etshire. ''-hed to .,eep Ih uspi ^^^ 1^' ^'^' '"'°'"^^ ^''^-^ the door of the keep- and wr '^°''"'°'-'* "P''"^'' "ke swiftness Julian al^^lnalldJ^^'"" "'^^ ^P'"^' and thankful; for in the knn r ' """' ^ '"^'^ S'-^teful Marche, no hereaft rl '" ''^^'^ ""^ the Earl de la ^perous desti.vy ■ ' '""'''''' ^^"''^ ^'""^ my happy p^i "Remorse!" echoprl ♦!,« i-- ^^^>^^^^ous foe, ::^T^Z^2Ly^^ "I feared it--l felt ;,' I \ r "'^ '"nocenrer" -ak, but well 1^^ :'.::' Hh"'''- ""^^"'^ '^--^' Alark! his death at th?r J ""'" "f '^.tual enmity, l^een my scourge t fe "'n ^\T' '^" '°^^' '^^^ palling fear of l. TJlg^S no ^'"^^ ^'^^ ^'^- caresses had stayed the JJ '■? ' "°' "Steven thy -vay-I had die' away- le L" '"•• ' '^' ^^°°P^^ Withered even in thy dear arms" '"'^ '" ^"'"™"' ^ ''^'^ i^he King shuddered. "Now" .« .• .. decphering all which passed whhin^""',? '^' ^"^^"' J-le of playfu, mirthf-no' col ' A"'/'"^''"" ^^^ '''^ht Jn God's good time-on iLT "^'' T^' ^ ''''' "ot. -"science . H,ht, and ly^u.:^!:'' ''"^ ''''' ^^^ ^- S. Stanhopk, KumiemeJe. ill EDWARD I HOW WALLACE MET KING EDWARD Wallace determined to set off for Durham, where, Hj was informed, King Edward was, and, joined by hi^ young queen, meant to sojourn till his wounds were healed. Ueliev- ing that his presence in Scotland could be no longer ser- viceable, and would engender continual intestine divisions, Wallace did not hesitate in fixing his course. As the chief meant to assume a border minstrel's garb, that he might travel the country unrecognised as its once adored Regent, he took his way towards a large hollow oak in Tor Wood, where he had deposited his means of disguise. When arrived there, he disarmed himself of ail but his sword, dirk, and breastplate; he covered his tartan gambeson with a minstrel's cassock; and staining his bright complexion with the juice of a nut, concealed his brighter locks beneath a close bonnet. Being thus equipped, and throwing his harp over his shoulder, he went forth, and pursued his way along the broom-clad hills of Muiravenside. In this manner, sitting at the board of the lowly, and sleeping beneath the thatched roof, did Wallace pursue his way through Tweeddale and Kttrick Forest till he reached the Cheviots. Having descended into Northumberland, his well-reple- nished scrip was his provider; and when it was exhausted he purchased food from the peasantry; he would not nccept the hospitality of a country he had so lately trodden as an enemy. Here he heard his name mentioned with terror as well as admiration. While many related circumstances of 58 HOW WALI.ACK MKl' KI\(; EDWARD 5,, misery to which the ravauing of their lands h:u\ rehired hem. a! ronrurre.1 in praising the moderutio., with which the Scottish leader treated his con(|uests I-ate in the evening, he arrived on the bai, ., of the river tha surrounds the episcopal city of Durham. His minstrel Ka b prevented Ivis being stopped by the guard at the gate; Parted rhiTl '^''^-h. ^ horse that was going through started at his abrupt appearance. Its rider suddenly ex- claimed, l„oi, thou dost n<;t see Sir William Wallace!" Then, turning to the disguised l.night. "Harper." cried he. you Irightcn my steed; draw ba< k till I pass " WalUue stood out of the way, and saw the speaker to be a young Southron knight, who with ditticulty kept his seat on the restive horse. Rearing and plunging, it would liave thrown its rider, had not Wallace put forth his hand and seized the bridle. Hy his assistance the animal was soothed; and the young lord, thanking him for his .service, old hin, that, as a reward, he would introduce him to play before the „ueen. who that day held a feast at the bishop's palace. Wallace thought it probable he might find access to iiruce, and he gladly accepted the offer. The knight who was Sir Piers Gaveston. ordered him to follow, turned his horse towards the city, and conducted Wallace through the gates ot the citadel to the palace within its walls On entering the banqueting-hall, he was placed bv the knight in the musicians' gallery, there to await the summons to her majesty. The entertainment being spread, and the room full of guests, the ,|ueen was led in by the haughty Inshop of the .see, the king being too ill of his wounds to allow his joining so large a company. The beauty of the c.vely sister of Philip le Bel seemed to fill the gaze and hearts of all the bystanders, and none appeared to remember that hdward was absent. Immediately on the royal band ceasing to play, CJaveston MICROCOrY RESOIUTION TEST CHART (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) 1.1 1^ 130 1^ y^ 1^ 13.6 14.0 2.0 1.8 A APPLIED IIVHGE Inc ^-V 16SJ East Main Street S'.A Rochester. Ne» York U609 USA VaS (716) 482 - 0300 - Phone ^B (716) 288 - 5989 - Fax 6o EDWARD I pressed to.-ards the queen, and told her he had presumed o introduce a travelling nunstrel into the gallerv hoi. hat she would order him to perform for her " .'usem'e nt as he could smg legends, from the descent of the Romans o the victor.es of her royal Edward. W.th all her "" iZT^:i:r °'"°^-^''^^' ''- -'--^^^ ^^- -:: rcs^ectT'tn'l^ presented him, Wallace bowed with the respect di^ to her sex and dignity, and to the esteem in -hich he held the character of her royal brother. Ma "4" sinf As r ': f " ''^ "^^^P '^^^°- h-' -d begFn to smg. As he knelt on one knee, and struck its soundin^ chords she stopped him by the inquiry of whence he cam; l'°- ^^^^"^'^ opi"- "Minstrel," she said, "we French ladies are very fond of a good m,en; and 1 shall be a little reconciled to w an>thmg hke as handsome as some of the gay kni-^hts bv whom you see me surrounded." ^ Wallace smiled, and replied, "The comeliness of Sir now WMXAVE MKT KLVG KDWARD ,, 1.= may hope ,o be Zn , "? "^ ''™'"<^ Sood„e«, of either, b"; st. ir ""' ': ™'"' "■'""" "'^ i''fl'«="-^'^ promise wheevri ^e r^'T'"^ '^^"^"^ ""« ' -" .he courtesy due to va,o„r' """' '° '"'' "'"' »'* "" a V*" hre'"f„rfH "",*""" "' "'' """^ -<■ "ith vast dome of ,h haH he '"I '""" ""'^'' ™"'^ ">= The ,,ueen fixed he L '." '"™'"" °' «=»">«. *e tuLd andlvhtpetd rvLo„":..Tf''th"''"- '"""'"• man had been WalKr^'. f '^aveston- If the voice of this at the disc:i!::^:/s:."''H'°"i """^^ from my allec^iance as fh^ r, ^^™°'^ ^^""P^^d me seemed to char"e 2 fl ""^^•^^^"'"^-'■0" of his notes rose- and '''''^ ^'^^ '^>''"g Southrons." Speakin- she rose, and, presentmg a jewelled rmt. f^ .u • "' the apartment. ^ *° '^^ mmstrel, left n-ch^ude ToimrtoreVfet^he""' ''^'"^^'^^^ ^'^'^ Wallace, who ha/disco'e ^d he nl^hT^rB^' ^'^ '"f escutcheon of Annandale suspended at . T saw him approach Hp ..„ ? * ^'^ "^*^'^' .^'adly to partake'of thet fa"e "';" ^^ ";f ^^^ ^^-ng^r minstrel it; and as thrlrthn H "^'^ ""' 'PP^" ^« decline pleasures of wine he t T"'"''' "^'^^ ^^^'°'^^ »« the Hi.n What he ::::;dt tr Tle^Xt" ^^^ V^^^" ^vas still in the castle under arre" ''and - !^ r!^'"'" for the „„o„,y dutt:;rs\;LtT ■■ "'^^= '^^""■"« 62 KDWARI) I This was precisely the point to which Wallace had wished to lead him; and pleading disrelish of wine, he offered to supply his place in the earl's chamber. The half-intoxicated bard accepted the proposition with eagerness, and as the shades of night had long closed in, he conducted his illus- tnous substitute to the large round tower of the castle, mforming him as they went along, that he must continue playmg in a recess adjoining to Bruce's room, till the last vesper-bell from the abbey in the neighbourhood should give the signal for his laying aside the harp. By that time the earl would be fallen asleep, and he might then lie down on a pallet he would find in the recess. At this Wallace promised punctually to obey; and bein^ conducted by the senachie up a spiral staircase, was left m the little anteroom. The chief drew the cowl of his mmstrel cloak over his face and set his harp before him m order to play. He could see through its strings that a group of knights were in earnest conversation at the further end of the apartment; but they spoke so low he could not distmgu.sh what was said. One of the party turned round, and the light of a suspended lamp discovered him to be the brave Earl of Gloucester, whom Wallace had taken and released at Berwick. The same ray showed another to be Tcrcy, Earl of Northumberland. Their fi-nres concealed that of Bruce, but at last, when all rose together, he heard Gloucester say, in rather an elevated voice, "Keep up your spirits. This envy of your base countrymen must recoil upon themselves. It cannot be long before King Edward discovers ' ■> motives of their accusations, and his noble nature wi,, ..cquit you accordingly." "My acquittal," replied Bruce, in a firm tone, "cannot restore what Edward's injustice has rifled from me. I abide by the test of my own actions, and by it will open the door of my freedom. Your king may depend on it," added he, IIUW WAI.LACE MKT KING EUWARI) 65 ^vith . sarcastic s.nile. "that I am not a ,„an to be influcn- ed against the n,,ht. Where I owe duty I will puy it to the uttermost farthing." Not apprehending 'Ihe true meaning of this speech. Percy ;mn,ed.ately answered. "I be' .e you. and so'must all the norld, for d.d you not give kave proofs of it that fearful SlcT?" ^''"'''''"' '" *'''""° '"'"'' ''^^'"'' '^'' triumphant "I did indeed give proofs of it." returned liruce, "which I hope the world will one day know, by bearing arms agamst the us..per of my country's rights; Ld in defiance cned he to perform my duty to the end-to retrieve to honour the msulted, the degraded name of Bruce i" O oucester, as little as Northumberland comprehending Bn e s ambiguous declaration, replied. " Let not your heart arrest He w.ll be the more urgent to obliterate by kind- ness th,s mjust.ce, when he understands the aims of t7e Cummu.. I have mjself felt his misplaced wrath and Monthr' '\ "Tr '""""^ ""' ^^^-^^ ^han Ral^h de Monthermer? My case will be yours. Good-night. Bruce May^propu,ous dreams repeat the augury of^ur true f!^ ^7) r'^r'^ "'■'' '''' ^"""^ ^^••'' -"d the two i*^nglish lords left the room. Wallace could now take a more leisurely survey of Bruce He wore a tunic of black ^•eIvet. and all the rest of his' 'tr" : T7Vr'' '^ ^--^'"^ -ouminghue. Soon after the lords had qu.tted him. the buoyant elasticitv of m figure gave way to melancholy retrospections, and he t^ n' H ! Z"l '-^'^ '" """'"^ »^- "P- ^he floor. It ^^as now that Wallace touched the strings of his harp. "The \ H 64 EDWARD I Death of Cathullin" wailed from the sounding notes, but Bruce heard as though he heard them not; they soothed his mood without his perceivin,; what it was that calmed, yet deepened the saddening thoughts which possessed him. His posture remained the same; and sigh after sigh gave the only response to the strains of the bard. Wallace grew impatient for the chimes of that vesper- bell which, by assuring Bruce's attendants that he was gone to rest, would secure from interruption the conference he meditated. Two servants entered. Bruce, scarcely looking up, bade them withdraw, he should not need their atten- danc2. He did not know when he should go to bed ; and he desired to be no further disturbed. The men obeyed; and Wallace, changing the melancholy strain of his harp, struck the chords to the proud triumph he had played in the hall. Not one note of either ballad had he yet sung to Bruce; but when he came to the passage in the latter appropriated to these lines— "Arise, g'ory of Albin, from thy clouJ Ami shine upon thy own!" he could not forbear giving the words voice. Bruce started from his seat. He looked towards the minstrel— he walked the room in great disorder. The pealing sounds of the harp and his own mental confusion prevented his distinguishing that it was not the voice of his senachie. The words alone he heard, and they seemed a call which his heart panted to obey. The ' md of Wallace paused upon the instrument. He looked round to see that observation was indeed at a distance; and then, as the young earl sat in a paroxysm of racking reflections (for they brought self-blame, or rather a blame on his father, which pierced him to the heart), he THV OWN." face p. 0^ 1 1 i 1 HOW WAIJ^ACK MKT KING KDWARD ,- tood ga^,ng on him, stiffened with astonishment. Wallace ma low vo,ce, exclaimed. "My prince, do you not know me- Brure, ^,hout speaking, threw his arms about hrneck He was sUent as he hung on him, but his tears flowed he !hW K ^ ^""^ '^'"'■"^^ '^^ fond embrace of friend, ship, he gently said, "How is it that I not only see yo " a close prisoner, but in these weeds?" ^ Bruce at last forced himself to articulate. "I have known ^.-ry m all its forms since we parted but I have no" tCTcril rVr "^ ^-^^^^'-^^ -hile trembTng ^e pcnl to which you have exposed yourself by seekin-. "colald'frrT"''" °' ^'^^^'' ''' "•- whoLatc eJ wan woulH , ^'■"'' 7'' ^' '"°"" ^° ^^ -'^hin these walls would be a pme r- , which the boiling revenge of he tyrant would give half his kingdom! Think, then mv spies and should you be discovered. Robert Bruce will then have the curse of hi. country added to the judgmen s which already have fallen on his iiead - Bruce then added, that in his more rationa meditations, he had resolved to attempt an escape in the course of a few days. He understood that a deputation of English barons, seeking a ratification of their charter, were soon would, he hoped, draw attention from him. and afford him the opportumty he sought. "In that case," continued he 1 should have made directly to Stirling, and had not 66 KDWARI) I rrovidenrc conducted you to me, I might have unconsciously thrown myself into the midst of enemies. Ji'iv.cs Cummin is too ambitious to have allowed my life to pass unattempted." Whilst he was et spcakir , the door of tl'.e chamber burst open, and bruce's two ultendants rushed into the room with looks aghast. Bruce and Wallace started on th'jir feet and laid their hands on their swords. lUitinsf^ad of anything hostile a|)pearing behind the servants, the inebriated fig-ire of the senachie staggered forward. The men, hardly awaf;p, stood staring and trembling, and looking from the senachie to Wallace; at last one, extricating his terror-struck tongue, and falling on his knees, exclaimed, "Hlessed St. Andrew! here is the senachie and his wraith." Bruce perceived the mistake of his servants, and explaining to them t^at a travelling minstrel had obliged the senachie by performing his duty, he bade them retire to rest, and think no more of their alarm. The intoxicated bard thre.v himself without ceremony on his pallet in the recess, and the servants, though convinced, still shakin^ wiih superstiticis fright, entreated permission to bring their heather beds into their lord's chamber. To deny them was impossible, and all further converse with Wallace that night being put an end to, a couch was laid for him in an interior apartment, and with a grateful pres- sure of the hands, in which their hearts silendy embraced, the chiefs separated to . pose. The second matin-bell sounded from the abbey before he eyes of Wallace opened from the deep sleep which had sealed them. A bath refreshed him from every toil, then renewing the stain on his face and hands with the juice of a nut which he Drried abort him, and once more covering his martial figure and golden hair with the min- strel's cassock, and cowl, he rejr .led his friend. Bruce had previously affected to consider the senachie HOW WALLACK AfKT KINT. KDWARD 67 as still disordered by his last night's excess, and ordering him from h.s presence for at least a day, commanded that the travelling mmstrel should be summoned to supply his The table was spread when Wallace entered, and several aftendants, durmg the repast he discoursed with Wallace on subjects relative to northern literatur .epeating indeed many passages opposite to his own heroic sentiments from Ussian and other Scottish bards. The ,neal finished, and Wallace, to maintain his assumed ttnTna'v ""^^ '\''''''^'' ^ere removing the table, was tunmg h,s harp when the Earl of Gloucester entr ed the mZh r;' J^'^.^--"^* the king had required the attendance of the bo.der minstrel, and that after searching over the castle, the royal seneschal had at last discovered he was m the keep with him. On this being intimated to .lomester. he chose rather to come himself to demand tne harper from his friend, than to subject him to the .nsolence of the royal servants. The king desired to hear The Tnumph, with w iich the minstrel had so much pleased the queen, liruce turned pale at this message, and was opening his m one who has been mv guesc or servant! The Earl of Ch ester will excuse your attendance in the presence." "Not for my life or the minsu. • ^ephed ih* earl 6S F.DWARI) I "the Ling would suspect some mystery, and this innocent man mi^ht fall into peril. Hut as it is, 'is majesty merely wishes to hear him play and sin and I pledge mvsf«lf he shall return in safety." further opposition would only have courte'^' danger, and with as good a grace as he could assume, Ilruce gave his consent, and \Vallace accompanied (lloucester out of the room. I'he earl moved swiftly forward, and 1 atling him through a double line of guards, the folding-doors of the royal, apartment were thrown open ly two knights in waiting, and Wallace found himself " i the presence. Disabled with the wounds which the chL. s own hand had given him, the king lay upon a couch overhung with a crimson-velvet canopy, and his queen, the blooming Margaret of Franc?, sat full of smiles at his feet. The young Countess of Gloucester occupied a scat by her side. Tne countess observed the manner of his obeisance to .he king and queen and herself, and the queen, whispering her with a smile, said, while he was taking his staMon at the harp, "Have your British troubadours usually such m air as that? Am I right or um I wrong?" "Quite right," replied the countess in as low a voic "I suppose he has sung of kings and heroes till he cannot help assuming their step and demeanour." "But how did he come by those eyes?" answered the queen. "If singing of Reuther's 'beaming gaze' have so richly endowed his own, by getting him to teach me his art, I may warble myself into a comple.xion as fair as any northern beauty ! " " But then his must not be the subject of your song," whispered the countess, with a laugh, "for methinks it is rather of the Ethiop hue!" During this short dialogue, which was heard by none "OW WAI.1.AC>; MK-r KlS.i K|,„AKI) ,^ ™cl, „„,„, ;„, ■ -; ^^^f, °f «7-». called for.!, and .he „„„„ ,„ , ' "" """« ''''"ed »ith »onder, .0 brea,he When .""'""I "'''™''' °"''*'-'' ""■■»'';.« hi..,, w her hand ut::,' 'T' "' ""="■ '■■"'™'W™f ™rre':hrtrf;-,r^--n^^ fte ^ad'leade" ^f yo AeTe ,',o?, ""' """*''"''°" ""--' ,.r ^ >""r reDeilious countrymen'" . ^ ^"" °°'h.ng on earth.- replied Wal ace -TV u "oirr -ce-r at rri -• -- -^'"a: 70 KDWARIJ I defend nic." As Wallace spoke, he pointed to a dirk which stuck in his girdle. "You are a bold man and an honest man, I believe," replied the king; "and as my queen desires it, I order your enrolment in my travelling train of musicians. You may leave the presence." "Then follow me to my apartment," cried the queen; "Countess, you will accompany me to see me take my first lesson " A page took up the harp, and Wallace, bowing his head to the king, was conducted by Gloucester to the ante-room of the queen's apartments. Miss Porter, Scollish Chiefs. EDWARD III QUEEN PHILLIPPA AND THK MEN OF CALAIS .irr '^'".'^" '"'"''^ ^^"S "^^ d^P-'^d from San- gate, they wuhm Calais saw well how their succour failed het H^ H -h.-h they were in great sorrow. Then hey desired so much their captain, Sir John of Vienne. speak u,th some person of the host. When the kin^ heard hereof, he sent thither Sir Walter of Manny and Sir Basset: then Sir John of Vienne said to them "Sirs, ye well ho 2T '"'"''^ '■" '^^^^ «^^^-«' -d y- ^-o. el how the kmg my master hath sent me and others to t -s town, and commanded us to keep it to his behoof, in such wise that we take no blame, nor to him no damage; and we have done all that lieth in our power. Now our^ succours hath failed us, and we be so sore strained that we have not to live withal, but that we must all die. or else ZT ^;;'/r"""' ^^'^hout the noble and gentle king of jour will take mercy on us: the which to do we require you to desare him to have pity on us. and to let usg"'and al the '.o 7 ..'' ?' u' '•" ''''' ^^^ ^«^- and castle and -rt ^. wf ^^ therein, the which is great abundance.- vhat of the mtention of the king our master, for he hath ttT "T "'' '''"''' '^"°^' '^' ^'"'h it is not his mind that ye nor they within the town should depart so, for it is h.s W.11 that ye all should put yourselves into his purewil buch as he hst: for they of Calais hath done him such con- 72 EDWARD III traries and dcspites, and hath caused him to dispcnd so much good, and lost many of his men, that he is sore grieved against them." Then the captain said, " Sir, this is too hard a matter to us; Ave are here within, a small sort of knights and squires, who hath truly served the king our master, as well as ye serve yours. In like case and we have endured much pain and unease; but we shall yet endure as much pain as ever knights did rather than to consent that the worst lad in the town should have any more evil than the greatest of us all : therefore, sir, we pray you that of your humility, yet that ye will go and speak to the king of England, and desire him to have pity of us, for we trust in him so much gen- tleness, that by the grace ot God his i)urpose shall change." Sir Walter of Manny and Sir Basset returned to the king, and declared to him all that had been said. The king said he would none otherwise, but that they should yield them up simply to his pleasure. Then Sir Walter said, "Sir, saving your displeasure in this, ye may be in the wrong, for ye shall give by this an evil ensample : if ye send any of us your servants into any fortress, we will not be very glad to go if ye put any of them in the town to death after they be j^ielded, for in likewise they will deal with us if the case fell like:" the which words divers other lords that were there present sustained and maintained. Then the king said, "Sirs, I will not be alone against you all; therefore Sir Walter of Manny ye shall go and say to the captain, that all the grace that he shall find now in me is, that they let six of the chief burgesses of the town come out bare-headed, bare-footed, and bare-legged, and in their shirts, with halters about their necks, with the keys of the town and castle in their hands, and let them six yield themselves purely to my will, and the residue I will take to mercy." i f. j QUEEN PHILLIPPA AND THE MEN OE CALAIS ;, Then Sir AValter returned, and fo.md Sir John of Viennc I « .11 on the wall, abiding for an answer: tLn Sir Wa^r "Well '" ^'In'tT^ '''' '- -"'^ «et of the kilf" Well, quoth S,r John, "Sir, I require you tarrv here a certam space till I go into :he town and sh^ hi o the commons of the town, who sent me hither. Ihen Sir John went into the market-place, and sounded there, then the captam made report of all that he had done, and sa.d, "Sirs, it will be none otherwise herefo'e no.v take advice and make a short answer." Th;n aH the people began to weep and to make such sorrow that 1 'e Tpt'pLoLr ' '"' ^' ^'^"' ''' ^^p'^'" ^--'^ nl7 ,, ^' '°'^ "P ^"d said openly, "Sirs great and small, great mischief it should be to suffe to d^fuch Ten thesis" ^"^"' ^''" '' ^^"^"^^ - ^^^-^^e f^;::;:^-o?ri::-:-r-:j^ When 1 e hJ \? •'; '"^ ^° ^"^ ">' ''^^ '" J-P-dv." Uhen he had thus sa.d, every man worshipped him ::' ^r^,r ^' ^^^" ^^ ^^^ ^- ^^^^^^ - -e;;:^ Then another honest burgess rose and said, "I will keen WThrr "' 'T' '^"^^'^^^'' '^^ — all d Jo i^ayre. Ihen up rose Jacques of Wyssant. who was ri.h in goo s and heritage; he said also thlt he'.o dfoM ' , pan> wuh h.s two cousins in likewise: so did Peter "f ^V>ssant, h,s brother: and then rose two other the>Ld 74 EDWARD III »[ tlicy would do the same. Then they went and apparelled them as the kinj; desired. Then the captain went with them to the gate: there was great lamentation made of men, women, and children at their departing: then the gate was opened, and he issued out with the six burgesses and closed the gate again, so that they were between the gate and the barriers. Then he said to Sir Walter of Manny, "Sir, I deliver here to you as captain of Calais, by the whole consent of all the people of the town, these six burgesses; and I swear to you truly, that they be and were to-day most honourable, rich, and most notable burgesses of all the town of Calais ; wherefore, gentle knight, I require you, pray the king to have mercy on them, that they die not." Quoth Sir Walter, "I cannot say what the king will do, but I shall do for them best I can." Then the barriers were opened, the six burgesses went towards the king, and the captain entered again into the town. When Sir Walter presented these burgesses to the king, they kneeled down, and held uj) their hands and said, "Gentle king, behold here we six, who were burgesses of Calais and great merchants; we have brought to you the keys of the town and of the castle, and we submit our- selves clearly into your will and pleasure, to save the resi- due of the people of Calais, who have suffered great pain. Sir, we beseech your grace to have mercy and pity on us through your high noblesse." Then all the earls and barons, and other that were there, wept for pity. The king looked felly on them, for greatly he hated the people of Calais, for the great damages and displeasures they had done him on the sea before. Then he commanded their heads to be stricken off: then every man required the king for mercy, but he would hear no men in that behalf: then Sir Walter of JNIanny said, "Ah, noble king! for Cod's sake, m I HLMBLV RKOUIRE YOf THAT YE WILL TAKE MKRCY ON THESE SIX BL'Rf.ESSES." i| /•'«rr /. ,V QUEEN I'HILLIPI'A AND THE MEN OF CALAIS 75 refrain your courage; ye have tlie name of sovereign no blesse, therefore now do not a thing that should blemish your renou-n, nor to give cause to some to speak of you villainy; every man will say it is a great cruelty to nut to death such honest persons, who by their own wills put themselves into your grace to save their company " Then the king urged away from him, and commanded to send for the hangman, and said. "They of Calais have caused many of my men to be slain, wherefore these shall die in likewise." Then the queen kneeled down, and sore weeping, said, "Ah, gentle sir, since I passed the sea in great peril, I have desired nothing of you; therefore now I humbly require you, in the honour of the Son of the Virgin Mary, and lor ihe love of me, that ye will take mercv^of these SIX burgesses." The king beheld the queen, and stood still m a study a space, and then said, "Ah dame! I would ye had been as now in some other place, ye make such request to me that I cannot deny you; wherefore I give them to you. to do your pleasure with them " Then the queen caused them to be brought into her chamber and made the halters to be taken from their necks and :aused them to be new clothed, and gave them their dinner and their leisure; and then she gave each of them six nobles and made them to be brought out of the host in safe-uard' and set at their liberty. " Loku Heknkrs, Froissait's C/tronh/t'. M RICHARD ir IIOTSI'UR AND I)f)L'(;i.AS A DUSKY twilight, as yet indifferently assisted by the beams of the just rising moon, wrapped the brown moors of Redesdale in partial obscurity, when, on the 31st July, 1388, the English, from a patch of elevated ground, became able to discern the encampment of the Douglas's army. They perceived at on^e, what was the fact, namely, that ' the Scots had sat down before a little fortalil^^*^ called the castle of Otterbourne, standing near the Rede; to which mountain stream the Otter is an insignificant tributary; but whether it had surrendered to them, or still held out, could not be ascertained. At any rate there was the enemy, and the ardent desire for combat was no longer likely to he balked. Redoubling the celerity of their advance, the English, filing along the margin of the Rede, arrived so near the Scottish tents as almost to give them a hope of making infall before their occupants were in fit state to receive them; an event scarcely conceivable, as they could not be supposed ignorant of the dangerous proximity of the En- glish forces. "Does the Douglas mean to brave us by this shew of seeming carelessness?" observed Hotspur to some around him; "or is it that the drowsy herd he rules having been overdriven, lies snoring on the turf, watchers and all?" "By my fay! I can hardly guess, Percy," replied De Grey; "but this I trow, 'twere no more than policy to give our own wearied followers leave to stretch iheuiselves iii 7' HOTSPUR AND DOUdLAS 77 correspondent sort; otherwise, tardy is these sleepers may be in stirring, they'll spring at last too lusty for lis." "Tcoh! the sounds they presently saall wink and start at, will stupify their waking senses." "They wake already," remarked the young Fitzhugh, as a peal of shouts rose upon the night breeze, which had hitherto only been broken by the dapping of pennons. "Hear how they bay and howl. I marvel wherefore!" "Mayhap to see the symbol of our house, scaling the sky," said Sir Ralph Percy, pointing to the crescent moon, which had just then mastered a pile of clouds. "'Tis the common nature of envious curs and wolfish prowlers to otler such salute to brightness." "The Douglas would better prove his title to comn.and did he extend his battle in front of an open ramp, than' keep his lances pent amongst its lumber," criticised the Heron. "That be his dole Sir William," rejoined Hotspur; "let us bring it swith upon him." Sir Henry Heron then issued orders along the column of his troops, to close up, and prepare at the first signal to pour the onslaught. Meanwhile the Scots continued unaccoun- tably hidden behind the tents, rude bough huts, wains, and other baggage which formed the body of their irregular camp, giving no indications of hostile alertness beyond what might be presumed from the hum of general motion which could be heard, and the somewhat exaggerated shouting wherewith a few who .nade themselves visible hailed the approach of their assailants. Eagerly did Hotspur examine the grove of objects mostly inanimate, lying before him: with a will to choose the point upon which he should direct his own course but without detecting the post of thovc ensigns that would have determined his. De Neville, and the esqnire ( 78 klCHARl) II Farneley with equal interest made tlic st riitiny, and with the same fortune. " Pennons advance ! " at length cried Hotspur. " Man hmen I to the onset!" Breaking away, like a torrent suddenly un- dammed, the Northumbrian army rushed forward, and beating down in an instant the feeb" opposition offered, penetrated the Scottish camp in every direction. Then, anrl not till then, the policy of the invaders became developetl. At the first advertisement of assault in prospect, the Scots, abandoning their camp to grooms and horseboys, had taken an undetected circuit, with a view to falling upon the English flank. This they achieved so far that, when the assailants were fairly entangled amidst the baggage and encumbrances, they appeared ready to seize the expected advantage. Raimond Farneley wap one of the earliest to catch sight of the impending' storm. It came on in imposing character. Displayed by a flood of moonlight, the Caledonian power in full battalia presented itself, advancing with rapid force to the attack. Bold as he was, the spectacle of such a formidable and compact body, pressing forward with all the confidence of anticipat< d victory— making the very ground shake beneath its heavy passage, and the (|uiet night air ring with wild cries, he felt momentarily dismayed. But he fought under a leader as f|uick to discover the perilous visitation as himself, and to whom dismay, for any cau.se. was a feeling unknown. "Ho, mates, ho!" he shouted, making his deep but sono- rous voice audible above the general din. "The foe's main battle's on our right! Knights! look to your pennons!— serry spears, serry I change front. The knaves think they've limed us; we must speak them a rough nay-say. What prickers are those that loiter 'mong the spoil?- dalesmen, 1 warrant -up, up, and take your ground, ye land raking rogues! is this a time for pilfering?" r. : HOTSPUR AND DOUdLAS efforts 79 '1 could i\v fully f horse lously uriv ny prod.mous eriom. m wl.irh he was well scrondeu ,> other leaders, he sucree.led in hrinKinK his f.,rce into hii ry al.Knemrnt against the nearin^ i harge. This done, or rathrr the moment it appeared in a fair way to he done h- spurred out beyond the foremost -anks. ^ " We will not let our horses cool, my hearts ! " he exclaimed 1-orward to the meetinRl-upon em! -St (icori-e for Kng- land! and Ksperance for Percy!" He appealed to boilir.„' blood. At the war lish chivalry dashed on amain, and ere a fres be drawn the rival hosts closed with a tremendous. In a few moments more every and foot, on either side, was engaged in fh- A fight, inveterate, sanguinary and prolu, Order or arrangement of action, there was v ■. times, the murderous iron wave surged .uuu ^„,,, way, then rolled heavily back the other, mr^ng at -Mh How rather the indom.uble spirit of the stru,.gle, thai n^ change m its fortune. The war-cries, at -he be ,e lre(|uent and piercing, gradually became le*s often ite, ^4 and then, in tones hoarse and indistinct. \.at the , un rrf l.lows-the clash and clang of steel, increased mthe, ^fc dunmished, and yells, not of defiance t of i- began more to afflict the ear. The brigh ,„oon ...m ' m the heavens, rendered the horrible flashings brand, and battle-axt, but too distinct, as they sxn . circled above the eddying throng. The slogan of the Douglas, a sound which usually r.' ,... and diverted elsewhere the tide of ordinary adver- rics was the breath of attraction to at least three desperate warriors on this eventful evening. Need we say that the foremost of these, and he who hacked and clove a path for his f. Mow- braves, was the invincible Hotspur. He saw his captured banner in the hands of the enemy and resolved to win =t back ! "I ill. (I 8o KlCHAkl) II I lie ertort was made and wa.s sucrsslul. The ha|)Ics,s cs<|uire, (ilcndonwin, to whom the unlucky honour of bearin- the trophy had l,ecn committed, gave up life and trusl together. " Hahahi a rescue ! a rescue! ' shouted Hotspurexultingly weaving -IS recovered banner in the air. "The Fercv for himself! What .Scot dares the Percy?" "I-the Douglas !" rose in answer from a little distance, and with the defiance, the furious utterer could he seen workmg through the press to back it. The parties here being in the very centre of the mcU'e, a dire confusion reigned around, and blows were dealing so fast and indiscriminately that each mans constant care was necessarily that of his own head. Farneley desj.erately tusked at the moment by a huge Lothian man-at-arms, ;oun.. exclusive employment most unpropitiously for the juncture. "Karneley, my bold es.,uirc,- cried Hotspur, snatching a luirned look about, before springing to meet the Douglas. Uhcre art thou?" There was no response. "Ha!I)e iNcv.lle ! (recognizing the young knight; thou art well at ca 1. 1 here is the toy you covet ; keep it as thy lo e dictates- 1 care not for it now, and must have free hands. Dougia; have at thee ! " Thus speaking, he threw to I)e Neville the bannei he had just regained, and urged on to a collision with his raging foe. Farneley dismissed to earth his personal op,>onent barely '" time to note, wfh a bitter pang of disappointment, the above transfer. But he spurred vengefullv after his lord, to the i^ace where Douglas, Swinton, Lundie, and other famous Scottish lances created a whirlpool amidst the billows of the conflict. "Esperance! esperance!" repeated Hotspur, riding at the I- rSPERANCE ! tSPKRANCE ! Kice / SO i 1 HOTSPUR AND DOUGLAS gi Liddesdale thane with a force that overthrew an esquire man and horse, who chanced to impede his career "tS hour's worth a life-time!" "Thit'" ""fu^l "".^ °"' °^ "^'" *="^d the Douglas. Th ne-and this for it." retorted Percy, driving the poin of h.s lance with such amazing force as to piercVthrou'h Douglass shield and even penetrate his hauberk of th." .h'^ ^r' ^""t'"^ *° ^'^ ^^•PP^'- ^"th 'the might of the thrust, but ere Hotspur, quitting his entangled lance could pursue advantage with his mace. Lundie and Swinton fell upon him. From their assault Farneley and stout Roger Widdmgton only freed him in time to encounter a maddened Plungejrom the wounded Douglas, again rightedt h^ The battle here thickened, and the flight of blows accu mulated to siu:h a deg.ee as to defy any attempt a deSn" Horses reeled, riders sunk, helmets crashed. Gory clods torn from the heel-ploughed ground, bounded aloft and ZTVr of sprinkling blood flew about thefl of the combatants. Several times Percy and the Doug as sundered by the rolling tide, were compelled to wastethe; unnva led prowess upon meaner heads. Here we mfgh tell of approved men of both countries slain, but muTt be content exclusively to name poor Delaval. who. emu ous m the same race with Neville and Farndey, ac"d the hazards of this sport, and fell. Space and verge enlarging, the opposed chiefs-the two decision, the wager of their mortal bodies. Ill live to slay thee, yet, boy Warden!" cried Douglas desperately disguising the effects of a second wound "e' perance shall sicken on this heath " "It tells me not," replied the other briefly; his menacer's assault requiring other than wordy answer. "^^""^^^'h H 82 RICHARD II Each then fought with his long two-handed sword; for Percy's mace had been severed in his grasp. At last Douglas causing his destrier to make a demi-volte, wherefrom that of Percy unavoidably swerved, discharged with all his strength a blow which sheared the pauldron from the other's shoulder. In the act he overstrained his reach, and purchased a return that proved a parting one. Percy saw his valiant antagonist bowed to his horse's neck under the stroke, and saw no more of its effects, or of him on whom they told; for a fresh sway of the battUng ranks and his own ardour carried him immediately after into a further mass of the enemy. But ne 'doughty' Douglas had received his death. Sink- ing from his steed, he rolled to the earth, and was only saved from trampling hoofs by the devoted exertions of his faithful chaplain Lundie and one or two others. They raised him ; but it was only to receive his dying exhortation. "I die like my forefathers," gasped out the expiring hero, " on a field of battle, not on a bed of sickness. Con- ceal my death, defend my standard, and avenge my fall. It is an old proverb that a dead man shall win a field. I hope it will be accomplished this night." The wish of Douglas to have his fate concealed from his followers was as far as possible observed. No luil • f the war-tempest succeeded ; save that which arose from the dimi- nished numbers and exhausted bodies of the living elements. Victory seemed equidistant from the cli.tch of both nations. Indeed, the men of each were so intermingled, and so ob- stinate in fight, that it appeared the triumph of the one side, could only be achieved by the utter extermination of the other. Gradually, however, signs of subsiding battle began to manifest themselves. The troops pursuing various bursts of ardour had scattered widely. Some had drawn off in bodies, not shrinking from the strife, but convinced of the inutility of maintaining it. Upon the English the unprecedented HOTSPUR AND DOUGLAS 83 ^t 1 '^' ^7 ^'^ '^°''"" P^^^^'^'-ly hard. Numbers of them dropped from sheer fatigue amongst the heaZer and others strove vainly to drag their worn out frames be' nd he range of mjury. From the same cause man" Ss lonterT'"%t "'"'' "°""^^^ °" ^^^^^s which cou^no longer bear the.r weight, were compelled individuallv ^o yield themselves prisoners to less tired Scots. Not^thsld -g a 1 this. ,t was long ere the battle entirely cea ^d Here and there, in different parts of the plain! thefresherTr stouter warriors singled out opponents, o shocked in tnobbmg groups; and still some border slogan or su h ones ^ "Stand to it, Liddesdalel''-"fightt T";edae-' marked the stubborn spirit that prevailed To pronounce distinctly on the final issue of this severe battle, ,s rendered wellnigh impossible by the diverse state ments history has handed to us. The English h to anj claim the victory for their countrymen, and attribute he arcumstance of the Scots having kept their ground to rdn he latternation seizing exclusively the testimony of Frois art, assert the contrary. On one point of recordjiowev^ they all agree, and that is, the obstinate unflinching manhood which characterized its duration. mannood Anonymous, Otterboiinie. HENRY V AGINCOURT i I \l 11 , I Spread out in a long line over the face of the country, the English army occupied a number of villages, keeping a good watch lest the enemy, large bodies of whom had been apparent during the morning, should take them by surprise and overwhelm them by numbers. Small parties of the freshest men were lodged in tents between the different villages, so that a constant communication might be kept up, and support be ready for any point attacked; and, throughout the whole host, reigned that stern and resolute spirit, the peculiar characteristic of the English soldier}', and which has assured them the victory in so many fields against more impetuous, but less determined, adversaries. Yet none, however resolute and brave in Henry's army, could help feeling that a great and perilous day was before them, when it was known that at least a hundred and twenty-five thousand men, comprising the most renewed chivalry of Europe, were collected to oppose a force of less than twenty-five thousand, worn with a long and difficult march, and weakened by sickness and want of provisions. Nevertheless, during the whole night of Thursday, the 24th of October, 1415, from hamlet and village, *rom priory and casde, from tent and field, wherever the English were quartered, rose up wild bursts of music floating on the air to the French camp, as, round the innumerable watch-fires which lighted the whole sky with their lurid glare, sat the enemy in their wide extended position at Roussauville and Agincourt. 8* AGINCOURT 85 In one of the small villages near the head-quarters of the king, was stationed Sir John Grey. The knight had hurred at about half-a-m.les distance from his own Ihe moon was shining bright and unclouded; not a vapour was m the sky; and. as he approached the guards which were stationed round Henry's temporary resfdence' small party walkmg slowly up the road. One was half a ^ep m advance of the rest; and there was someth^fin was the king Hurrymg after, he soon overtook the group and jomed .n their conversation in a low voice Thefr' speech was of the morrow's battle, their minds fixed upon that which was to decide the destiny of thrones and I he kmg, too, walked on before in silence, with his eves bent upon the ground, and his look grave and thoughSi the b orofT \r'r' °"^ °'*^^ ^'"^^^' he came'upon the brow of a small acclivity, from which the whole of the soldiers whlfor^TV'^' '' ^^°PP^^' ^^^ distinguished soldiers who followed him gathered round; and turnin- owards them with a countenance now all smiles the mona h ad Somewhere near this spot must be the place-I marked :irs::itf:oi!:^^°^^"^- --■--*- 'A little more in advance, sire." replied Sir Thomas of Erpingham. answering the former part'of the kings sp eh sp aJ to Itir: T' h^^^' ^'^ Frenchmen'wi,rhave Tods ,r f ' '" '"'^ '^^""^ *h^ ^^^e «f the two the edVe of Ir.' "' T '^" ^-'hin a half-bowshot of the edge of those trees, they must coop themselves up in the narrow space, where their numbers will be little .ood" , 86 HENRY V . I = "You are right, renowned knight," said the king, laying his hand famiUarly upon Erpingham's shoulder. " I did not mean just here. The standard shall be pitched where yon low tree rises; the vanward a hundred paces farther down, the rearward where we now stand," "Does your Grace mark that meadow there upon the right," asked Sir John Grey, "close upon the edge of the wood?" "I do, good friend," answered Henry; "and will use it as I know you would have. But go down first, and see hoAv it is defended; for we must not expose our footmen to the French horse." Sir John Grey and the Earl of Suffolk hurried on, while Henry examined the rest of the field ; but they soon returned with information, that the meadow was defended by a deep and broad ditch, impassable for heavy horses; and Henry replied, " Well, then, we will secure it for ourselves by our good bowmen. Though we be so few, we can spare two hundred archers to gall the Frenchmen's flank as they come up." " Ay ! would to Heaven," cried one of the gentlemen present, "that all the brave men who are now idle in Eng- land could know that such a field as this lies before their king, and they had time to join us." "Ha! what is that?" cried Henry. "No, by my life! I would not have one man more. If we lose the day, which God forbid we should, we are too many already; and if we win this battle, as I trust in Heaven we shall, I would not share the glory of the field with any more than need- ful. Come, my good lords and noble knights, let us go on and view the ground farther, and when all is decided we will place guards and light fires to insure that the enemy be not beforehand with us." Thus saying he walked on, conversing principally with Sir Thomas of Erpingham upon AGINCOURT 87 the array of his men; while the other gentlemen followed, talking together, or listening to the consultation between the king and his old and experienced knight. As ihey went on, various broken sentences were thus overheard -as, "Ay, that copse of brushwood will guard our left right well -and the hedges and ditches on the right will secure us from the charge of men-at-arms. Their bowmen we need not fear, my liege." "I have bethought me, my old friend, of a defence, too, for our archers in the front. We have all heard how at Banrockburn, in the time of good King Edward, pitfalls were dug to break the charf=ng horse. We have no time for that; but I think, if we ould plant before our archers long stakes pointed with iron, a little leaning forward to- wards the foe, the British bows would be secure against the chivalry of France; or, if they were assailed and the enemy did break through, 't^vould be in wild disorder and rash disarray, as was the case at Cressy." "A marvellous good thought, my liege; but every battle has a change. Those who were once attacked, become the attackers, and should such be our case, how will you clear the way for our own men from the stakes that were planted against the enemy?" "That must be provided against. Sir Thomas. Each man must pull up the stake near him." "Nay. my liege," said Sir John Grey joining in, "let a hundred billmen be ranged with the second line of archers; and at a word given, pass through and root up the stakes." "Right, right. Sir John," answered the king. "Then the fury of our charge, when charge we may, will not be checked by our own defences. Our van must be all archers, with the exception of the brown bills— and I think to give the comn.and— " "I do beseech you, my lord the king." said the Duke of P I- 88 HENRY V it a^dVadT'"^ ^T ''''"^' "^° ''' ""^ have that post, and lead the van of your battle. Words have been sDoken TLT7^ '"^ ''^" '''''^ ^h'^h --'^e me ea^er for a pkce of danger. You must not refuse me. royal princ^" and l^f • rrT' '""'"' "^"^>'- "«" /our'honour and good faith, I have as much reliance as on your skill :"m„^gStr^' "° '"^" ^"^^ '° ^-^^- ^- - - tak?nM,v^r^''' ^'' ^'"^ "^"^ ^'^^^^ •*' ^"d if he had taken any share, as some suspected, in the conspiracy of Southampton, he expiated his fault on the succeeS g day by glorious actions and a hero's death theteS" ''iV'%^'"^' 'i'" '^"^ ^"'•^'^^^ examination of the field, you understand our disposition, noble knights- and to you I ent-ust it to secure the ground durinfthe night, and to make the arrangements for to morrow. Coul of York, you lead the van. I myself, with my young brother Oxford anVs ^\T'''''' "'" ^^'""^-^ ^^^ -^^^^^^- ?^T^ ^ °^' ^°" ""^ '^^ '°^d marshal shall give us counsel. My uncle of Exeter shall lead our rearward Hne e^^'Tet":;;''^ o^^rpingham shall be our marshal o the field Let all men in the centre fight on foot; and let the cavalry be ranged on either wing to improve the vfctory I hope to wm. When all is ready, back fo your beds and ^ep first praying God for good success to-mo„ow Then m the morning early, feed your men. Let them consume whatever meat is left: for if we gain the day they sh"l find plenty on before; and if we lose it, k., m thbks w want provisions." '"cuunKs, win .hJtige!''"'' "" ""' ""'"' """ "^"'^•' "^^ "'"'•■^' The morning of the twenly.fifth of October, St. Crispin's day, dawned bright, but no. altogether clear There « a shght haey m,st in the air, sumcient to soften the t^sum AGINCOUR'F g^ objects, but neither to prevent the eye from rangin- to a great distance, nor the sun. which was shining warm above from pounng h,s beams through the air. and tinging the' whole vapour wuh a golden hue. Early in the moLng both arm.es were on foot; but more bustle and eagerness was observable m the French camp than amongst the En^ hsh who showed a calmer and less excited spirit, weighing Tc to ?r;'r °' 'u' '^^' ^"' ^^°"«h ""'« doubting of them ^"^ "° ^'^^' '"^ j°^'^"' '^'^ '^y ^^'°^e 'I'he French, however, were all bustle and activity. Men- at-arms were seen hurrying from place to place, gathering 'ror that nr \ k'""" '"'^""^ =^"^ ^^^-» ^°- to do he Z '^"S^f^'^'*^'^ '"^^orable fate forbade in most cases ccents o7 ' T ?'''"^ "" ^^^^'^ ^ ^^ -de but SDeedr and r'' K?^ ^-t'^f-ction. prognostications of a vhom'th " ' ^'"°""' ^''='°'^ °^«^ the enemy, to of r LhLT rTT""" '^ ^^ '^^^' ^'^ *-^« the number •nV L ^"^'^l^ ^°^^' ^-^d bloody resolutions of aveng- princes froL t f ^"^'"'" '''^^^^ ^^^ '^^"g -"d othe a?ar'nf T T '"■°^' '^"'"'"^ ™'«'^t be expected; for a yam people ,s almost always a sanguinary one A p oud nation can better afford to forgive. Nothing was heard I which wSl 'r f^'^^P^^d some less jocund observations he Ir h ? "■' '"^ ^'"^^ ^" ^ ^°^^ tone, amongs the older but not wiser of the French nobility, prompted by the superstitious spirit of the times, which was apt to draw auguries from very trifling indicate - ^ whn^ • °" ^'^ '^^ '""'•^ °f these islanders made the whde air nng throughout the night? " said one. And ours was quite silent," said another. iril HENRY V II "We iiave no instruments," rejoined a third. "This king of theirs is fond of such toys, and plays himself like a minstrel I am told; but I remarked a thing which is more serious; their horses neighed all night, as if eager for a course, and ours uttered not a sound." "That looks bad, indeed," observed one of the others. "Perhaps their horses, as well as their men, arc fright- ened," answered another. "I have seen no sign of fear," replied one of the first speakers, with a shake of the head. "Why, the rumour goes," said the first, "that Henry of England sent on Wednesday, to announce that he would give up Harfleur, and' pay for all the damage he has done, if we would but grar.t him a free passage to his town of Calais." "It is false," replied the first speaker. "I asked the Constable last night my.self. and he said that there is not a word of truth in the whole tale, and that Henry will fight like a boar at bay; so every Frenchman must do his devoir; for if, with six times his numbers, we let the Englishmen win the day, it must be by our folly or our own fault." As he spoke, the Constable D'Albret, followed by a gallant train of knights and noblemen, rode past on a splen- did charger, horse and man completely armed; and, turning his head as he passed each group, he shouted, "To the standard, gentlemen ! Under your banners, men of France ! You will want shade for the sun shines, and we have a hot day before us." Thus saying he rode on, and the French lines were speedily formed in three divisions like the English. The first, or vanguard, comprised eight thousand men-at-arms, all knights or squires, four thousand archers, and fifteen hundred cross-bow men, and was led by the Constable, the Dukes of Orleans and Bourbon, with some twenty other AGiNCOURT c)i [liKh lords of France, while upon either wing appeared a T ^°^y °f '•»'"«e" ^^^valry. The whole line was glittering with g. ded armour, and guy with a thousand banners of embroidered arms; and, as the sun shone upon it, no courtly pageant was ever more bright and beautiful to see The main body consisted of a still larger force, under the Dukes of Bar and Alenvon. with six coimts, each a great vassal of the crown of France. 'J"he rearguard was more numerous still; but in it were comprised the light armed and irregular troops, and a mixed multitude upon nhom httle dependence could be placed. When all were arranged in order on the side of the hill the Constable addressed the troops in words of high and manly courage, tinged perhaps with a little bombast; and when he had done, the whole of that vast force remained gazmg towards the opposite slope, and expecting every moment to see the English army appear, and endeavour to force Its way onward towards Calais. As yet. but a few scattered bodies of the invaders were apparent upon the ground, and some time passed ere the heads of the different corps were descried issuing forth in perfect order to the sound of martial music, and taking up their position on the field marked out by Henry during the night before. Their ap- pearance, as compared with that of the French host, was poor and insignificant in the extreme. Traces of travel and strife were evident in their arms and in their banners; and their numbers seemed but as a handful opposed to the long line which covered the hill before them Yet there was something in the firm array, the calm and mea- sured step, the triumphant sound of their trumpets and their clarions, the regular lines of their archers and of their cavalry, the want of all haste, confusion or agitation appa- rent through the whole of that small host, which was not wiiixout Its ettect upon their enemies, who began to feel 9* HKNRY V ^ !| that there would be indeed a 1. ttle, fierce, l,Ioody. and determined, before the day so fondly counted theirs was really won. Prompt and well-disciplined, with their bows on their shoulders, their quivers and their swords at their sides, and their heavy axes in their hands, the English archers at once took up the position assigned to them, with as much precision as if at some pageant or muster. Each instantly planted m the earth a heavy iron-shod stake, which he carried m his left hand, and drove it in with blows from the back of his axe; and then each strung his bow and drew an arrow from the quiver. Behind, at a short distance, came the battle of the king, consisting of heavy armed infantry, principally billmen, wit': u strong force of cavalry on either hand. 'i"he rearward, under the Duke of Exeter appeared shortly after on the hill above; and each of the two last divisions occupied its appointed ground with the same regularity and tranquil order which had been dis- played by the van. The preparations which they perceived, the pitching of the stakes, the marshalling of the English forces, and the position which they had taken up. showed the French commanders that the King of England was determined his battle should be a defensive one; and the appearance of some bodies of the enemy in the neighbourhood of the village of Agincourt, with the burning of a mill and house upon the same side, led them to believe that some stratagem was meditated, which must be met by prompt action with the principal corps of Henry's army. That there were difficulties in attacking a veteran force in such a position the Constable D'Albret clearly saw, but he was naturally of a bold and rash disposition; his enemies of the Burgundian party had more than once accused him of his irresolution and incapacity; and he resolved that no AGINCOURT ^ obstacle should daunt or induce him to avoid a battle with such an overpowering force at his command. He Kave the order then to move forward at a slow pace, and probably did not perceive the full perils of his undertaking till his troops had advanced too far, between the two woods to retreat with either honour or safety. When he discovered this, It would seem an order was given to halt, and for some mmutes the two armies paused, observing each other, the English determmed not to quit their ground, the French hesitating to attack. A solemn silence pervaded the whole field; but then Henry himself appeared, armed from head to foot in gilded armour, a royal crown encircling his helmet covered with precious stones, and his beaver up. displaying his counte- nance to his own troops. Mounted on a magnificent white horse, he rode along the line of archers in the van, within half a bowshot of the enemy, exhorting the brave yeomen m loud tones, and with a cheerful face, to do their duty to their country and their king. Every motive was held out that could induce his soldiery to do gallam deeds; and he ended by exclaiming, "For my part, I swear that Eng- land shall never pay ransom for my person, nor France triumph over me in life; for this day shall either be famous for my death, or in it I will win honour and obtain renown. Along the second and third line he likewise rode, follow- ed close by Sir Thomas of Erpingham with his bald head Dare, and the white hair upon his temples streaming in he wind; and to each division the king addressed nearly the same words. The only answer that was made by the soldiers was, "On. on! let us forward!" and the only com- munication which took place between the king and his marshal of the host occurred when at length Henry resumed his position m the centre of the main battle .> •rfi j;ti i 94 HENRY V ' "They are near enough, my liege," said the old knight. "Is your grace ready?" "Quite," replied H -ry. "Have you left a guard over the baggage?" "As many as could 'C spared, si> i," replied the marshal. "Shall we begin?" Henry bowed his head ; and the old knight setting spurs to his horse, galloped along the face of the three lines, waving his truncheon in his hand, and exclaiming, "Ready, ready ! Now, men of England, now ! " Then in the very centre of the van, he stopped by the side of the Duke of Y^ork, dismounted from his horse, put on his casque, which a page lield ready; and then, hurling his leading staff high into the air, as he glanced over the archers with a look of fire, he cried aloud, " Now strike 1 " Each English yeoman suddenly bent down upon his knee and kissed the ground. Then starting up, they gave one loud, universal cheer, at which, to use the terms of the French historian, "The Frenchmen were greatly astound- ed." Each archer took a step forward, drew his bow-string to his ear, and, as the van of the enemy began to move on, a cloud of arrows fell amongst them, not only from the front, but from the meadow on their flank, piercing through armour, driving the horses mad with pain, and spreading confusion r.nd disarray amidst the immense multitude which, crowded into that narrow field, could only advance in lines thirty deep. "Fo;..ard, forward!" shouted the French knights. "On for your country and your king!" cried the Con- stable D'Albret; but his archers and cross-bowmen would not move; and, plunging their horses through them, the French men-at-arms spurred on in terrible disarray, while still amongst them fell that terrible shower of arrows, seeming to seek out with unerring aim every weak point TIIKY GAVE ONE LOUD, UNIVERSAL CHEER." Face p. gf ii I ■ ! ^1 -i ^i i.^H ^11 J ^H ■Lil i 1 "> i^^^H i='flH 1 AGINCOURT „ l,ni ft ™, ""^^stPtale, transfixing the hand to the eve the '" """"^'^ ''"^'' ™-«»m«, if .e mly t a hundL :;°? "^ "'^ *■■*"* "■'■"'elves no, „„„'^^^„ arche"sl J'ir ""'^ ""* *= ^'"'''^ "V vWch the conrrri/ott^^-:^^^^^^ tt"rThevTe"r k".!, '''"' *^«=' '■« --d w* consternation and confusion which already reigned befnV irdldTT'/'^ """^ °' ^^^ English archers by the evTdenf H f' ""''^ '^'■"^" "P ' ^"^ encouraged rreniediable, slaughtenng immense numbers with th^ir Up t:t""' ^1 ^^-^-ng terror into prLipUeflg Up to this period, Henry, surrounded by some of hi, mu, Dut seeing his archers engaged hand to hand with the r:; tithXf TJt ': -""r " ^ ''"^«-' '" '■ *^ "Pon fte le ., aytf .?Te* llZl 'n'"' '"* **""' with his -nm^ 7 ^^"^y ^^^'■e to move down yet ■ A C ', ° '"PP°'' *^^"^"- The enemy may rally the band to wt'. ri°'' '° bear the order; andinstantS^ 4 wh ,e tL . """^'T^ '™^^^^ ^"^P^ d°- i" firm No further resistance, indeed, was made ty the advanced I 96 HENRY V guard of the French. Happy was the man who could save himself by flight ; the archers and the cross-bowmen separ- ating from each other, plunged into the wood ; many of the men-at-arms dismounting from their horses, and casi".ngoff their heavy armour, followed their example; and others, flying in small parties, rallied upon the immense body led by the Dukes of Bar and Alengon which was now advancing in the hope of retrieving the day. It was known that the Duke of Alen^on had sworn to take the King of England alive or dead, and the contest now became more fierce and more regular. Pouring on in thunder upon the English line, the French men-at-arms seemed to bear all before them ; but though shaken by the charge, the English cavalry gal- lantly maintained their ground; and, as calm as if sitting at the council-table, the English King from the midst of the battle, even where it was fiercest around him, issued his commands, rallied his men, and marked with an approv- ing eye, and often with words of high commendation, the conduct of the foremost in the fight. " Wheel your men. Sir John Grey," he cried, " and take that party in the green upon the flank. Bravely done, upon my life; Sir Harry Dacre seems resolved to outdo us all. Give him support, my Lord of Hungerford. See you not that he is surrounded by a score of lances ! By the holy rood he has cleared the way- Aid him, aid him, and they are routed there!" "That is not Sir Harry Dacre, my lord the king," said a gentleman near. " He is in plain steel armour. I spoke with him but a minute ago." "On, on," cried Henry, litde heeding him. "Restore the array on the right, Sir Hugh Basset. They have bent back a little. On your guard, on your guard, knights and gendemen! Down with your lances. Here they comel" and, at the same moment, a large body of French, at the AGlNCOURi ^y |-»I1 gallop, dashed towards the spot where the king stood In an .nstant, the Duke of Gloucester, but a f.w yards from the monarch was encountered by a knight of great height and strength, and cast headlong to the ground. Henry spurred up to h.s brother's defence, and covering him with h.s shield, ramed a thousand blows, with his large heavy sword, upon the armour of his adversary, while tto of th^ dukes scmres drew the young princedom beLathhi: "Beware beware, my lord the king! - cried a voice upon h|s left; and turning round, Henry beheld the knight in 'h^ black armour pomting with his mace to the right where he Duke of Alen.on some fifty yards before a farge pa'ty of he Prench chivalry, was gahoping forward with his battle-axe in h.s hand, direct towards the king. Hen^^ urned to meet him; but that movement had nearly proved fatal to the English monarch; for as he wheeled'hrho'e e saw the black knight cover him with his .^hield recaVe upon It a tremendous blow from the gigantic adver ary" o had overthrown the Duke of Gloucester, and. swingin^ h.gh h,s mace, strike the other on the crest a troke Tat brought his head to his horse's neck. A second das d hmi to the ground; but Henry had time to remark no more ZtTT. T f''^' "P°" '^''"' ^"d he had now to hght hand to hand for life. Few men, however could l^and before the English monarch's arm; and in an instan; the duke was rolling in the dust. A do.en of the foo soldiers were upon him at once couldTe hea"rd''':r '"^' " ""' ^'^ ''"- ^"^ ^^ ^is voice " Mv InrH .^' \ '""■ """' '" '^' '^"'^^PPy P""-^'« throat. of a man galloping up m haste, "the rearguard of the -emy have rallied, and are already in your camp, piUag ' and slaying wherever they come." ^ r 98 HENRY V "Ha, then, we will fight them too," cried the monarch. "Keep the field, my lord duke; and prevent those fugitives from- collecting together;" and gathering a small force of cavalry, Henry himself rode back at speed towards the village of Maisoncelles. But when he reached the part of the camp were his baggage had been left, the king found that the report of the French rear-guard having rallied was false. Tents had been overthrown, it is true, houses had been burnt, waggons had been pillaged; and the work of plunder was still going on. But the only force in presence consisted of some six or seven hundred armed peasantry, headed by about six score men-at-arms, with three or four gentlemen apparendyof knightly rank. The cavaliers, who had dismounted, instantly sprang on their horses and fled when the English horse appeared; and Henry, fearing to endanger his victory, shouted loudly not to pursue. When Henry looked round, the main body of the French were flying in confusion, the rear-guard had already fled; and all that remained upon the field of Agincourt of the magnificent host of France, were the prisoners, the dying or the dead, except where here and there, scattered over the ground, were seen small parties of twenty or thirty, separated from the rest, and fighting with the courage of despair. "Let all men be taken to mercy," cried the king "who are willing to surrender. Quick, send messengers, uncle of Exeter, to command them to give quarter." G. P. R. JameSj Aj^incourt. HENRY VI HOW PRINCE EDWARD HEf.PED HIS CAUSE wL^Tin'th^'rovarT"'' appropriated to the Earl of sure of a vast gX "" "' ^'"'°*^^' "'''^'" ^^e embra- .m.ii , ^ casement, sat Anne of Warwick- th*. small wicket m the window was nn^n ^ »''arwicic,the letter Th 7k "^"- u^"' ^"'" "^^ ^^^^^^ "^^ on the Gothic Anne-from Anne to Isabel, till at length in one TOO HKNRY VI of those soft voices, so rarely lieard, whirh makes even a stranger love the speaker, the fair countess said— "Come hither my child, Isabel, give me thy hand, and whisper me what hath chafed thee." "My mother," re->lie:l the duchess, "it would become me ill to have a secret not known to thee, and yet, methinks, it would become me less to say aught to provoke thine anger!" "Anger, Isabel ! who ever knew anger for those they love ! " "Pardon me, my sweet mother," said Isabel, relaxing her haughty brow, and she approached and kissed her mother's cheek. The countess drew her gently to a seat by her side- "And now tell me all— unless, indeed, thy Clarence hath, in some lover's hasty moor!, vexed thy affection ; for of the household secrets, even a mother should not question the true wife." Isabel paused, and glanced significantly at Anne. "Nay— see!" said the countess, smiling, though sadly— "She, too, hath thoughts that she will not tell to me; but they seem not such as should alarm my fears as thine do. For the moment ere i spoke to thee, thy brow frowned, and her lip smiled. Slie hears us not-speak on." "Is it then true, my mother, that Margaret of Anjou is hastening hither; and can it be possible that King Louis can persuade my lord and father to meet, save in the field of battle, the arch-enemy of our house?" "Ask the earl thyself, Isabel; Lord Warwick hath no concealment from his children. Whatever he doth is ever wisest, best and knightliest— so, at least, may his children alway deem!" Isabel's colour changed, and her eye flashed. But ere she could answer, the arras was raised, and Lord Warwick entered. now PRINCE KDWARD HELPED HIS CAUSE .o, the' Anl N ^ ""'"^'^' '" ""''' ^'— -hich. at that day, the An^Io-Norman deemed it a sin against selfdignitv to negect-b .raying, by its disorder, that thorough "ha'nge s made but, m strong natures, by the tyranny of a great -;^re. or a great passion, the earl scarcely seemed to heed e:rn::;r:''° T^ ''''''' '" ''^^'^' '" ^^ ^^^^ h/ I u "'^ ""^ '°^^ "' '^^ '''"^' °f his Stern aspect -he threw h.mself abruptly on a seat, passed his hand over his face, and sighed heavily That sigh dispelled the fear of the wife, and made her ahve only to • .r privilege of the soother. She dTew near and placmg herself on the green rushes at his feeT took h.s hand and kissed it. but did not speak The earls eyes fell on the lovely face looking up to him hrough tears, his brow softened, he drew his h^anSgen " from hers, placed .t on her head, and said, in a low voice- God and our Lady bless thee, sweet wife!" preted hfr T\ '' '''''" '"'^ ""^ -""^ her waist pressed her to his bosom, and said. "My daughter for hee a^d thme, day and night have I striven and°£nS m vam. I cannot reward thy husband as I would-I can- not g,ve thee, as I had hoped, a throne! " ihJ fl '''Xf'' ^^''' '° ^'^'^^''" ^^'d the countess, "as that of Lord Warwick's daughter >" ear?f irc::"' ^°'' ^"' ''^"' ^"^ ^^^"-^ "- ^h^ WarM-ick was. happily, too absorbed in his own feelings not,ce those of his child. Moving away, he continued as he paced the room (his habit in emotion, which Isabel 7^L t r"^ ""'""'" '"'''■"^' ''^'''' ^" <^°'"'"0" with he; lather, had unconsciously caught from him)- "Till this morning. I hoped still that my name and ser- 1. loa HENRY VI vices, that Clarence's popular bearing, and his birth of Plantagentt, would suffice to summon the English people round our standard-that the false Edward would be driven, on our landing, to fly the realm; and that, without change to the dynasty of York, Clarence, as next male heir, would ascend the throne. True, I saw all the obstacles-all the difficulties,-! was warned of them before I left England; but still I hoped. Lord Oxford has arrived-he has just left me. We have gone over the chart of the way before us, weighed the worth of every name, for and against; and, alas I I cannot but allow vhat all attempt to place the younger brother on the throne 6( the elder would but lead to boot- less slaughter, and irretrievable defeat." "Wherefore think you so, my lord?" asked Isabel, in evident excitement. "Your own retainers are sixty thou- sand; an army larger than Edward and all his lords of yesterday can bring into the field." "My child," answered the earl, with that profound know- ledge of his countrymen which he had rather acquired ii.«; English heart than from any subtlety of intellect— "armies may gain a victory, but they do not achieve a throne— unless, at least, they enforce a slavery; and it is not for me and for Clarence to be the violent conquerors of our countrymen, but the regenerators of a free realm, corrupted by a false man's rule." "And what then?" exclaimed Isabel,-"what do you propose, my father? Can it be possible that you can unite yourself with the abhorred Lancastrians -with the savage Anjouite, who beheaded my grandsire, Salisbury? Well do I remember your own words— 'May God and St. George forget me, when I forget those grey and gory hairs!'" Here Isabel was interrupted by a faint cry from Anne, who, unobserved by the rest, and hitherto concealed from' her father's eye by the deep embrasure of the window, HOW PRINCE EDWARD HELPED HIS CAUSE ,03 had risen some moments before, and listened, with breath "It is not true-it is not true!" exHnim-^ a Ix)u» Msure, mt «,lemnly. that that foul act was do„, hv .h. butcher CHfford, against Matgarefs kno^dgc and when known, to her grief and anger" ' •■cL^J°"t' t"; "" ^'"^ ''"'■ "" '^"eveLoui.true!" Cea«-, Isabel-cease I ■■ said the countess. •■ I, it thus nn^w^^'d wlL\'''"r'ca:': '""T'T "" ""•■" . , ^ *^^" comprehend and oardon « Z "►5,''"' 'r'" " "^"""™ ""ich her reason mu« si^ra"n?r """' ■""• ""*'• "^ ■' « """out dS struggle and fierce agony that I can contemplate peace and l«g..e w,th mine ancient foe; but here two du tefspeak t' r„obr"H ""' '" •* ""'■"'•• ""' """""^ -d my hefnh as noble and a, man, demand redress-and the wedand £Sur-arr:— 1-^-~ even Isabel, but after a pause, she said, sullenly "And for 0^; X "tT "r r"* '"" •!--,, Id shatS your exile l-for th,s,-that he may place the etemal barrier o^fte^Lancastnan line between himself and the E^ !> 1 :1l I 104 HENRY VI "I would fain hope," answered the earl, calmly, "that Clarence will view our hard position more charitably than thou. If he gain not all that I could desire, should success crown our arms, he will, at least, gain much; for often and ever did thy husband. Isabel, urge me to stern measures aj,'ainst Edward, when I soothed him and restrained. Afor/ Dieu! how often did he complain of slight and insult from Elizabeth and her minions, of open affront from Edward, of parsimony to his wants as prince— of a life, in short, humbled and made bitter by all the indignity and the gall which scornful power can inflict on dependent pride. If he gain not the throne, he will gain, at least, the succession, in thy right, to the baronies of Beauchamp, the mighty duchy and the vast heritage of York, the vice-royalty of Ireland. Never prince of the blood had wealth and honours equal to those that shall await thy lord. For the rest, I drew him not into my quarrel— long before, would he have drawn me into his; nor doth it become thee, Isal>el, as child and as sister, to repent, if the husband of my daughter felt as brave men feel, without calculation of gain and profit, the insult offered to his lady's house. But, if here I overgauge his chivalry and love to me and mine, or discontent his ambition and his hopes, Mort Dieu ! we hold him not a captive. Edward will hail his overtures of peace; let him make terms with his brother, and return." "I will report to him what you say, my Lord," said Isabel, with cold brevity; and, bending her haughty head in formal reverence, she advanced to the door. Anne sprang forward and caught her hand. "Oh, Isabel!" she whispered; "in our father's sad and gloomy hour can you leave him thus?"— and the sweet lady burst into tears. "Anne," retorted Isabel, bitterly, "thy heart is Lancas- WHAT, PERADVENTURE, BRIEVES MY FATHER, HATH BUT JOY FOR THEE." m m Face /. /t>j HOW PRINCE EDWARD HELPED HIS CAUSE ,,5 bt";;"„':e:': ''""'™'""' ^-"-^^ "^ '=•*"- >■»* The earl though he had not overheard the whispered din: "^r, ■?='-- W^ "-^h'-, hadwTh lel'redt dot '"' "" "'"■^"='' "'* -<"'-■ - farter ■• ' """ '""' " '>^'' *™Sht for thy nued- And how earnest thou to learn that Marearet 4so™ a deed that, if done by her command wTld ."e dead"" """'" ""'' "" "'"^ " =-"'^«'«- '">P-ty .0 f„t°"' i"'°""'' ""'' """'''' •■" head still closerto her er stoc::"h an" """" "^"'^^^ "" '"""-'on ml iicr suence with an anxious eye wel^i"' ''' '''"' •" "'■■^'^ ^^^ ^-''« ^P-tments Tnked to theTrr''"'*'' *° ''"^^'^ ^"d household, flanked to the left by an abutting pile containing state chambers, never used by the austere and thrifty Lout ^.ve on great occasions of pomp or revel; and, as wehaTe before observed, looking on a garden.-which wLsgeneraHy sohtary and deserted. From this garden, while Lne yet t watldT '' K """ '" '''''''' ^"^ ^he counted trlin tf ! p;"" ""';T""'"'' ^"'^^"^5^ ^^'-^ ^he soft strain of a Provencal lute: while a low voice rich and Zt would h' °"" '^ ' '''' ^^^^^"^^ -^ - -^"'^^'e "t he irnr^r\'"'7f '^ ^° '^^" ^^"^P^^^ words breathed he lay of he heir of Lancaster. When the song ceased here was silence within the chamber, broken but by Annet low. yet passionate weeping. The carl gently /^ove to It io6 HENRY VI disengage her arms from his neck, but she, mistaking his intention, sank on her knees, and covering her face with her hands, exclaimed— "Pardon!— pardon!— pardon him, if not me!" "What have I to pardon? What has thou concealed from me? Can I think that thou hast met, in secret, one who-" "In secret! Never— never, father! This is the third time only that I have heard his voice since we have been at Amboise, save when— save when—" "Go on." * " Save when King Louis presented him to me in the revel, under the name of the Count de F— , and he asked me if I could forgive his mother for Lord Clifford's crime." "It is, then, as the rhyme proclaimed; and it is Edward of Lancaster who loves and woos the daughter of Lord Warwick!" Something in her father's voice made Anne remove her hands from her face, and look up to him with a thrill of timid joy. Upon his brow, indeed, frowned no anger— upon his lip smiled no scorn. At that moment all his haughty grief at the curse of circumstance, which drove him to his hereditary foe, had vanished. Though Montagu had obtained from Oxford some glimpse of the desire which the more sagacious and temperate Lancastrians already entertained for that alliance, and though Louis had already hinted its expediency to the earl, yet, till now, Warwick himself had naturally conceived that the prince shared the enmity of his mother, and that such an union, however politic, was impossible; but now, indeed, there burst upon him the full triumph of revenge and pride. Edward of York dared to woo Anne to dishonour— Edward of Lancaster dared not even woo her as his wife till his crown was won! To place upon the throne the very daughter HOW PRINCE EDWARD HELPED HIS CAUSE 107 the ungrateful monarch had insulted-to make her he would have humbled, not only the instrument of his fall but the successor of his purple-to unite in one glorious strife, the wrongs of the man and the pride of the father,- these were the thoughts that sparkled in the eye of the king maker, and flushed with a fierce rapture the dark cheek already hollowed by passion and care. He raised his daughter from the floor, and placed her in her mothers arms, but still spoke not. momers "and tk'nlff """" '''' T''' ^""''" ^^^^'"'^ ^he countess; thv couch t^'^'"'/' ^''"' '^^ "'^^^' ' ^^^'^ beside dreams; ^"'''' "^^ ''''''''''^ *^^ '""^"^ i" thy "Sweet mother, thou forgivest me; but my father-ah he speaks not!-One word! Father, father, not even ht' love could console me if I angered thee!" The earl, who had remained rooted to the spot, his eves shmmg thoughtfully under his dark brows, and LFs hand sl^h^y raised, as if piercing into the future, and mapping out Its airy realm, turned quickly- ^ true' wnlV''%^r ?'^ ^'""^'"'' '^ '^''' b°y be bold and true worthy of England and of thee-we will chan<^e the sad d,ty of that scrannel lute into such a storm of trumpets of aTrin^:!-'^ '^"'"^' of a conqueror, and the marri^ In truth, the young prince, in obedience to a secret message from the artful Louis, had repaired to the co r of Amboise under the name of the Count de F~ The whrPrinc^F^'' h"' '''°'"' "^'^ himself acquainted with Prince Edward's romantic attachment to the earl's daughter, through the agent employed by Edward to transmit his portrait to Anne at Rouen; and from him. probabT h^rd d ?' xr ' *'' "^^"^^^'^ "^•^'^ ^^^' nobleman had hazarded to Montagu; aud now that it became his poUcy io8 HENRY VI seriously and earnestly to espouse the cause of his kinswoman Margaret, he saw all the advantage to his cold statecraft which could be drawn from a boyish love. Louis had a well-founded fear of the warlike spirit and militarj' talents of Edward IV; and this fear had induced him hitherto to refrain from openly espousing the cause of the Lancastrians, though it did not prevent his abetting such seditions and intrigues as could confine the attention of the martial Plantagenet to the perils of his own realm. But now that the breach between Warwick and the king had taken place- now tjiat the earl could no longer curb the desire of the Yorkist nionarch to advance his hereditary claims to the fairest provinces of Fsance— nay, peradventure, to France itself,— while the defection of Lord Warwick gave to the Lancastrians the first fair hope of success in urging their own pretensions to the English throne— he bent all the powers of his intellect and his will towards the restoration of a natural ally, and the downfall of a dangerous foe. But he knew that Margaret and her Lancastrian favourers could not of themselves suffice to achieve a revolution— that they could only succeed under cover of the popularity and the power of Warwick, while he perceived all the art it would require to make Margaret forego her vindictive nature and long resentment, and to supple the pride of the great earl into recognising, as a sovereign, the woman who had branded him as a traitor. Long before Lord Oxford's arrival, Louis, with all that address which belonged to him, had gradually prepared the earl to familiarize himself to the only alternative before him, save that, indeed, of powerless sense of wrong, and obscure and lasting exile. The French king looked with 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. HOW PRINCE EDWARD HELPED HIS CAUSE .09 become deej^^^^S ^th h ' u"'""^ ''''^'' ^^^ mance. Perhaps AeveXf '''; T"'''^'"" ^""''^ ^^d ro- Lord Warwick tuX/r .^:;::r the- '°"^^ ^"^ descent from John of Gaunth ,H ! ! . ?"' *'°'"'"°" dictions in the human heartto end Tt"^' ^' '^' ^°°^^- of the gentle Anne HeXe/w^.^-^^^ Louis, repaired to the con rf ^°^ '''^ '"'"'"°°s °f (for his portrait^d^I ,at unr. T'^^^^ in its cor^, and^^dlt'CXagT^^^^^^^ ''"^T'''^- of Anjou. to address fh^ inH ^Sfeeably to the sweet customs «.e surti.'a„d st*™: ttp^ °;'-:: '° Vf « *e ^-ade of had departed from h,/f„ . ""' '^' °<:<:asion, he selected a" hoirTfde.ir".*'™'''"' """"o >>= had the lattice of the „ Jde„ , "f" t"'' """"""' ■"" ''™'^* palace was h s ed Tn t p A^dt t'", ""' '"' "^ *' intt"i?i^":^::ri7ari;"-^"''°'- French king had iweived , w /"""' ">« «""= "me the her departn're rZZ':Tj'ZZfXr''T' h. scheret ITJ-J'Z ZlZ thf ^'^7 ^" a reconciliation with the Ear, ofvt';!"' ""*""' "^ ine king perceived thenecpsf '"' '''^"'^'^ ''^ ^^°^^ purple' mantehne trimmed with ermme. was embroidered with his grand- $i^ 114 HENRY VI tl father's favourite device, " the silver swan "—he wore on his breast the badge of St. George, and the single ostrich plume, which made his coKnisance as Prince of Wales, waved over a fair and ample forehead, on which were, even then, traced the lines of musing thought and high design; his chestnut hair curled close to his noble head, his eye shone dark and brilliant beneath the deep-set brow, which gives to the human countenance such expression of energy and intellect— all about him, in aspect and mien, seemed to betoken a mind riper than his years, a masculine simplicity of taste and bearing, the earnest and grave temperament, mostly allied, in youth, to pure and elevated desires, to an honourable and chivalric soul. Below the dais stood some of the tried and gallant gen- tlemen who had braved exile, and tasted penury in their devotion to the House of Lancaster, and who had now flocked once more round their queen, in the hope of better days. There were the Dukes of Exeter and Somerset— their very garments soiled and threadbare— many a day had those great lords hungered fc ♦^'e beggar's crust! There stood Sir John Fortescue, the patriarch authority of our laws, who had composed his famous treatise for the benefit of the young prince, over-fond of exercise with lance and brand, and the recreation of knightly song. There were Jasper of Pembroke, and Sir Henry Rous, and the Earl of Devon, and the Knight of Lytton, whose house had followed, from sire to son, the fortunes of the Lancastrian Rose ; and, contrasting the sober garments of the exiles, shone the jewels and cloth of gold that decked the persons of the more prosperous foreigners, Ferri, Count of Vaudemonte, Mar- garet's brother, the Duke of Calabria, and the powerful form of Sir Pierre de Breze, who had accompanied Mar- garet in her last disastrous campaigns, with all the devotion of a chevalier for the lofty lady adored in secret. HOW PRINCE EDWARD HELPED HIS CAUSE 115 When the door opened, and gave to the eyes of those proud exiles the fonn of their puissant enemy, they with difficulty suppressed the murmur of their resentment, and their looks turned with sympathy and grief to the hueless face of their queen. The earl himself was troubled-his step was less firm, his crest less haughty, his eye less serenely steadfast. But beside him, in a dress more homely than that of the poorest exile there, and in garb and in aspect, as he lives for ever in the portraiture of Victor Hugo and our own yet greater Scott, moved Louis, popularly called "The Fell." "Madame and cousin." said the king, "we present to you the man for whose haute courage and dread fame we have such love and respect, that we value him as much as any king, and would do as much for him as for man living, and with my lord of Warwick, see also this noble Earl of Oxford, who, though he may have sided awhile with the enemies of your highness, comes now to pray your pardon, and to lay at your feet his sword." Lord Oxford (who had ever unwillingly acquiesced in the Yorkist dynasty)-more prompt than Warwick, here threw himself on his knees before Margaret, and his tears fell on her hand, as he murmured "Pardon." "Rise, Sir John de Vere," said the queen, glancing, with a flashing eye, from Oxford to Lord Warwick. "Your pardon is right easy to purchase, for well I know that you yielded but to the time -you did not turn the time against us-you and yours have suffered much for King Henry's cause. Rise, Sir Earl." "And," said a voice, so deep and so solemn, that it hushed the very breath of those who heard it,-" and has Margaret a pardon also for the man who did more than all others to dethrone King Henry, and can do more than all to restore his crown?" ti6 HENRY VI "Hal" cried Margaret, rising in her p.iMion, and casting from her the hand her son had placed upon her shoulder— "Hal Ownest thou thy wrongs, proud lord? ComeKt thou at last to kneel at Queen Margaret's feet? Look round and behold her court— some half-score brave and unhappy gen- tlemen, driven from their hearths and homes— their heritage the prey of knaves and varlets— their sovereign in a prison — their sovereign's wife, their sovereign's son, persecuted and hunted from the soil 1 And comest thou now to the forlorn majesty of sorrow to boast— 'Such deeds were mine'?" "Mother and lady," began the prince ~ "Madden me not, my son. Forgiveness is for the pro- sperous, not for adversity and woe." "Hear me," said the earl,— who, having once bowed his pride to the intei'view, had steeled himself against the passion which, in his heart, he somewhat despitied as a mere woman's burst of inconsiderate fury— "for I have this right to be heard— that not one of these knights, your lealest and noblest friends, can say of me, that I ever stooped to gloss mine acts, or palliate bold deeds with wily words. Dear to me as comrade in arms— sacred to me as a father's head, was Richard of York, mine uncle by mar- riage with Lord Salisbury's sister. I speak not now of his claims by descent (for those even King Henry could ntyt deny), but I maintain them, even in your grace's presence, to be such as vindicate, from disloyalty and treason, me and the many true and gallant men who upheld them through danger, by field and scaffold. Error, it might be - but the error of men who believed themselves the defenders of a just cause. Nor did I, Queen Margaret, lend myself wholly to my kinsman's quarrel, nor share one scheme thai went to the dethronement of King Henry, until— pardon, if I speak bluntly; it is my wont, and would be more so now, but for thy fair fiace and woman's form which awe )r': HOW PRINCK EDWARD HET.PKD HIS C^USK 1,7 me more than if confronting the frown of Crciir de Lion or the first Great Edward- pardon me, I say, if I speak bluntly, and aver, that I was not King Henry's foe until false counsellors had planned my destruction, in body and Koods. land and life. In the midst of peace, at Coventry my tather and myself scarcely escaped the knife of the murderer. In the streets of London, the very menials and hangmen employed in the service of your highness beset me unarmed, a little time after, and my name was attainted by an .llesal Parliament. And not till after these things dKl Richard Duke of York ride to the Hall of Westminster and lay his hand upon the throne; nor till after these things did I and my father Salisbury say to each other. 1 he time has come when neither peace nor honour can i* found for us under King Henrys reign.' Blame me if y-^i will. Queen Margaret; reject me. if you need not my sword; but that which I did in the gone days was such as no nobleman so outraged and despaired, would have for borne to do -remembering that England is not the herita-re of the kmi; Uone, but that safety and honour, and freedom and just,ce. are the rights of his Norman gentlemen and vick! Monstrous and unnatural seems it to the wife of captive Henry to see thee by the side of Henry's son!" Every eye turned in fear to the aspect of the earl, every ear listened for the answer which might be expected from his well-known heat and pride— an answer to destroy for ever the last hope of the Lancastrian line. But whether it was the very consciousness of his power to raise or to HOW PRINCE EDWARD HELPED HIS CAUSE 119 crush that fiery speaker, or those feelings natural to brave men. half of chivalry, half contempt, which kept down the natural anger by thoughts of the sex and sorrows of the Anjouite. or that the wonted irascibility of his temper had melted into one steady and profound passion of revenue agamst Edward of York, which absorbed all lesser and more trivial causes of resentment.-the earl's face, though pale as the dead, was unmoved and calm, and. with a crrave and melancholy smile, he answered— "More do I respect thee, O queen, for the hot words which show a truth rarely heard from royal lips, than hadst thou deigned to dissimulate the forgiveness and kindly charity which sharp remembrance permits thee not to feel- No. princely Margaret, not yet can there be frank amity between thee and me! Nor do I boast the affection you gallant gentlemen have displayed. Frankly, as thou hast spoken, do I say. that the wrongs I have suffered from another alone move me to allegiance to thvself ! Let others serve thee for love of Henry-reject not my service, given but for revenge on Edward-as much, henceforth, am I his foe as formerly his friend and maker! And if. hereafter on the throne, thou shouldst remember and resent the former wars, at least thou hast owed me no gratitude, and thou canst not grieve my heart, and seethe my brain as the man whom I once loved better than a son! Thus from thy presence I depart, chafing not at thy scornful wrath- mmdful, young prince, but of thy just and gentle heart, and sure, in the calm of my own soul (on which this much at least, of our destiny is reflected as on a glass), that when, high lady, thy colder sense returns to thee, thou wilt see that the league between us must be made! -that thine ire as woman, must fade before thy duties as a mother thy affection as a wife, and thy paramount and solemn ubli^a- t.ons to the people thou hast ruled as queen! In the dead I20 HENRY VI of night thou shalt hear the voice of Henry, in his prison, asking Margaret to set him free. The vision of thy son shall rise before thee in his bloom and promise, to demand, 'Why his mother deprives him of a crown?' and crowds of pale peasants, grinded beneath tyrannous exaction, and despairing fathers mourning for dishonoured children, shall ask the Christian queen, 'If God will sanction the unrea- soning wrath which rejects the only instrument that can redress her people?'" This said, the earl bowed his head and turned; but, at the first sign of his departure, there was a general move- ment among the noble bystanders: impressed by the dignity of his bearing, by the greatness of his power, and by the unquestionable truth that in rejecting him Margaret cast away the heritage of her son,— the exiles, with a common impulse, threw themselves at their queen's feet, and exclaim- ed almost in the same words,— " Grace 1 noble queen!— Grace for the great Lord War- wick!" " My sister," whispered John of Calabria, " thou art thy son's ruin if the earl depart!" "Pasque Dieii! Vex not my kinswoman— if she prefer a convent to a throne, cross not the holy choice!" said the wily Louis, with a mocking irony on his pinched lips. The prince alone spoke not, but stood proudly on the same spot, gazing on the earl, as he slowly moved to the door. " Oh, Edward— Edward, my son ! " exclaimed the unhappy Margaret, "if for thy sake— for thine— I must make the past a blank— speak thou for mel" "I have spoken," said the prince, gently, "and thou didst chide me, noble mother; yet I spoke, methinks, as Henry V, had done if of a mighty enemy he had had the power to make a noble friend." '■.. HOW PRINCE EDWARD HELPED HIS CAUSE 121 A short convulsive sob was heard from the throne chair; and as suddenly as it burst, it ceased. Queen Margaret rose-not a trace of that stormy emotion upon the grand and marble beauty of her face. Her voice, unnaturally calm, arrested the steps of the departing earl. "Lord Warwick, defend this boy-restore his rights- release his sainted father-and for years of anguish and of exile Margaret of Anjou forgives the champion of her son!" In an instant Prince Edward was again by the eari's side- a moment more, and the eari's proud knee bent in homage to the queen-joyful tears were in the eyes of her friends and kindred-a triumphant smile on the lips of Louis,- and Margaret's face, terrible in its stony and locked repo was raised above, as if asking the All-Merciful, pardon- lor the pardon which the human sinner had bestowed! The events that followed this tempestuous interview were such as the position of the parties necessarily compelled. The craft of Louis-the energy and love of Prince Edward— the representations of all her kindred and friends, con- quered, though not without repeated struggles, Margaret's repugnance to a nearer union between Warwick and her son. The eari did not deign to appear personally is this matter. He left it, as became him, to Louis and the Prince, and finally received from them the proposals, which ratified the league, and consummated the schemes of his revenge. Upon the Cross in St. Mary's church of Angers, Lr.rd Warwick swore without change to hold the party of King Henry. Before the same sacred symbol, King Louis and his brother, Duke of Guienne, robed in canvas, swore to sustain to their utmost the Eari of Warwick in behalf of King Henry; and Margaret recorded her oath "to treat the eari as true and faithful, and never for deeds past to maKe him any reproach." 122 HENRY VI Then were signed the articles of marriage between Prince Edward and the Lady Anne-the latter to remain with Margaret, but the marriage not to be consummated "till Lord Warwick had entered England and regained the realm, or most part, for King Henry"— a condition which pleased the earl, who designed to award his beloved daughter no less a dowry than a crown. An article far more important than all to the safety of the eari, and to the permanent success of the enterprise, was one that virtually took from the fierce and unpopular Margaret the reins of government, by constituting Prince Edward (whose qualities endeared him more and more to Warwick, and were such as promised to command the respect and love of the people) sole regent of all the realm, upon attaining his majority. For the Duke of Clarence were reserved all the lands' and dignities of the duchy of York, the right to the succession of the throne to him and his posterity- failing male heirs to the Priu. of Wales-with a private pledge of the vice-royalty of Ireland. And Charles the Bold, Duke of Burgundy, "prepared such a greate navie as lightly hath not been seene before gathered in manner of all nations, which armie laie at the moutii of the Seyne ready to fight with the Eari of War- wick, when he should set out of his harborowe." But the winds fought for the Avenger. In the night came "a terrible tempest," which scattered the duke's ships "one from another, so that two of them were not in com- panie together in one place;" and when the tempest had done its work, it passed away, and the gales were fair, and the heaven was clear. When, the next day, the earl "halsed up the sayles," and came in sight of Dartmouth. It was not with an army of foreign hirelings that Lord Wanvick set forth on his mighty enterprise. Scanty indeed were the troops he brought from France-for he had learned HOW PRINCE EDWARD HELPED HIS CAUSE 123 from England that "men, so much daily and hourly desired and wished so sore his arrival and return, that almost all men were m harness, looking for his landing." As his sh.ps neared the coast, and the banner of the Ragged Staff worked m gold, shone in the sun, the shores swarmed with armed crowds, not to resist, but to welcome. From cliff to t UZ '. ""'. ^'"''^ '"J°'^'"S bonfires; and from cliff his ten T r^ > ^"'^^ '^' ^^°"^' ^h^"' fir«^ °f -" mail T; ^"'^'^i'^' ^"^' «-^-« the burgonot, in complete mail, the popular hero leapt ashore "When the earle had taken land, he made a proclamation, in the name of Kmg Henry VI. upon high paynes, com^ manding and charging all men apt or able to bear armour to prepare themselves to fight against Edward, Duke of York' who had untruly usurped the croune and dignity of this realm." And where was Edward?-afar. following the forces of Fitzhugh and Robin of Redesdale, who, by artful retreat, drew him farther and farther northward, and left all the other quarters of the kingdom free, to send their thousands o the banners of Lancaster and Warwick. And even as the news of the earl's landing reached the king, it spread also through all the towns of the north-and all the towns in the north were in "a great rore, and made fires, and sang songs crying-' King Henry-' King Henrv! a War- wicke-a Warwickel' " But his warlike and presumptuous spirit forsook not the chief of that bloody and fatal race- tbc hne of the English Pelops-" bespattered with kindred re. A messenger from Burgundy was in his tent when li- news reached him. "Back to the duke! " cried Edward- tell him to re-collect his navy, guard the sea, scour the' streams, that the earl shall not escape, nor return to France- for the doings m England, let me alone! I have ability and 124 HENRY VI I i »«;i And therewith he raised his camp, abandoned the pursuit of Fitzhugh, summoned Montagu to join him (it being now safer to hold the marquis near him, and near the axe, if his loyalty became suspected), and marched on to meet the earl. Nor did the earl tarry from the encounter. His army, swelling as he passed— and as men read his proclamations to reform all grievances and right all wrongs— he pressed on to meet the king, while fast and fast upon Edward's rear came the troops of Fitzhugh and Hilyard ; no longer flying, but pursuing. The king was the more anxious to come up to Warwick, inasmuch as he relied greatly upon the treachery of Clarence, either secretly to betray or openly to desert the earl. And he knew that if he did the latter on the eve of a battle, it could not fail morally to weaken Warwick, and dishearten his army by fear that desertion should proVe, as it ever does, the most contagious disease that can afflict a camp. It is probable, however, that the enthusiasm which had surrounded the earl with volunteers so numerous, had far exceeded the anticipations of the inexperienced Clarence, and would have forbid him that opportunity of betraying the earl. However this be, the rival armies drew near and nearer. The king halted in his rapid march at a small village, and took up his quarters in a fortified house, to which there was no access but by a single bridge. Edward himself retired for a short time to his couch, for he had need of all his strength in the battle he foresaw. But scarce had he closed his eyes, when Alexander Carlile, the serjeant of the royal minstrels, followed by Hastings and Rivers, (their jealousy laid at rest for a time in the sense of their king's danger,) rushed into his room. "Arm, sire, arm!— Lord Montagu has thrown off the mask, and rides through thy troops, shouting 'Long live King Henry I'" HOW PRINCE 2DWARD HELPED HIS CAUSE ,25 From Warwick, hate was my due-but not from Momagul Rivers, help buckle on my mail. Hastings, post my body- guard at the bridge. We will sell our lives dear " Hastmgs vanished. Edward had scarcely hurried on his helm, cuirass, and greaves, when Gloucester entered, calm in the midst of peril. "Your enemies are marching to seize you, brother. Hark! behmd you rings the cry. 'A Fitzhugh-a Robin -death to he tyranti Hark! in front, 'A Montagu-a Warwick- Long live King Henry 1- I come to redeem my word-to share your exile or your death. Choose either while there IS yet time. Thy choice is mine I " And while he spoke, behind, before, came the various cnes near and nearer. The lion of March was in the toils Now, my two-handed sword 1 " said Edward. " Gloucester m this weapon learn my choice 1" ' But now all the principal barons and captains, still true to the king, whose crown was already lost, flocked in a body to the chamber. They fell on their knees, and with tears implored him to save himself for a happier day There is yet time to escape," said D'Eyncourt-"to pass the bridge- o gain the sea-port 1 Think not that a soldier s death will be left thee. Numbers will suffice to encumber thine arm-to seize thy person. Live not to be Warwick s prisoner-shown as a wild beast in its cage to the hooting crowd!" "If not on thyself," exclaimed Rivers, "have pity on these loyal gentlemen, and '"..r tiv^ sake of their lives pre- serve thine own. What is 1 -htl V/arwick fledl" " True-and returned I " addtc' Gloucester. " You are riaht my lords Come, sire, we must fly. Our rights fly not' with us, but shall fight for us in absence!" The calm will of this strange and terrible boy had its L 126 HENRY VI effect upon Edward. He suffered his brother to lead him from the chamber, grinding his teeth in impotent rage. He mounted his horse, while Rivers held the stirrup, and, with some six or seven knights and earls, rode to the bridge, already occupied by Hastings and a small but determined guard. "Come, Hastings," said the king, with a ghastly smile— "They tell us we must flyl" " True, sire, haste— haste ! I stay but to deceive the enemy by feigning to defend the pass, and to counsel, as I best may, the faithful soldiers we leave behind." "Brave Hastings ! " said Gloucester, pressing his hand, "you do well, and I envy you the glory of this post. Come, sire." "Ay,— ay," said the king, with a sudden and fierce cry, "we go— but at ledst slaughtering as we go. Seel yon rascal troop 1— ride we through the midst! Havock and revenge 1 " He set spurs to his steed, galloped over the bridge, and, before his companions could join him, dashed alone into the very centre of the advanced guard sent to invest the fortress; and while they were yet shouting— " Where is the tyrant?— where is Edward?" "Here!" answered a voice of thunder— "here, rebels and faj^ors, in your ranks!" This sudden and appalling reply, even more than the sweep of the gigantic sword, before which were riven sallet and mail, as the woodman's axe rives the faggot, created amongst the enemy that singular panic, which in those ages often scattered numbers before the arm and the name of one. Tbey re^'oiled in confusion and dismay. Many actually threw down their arms and fled. Through a path broad and clear, amidst the forest of pikes, Gloucester and the captains followed the flashing track of the kins, over the corpses, headless or limbless, that he felled as he rode. HOW PRINCE EDWARD HELPED HIS CAUSE ^^^ ta^'^tH"' r?* VT' '^^'''^' ""^*"«»' taking advan. tage of the sortie which confused and delayed the enemv summoned such of the loyal as were left in th-r ^' IT ' T'; ""' "^ "^^ "theLfof.heb„d« throf kTk"" ''"* ""■' '■'» "■""«'« had cutThelr ^v trtUuddenly the cry of "Robin of Redesdalel" wasSd A.kmght on horseback advanced from the rest Hasnng, lowered the point of his sword ;S.r, we yield this fortress to your hands upon one con ;;And ,f I pledge it not?" said the knight. ten hL'h "''"■^ ''''■"°'" ^^° ^"^'•d^ this bridge count ten dead men amongst your ranks." 'Do your worst-our bloods are udI We ^v«nf Hf. r Sf7' aSef'.o'^fi, ^*-^ ^--cVr t« ThTi •T.''^^^' to the attack-charge I pike and bill!" by .he sword of hJ^^^ '""' **' '"'^' '«'". fe""" 138 HENRY VI For several minutes the pass was so gallantly defended that the strife seemed uncertain, though fearfully unequal, when Lord Montagu himself, hearing what had befallen, galloped to the spot, threw down his tnmcheon, cried "Hold' and the slaughter ceased. To thi§ nobleman, Hastings ,)eated the terms he had proposed. "And," said Montagu, turning with anger to the Lan- castrians, who formed a detachment of Fitzhugh's force— "can Englishmen insist upon butchering Englishmen? Rather thank we Lord Hastings, that he would spare good King Henry so many subjects' lives ! The terms are granted, my lord ; and your own life also, and those of your friends around you, vainly brave in a wrong cause. Depart!" "Ah, Montagu," said Hastings, touched, and in a whisper, "what pity that so gallant a gentleman should leave a rebel's blot upon his scutcheon." " When chiefs and suzerains are lalse and perjured, Lord Hastings," answered Montagu, "to obey them is not loyalty, but serfdom; and revolt is not disloyalty, but a freeman's duty. One day thou mayst know that truth, but too late 1 " Hastings made no reply— waved his hand to his fellow- defenders of the bridge, and, followed by them, went slowly and deliberately on, till clear of the murmuring and sullen foe; then putting spurs to their steeds, these faithful warriors rode fast to rejoin their king. They at last reached the king, and gaining, with him and his party, the town of Lynn, happily found one English and two I Hitch vessels on the point of sailing; without other raiment man the mail they wore— without money, the men, a few hours before hailed as sovereign or as peers, fled from their native land as outcasts and paupers. Lord Lytton, Last of tht Barons. i EDWARD IV THE LAST HOPE OK THE RED ROSE Z-^ A '"""' ■" "■'" Pe""* conducted wi.h u7o„"" IZfV ""'".."" "" ^'^ "-n-erp^': e'^ yungfrau, the daughter of the landlord of the Flying Stae tomsel a fat old man, pinned to the oaken cha'r f„ tte Zt o°f c^':;; ^"^" '" " '"«"" ""'^ -rived with . wS shl "f'^;""" "W'^l'. in «he privileged race to «Mch she belonged, was little short of degradaiinn sk. o» bemg soiled by tripping across the yard to point ou an unoccupied stable, but, on an inquiry by the youn. Knghshman after his father. condescend'edTo rLol ect th"' ght and" ad %'?"''' '^' '^^^^^^ ^ ^'^ '^-^ 1- frau' wi'T"^ '''r °"u-'° '°"' ^'^'^ ^''••" «^id the little yung- a^u^HK .K •""'''• ^^"^' '*■ ^'^'""^^ °f 'he kind are to be ^i^^:"''' '-'' °^^"^-"-' -- '-^ ^-reeled She was as good as her word. In a few instants the elder man entered the stable, and folded Ins son in his arms My son-my dear son!" said t^.^ Fncrlishm," 7 i' stmViem K,,.i j '^'"giisnman, his usual stoicism broken down and melted by natural feeling and ■■arr I. JO KDWARI) IV h I* parental tenderness.- "Welcome to me at all times -wcl come, in a period of doubt and danj,'cr -und mos^t wel- come of all, in a moment which forms the very crisis of our fate. In a few hours I shall know what we may expect from the Duke of Hurgundy.— Hast thou the token?" He presented to his father a packet. "It hath run its own risk since you saw it," he observed to his father, "and so have I mine, I reroJxed hospitality at a castle last night, and behold a bo'lv (A lan/kncchts in the neighbourhood began in the mornini? to mutiny for their pay. The inhabitants fled from the castle to escape their violence, and, as we passed thrir lea^nier in the grey of the morning, a drunken Baari n hiuiter shot my poor horse, and I was forced, in the v.iy of ^cchun e, i \..\( up with his heavy Flemish animal, v.ith it stc j1 ouv lie and its clum-.y chaflron." "Our road is beset with perils," said liis f her. "! loo have had my share, having been in great iliin^'er" (he told not its precise nature) "at an inn where I rested last night But I left it in the morning, and proceeded hither in safety. I have at length, however, obtained a safe escort to con duct me to the Duke's camp near Dijon; and I trust to have an audience cf him this evening. Then, if our last h jpe should fail, we will seek the sea-port of Marseilles, hoist sail for Candia or for Rhodes, and spend our lives in defence of Christendom, since we may no longer fight for England." The son heard these ominous words without reply; but they did not the less sink upon his heart, deadly as the doom of the judge which secludes the criminal from society and all its joys, and condemns him to an eternal prison- house. The bells from the cathedral began to toll at this instant, and reminded the elder Englishman of the duty of hearing mans, which was said at all hours in some one or THK [,AST HOi'K OK THK RKI) ROSE other of the separate chapels which are contained in that magnificent pile. His son followed, on an intinuuion of his pleasure. In upproachinR the access to this superb cathedral, the travellers found it ohstnicted. as is usual in Catholic coun- tries, by the number of mendicants of both sexes, who crowded round the entrance to give the worshippers an opportunity of discharging the duty of almsgiving, so posi- tively enjoined as a chief observance of their Church. The Knglishmen e.xtricated themselves from their importunity by bestowing, as is usual on such occasions, a donative of small coin upon those who appeared most needy, or most deserving of their charity. One tall woman stood on the steps close to the door, and extended her hand to the elder Knghshman, who, struck with her appearance, exchanged for a piece of silver the copfwr coins which he had been dis- tributing amongst others. "A marvel!" she saia, in the English language, but in a tone fulc'lated only to be heard by him alone, although ■" ^^'^ caught the sound and sense of what she said,— n 'tiole!— An Englishman still possesses a silver :>nJ n afford to bestow it on the poor!" ^ -i • ;.^ sensible that his father started somewhat at ! :c it ..vords, which bore, even in his ear, some- I i. ].<■, import than the observation of an ordinary i >.-. ■>, I. 'Jter a glance at the female who thus ■ '! ■uui, his father passed onwards into the body of iicn, and was soon engaged in attending to the solemn ceremony of the mass, as it was performed by a priest at the altar of a chapel, divided from the main body ot the splendid edifice, and dedicated, as it appeared from the image over the altar, to Saint George; that military saint, whose real history is so obscure, though his popular legend rendered him an object of popular veneration during his s>r. "Ay. i tilt;!';;.. add':.- the cii -f- 132 EDWARD IV il t the feudal ages. The ceremony was begun and finished with all customary forms. The officiating priest, with his attendants, withdrew, and though some of the few worship- pers who had assisted at the solemnity remained telling their beads, and occupied with the performance of their private devotions, far the greater part left the chapel to visit oiher shrines, or to return to the prosecution of their secular affairs. But the son remarked that, whilst they dropped off one after r.nother, the tall woman who had received his father's alms continued to kneel near the altar; and he was yet more surprised to see that his father himself, who, he had many reasons to know, was desirous to spend in the church no more time than the duties of devotion absolutely claimed, remained also on his knees, with his eyes resting on the form of the veiled devotee (such she seemed from her dress), as if his own motions were to be guided by hers. By no idea which occurred to him was he able to form the least conjecture as to his father's motives-he only knew that he was engaged in a critical and dangerous negotiation, liable to influence or interruption from various quarters; and that political suspicion was so generally awake both in France, Italy, and Flanders, that the most im- portant agents were often obliged to assume the most im- penetrable disguises, in order to insinuate themselves without suspicion into the countries where their services were required. Louis XI. in particular, whose singular policy seemed in some degree to give a character to the age in which he lived, was well known to have disguised his prin- cipal emissaries and envoys in the fictitious garbs of men- dicant monks, minstrels, gipsies, and other privileged wanderers of the meanest description. He concluded, therefore, that it was not improbable that this female might, like themselves, be something more than THE LAST HOPE OF THE RED ROSE 133 her dress imported; and he resolved to observe his fathers deportment towards her, and regulate his own actions ac cordmgly. A bell at last announced that mass, upon a more splendid scale, was about to be celebrated before the high altar of the cathedral itself, und its sound withdrew from the sequestered chapel of Saint George the few who had remained at the shrine of the military saint, excepting the father and son, and the female penitent who kneeled opposite to them. When the last of the worshippers had retired, the female arose and advanced towards the elder man who, folding his arms on his bosom, and stooping his head m an attitude of obeisance which his son had never before seen him assume, appeared rather to wait what she had to say, than to propose addressing her. 1 here was a pause. Four lamps, lighted before the shrine of the saint, cast a dim radiance on his armour and steed represented as he was in the act of transfixing with his lance the prostrate dragon, whose outstretched wings and writhing neck were in part touched by their beams. Th» rest of the chapel was dimly illuminated by the autumnal sun, which could scarce find its way through the stained panes of the small lanceolated window, which was its only aperture to the open air. The light fell doubtful and gloomy tmged with the various hues through which it passed, upon the stately, yet somewhat broken and dejected form of the female, and on those of the melancholy and anxious father and his son, who, with all the eager interest of youth sus' pected and anticipated extraordinary- consequences from so singular an interview. At length the female approached to the same side of the shrine with the two Englishmen, as if to be more distinctly heard, without being obliged to raise the slow, solemn voice m which she had spoken. "Do you here worship," she said, "the Saint George of 134 EDWARD IV Burgundy, or the Saint (Jeorge of merry England, the flower of chivalry ? " "I serve," said the Englishman, folding his hands humbly on his bosom, " the saint to whom this chapel is dedicated, and the Deity with whom I hope for his holy intercession, whether here or in my native country." "Ay— you," said the female, "even you can forget— you, even you, who have been numbered among the mirror of knighthood— can forget that you have worshipped in the royal fane of Windsor— that you have there bent a gartered knee, where kings and princes kneeled around you— you can forget this, and make your orisons at a foreign shrine, with a heart undisturbed with the thoughts of what you have been,— praying, like some poor peasant, for bread and life during the day that passes over you." "Lady," replied he,^ "in my proudest hours, I was, before the Being to whom I preferred my prayers, but as a worm in the dust— In his eyes I am now neither less nor more, degraded as I may be in the opinion of my fellow-reptiles." "How canst thou think thus?" said the devotee; "and yet it is well with thee that thou canst. But what have thy losses been, compared to mine!" She put her hand to her brow, and seemed for a moment overpowered by agonizing recollections. The son pressed to his father's side, and inquired, in a tone of interest which could not be repressed, " Father, who is this lady? — Is she my mother?" "No, my son," answered the fathc;—" peace for the sake of all you hold dear or holy ! " The singular female, however, heard both thd question and answer, though expressed in a whisper. "Yes," she said, "young man— I am— I should say I was —your mother; the mother, the protectress, of all that was noble in England— I am Margaret of Anjou." 'I'HK LAST HOPE OF JHE RED ROSE '6o The young man sank on liis knees before the dauntless widow of Henry the Sixth, who so long, and in such despe- rate circumstances, upheld by unyielding courage and deep policy the sinking cause of her feeble husband; and who, if she occasionally abused victory by cruelty and revenge! had made some atonement by the indomitable resolution with which she had supported the fiercest storms of advers- ity. With an enthusiasm belonging to his age and educa- tion, he, in the same instant, flung his bonnet on the pave- ment, and knelt at the feet (;f his ill-fated sovereign. Margaret threw back the veil which concealed those noble and majestic features, which even yet— though rivers of tears had furrowed her cheeks-though care, disappoint- ment, domestic grief, and humbled pride, had quenched the fire of her eye, and wasted the smooth dignity of her forehead-even yet showed the remains ofthat beauty which once was held unequalled in Europe. The apathy with which a succession of misfortunes and disappointed hopes had chilled the feelings of the unfortunate princess, was for a moment melted by the sight of the fair youth's en- thusiasm. She abandoned one hand to him, which he covered with tears and kisses, and with the other stroked with maternal tenderness his curled locks, as she endeavoured to raise him from the posture he had assumed. His father, in the meanwhile, shut the door of the chapel, and placed his back against it, withdrawing himself thus from the group, as if for the purpose of preventing any stranger from enter- ing during a scene so extraordinary. "And thou, then," said Margaret, in a voice where female tenderness combated strangely with her natural pride of rank, and with tlie calm, stoical indifference induced by the intensity of her personal misfortunes; "thou, fair youth, art the last scion of the noble stem, so many fair boughs of which have fallen in our hapless cause. Alas, alas ! what 136 EDWARD IV can I do for thee? Margaret has not even a blessing to bestow ! So wayward is her fate, that her benedictions are curses, and she has but to look on you, and wish you well, to insure your speedy and utter ruin. I— I have been the fatal poison-tree, whose influence has blighted and destroyed all the fair plants that arose beside and around me, and brought death upon every one, yet am myself unable to find it!" "Noble and royal mistress," said the elder Englishman, " let not your princely courage, which has borne such extrem- ities, be dismayed, now that they are passed over, and that a chance at least of happier times is approaching to you and to England." "To England, to me, noble Oxford!" said the forlorn and widowed queen.— "If ^to-morrow's sun could place me once more on the throne of England, could it give back to me what I have lost? I speak not of wealth or power— they are as nothing in the balance— I speak not of the hosts of noble friends who have fallen in defence of me and mine — Somersets, Percys, Staffords, Cliffords— they have found their place in fame, in the annals of their country— I speak not of my husband, he has exchanged the state of a suffer- ing saint upon earth, for that of a glorified saint in heaven —But O, Oxford! my son— my Edward!— Is it possible for me to look on this youth, and not remember that thy Countess and I on the same night gave birth to two fair boys? How oft we endeavoured to prophesy their future fortunes, and to persuade ourselves that the same constel- lation which shone on their birth, would influence their succeeding life, and hold a friendly and equal bias till they reached some destined goal of happiness and honour! Thy Arthur 'ives; but, alas I mv Edward, born under the same auspices, fills a bloody g.ave!" She wrapped her head in her mantle, as if to stifle the THE LAST HOPE OF THE RED ROSE 137 complaint, and groans which maternal affection poured forth at t.ese cruel recollections. The exiled Earl of Oxford as we may now term him, distinguished in those changeful times by the steadiness with which he had always maintained his loyalty to the line of Lancaster, saw the imprudence of mdulgmg his sovereign in her weakness. "Royal mistress," he said, " life's journey is that of a brief winters day, and its course will run on, whether we avail ourselves of its progress or no. My sovereign is, I trust, too much mistress of herself to suffer lamentation for what IS past to deprive her of the power of using the present time. I am here in obedience to your command; I am to see Burgundy forthwith, and if I find him pliant to the purpose to which we would turn him, events may follow which will change into gladness our present mourning But we must use our opportunity with speed as well as zeal Let me know, then, madam, for what reason your highness hath come hither, dir-uised and in danger? Surely 'it was not merely to weep over this young man that the hi-^h- mmded Queen Margaret left her father's court, disguised herself m mean attire, and came from a place of safety to one of doubt at least, if not of danger ? " "You mock me', Oxford," said the unfortunate queen "or you deceive yourself, if you think you still serve that Mar- garet whose word was never spoken without a reason, and whose slightest action was influenced by a motive. Alas 1 I am no longer the same firm and rational bein^ The feverish character of grief, while it makes one place'hateful to me, drives me to another in verj- impotence and impa- tience of spirit. My father's residence, thou say'st. is safe- but is It tolerable for such a soul as mine? Can one who' has been deprived of the noblest and richest kingdom of Europe-one who has lost hosts of noble friends-one who IS a widowed consort, a childless mother-one upon whose 138 EDWARD IV head Heaven hath poured forth its last vial of unmitigated wrath— can she stoop to be the companion of a weak old man, who, in sonnets and in music, in mummery and folly, in harping and rhyming, finds a comfort for all that poverty has that is distressing; and, what is still worse, even a solace in all that is ridiculous and contemptible?" "Nay, with your leave, madam," said her counsellor, " blame not the good King Ren6, because, persecuted by fortune, he has been able to find out for himself humbler sources of solace which your prouder spirit is disposed to disdain. A contention among his minstrels has for him the anima- tion of a knighdy combat; and a crown of flowers, twined by his troubadours, and graced by their sonnets, he accounts a valuable compensation for the diadems of Jerusalem, of Naples, and of both .Sicilies, of which he only possesses the empty titles." ^^ "Speak not to me of the pitiable old man," said Margaret; "sunk below even the hatred of his worst enemies, and never thought worthy of anything more than contempt. I tell thee, noble Oxford, I have been driven nearly mad with my forced residence at Aix, in the paltry circle which he calls his court. My ears, tuned as they now are only to sounds of affliction, are not so weary of the eternal tinkling of harps, and squeaking of rebecks, and snapping of cas- tanets-my eyes are not so tired of the beggarly aff-ectation of court ceremonial, which is only respectable when it implies wealth and expresses power-as my very soul is sick of the paltry ambition which can find pleasure in spangles, tassels, and trumpery, when the reality of all that is great and noble hath passed away. No, Oxford, if I am doomed to lose the last cast which fickle fortune seems to off'er me, I will retreat into the meanest convent in the Pyrenean hills, and at least escape the insult of the idiot gaiety of my father. -Let him pass from ,our memory as from the THE LAST HOPE OF THE RED ROSE ,39 page of history, in which his name will nev^r k« I have much of more importance botTo he" ,^^^^^^^^^^^^ And now my Oxford, what news from ItLy" Win kT "With his counsels willinelv madam- h„» »,« ruiiah tK«^ T 1 ^ "laaam, but how you w 11 Providence." resignation to the will of "The wily Italian! Will not th^n r-oi^ nnrf «f u" u j ^' '"^"' ^'^leasso advancc anv part of his hoards, or assist a friend to whnm u^u u^ his time full often sworn faith?" ^^ ^"'^ '" "Not even the diamonds which I offpr*.H f^ ^ his hands;- answered the earl. '• could m^ke him unToTh" treasury to supply us with ducats for our enterprise v' .: T.tL'''''''' ^'""^^"'^ ''^^'' thintlSsly"^." an exertion in our favour, such was his reeard for fh.l great prince, and his deep sense of your Hi 'hSsmi.fn tunes, that he would consider what the state oJh^sTxCt hough much exhausted, and the condition of Ws suS though impoverished by taxes and talliages. would ,^rm; him to advance in your behalf" ^ ^ "The double-faced hypocrite!" said Margaret "If th. assistance of the princely Burgundy lends uTa chance of his ndifference to our advers.tv!-But what of BuJgundy! I have ventured hither to tell you what I have learned an ^ o hear report of your proceedings -a trustr.^rpo;ides for the secrecy of our interview. Mv impat ence to see you brought me hither in this mean disguise. I have a smTn retmue at a convent a mile beyond the town-I havThad you arrival watched by the faithful Lambert-and noTl coJe 1 know your hopes or your fears, and to tell yo^m own" I40 EDWARD IV "Royal lady," said the earl, "I have not seen the Duke. You know his temper to be wilful, sudden, haughty, and unpersuadable. If he can adopt the calm and sustained policy which the times require, I little doubt his obtaining full amends of Louis, his sworn enemy, and even of Ed- ward, his ambitious brother-in-law. But if he continues to yield to extravagant fits of passion, with or withov.t provo- cation, he may hurry into a quarrel with the poor but hardy Helvetians, and is likely to engage in a perilous contest, in which he cannot be expected to gain anything, while he undergoes a chance of the most serious losses." " Surely," replied the queen, " he will not trust the usurper Edward, even in the very moment when he is giving the greatest proof of treachery to his alliance?" "In what respect, mpdam?" replied Oxford. "The news you allude to has not reached me." "How, my lord? Am I then the first to tell you that Edward of York has crossed the sea with such an army as scarce even the renowned Henry V., my father-in-law, ever transported from France to Italy?" "So much I have indeed heard was expected," said Ox- ford; "and I anticipated the effect as fatal to our cause." "Edward is arrived," said Margaret, "and the traitor and usurper hath sent defiance to Louis of France, and de- manded of him the crown of that kingdom as his own right— that crown which was placed on the head of my unhappy husband when he was yet a child in the cradle." "It is then decided— the English are in France?" an- swered Oxford, in a tone expressive of the deepest anxiety.— "And whom brings Edward with him on this expedition?" "All— all the bitterest enemies of our house and cause— The false, the traitorous, the dishonoured George, whom he calls Duke of Clarence— the blood-drinker, Richard— the licentious Hastings— Howard— Stanley— in a word, the THE LAST HOPE OF THE RED ROSE ,4, leaders of all those traitors whom I would not name, unless by domg so my curses could sweep them from the face of the earth." "And-I tremble to ask," said the earl-" does Burgundy prepare to join them as a brother of the war, and make common cause with this Yorkish host against King Louis of I" ranee? ;'By my advices," replied the queen, "and they are both private and sure, besides that they are confirmed by the bruit of common fame-No. ray good Oxford, no!"; i-or that may the saints be praised!" answered Oxford. Edward of York-I will not malign even an enemy-is a bold and fearless leader, but he is neither Edward the ihird, nor the heroic Black Prince-nor is he that fifth rtenry of Lancaster, under whom I won my spurs, and to whose lineage the thoughts of his glorious memory would have made me faithful, had my plighted vows of allegiance ever permitted me to entertain a thought of varying, or of defection Let Edward engage in war with Louis without the aid of Burgundy, on which he has reckoned. Louis is indeed no hero, but he is a cautious and skilful general more to be dreaded, perhaps, in these politic days, than It Charlemagne could again raise the Oriflamme, sur- rounded by Roland and all his paladins. Louis will not hazard such fields as those of Crassy. of Poictiers. or of Agincourt. With a thousand lances from Hainault, and twenty thousand rrc .-ns from Burgundy, Edward shall risk the loss of !«.ng.and. ^^hile he is engaged in a protracted struggle ic- tliL recovery of Normandy and Guienne. But what are the movernents of }>urgundy?" "He has r-naced Gern .ny. ' said Margaret, "and his ^oops are now ...pL-yec' u -'erruniig Lorraine, of which he has seized the principui t..>,vns ar^a castles" "Where is Ferraiid de Vaudemoii -a youth, it is said. M 14-' KDW AKl) IV of courajic" and enterprise, and claiming Lorraine in right of his mother, \ olantie of Anjou, the sistc r of your Grace?" "Fled," replied the queen, "into (lermany or Helvetia." " Let Burgundy beware of him," said the experienced earl ; "for should the disinherited youth obtain confederates in Germany, and allies among the hardy Swiss, Charles of burgundy may find him a far more formidable enemy than he expects. We are strong for the present, only in the Duke's strength, and if it is wasted in idle and desultory efforts, our hopes, alas 1 vanish with his power, even if he shoulQ be found to have the decided will to assist us. My friends in England are resolute not to stir without men and money from Burgundy." " It is a fear," said .Margaret, " but not our worst fear. I dread more the policy of Louis, who, unless my espials have grossly deceived me, has even already proposed a secret peace to Edward, offering with large sums of money to purchase England to the Yorkists, and a truce of seven years." " It cannot be," said Oxford. " No Englishman command- ing such an army as Edward must now lead, dares for very shame to retire from France without a manly attempt to recover his lost provinces." "Such would have been the thoughts of a rightful prince," said Margaret, " who left behind him an obedient and faith- ful kingdom. Such may not be the thoughts of this Ed- ward, misnamed Plantagenet, base perhaps in mind as in blood, since they say his real father was one Blackburn, an archer of Middleham— usurper, at least, if not bastard- such will not be his thoughts. Every breeze that blows from England will bring with it apprehensions of defection amongst those over whom he has usurped authority! He will not sleep in peace till he returns to England with those cutthroats whom he relies upon for the defence of his THK r.AST HOFK OF THK RKI) ROSK ,4^ Jtolen crown. He will engage in no war with I.o..is for by .urns o gold-and I fear much we .hall soon hear bLt tha^h T' T"""' ''°'" '^-"-' -th the id e boast that they have displayed their banfters once more thdr oZ: ■' " '"°' •" '''' '''°^'-- -h-*^ -re for:;e7; "It the more becomes us to be speedy in moving R..r 1 post to Dijon. Such an army as Edwards cannoVbe transported over the narrow seas in several we^^ Thi probabihty .s. that they must winter in France. eTen if tLv should have truce with King Louis. With Hhould Hainault lances from the eastern part of Flande s I can be soon m the north, where we have many friends besides the assurance of help from Scotland. The fahhVulTes will nse at a signal-a Clifford can be found, though the he Zfl '''""^'' "' '^"^ '■^"y'"« >^ord of Tudor- Ki^g'^Hen'!; r ^^'"' " '''' ^^^ '"— ^ -' ^o, save "Alas! •• said the queen-" But no husband-nofnVnH.f mme-the son but of my mother-in-law by a Welsh cSa.n -cold, they say. and crafty-But be it so- let me only see Uncaster tnumph, and obtain revenge upon York and I will die contented!" »wk, ana i "It is then your pleasure that I should make the proffers ^pressed by your Graces former mandates, to induce Burgundy to stir himself in our cause? If h; lea^s I proposal of a truce betwixt France and England TwIH stmg sharper than aught I can say." "Promise all, however." said the queen. "I know his mmost soul-it is set upon extending the dominions of hi's MICROCOPY RESOIUTION TEST CHART (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) |^|Z8 61 2.0 1.8 A APPLIED IN/MGE Inc ^^ 1653 East Main Street S^S Rochester. Ne» rork U609 USA ^S (716) 482 - 0300 - Phone ^S (^'6) 288 - 5989 - Fox 144 EDWARD IV House in every direction. For this he has seized Gueldres — for this he now overruns and occupies Lorraine— for this he covets such poor remnants of Provence as my father still calls his own. With such augmented territories, he proposes to exchange his ducal diadem for an arched crown of independent sovereignty. Tell the Duke, Margaret can assist his views— tell him that my father Rend shall disown the opposition made to the Duke's seizure of Lorraine — He shall do more— he shall declare Charles his heir in Provence, with my ample consent— tell him, the old man shall cede his dominions to him upon the instant that his Hainaulters embark for England, some small pension de- ducted to maintain a concert of fiddlers and a troop of morrice-dancers. These 'are Rene's only earthly wants. Mine are still fewer— revenge upon York, and a speedy grave! —For the paltry gold which we may need, thou hast jewels to pledge— For the other conditions, security if required." "For these, madam, I can pledge my knightly word, in addition to your royal faith; and if more is required, my son shall be a hostage with Burgundy." " O no— no ! " exclaimed the dethroned queen, touched by perhaps the only tender feeling which repeated and extra- ordinary misfortunes had not chilled into insensibility,— " Hazard not the life of the noble youth— he that is the last of the loyal and faithful House of Vere— he that should have been the brother-in-arms of my beloved Edward— he that had so nearly been his companion in a bloody and untimely grave! Do not involve this poor child in these fatal intrigues, which have been so baneful to his family. Let him go with me. Him at least I will shelter from danger whilst I live, and provide for when I am no more." "Forgive me, madam," said Oxford, with the firmness which distinguished him. "My son, as you deign to recol- lect, is a De Vere, destined, perhaps, to be the last of his ■LET ME TIE THIS RELIC ABOUT THY NECK, GOOD YOUTH." Fact p. 145 THE LAST HOPE OF THE RED ROSE 145 name. Fall he may, but it must not be without honour. To whatever dangers his duty and allegiance call him, be it from sword or lance, axe or gibbet, to these he must expose himself frankly, when his doing so can mark his allegiance. His ancestors have shown him how to brave them all." "True, true," exclaimed the unfortunate queen, raising her arms wildly.—" All must perish— all that have honoured Lan- caster—all that have loved Margaret, or whom she has loved ! The destruction must be universal -the young must fall with the old— not a lamb of the scattered flock shall escape! " "For God's sake, gracious madam," said Oxford, " compose yourself!— I hear them knock on the chapel door." "It is the signal of parting," said the exiled queen, col- lecting herself. "Do not fear, noble Oxford, I am not often thus; but how seldom do I see those friends, whose faces and voices can disturb the composure of my despair! Let me tie this relic about thy neck, good youth, and fear not its evil influence, though you receive it from an ill-omened hand. It was my husband's, blessed by many a prayer, and sanctified by many a holy tear; even my unhappy hands cannot pollute it. I should have bound it on my Edward's bosom on the dreadful morning of Tewkesbury fight; but he armed early— went to the field without seeing me, and all my purpose was vain." She passed a golden chain round Arthur's neck as she spoke, which contained a small gold crucifix of rich but barbarous manufactur It had belonged, said tradition, to Edward the Confesses . x he knock at the door of the chapel was repeated. "We must not tarry," said Margaret; "let us part here— you for Dijon— I to Aix, my abode of unrest in Provence. Farewell— we may meet in a better hour— yet how can I hope it? Thus I said on the morning before the fight of I' ill 14^ EDWARD IV Saint Albans— thus on the dark dav">ing of Towton— thus on the yet more bloody field of . vkesbury— and what was the event? Yet hope is a plant which cannot be rooted out of a noble breast, till the last heart-string crack as it is pulled away." So saying, she passed through the chapel door, and mingled in the miscellaneous assemblage of personages who worshipped or indulged their curiosity, or consumed their idle hours amongst the aisles of the cathedral. Oxford and his son, both deeply impressed with the sin- ^alar interview which had just taken place, returned to their inn, where they found a pursuivant, with the Duke of Burgundy's badge and livery, who informed them that if they were the two Englishmen who were going to the court of the Duke, he had orders to afford them the coun- tenance of his escort and inviolable character. Under his protection they set out from Strassburg; but such was the uncertainty of the Duke of Burgundy's motions, and such the numerous obstacles which occurred to interrupt their journey, in a country disturbed by the constant passage of troops and preparation for war, that it was evening on the second day ere they reached the plain near Dijon, on which the whole, or great pai t of his power, lay encamped. Sir Walter Scott, Anne of Gientein HENRY VIII THE DEATH OK ANNE UOI.EYN King Henry's attentions to the Lady Jane Seymour were so marked, that the whole court was made aware of his passion. But it was not anticipated that any serious and extraordinary consequences would result from the intoxica- tion-far less that the queen herself would be removed to make way for her successful rival. It was afterwards however, remembered that at this time Henry held frequent^ long, and grave conferences with the Dukes of Suffolk and Norfolk, and appeared to be engrossed in the meditation of some project. One morning, when Anne was alone within her chamber, her father, who was now Eari of Wiltshire, obtained admit- tance to her. "You have a troubled look, my dear lord," she said, as she motioned him to a seat. "And well I may have," he replied. "Oh, Anne! words cannot express my anxiety at the present state of things." "It will speedily pass by, my lord," she replied; "the king will soon be tired of his new idol." "Not before he has overthrown the old one, I fear," rejoined the eari. "Jane Seymour's charms have' usurped entire sovereignty over hin. And with all her air of in- genuousness and simplicity, the minion is artful and dan- gerous. She has a high mark, I am persuaded— no less than the throne." "But Henry cannot wed her— he cannot divorce me" t I r said Anne. '47 "X 148 HENRY VIII "So thought Catherine of Arragon," replied her father; " and yet she was divorced. Anne, I am convinced that a plot is hatching against you." " You do not fear for my life, father?" she cried, trembling. " I trust there are no grounds for charges against you by which it might be brought in jeopardy," replied the earl gravely. "None, father— none ! " she exclaimed. " I am glad to hear it," rejoined the earl; " for I have heard that the king said to one who suggested another divorce to him, 'No, if the queen comes within the scope of the divorce, she also comes within the pale of the scaffold.' " "A pledge was extorted from him to that effect," said Anne, in a hollow voice. "That an attempt will be made against you, I firmly believe," said the earl ; " but if you are wholly innocent you have nothing to fear." "Oh, father! I know not that," cried Anne. "Innocence avails little with the stony-hearted Henry." "It will prove your best safeguard," said the earl. "And now farewell, daughter! Heaven guard you! Keep the strictest watch upon yourself." So saying, he quitted the apartment, and as soon as she was left alone, the unhappy Anne burst into an agony of tears. From this state of affliction she was roused by hearing her own name pronounced in low accents, and looking up, she beheld Sir Henry Norris. "Oh, Norris!" she said, in atone of reproach, "you have come hither to destroy me." "No one knows of my coming," he said; "at least, no one who will betray me. I was brought hither by one who will take care we are not observed." "I fear the rash act will bring destruction upon us both," she cried. THE DEATH OF ANNE BOLEYN 14Q "It is too late to retract now," he replied; "besides, there was no help for it. I sacrificed myself to preserve yoii." "But will the sacrifice preserve me?" she cried. "I fear not. I have just been told that the kin?,' is preparing a ter- nble scheme against me-that he meditates removing me, to make way for Jane Seymour." "You have heard the truth, madam," replied Norris; "he will try to bring you to the block." "And with him, to try is to achieve," said Anne. "Oh, Norris I it is a fearful thing to contemplate such a death!" "But why contemplate it, madam?" said Norris; "why, if you are satisfied that the king has such designs against you-why, if you feel that he will succeed, tarry for the fatal blow? Fly with me-fly with one who loves you. and will devote his whole life to you-who regards you, not as the queen, but as Anne Boleyn. Relinquish this false and hollow grandeur, and fly with me to happiness and peace." "And relinquish my throne to Jane Sevmour? ' rejoined Anne. "Never! I feel that all you assert is true-that my present position is hazardous-that Jane Sevmour is in the a.scendant, while I am on the decline, if not wholly sunk- that you love me entirely, and would devote your life to me-still, with all these motives for dread, I cannot prevail upo; myself voluntarily to give up my title, and to abandon my post to a rival." "You do not love me, then, as I love you, Anne," said Norris. "If I were a king, I would abandon my throne for you." "You think so now, Norris, because you are not king," she ieplied. "But I am queen, and will remain so, till I am forced to abandon my dignity." "I understand, madam," rejoined Norris gloomily. "But, oh! bethink you to what risks you expose yourself. You ISO HENRY VIII kno'v the king's terrible determination— his vindictiveness, his ferocity." "Full well," she replied— " full well; but I will rather die a queen than live disgraced ar mined. In wedding Henry the Eighth, I laid my account to certain risks, and those I must brave." Before Norris could urge anything further, the door was suddenly opened, and a tall dark figure entered the cham- ber, and said astily: "The king is at hand." " One word more, and it is my last," said Norris to Anne. "Will you fly with me to-night?— all shall be leady." "I cannot," replied Anne. Scarcely had Norris disappeared behind the tapestry when Henry entered the chamber. He was in a gayer mood than had been usual with him of late. "I am come to tell you, madam," he said, "that I am about to hold jousts in the castle on the first day of May, at which your good brother and mine, the Lord Rochford, will be the challenger, while I myself shall be the defend- ant. You will adjudge the pn/e." " Why not make Jane Seymour queen of the jousts ? " said Anne, unable to resist the remark. "She will be present at them," said Henry; "but I have my own reasons," he added significantly, "tor not wishing her to appear as queen on this occasion." "Whatever may be your reasons, th._ wish is sufficient for me," said Anne. " Nay, will you not tarry a moment with me ? It is long since we h.^ve had any converse in private together." "I am busy at this moment," replied Henrv bluffly; "but what is it you would say to me ? '' "I would only reproach you foi- some lack of tenderness, and much neglect," said Anne " Oh, Henry ! do you reniem- THK DKATH OF ANNK BOI.KYN >S' w yvu swore by your life--yniir hat you held sacred or dear— that crown— your faith— you would love mc ever?" "And so I would, if I cou d," repliet the king; "hut unfortunately the heart is not entirely under control. Have you your&elf, for instance, experienced no change in your affection ? " "No," replied Anne. "I have certainly suffered severely from your too evident regard for Jane Seymour; hut, though deeply mortified and distressed, I have never for a moment been shaken in ny love for your majesty." "A loyal and loving reply," said Henry. "I thought I had perceived some slight dinriiution in your regard." "You did yourself grievous injustice by the supposifon, ' replied Anne. "I would fain believe so," said the king; "but there are some persons who would persuade me that you ha\e not only lost your affection for me, but have even cast eyes of regard on another." "Those who told you s,o lied!" cried A; ne passionately. "Never woman was freer Tom such imputation than myself." iver woman was more consummate hypocrite," muttered Henry. "You do not credit me, I see," cried Anne. "If I did not, I shouiJ know how to act," replied the king. "You remember my pledge?" "Full well," replied Anne; "and if love and duty would not restrain me, fear would." "So I felt," rejoined the king; "but there are some of your sex upon whom nothing will operate as a warning— so faithless and inconstant are they by ature. It has been hinted to me that you are one of these; but I cannot think it. I can never believe that a woman for v iom I have placed my very throne in jeopardy— for whom I have divorced i .: »5» HKNRY VIII my queen— whose family i have elevated and ennobled— and whom I have placed upon the throne— would play me false. It is monstrous !— incredible ! " "It is— it is!" replied Anne. " And now farewell," said Henry. " I have stayed longer than I intended, and I should not have mentioned these accusations, which I regard as wholly groundless, unless you had reproached me." And he quitted the chamber. leaving Anne in a strange state of perplexity and terror. The first of May arrived; and though destined to set in darkness and despair, it arose in sunshine and smiles. All were astir at an early hour within the castle, and pre- parations were made for the approaching show, l-ists were erected in the upper quadrangle, and the whole of the vast area was strewn with sand. In front of the royal lodgings was raised a gallery, the centre of which, being set apart for the queen and her dames, was covered with cloth of gold and crimson velvet, on which the royal arms were gorgeously emblazoned. The two wings were likewise richly decorated, and adorned with scutcheons and pennons, while from the battlements of thf; eastern side of the court wer'^ hung a couple of long flags. As soon as these preparations were completed, a throng of pages, esquires, armourers, archers, and henchmen en- tered it from the Norman gateway, and took up positions within the barriers, the space without the pales being kept by a double line of halberdiers. Next came the trumpeters, mounted on richly-caparisoned horses, and having their clarions decorated with silken bandrols, fringed with gold. Stationing themselves at the principal entrance of the lists, they were speedily joined by the heralds, persuivants, and other officers of the tilt-yard. Presently afterwards, the Duke of Suffolk, who was appointed THK DKATH OF ANNK HOl.KVN »5.^ jud^e of the lists, appeared, and ror!c round the aiena to see that all was in order. Apparently well atisficd with the survey, he dismounted, and proceeded to the gallery. Meanwhile, the crowd within the court was increased b a great influx of the different members of the household, amongst whom were Shoreditch, Paddmgton, and Hector Cutbeard. "Well, this promises to be a ..plendid sight!" said the clerk of the kitchen ; "the king will, no doubt, do his devoir gallandy for the sake of the bright eyes that will look upon him." "You mean the queen's, of course?' sdd Shoreditch. "I mean her who may be queen,' replied Cutbeard; " Mistress Jane Seymour." " May be queen ! " exclaimed Shoreditch. " You surely do not think the king will divorce his present consort?" " Stranger things have happened," replied Cutbeard signifi- cantly. " It I am not greatly out of my reckoning," he added, " this is the last spectacle Queen Anne will behold." "The Saints forefendl" cried Shorditch; "what reason have you for thinking so?" "That I may not declare," replied Cutbeard; "but before the jousts are over you will see whether I have been rightly informed or not." "Hush!" exclaimed Shoreditch. "There is a tall monk eyeing us strangely; and I am not certain that he has not overheard what you have said." "He is welcome to the intelligence," replied Cutbeard; "the end will prove its truth." Though this was uttered in a confident tone, he never- theless glanced with some misgiving at the monk, who stood behind Paddington. The object of the investigation was a very tall man, with a cowl drawn over his brow. He had a ragged black beard, fierce dark eyes, and a complexion I j| 154 HENRY VIII like bronze. Seeing Cutbeard's glance anxiously fixed upon him, he advanced towards him, and said in a low tone: "You have nothing to fear from me; but talk not so loud if you value your head." So saying, he proceeded to another part of the lists. "Who is that tall monk?" asked Paddington. "Devil knows!" answered Cutbeard; "I never saw him before. "But he has a villainous and cut-throat look." Soon afterwards a flourish of trumpets was heard, and mid their joyous bruit the quern, sumptuously arrayed in cloth of gold and ermine, and having a small crown upon her brow, entered the gallery, and took her seat within it. Never had she looked more beautiful than on this fatal morning, and in the eyes of all the beholders she com- pletely eclipsed her rival, Jane Seymour. The latter, who stood on her right hand, and was exquisitely attired, had a thoughtful and anxious air, as if some grave matter weighed upon her mind. While the queen's attendants were taking their places, Lord Rochford, accompanied by Sir Henry Norris and the Earls of Surrey and Essex, entered the lists. The four knights were completely armed, and mounted on powerful steeds barded with rich cloth of gold, embroidered with silver letters. Each had a great crimson plume in his helmet. They rode singly round the arena, and bowed as they passed the royal gallery, Norris bending almost to his saddle-bow while performing his salutation to the queen. The field being thus taken by the challengers, who retired to the upper end of the court, a trumpet was thrice sounded by a herald, and an answer was immediately made by another herald stationed opposite Henry the Seventh's buildings. When the clamour ceased, the king, fully armed, and followed by the Maiquis of Dorset, Sir Thomas Wyat, and the Lord Clifford, rode into the lists. THE DEATH OF ANNE BOLEYN 155 Henry was equipped in a superb suit of armour, inlaid with gold, and having a breastplate of the globose form, then in vogue; his helmet was decorated with a large snow- white plume. The trappings of his steed were of crimson velvet, embroidered with the royal arms, and edged with great letters of massive gold bullion, fuU of pearls and precious stones. He was attended by a hundred gentlemen, armourers, and other officers, arrayed in white velvet. Having ridden round the court like the others, and ad- dressed his salutation exclusively to Jane Seymour, Henry took his station with his companions near the base of the Round Tower, ihe summit of which was covered with spectators, as were the towers and battlements around. A trumpet was now sounded, and the king and the Lord R.chford having each taken a lance from his esquire, awaited the signal to start from the Duke of Suffolk, who was seated in the left wing of the royal gallery. It was not long delayed. As the clarion sounded clearly and loudly for the third time, he called out that the champions might go. No sooner were the words uttered, than the thundering tramp of the steeds resounded, and the opponents met midway. Both their lances were shivered; but as the king did not, in the slightest degree, change his position, he was held to have the best of it. Courses were then run by the others, with varied success, the Marquis of Dorset being imhorsed by Sir Henry Norris, whose prowess was rewarded by the plaudits of the assemblage, and what was infinitely more dear to him, by the smiles of the queen. "You have ridden well, Norris," cried Henry, advancing towards him. "Place yourself opposite me, and let us splinter a lance together." As Norris reined back his stead, in compliance with the injunction, the tall monk stepped from out the line, and druvang near him, said, "If you wish to prove victorious, N iS6 HENRY VIII aim at the upper part of the king's helmet." And with these words he withdrew. By the time Norris had placed his lance in the rest, the trumpet sounded. The next moment the word was given, and the champions started. Henry rode with great impe- tuosity, and struck Norris in the gorget with such good will that both he and his steed were shaken. But Norris was more fortunate. Following the advice of the monk, he made the upper part of the king's helmet his mark, and the blow was so well dealt that, though he did not dislodge the royal horseman, it drove back his steed on its haunches. The success was so unequivocal, that Norris was at once declared the victor by jthe judge. No applause, however, followed the decision, from fear of giving offence to the king. Norris dismounted, and committing his steed to the care of an esquire, and his lance to a page, took off his helmet and advanced towf-ds the royal gallery, near which the Earl of Surrey and Sir Thomas Wyat were standing talking with the other dames. As Norris drew her, Anne leaned over the edge of the gallery, smiled at him tenderly, and, whether by design or accident, let fall her embroidered handkerchief Norris stooped to pick it up, regarding her, as he did so, with a glance of the most passionate devotion. A terrible gaze, however, was fixed on the unfortunate pair at that moment. It was that of the king. Henry raised his beaver, that he might see more distinctly, and beheld Norris take up the embroidered handkerchief, which he recognised as one that he had given, in the early days of his affection, to the queen. The sight stung him almost to madness, and he had great difficulty in repressing his choler. But if this slight action, ^^^> ■A THE DEATH OF ANNE BOLEYN 157 heightened to importance, as it was, by the looks of the parties, roused his ire, it was nothing to what followed. Instead of restoring it to the queen, Norris, unconscious of the danger in which he stood, pressed the handkerchief fervently to his lips. "I am hitherto the victor of the jousts," he said; "may I keep this as the prize?" Anne smiled assent. "It is the proudest I ever obtained," pursued Norris. And he placed it within his helmet. "Death of my life I" exclaimed Henry, "it is the very handkerchief I gave her before our union! I can contain myself no longer, and must perforce precipitate matters. What ho!" he cried, riding up to that part of the gallery where the Duke of Suffolk was seated— "let the jousts be stopped!" "Wherefore, my dear liege?" said Suffolk. "The Earl of Surrey and Sir Thomas Wyat are about to run a course." "Let them be stopped, I say!" roared Henry, in a tone that admitted of no dispute. And wheeling round his charger, he dashed into the middle of the barriers, shouting in loud, authoritative accents. " The jousts are at an end ! Disperse ! " The utmost consternation was occasioned by the announce- ment. The Duke of Suffolk instantly quitted his seat, and pressed through the crowd to the king, who whispered a few hasty words in his ear. Henry then called to the Earl of Surrey, the Marquis of Dorset, the Lord Clifford, Wyat, and some others, and bidding them attend him, prepared to quit the court. As he passed the royal gallery, Anne called to him in an agonized voice: "Oh, Henry! what is the matter?— what have I done?" But without paying the slightest attention to her, he dashed through the Norman Gate, galloped down the lower quadrangle, and quitted the castle. IS8 HENRY VIII The confusion that now ensued may be imagined. All saw that something extraordinary and terrible had taken place, though few knew precisely what it was. Dismay sat in every countenance, and the general anxiety was heighten- ed by the agitation of the queen, who, uttering a piercing scream, fell back, and was borne off in a state of insensi- bility by her attendants. Unable to control himself at the sight, Norris burst through the guard, and tu^-hing up the great staircase, soon gained the apartment to which the queen had been conveyed. Owing to the timely aid afforded her she was speedily restored, and the first person her eyes fell upon was her lover. At the sight of him a glance of affection illumined her features, but it was instandy changed into an expression of alarm. At this juncture the Duke of Suffolk, who, with Bouchier and a party of halberdiers, had entered the room, stepped up to the queen, and said: "Will it please you, madam, to retire to an inner apart- ment? I grieve to say you are under arrest." "Arrest!" exclaimed Anne; "for what crime, your grace?" "You are charged with incontinency towards the king's highness," replied Suffolk sternly. "But I am innocent!" cried Anne— "as Heaven shall judge me, I am innocent!" "I trust you will be able to prove yourself so, madam," said Suffolk. "Sir Henry Norris, your person is likewise attached." "Then I am lost indeed!" exclaimed Anne distractedly. "Do not let these false and malignant accusations alarm you, madam," said Norris. " You have nothing to fear. I will die protesting your innocence." "Sir Henry Norris," said the duke coldly, "your own imprudence has brought about this result." THE DEATH OF ANNE BOLEYN 159 "I feel it," replied Norris; "and I deserve the worst punishment that can be inflicted upon me for it. But I declare ratory. Anne Boleyn's arraignment took place in the great hall of the White Tower, o:. the i6th of May, 1536, before the Duke of Norfolk, who was created lord high steward for the occasion, and twenty-six peers. The duke had his seat under a canopy of state, and beneath him sat the Earl of Surrey, as deputy earl-marshal. Notwithstanding an eloquent and impassioned defence, Anne was found guilty ; and having been required to lay aside her crown and the other insignia of royalty, was condemned to be burned or beheaded at the king's pleasure. On the following day, she was summoned to the archiepis- copal palace at Lambeth, whither she was privately conveyed; and her marriage with the king was declared by Cranmer THE DEATH OF ANNE BOLEYN |6,^ I; to be null and void, and to have always been so. Death by the axe was the doom awarded to her by the king, and the day appointed for the execution was Friday, the iQth of May, at the hour of noon. Leaving the condur-t of the fatal ceremony to the Duke of Suffolk, who had orders to have a signal gun i ^ from the summit of the White Tower, which was to be answered from various points when all was over, Henry repaired to Windsor Castle on the evening of Thursday. Before this he had formally offered his hand to Jane Seymour; and while (he unfortunate queen was languishing within the Tower, he was basking in the smiles of his new mistress, and counting the hours till he could make her his own. On the Tuesday before the execution, Jane Seymour retired to her fp.ther's mansion, Wolff Hall, in Wiltshire, where preparations were made for the marriage, which it was arranged should take place there in private on the Saturday. On arriving at the castle, Henry gave out that he should hunt on the following morning in the Great Park, and retired to his closet. But he did not iong remain there, and putting on the disguise of a yeoman of the guard, de- scended by the narrow flight of steps occupying the same situation as the existing Hundred Steps, to the town, and proceeded to the Garter, where he found several guests assembled, discussing the aflairs of the day, and Bryan Bowntance's strong ale at the same time. Amongst the number were Shoreditch, Paddington, Hector Cutbeard, and Kit Coo. At the moment of the king's entrance, they were talking of the approaching execution. "Oh, the vanity of worldly greatness!" exclaimed Bryan, lifting up his hands. "Only seven years ago, last Saint George's Day, this lovely queen first entered the castle with the king, amid pomp and splendour and power, and ' ':l 164 HENRY VIII with a lonR life-apparently-of happiness. And now she is condemned to die!" "But if she has played the king false she deserves her doom," replied Shorcditch. "I would behead my own wife if she served me the same trick— that is, if I could." "You do right to say 'if you could " rejoined Pad- dington. "The beheading a wife is a /al privilege, and cannot be enjoyed by a subject." "Well, I wonder how the king could prefer Mistress Jane Seymour for my part!" said Hector CutL.ard. "To my thinking sh is not to be compared with Queen Anne." "She hi. ' lovely blue eye, and a figure as straight as an arrow," retu"ied Shoreditch. "How say you, master?" he added, turning to the king; "what think you of Mistress Jane Seymour?" "I think her passably fair, friend," replied Henry. "But how as compared with the late— that is, the present {|ueen, for, poor soul! she has yet some hours to live," rejoined Shoreditch. "How, as compared with her?" " Why, I think Jane Seymour ♦.he more lovely, undoubt- edly," replied Henry, "I it I may be prejudiced." "Not in the least, friend," said '"utbeard. "You but partake of your 1 yal master's humour. Jane Seymour is beautiful, no doul ;, and so was Anne Boleyn. Marry! we shall see many fair queens on the throne. The royal Henry has good taste and good management. He sets bis subjects a rare example, and shows them how to get rid :>t troublesome A-ives. We shall all divorce or hang our spouses when we get tired of them. I almost wish I was married myself, that 1 might try the experiment— ha! ha!" "Well, here's the king's health!" cried Shoreditch, "and wishing him as many wives as he may desire.— What say you, friend?" he added, turning to Henry. "Will you not drink that toast?" THE DEATH OF ANNE BOl.EYN 165 "That vill I," replied Henry; "but 1 fancy the king will 1)e content for the present with Mistress Jane Seymour." "For the present, no doubt," said Hector Cutbeard; "but the time will come— and ere long— when Jane will be as irksonoe to him as Anne is nov." "Ah, God's death, knave! darest thou say so?" cried Henry furiously. "Why, I have said nothing treasonable, I hope?" rejoined Cutbeard, turning pale; "1 only wish the king to be happy in his own way. And as he seems to delight in change of wives, I pray that he may have it to his heart's content." "A fair explanation," replied Henry, laughing. Both Cutbeard and Shoreditch were much alarmed lest the freedom of their expressions should be taken in um- brage by the king; but he calmed their fears by bestowing a good-humoured buffet on the cheek of the latter of them, and quuang the hostel, returned to the castle by the same way he had left it. On the following morning, about ten o'clock, he rode into the Great Park, attended by a numerous train. His demeanour was moody and stem, and a general gloom pervaded the company. Keeping on the western side of the park, the party crossed Cranboume Chase; but though they encountered several fine herds of deer, the king gave no orders to uncouple the hounds. At last they arrived at that part of the park where Sandpit (iate is now situated, and pursuing a path bordered by noble trees, a line buck was suddenly unharboured, upon which Henry gave orders to the huntsmen and others to follow him, adding that he himself should proceed to Snow Hill, where they would find him an hour hence. All understood why the king wished to be alone, and for what purpose he was about to repair to the eminence i66 HENRY VIII hti i: in question, and therefore, without a word, the whole com- pany started off in the chase. Meanwhile, the king rode slowly through the woods, often pausing to listen to the distant sounds of the hunters,' and noticing the shadows on the greensward as they grew shorter, and proclaimed the approach of noon. At length he arrived at Snow Hill, and stationed himself beneath the trees on its summit. From this spot a magnificent view of the castle, towering over its pomp of woods, now covered with foliage of the most vivid green, was commanded. The morning was bright and beautiful, the sky cloudless, and a gentle rain had fallen overnight, which had tempered the air and freshened the leaves and the greensward. The birds were singing blithely in the trees, and at the foot of the hill couched a herd of deer. All was genial and delightful, breathing of tenderness and peace, and calculated to soften the most obdurate heart. The scene was not without its effect upon Henry; but a fierce tumult raged within his breast. He fixed his eyes on the Round Tower, which was distinctly visible, and from which he expected the signal, and then tried to peer into the far horizon. But he could discern nothing. A cloud passed over the sun, and cast a momentary gloom over the smiling landscape. At the same time Henry's fancy was so powerfully excited, that he fancied he could behold the terrible tragedy enacting at the Tower. "She is now issuing forth into the green in front of Saint Peter's Chapel," said Henry to himself. "I can see her as distinctly as if I were there. Ah, how beautiful she looks I and how she moves all hearts to pity!— ha 1" The exclamation was occasioned by a flash of fire from the battlements of the Round Tower, followed by a volume of smoke, and in another second the deep boom of a gun was heard. VV. H. Ainsworth, Windsor Castle. EDWARD VI HOW THE PRINCESS ELIZABETH WON HER FIRST CASE The extensive authority and imperious character of Henry had retained the partizans of both religions in sub- jection; but upon his demise the hopes of the Protest- ants, and the fears of the Catholics, began to revive, and the zeal of these parties produced everywhere disputes and animosities,-the usual prelude to more fatal divisions. The Protector, the Duke of Somerset, had long been re garded as a secret partizan of the reformers: and being now invested with the regal authority, he threw aside all restraint, and at once discovered his intention of correct- ing the abuses of the ancient religion, and of adopting still more Protestant innovations. The Protector, in his schemes for advancing the Reform- ation, had always recourse to the counsels of Cranmer, who, being a man of moderation and prudence, was averse to all violent changes, and desired to bring over the people ^y insensible innovations to that system of doctrine and discipline which he deemed most perfect. He also, prob- ably, foresaw that a reformation which carefully avoided extremes was likely to be most lasting; and that a devotion merely spiritual was fitted only to the fervour of a new sect. He seems, therefore, to have contemplated the establish- ment of a hierarchy which might stand as a perpetual barrier against Rome, and retain the reverence of the people, even after their enthusiastic zeal had diminished or entirely evaporated. The person who opposed with greatest authority any further advances towards the Reform- 267 i68 EDWARD VI I ation was Gardner, Bishop of Winchester, who was secretly supported by the Earl of Warwick in the Council as a means of embarrassing the Protector, whose younger brother. Lord Seymour, had so wrought on the affections of the Queen Dowager, that she married him within a few months of Henry's death— a union which so increased his wealth and credit that he aimed at nothing less than the overthrow of the Regent, and seizing the reins of power himself. To increase his popularity, he affected the opinions of the most fanatical of the Reformers- spoke of reducing the number of bishop; -lessening the power of the convocation of the clergy— and, indeed, gave it to be secretly understood that he was opposed to the establishment of any hierarchy, as savouring too much of the doctrines of Rome. The great aim of Somerset's policy was to carry out the plan of the late King, and secure the union between Eng- land and Scotland, by the marriage of Edward with the infant Queen; but as the Catholic party in the latter coun- try was still dominant, all overtures for the alliance were courteously refused, and a war was the consequence, in which the Scots, as usual, were worsted; but the advan- tages not being pushed to the last extremity, it only in- spired that impetuous people with a still greater aversion to a union so violently courted. The Queen Dowager of Scotland, finding that such was the general feeling of the nation, called a parliament at Haddington, and it was there proposed that the youthful Mary should, for still further security, be sent to France, and committed to the guardianship of that ancient ally, who, dreading the consequence of the English alliance, seconded the measure with all their influence. It was while the Protector was engaged in the war to Mfhich these circumstances gave rise, that Lord Seymour HOW PRINCESS ELIZABETH WON HER CASE 169 sought the occasion of his overthrow, and made an attempt which ultimately recoiled upon himself. He represented to his friends that formerly, during a minority, the office of protector of a kingdom had ever been kept distinct from that of governor of the King's per- son, and that the union of these important offices in one person conferred an authority dangerous to the well-being of the kingdom. He even procured a letter from the young King, addresser! to the parliament, in which Edward desired that Seymour might be appointed his governor. 1 he design, however, - as discovered, and a party of nobles sent to remonstrate wiih him. He received them haughtily and threatened, if his just claims were rejected, to make the par' lent the blackest which ever sat in England. Alarmeo at his proceedings, the Council summoned him before them to answer for his conduct. He refused to attend; upon which they threatened to order him to the Tower; at the same time stating that, so far from the young King's letter being a protection, it would be con- sidered as an aggravation of his offence. This firmness, added to the loss of influence which he experienced on the death of his wife, the Queen Dowager, induced him to submit to his brother, and a hollow reconciliation was patch- ed up between them. Once more a widower, Seymour now turned his an ')i. tious views towards the throne itself. He saw that Edward's constitution was weak, that in all probabihty he would not ive long; he therefore secretly made his addresses to the Irincess Elizabeth, then in the sixteenth year of her age; and that lady, whom even the pursuit of ambition and the hurry of political intrigue could not, in her more advanced years, entirely disengage from the influence of the tender passion, seems to have listened to his overtures with con- Mderable complacency. But as Henry, by his will, had ex- o 170 EDWARD VI eluded his daughter from all share in the succession, unless they married with the consent of his executors, and that consent it was certain Seymour never could obtain, it was concluded that he meant to effect his purpose by expedi- ents even more rash and criminal. Secretly as these pro- ceedings had been carried on, they reached the ears of the Council, and several secret meetings h^.d been held to consi_er whether the moment had not arrived to arrest the daring conspirator. Warwick, to the astonishment of all, was against such a proceeding, his secret aim being to involve the Lady Elizabeth in Seymour's downfall, and so remove one barrier to him and the long-cherished ob- ject of his ambition. On one occasion, while waiting in the ante-chamber, Patch, the court jester, heard voices in loud and stormy debate within. This was the more unusual, as King Edward himself presided at the council-board. "One would imagine," said the jester, in his usual sar- castic tone, "that the King amused himself at shovel-board, instead of presiding at a council board. Didst hear that voice?" •"Twas Warwick's," observed his companion; "his fortune swells him." "And will," added Patch, "until the bubble bursts. When the oak hath fallen, the reed imagines itself an oak. There are shades which haunt these walls must smile in bitter mockery at the fantastic tricks of their successors— pig- mies playing at the Titan's games." "The dispute grows warmer." "Wouldst like to see the interior of the ant-hill?" demand- ed Patch. "What mean you?" "Follow me," continued his friend: "the Syracusan tyrant was not the only one who framed an error to test his m " WOULDST LIKE TO SEE THE INTERIOR OK THE ANT-HILL ? " DEMANDED PATCH. Fact ^. ./» HOW PRINCESS EIJZAI5KTH WON HER CASE ,7, )iild one courtiers' truth. There are secrets in this palace make Satan smile with admiration, were he plannin tor his own home." "Mean you—" "Follow me, and see." Hastily passing from the ante-chamber. they entered the Zd'with rr'f ^' "'^ ''-''' '''' in'niches. som tee and il ' ' ?'"'"^'^' damascened in Milan stee., and at the east end of the room, in a recess was he .magnificent one both for man and horse, worn by h" a te k,ng, and presented to him by his sometime ally and Ffth ' The ^°'"^.^'"%^"^->'' ^he Emperor Charles the l.tth rhe species of arch under which it stood was panelled m oak, to correspond with the rest of the aplrt ment. After carefully looking round to see that hey w^re larr enn ,1 ^ f"'"' "''"" " P°^^'°" "^ '^' -^i"«-ot. back Tnd'. T '' ' ^'°"* P^--^"" P-^'"^. ^I'ed J)ack, and discovered a passage dimlv lit by loopholes St? til ,f '\"f ^' ^'"'^ '^"^ ^^^^-" °f his where- abouts, till they reached a small closet, in which were two hairs covered with rich brocade, but enveloped in d s" wt f T \ 'P'""''"' ''^''^ P'^'-^^d' extending to the )ack of the throne, and through which the voices of the speakers at the council-board were conveyed as by so many speaking-trumpets to the inmates of the room An ingenious contrivance," observed the jester's com- panion, as he gazed curiously around _^^'*niut is more ingenious than tyranny?" demanded the "Was this the late King's contrivance?" f 172 EDWARD VI \V Ml "No, his father's," replied the jester, "the man with a kingly crown and scrivener's heart; whose wisdom was to suspect all and trust to no man— who loved gold better than heaven, and who only left his hoards behind, because he could hit on no means of taking them with him— whose life was one incarnate lie— who murdered the heir he pretended to avenge, and blackened Richard's memory to justify his own." At this moment they heard Warwick propose that a warrant should be made out for Seymour's committal to the Tower, to be used only in the event of his completing his projected marriage with the Princess Elizabeth, whose want of duty and respect to her brother and sovereign, Edward, ia listening to such clandestine proposals, he painted in language but too well calculated to excite the young Prince's resentment. "Why not proceed at oncer" demanded the Duke of Somerset, who was seated upon a stool placed on the throne itself, beside his nephew; "I cannot see the motive for this delay." "Nor I," modestly added the youthful Prince. "These are the things the world calls statesmen," mutter- ed the jester. "The motive is as clear as any sunbeam; aught save a bat or born owl might see through it." "Were it not wiser," continued Warwick, he prudently put the question interrogatively, in order to feel his ground as he went along, "to let the Princess still further com- mit herself, even to the consenting of a private marriage with this ambitious man, and by that act forfeit all chance of succession to the crown?" "And then?" said Cranmer, fixing an inquiring glance upon the speaker. "Arrest them both together: Seymour will be taken in the overt act of treason ; Elizabeth in rebellion to her brother's will." ! HOW PRINCESS EUZABKTH WON HER CASE 173 All the members of the Council present, except Cranmer, whose affection for his goddaughter induced him to oppose it, voted in favour of the proposition of the Earl, to whom the warrant, signed by the King and Somerset's own hands, was accordingly entrusted, to be put in force the moment he should find the act of treason accomplished; indeed, so excited were both the Protector and the youthful Edward that it required all the Primate's eloquence to prevent the name of the imprudent Princess from being included in the order of arrest; as it was, he only postponed it. That very night two horsemen, dressed as Italian mer- chants, each carrying a small bale of merchandise upon his saddlebow, set out for Hatfield, the residence of the Princess Elizabeth, who, although regarded with more favour by her Protestant brother than the Catholic Princess Mary, was still, from her proximity to the crown, an object of suspicion; and from the attachment which the great body of Reformers bore her person— almost of rivalry. Seymour was not far wrong in his calculation when he thought that the possession of her hand would prove a stepping-stone to the realisation of his dreams of ambition. It is impossible to ascertain at this remote period how far the courtship was really carried between Seymour and the youthful Princess, but there is every reason to beheve that she was fascinated with the elegant manners and eloquent tongue of her suitor, and but for the interference of the Council, would have married him, despite the clause in her father's will, which, as Edward was then in health, and many stood between her and the succession, affected her but little. It would have been a singular marriage, that of the brother of Jane Seymour and the daughter of Anne Boleyn. Elizabeth was walking in the grounds of Hatfield, attend- ed by the ladies of her little court, who, in point of fact, '74 KDWARD VI It were no other than spies upon her conduct, placei ere by the jealous Somerset and intriguing Warwick to watch her conduct, when the two traders, having all the appearance of Italian merchants, were seen making their way towards the house. The heart of the Princess was ill at ease. With her usual penetration— for she was remarkable for that quality even at that early age— she saw that she was surrotmdea by those who, under the mask of respect, were little better than enemies, ready to catch at each unguarded word. She had promised that very evening to meet her lover— to listen to his vows, if not to yield to his importunate entreaties for a secret marriage, which something whispered her would be the signal of his riiin, if not her own. Time hung, as it always does in wi -nents of anxiety, with leaden pinions; and despite her hauit of self-command, a close observer might have seen by her restless eye that her heart was ill at ease. No sooner did the horsemen perceive the Princess than they dismounted from their steeds, which they consigned to two stout serving-men who followed them. They approached the group of ladies. "Back, fellow!" said Lady Mortimer, who acted as mistress of the little household at Hatfield, where, at this period, Elizabeth was only a temporary visitor; "no strang- ers are permitted to approach her Clrace." The intruders instantly paused, not to alarm the party, and respectfully uncovered to the future queen, who gently inclined her head, at the same time demanding of the speaker who the strangers were. "Traders, I believe," replied her ladyship. "From Milan, your Grace,"added the elder of the strang- ers, who was, in fact, no other than Patch. "I have passe- menteries might serve an empress for her coronation robes, I i HOW PRINCESS KUZABETH WON HER CASE ,75 and taflcty fit to line them, jewel-work from Florence, a ring from Cellini's own hand, and a pearl which her High- ness Louise of Savoy sent to the Constable Hourbon when she offered him her hand in marriage, as a means of set- tling their disputes; laces of Venice," he added, "and cun- ning work from Flanders-merchandise worthy of beauty's eyes to dwell upon." One of the traders was occupied during this speech in unbuckling the straps of the packs, and displaying their contents to view. F:iizabeth, not suspecting that the traders were other than what they seemed, wi.s turning coldly away, when the entreaties of her attendants arrested her step, and she suffered herself to he persuaded to e.xamine the strangers' merchandise, much 01 which was really curious and valuable. During Lhis operation one of the two traders was tellin'' the fortunes of the ladies, and the Princess observed tiie process for some time with a cool, steady glance as if she were mentally reading the man. "Thou art a clever knave," she at last cxclaimel. "Bm come," she added, good humouredly, "let me try thy skill in fortune-telling. Tell me, what has Fate in reserve former" "A crown," replied Patch, without a moment's hesitation. "Speak lower," said the Princess, who began to feel aliirmcd at her imprudence, well knowing that such a pre- diction might materially injure her both with Edward and her sister Mary, should any of the spies around her o\ er- hear it. "When?" she added. "After trials which will wear your patience, and dangers which it will require all your prudence to avoid," whispered the jester. "Whence arises my chief danger?" anxiouslv inquired the Princess. "Love." i II 176 KDWARD VI The questioner started -it seemed as if a warning was thus singularly conveyed to her of the precipice upon the brink of which she so incautiously was treading. "Keep not your rendez-vous tonight," continued the speaker, "nor write the promise which ambition, and not love, demands. Kvil eyes are upon you, lady-evil hands ready to work you ill. The warrant is already signed for Seymour's arrest." "His arrest?" faltered Elizabeth. " Vou cannot save him, but may share his ruin. Farewell, lady," added the speaker ; " my task is ended. He faithful to yourself, and let not a moment's weakness mar your fortunes." The rest of the ladies were so a.stonished at the effect produced upon the Princess, that they feared to make a trial of the merchant's skill, but suffered both him and his companion to depart without further question. As soon as they were gone, Elizabeth, under plea of indisposition, retired to Hatfield House, where she immediately secluded herself from the observation of her hou.sehold to reflect upon the warning she had received. In the delightful grounds which surrounded the mansion stood a species of labyrinth or grotto, adorned with shells and minerals wrought into quaint devices. At the further end a fountain gave an artificial coolness during the heat of summer to the recess, in which Seymour and the thoui;]it less object of his passion were accustomed to meet. "^In this grotto a pursuivant-ofarms and a dozen halberdiers had been for several hours concealed, when a horseman, gallantly mounted, drew rein near the mouth of their retreat! They had received their orders, and it seems their instruc- tions were not to secure the intruder alone. Warwick's plan was to arrest the lovers at the very moment of their meet- ing. The night, fortunately for their intentions, was a dark one, and suited to their purpose. HOW PRINCESS FMZAnKTH WON MKR CASK 177 "Curse on this delay!" exclaimed the impatient Seymour, after he had paced for upwards of an hour the moxs- covered floor of the palace of rendezvous. "What can have detained her? Were she once mine," he thought, " I would throw off the mask and face my serpent brother. Wedded to Elizabeth, the Reformers would unhesitatingly throw themselves into my hands; and so supported, wliat might I not achieve? The protectorship -the crown itself," he slowly added; "for there are those who think with me that Kdward's life is worth but little purchase, and Mary's title bad by her mother's most unholy marriage. Would she were here! " Scarcely had the aspiring lover-if Ijver he might be called, whose love was but a stepping-stone to his ambition- finished his reflections, than a figure, dressed in white and covered with a thickly embroidered veil, was seen cautiously to approach the grotto. Seymour no sooner beheld her than he exclaimed, "Klizabeth! " and instantly enfolded her in his embrace. ISefore one word of warning or re- proof could be uttered, the concealed hai!)erdiers, heaucu by the pursuivant, burst from their concealment, and the latter, laying his hand upon the shoulder of the noble, in the King's name arrested him. Knowing the fiery temper of the man they had to deal with, the captors prudently disarmed him before he recovered from his surprise; and throwing a cloak over his head, to drown his cries, should he attempt to call assistance, they hurried him' to a litter which they had left concealed within the grove, and quietly left the domain of Hatfield for the high-road,' where a troop of horse was waiting to escort them back to London. "Princess," said the pursuivant, bending the knee before the veiled figure, " pardon me the office it is mv duty to perform. Vou are a prisoner." j H J : 1 fi-^^HH 178 EDWARD VI "I am no princess, " replied tlie lady liLHightily, attempt- ing at the same time to pass him. " My orders," resumed the officer, intercepting her passage, "are to arrest any lady whom I may find in company with the Lord Seymour. Will it please you follow me?" "This is some error!" exclaimed the female in a suppH- eating voice; "indeed it is an error! let me return to the house and I will reward you amply. You will repent this," she added. ■'Lady," said the officer, more than ever convinced of the high rank of the speaker, " I am faithful, the order for your arrest is sealed with the King's own seal, signed by his hand. Think you without due warrant I had ventured to this extremity? Force me not, I beseech your Grace, to use measures unworthy of your dignity." On a signal given by the speaker, a second litter was brought from the wood, into which the reluctant lady was compelled to enter, and the whole party started on their return, the pursuivant fully satisfied that he had succeeded m the object of his mission and captured both the lovers, an achie>ement for which he well knew both the Protector and Warwick would liberally reward him. The following day he arrived with his prisoners at the Tower. Seymour was instantly conveyed to the prison in the governor's keep, and the second litter, with a great mystery and respect, to the royal lodgings. It was whispered, as it passed, that it contained the Princess Eiizabeth. "Poor thing!" exclaimed an old warder, when he heard it; "I can well remember the arrival of her mother." About noon on the following day, Cheapside was thrown into confusion by the arrival of the King, who, attended by the Duke of Somerset, Warwick, Cranmer, and the rest of the lords of th2 Coimcil, was on liis way to the Tower. HOW PRINCESS ELIZABETH WON HER CASE ,79 Edward at this time was in his fifteenth vcur, tall, and re- markably graceful for his years, .n.: !v>hly popular with the citizens, both on account ot rs youtii anri the compar- ative mildness of his governm :nN so (liirer...t from the .ron rule of his father. The yoi.:v; Kin, bitt. rly regretted the step into wliich he had been Decrayed ir ordering the arrest of his sister, and he evinced a determination To in- vestigate the charges against her himself-so unusual, that both Warwick and the Protector had cause for reflection The lion's cub began to show that in time it would be a lion too. The monarch bowed gracefully to the acclamations of his subjects as he passed along, and with a gallantry worthy of the descendant of Edward the Fourth, dofted his plumed cap to the fair ladies in the balconies, whence lovin^ eyes darted their light upon him, and gentle lips spoke ble^ssin-s as he went. On his arrival at the Tower, Sir William Kingston pre- sented the keys of the fortress on a golden salver; the Prince merrily touched them, in token of his sovereignty, then smilingly returned them, observing as he did so,"that they could not be in more faithful hands. The proud Duke of Somerset was so thrown into the shade by the royal bearing of his nephew, that he experien- ced a pang of jealousy at the change, and instead of yielding to the assumption of the monarch gracefully, he ^ cnted his spleen during the day by endeavouring at every step to thwart h^m; a proceeding as impolitic as it was useless. "Our uncle seems in no very gracious humour," whisper- ed the King to Cranmer, as, leaning on his arm, he entered the Council Chamber, where Seymour had been already brought. Edward had come with the express intention of acting iSo EDWARD VI fav(jiirably towards the unhappy man, who.'.» violence unfortunately for himself, and fortunately for iiis enemies! broke forth at the very first question put to him by the' Prunate. On this his nephew at once ordered him to be conveyed to his prison, and henceforth took little, if anv, interest in his fate. "We have another prisoner to (|uestion here," observed AVarwick, as soon as Seymour had been removed; "The Princess Elizabeth." "Say rather an explanation to hear," interrupted Edward, gravely; for Elizabeth had ever been the favourite of his sisters. "Here is the warrant for her apprehension," said Somer- set, pointing at the same time to the parchment bearing his own and nephew's signatures lying on the Council table. The monarch motioned to the Primate to pass it to him. He read it carefully as soon as he received it, and retain- ed It in his hand. "A chair of state," he exclaimed to the governor of the Tower, "for our sister." The supposed princess was introduced, still wearing her veil. The Council rose upon her entrance, and the King himself motioned her to the seat which had been placed for her. "This is not the Princess Elizabeth!" exclaimed the Earl of Warwick, who had been scanning her figure narrowly; "there is some mistake here." "I told them so," said the lady; "but no one would believe me." She threw aside her veil as she spoke, and discovered the features of Lady Mortimer. "What means this mummery?" coarsely demanded Somer- set. "Answer to me, or-" "Answer to me," mildly interrupted Edward. "Rise, i ; HOW TRIXCKSS KIJZAUKTH WON HER CASK ,8, Lady Mortimer. (Jur undo is soldier, and Ins „,anncrs mTsTry •• ""^'''' too rudely of the camp. Explain thL "Where-"' '''"" '^'' ''""■ ^' "'^' '""''^ ""^^^^'^^•" "To the grotto at Hatfield, sire." " \\'hom to give it to ? " "To Eord Seymour." Lul'v ^^" ^"'.'•'■^•" ^'«"dly exclaimed Warwick; "this ady has been mistaken f,;r her (iracc. There is still time to execute the warrant." "- "Had we not better read the letter first'" Ihe letter which was in the hand-writin:? of Kli/ahetl, was handed by Edward to the Primate, who hastily bea.' foL. !:-''' ''''^ ''°"' '^ ''^^ ^^'-'^hed Council as "My lord.-I thank you in all honesty for your '^ood opimon of me, which is doubtless llattering to one o? my mexpenence and years. I neither accept'nor declh e t refernng myself in all th-" , -.uchin^ the disposition of my unworthy hand to tho c J^ uis>position ot Jvernurr. I ^ ' " ^ of '"Y dear brother and so^ere.gn lord your master, .. well as mine. Unless you "EUZAUETH." "A prudent and a wise reply," -. Jded Cranmer as he l-ssed the letter to the members of tho Council A jugghng one!" exclaimed Somerset, impatient that he Pnncess had eluded the snare; "but it'is n't too lat;! lit ^°°^u '^°"^"^^"' ^^'th Sir William Kingston, start th.s_v-ery hour for Hatfield. We have other%vidence! "Let them not stir," said Edward, rising and tearing ! i •III f m M - 1 1 1 ? \ I 1 5* 1 l83 EDWARD VI the warrant into several pieces; "our sister is absolved in our judgment." "But not in mine," interrupted the imprudent duke. Edward eyed him for a few moments with an air of cold surprise; and, for the first time perhaps, the idea struck him that he should like to throw off the tutelage of both his uncles. Warwick watched the glance, and was not slow to profit by it. " We have heard the expression of his Highness's pleasure," he exclaimed; "my lords, the Council, I presume, is ended." J. ¥. S.MiTH, Stanford Hall. MARY HOW THE LADY JANR OREY DIED cvertu.. lower, at the oj)posite angle. Janes pnson was sufHciently commodious and hv ''Vlarys express injunctions, every atfenfinn . • ' ^ her situation was shown h^r l". ^"^""'" consistent with eisIPr ,f Vu ^^'■''""^ ^s '' may seem she felt easier, if not hapn er thin sho Ko^ ^ , ^'^*""' ^"^ leit part of the period nVh. n ""' ^"""^ ^^^ '^"er satisfied wtth herself an TT ''^^"' ^^^^ ^^^ ^is- the failure^f hi en ir L Th 7 '^'■>"^'^-^' -«ain of now. the wors wTs pTs ' Vo , °''^'-^'^ ^^""-•- of the world loc^A^.V '":'"'''''^^y'^^ herself whol y to God U "i'' ''''''''''' ^"" ^^^^e She pr..ed li^ ^:^ f^ :c:i^i-^T'''";^-' do for months- ind th. lu ^^ '^^^" ^^'e to n".rra„red "and r canno, be ,„„ .hantm, rH^ave: t, .'r,?x 'iriirsr: ^"";"* -^ ~ *^ ror,i.„de!- i„rr fear hk 7.'''"' ''' ""' "'* O')"^' him, Lord! besefch .tV'^H , "" "'" "'^'- S'««ain or hi, condition '' ""' """■" "'"- "■ ' '™= ^ense Convinced .ha, her days we.e „o>v „„,„,„ed. having 1 84 MARY i no hope of pardon, scarcely desiring it, and determined to reject it if coupled with any conditions affecting her faith, Jane made every preparation for her end. No longer giving up a portion of her time to study, she entirely occupied herself with her devotions. Influenced by the controversial spirit of the times, she had before been as anxious to over- come her opponents in argument as they were to convince her of her errors. Now, though feeling equally strong in her cause, she was more lowly-minded. Reproaching her- self bitterly with her departure from her duty, she sought by incessant praj'er, by nightly vigil, by earnest and heart- felt supplication, to wipe out the offence. "I have not sinned in ignorance," she thought, "but with my e3-es open, and therefore my fault is far greater than if no light had been vouchsafed me. By sincere contrition alone can I hope to work out my salvation; and if sorrow, remorse, and shame, combined with the most earnest desire of amendment, constitute repentance, I am truly contrite. But I feel my own unworthiness, and though I know the mercy of Heaven is infinite, yet I scarcely dare to hope for for- giveness for my trespasses. I have trusted too much to myself already— and find that I relied on a broken reed. I will now trust only to God." And thus she passed her time, in the strictest self-examin- ation, fixing her thoughts above, and withdrawing them as much as possible from earth. The effect was speedily manifest in her altered looks and demeanour. When first brought to the Martin Tower, she was downcast and de- spairing. Ere three days had passed, she became calm, and almost cheerful, and her features resumed their wonted serene and seraphic expression. She could not, it is true, deaden the pangs that ever and anon shook her when she thought of her husband and father. But she strove to con- sole herself by the hope that they would be purified, like d ! ■Pi f I IIMfi^ "she remained, \vhilf. light lasted, upon her knees." hact p. jij HOW THE LADY JANE GREY DIED ,85 their time of separafion would be l.rief. To the duke she addressed that touching letter preserved among the fe>v fragments o her writing, which, after it had been submit- ted o Gardmer. was allowed to be delivered to him It concluded w.th these woi Is. -' And thus, good father have opened unto you the sta^e wherein I presentiv stand - my death at hand. Although to you it may seem woful yet to me there .s nothing that can be more welcome than of alT'io! T T ""''' "^ '''"^^- ^« ''''' '— »' throne of all joy and pleasure, with Christ, my Saviour. In whose steadfast fauh (if it may be lawful for the daughter so to wnte to the father,, the Lord who hath hitherto strength ened you so continue to keep you, that at the last we may meet m heaven. ^ With her husband she was allosvcd no commimication • and m reply to her request to see him once more she was told that their sole meeting would be on the scaffold •- LT'"" -ir"'"' ^"^ '' ^'"' "°^ ""^"^^'^ '" ^-e<^"te them ogether. 1 he room, or rooms (for the large circular cham- Jane m the Martm Tower we,.- those on the upper story and her ch.ef place of resort during the day-time'L te of the deep embrasures looking towards the north. In this wirV^l^,"' ^"^observed and undisturbed, she remained, while hght lasted, upon her knees, with a book of prayer or the B.ble before her. fearful of losing one of the p aous moments which flew by so quickly.-and now so tran- Nly. At n.ght she withdrew, not to repose, but to a small table m the m.dst of the apartment, on which she placed ^e sacred volume and a lamp, and knelt down beside it. Had she not feared to disturb her calm condition, .she would not have allowed herself more than an hour's repose, at the longest mtervals nature could endure. But desirous of 111 i86 MARY maintaining her composure to the last, she yielded to the demand, and from midnight to the third hour stretched herself upon her couch. She then arose, and resumed her devotions. The same rules were observed in respect to the food she permittetl herself to take. Restricting herself to bread and water, she ate and drank sufficient to support nature, and no more. On the fourth day after her confinement, the jailer in- formed her there was a person without who had an order from the queen to see her. Though Jane would have gladly refu. admittance to the applicant, she answered meekly, "Let him come in." Immediately afterwards a grave-looking, middle-aged man, with a studious countenance overclouded with sorrow, appeared. He was attirea ',; a black robe, ana carried a flat velvet cap in his hand "What, Master Roger Ascham, my old instructor!" ex- claimed Jane, rising as he approached, and extending her hand to him, "I am glad to see you." Ascham was deeply affected. The tears rushed to his eyes, and it was some moments before he could speak. "Do not lament for me, good friend," said Jane, in a cheerful tone, " but rejoice with me, that I have so profited by your instructions as to be able to bear my present lot with resignation." "I do indeed heartil rejoice at it, honoured and dear madam," replied Ascham, subduing his emotion, "and I would gladly persuade myself that my instructions had ;on- tributed in however slight a degree to your present com- posure. But you derive your fortitude from a higher source than any on earth. It is your piety, not your wisdom that sustains you; and though I have pointed out the way to the living waters at v/hich you have drunk, it is to that fountain alone that you owe the inestimable blessing of i |i 1 HOW THE LADV JANE (JRKY DIED .S; your present frame of mind. I carr.c not hither to depress but to cheer you -not to instruct, but to l,e instructed' "^our hfe. madam, will afford the world one of the nol.lest essons It has ever received, and though your career may i.e closed at the point whence most others start, it will nave been run long enough. " "Alas! good Master Ascham." rejoined Jane, "I once bought that my life and its close would be profitable o our Cnurch -that my conduct might haply be a model o us^discples-and my name enrolled among its martyrs. Let hmi who standeth take heed lest he fall. I had too much confidence in myself I yielded to impulses, which, thotigh not culpable in the eyes of men, were so in those ot God. "Oh madam! you reproach yourself far too severelv • cried Ascham. "Unhappy circumstances have made you amenable to the laws of your country, it is true, and vou give up your life as a willing sacrifice to justice. Hut this >s all that ran, or will be required of you, bv vour earthly or sunr.p,e Judge. That your character might have been mor, Mjtely fauldess in the highest sense I will not deny, had you sacrificed every earthly feeling to duty. But I for one should not have admired-should not have loved you as I now love you, had you acted otherwise. What you consider a fault has proved you a true woman in heart and affection; and your constancy as a believer in the (.ospel, and upholder of its doctrines, has been equally strongly manifested. Your name in after ages will be Church "" """"^ "" g"'ding-star to the whole Protestant "Heaven grant it!" exclaimed Jane, fervently. "I once hoped— once thought so." "Hope so -think so still," rejoined Ascham. "Ah, dear madam, when I last took my leave of you before my !l-i i 1 88 MARY ficparturc for Germany, ami (oiind you in your rliauibcr at Bradgate, buried in the Phitdo of the divine philosopher, while your noble father and his friends were hunting, and disporting themselves in the park- when to my wondering (juestion as to why you did not join in their pastime, you answered, 'that all their sport in the park was but a shadow to the pleasure you found in IMato'— adding, 'alas! good folk, they never felt what true pleasure meant —at that time, I little thought for what a sad though proud destiny you were reserved." "Neither did I, good Master Ascham." replied Jane; "but you now find me a.t a better study. I have exchanged him whom you term, and truly, in a certain sense, the 'divine' philosopher, f6r writings derived from the highest source of inspiration— direct from heaven— and I find in this study more pleasure and far more profit than the other. And now farewell, good friend. Do me one last favour. He present at my ending. And see how she, whom you have taught to live, will die. Heaven bless you ! " "Heaven bless you, too, noble and dear lady," replied Ascham, kneeling and pressing her hand to his lips. "1 will obey your wishes." . He then arose, and covering his face to hide his fast- falling tears, withdrew. Jane, also, was much moved, for she was greatly attached to her old instructor; and to subdue her emotion, took a few turns within her chamber. In doing this, she noticed the various inscriptions and devices carved by former occupants; and taking a pin, traced with its point the following lines on the wall of the recess where she per- tormed her devotions:— Non .iliena putes homini quoe obtingere possuiit; Sors hodierna mihi, eras erst Wa, tihi. urm HOWniKl.ADVJANKcKKV DIKD ,.s., Underneath, she added the foll.nvin-', and subscribed ttieni with her name:— I>e.. juvnni,-, nil i.ocft livor inahis; El non jiivante. nil juvnt lal)i)r Kravi,! Tost tenehras, spci'o luceiii I The lines have been efTured. lU.t tradition has preserved then>. How deeply affecting is the wish of the patient sutterer— /^<;j/ hnehras, s/fro lucent! ' On the mornincr of Thursday, the 8th of February, the ja. er appeared with a countenance of unusua' gloom, and mft^rmed h.s captive that the Ueutenant of the Tower and Father Feckenham were without, and desired to see her. "Admit them," replied Jane. " I know their errand. Vou are r>ght welcome, sirs," she added, with a cheerful look, as they entered. "You bring me good news" "Alas! madam," replied Feckenham, sorrowfuliv, "we are the bearers of ill tidings. It is our melancholy ottice to aaiuamt you that your e.xecution is appointed for to- morrow, "Why. that is good news," returned Jane, with an un- altered countenance. " I have long and anxiously expected my release, and am glad to f^nd it so near at hand." 1 am further charged, by the queens highness, who des.res me not to kill the soul as well as the body," pursued i'eckenham, "to entreat you to use the few hours remain- ing to you m making your peace with heaven" I^will strive to do so, sir," replied Jane, meekly. enrn.cM"°'..i"'*'''''' "'^' "'^^""''" '■^J^*"^^ Feckenham, ourself wuh the holy Catholic Church, by which means >ou can alone ensure your salvation. For this end, sl.e ha. 'lesired me to continue near you to the last, and to use igo MARY .1. my best efforts for your conversion— and by God's grace I will do so." "You may spare yourself the labour, sir," replied Jane. "You will more easily overturn these solid walls by your arguments than my resolution." "At least suffer me to make the attempt," replied Fecken- ham. "That I have hitherto failed in convincing you is true, and I may fail now, but my very zeal must satisfy you that I have your welfare at heart, and am eager to deliver you from the bondage of Satan." "I have never doubted your zeal, sir," returned Jane; "nor— and I say it in all humility— do I doubt my own power to refute your arguments. But I must decline the contest now, because my time is short, and I would devote every moment to the service of God." '•That excuse shall not avail you, madam," rejoined Feckenham, significantly. "The queen and the chancellor are as anxious as I am for your conversion, and nothing shall be left undone to accomplish it." " I must submit, then," replied Jane, with a iook of re- signation. "But I repeat, you will lose your labour." "Time will show," returned Feckenham. " I have not yet dared to ask a question which has risen to my lips, but found no utterance," said Jane, in an altered tone. "My husband!— what of him?" -x "His execution will take place at the same time with your own," replied Feckenham. "I shall see him to-morrow, then?" cried Jane. " Perhaps before," returned Feckenham. "It were better not," said Jane, trembling. "1 know not whether I can support the interview." "I was right," muttered Feckenham to himself "The way to move her is through the affections." And he made a sign to the lieutenant, who (luitted the chamber. HOW THE LADY JANE GREY DIED 191 "Prepare yourself, madam," he added to June. "For what?" she cried. " For your husband's approach. He is here." As he spoke the door was opened, and Dudley rushed forward, and caught her in his arms. Not a word was uttered for some moments by the afflicted pair. The lady attendant withdrew, weeping as if her heart would break, into one of the recesses, and Feckenham and the lieutenant into another. After the lapse of a short time, thinking it a favourable opportunity for his purpose, the confessor came forward. Jane and her husband were still locked in each other's embrace, and it seemed as if nothing but force could tear them asunder. "I would not disturb you," said Feckenham, "but my orders are that this interview must be brief. I am empower- ed also to state, madam," he added to Jane, "that her majesty will even now pardon your ', isband, notwithstand- mg his heinous offences against ner, provided you are publicly reconciled with the Church of Rome." "I cannot do it," cried Jane, in a voice of agony-'T cannot —cannot." "Neither do I desire it," he replied. "I would not pur- chase life on such terms. We will die together." "Be u so," observed Feckenham, with a disconcerted look. "The offer will never be repeated." "It would never have been made at all, if there had been a chance of its acceptance." returned Dudley, coldly. "Tell your royal mistress, that I love my wife too well to re(|uire such a sacrifice at her hands, and that she loves me too well to make it." "Dudley!" exclaimed Jane, gazing at him with tearful eyes, "I can now die without a pang. ' "Have you aught more to say to each other? ' demanded feckenham. "You will meet no more on earth!" :|f 19* MARY "Yes, on the scaffold," cried Jane. '•Not so," replied Feckenham, gloomily. "Lord Guilford Dudley will suffer on Tower Hill— you, madam, will meet your sentence on the green before the White Tower, where Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard perished." "We shall meet in the grave, then," rejoined Dudley, bitterly, "where Mary's tyranny can neither reach us, nor the voice of juggling priest disturb us more." "Your prisoner," cried Feckenham, turning angrily to the lieutenant. "Farewell, dear Dudley," exclaimed Jane, straining him to her bosom— "be constant." "As yourself," he replied, gendy disengaging himself from her. "I am ready, sir," he added, to Brydges. And without hazarding another look at Jane, who fell back into the arms of her attendant, he quitted the chamber. Half an hour after this, when Jane had in some degree recovered from the shock, Feckenham returned, and inform- ed her that he had obtained from the Queen a reprieve for herself and her husband for three days. " You can now no longer allege the shortness of the time allowed you, as a reason for declining a conference with me," he said: "and I pray you address yourself earnestly to the subject, for I will not desist till I have convinced and converted you." "Then I shall have little of the time allotted me to my- self," replied Jane. " But I will not repine. My troubles may benefit others -if not myself." Monday, the 12th of February, 1554, the fatal day destined to terminate Jane's earthly sufferings, at length arrived. Excepting a couple of hours which she allowed to rest, at the urgent entreaty of her companion, she had passed the whole of the night in prayer. The repose of an infant could not be more calm and holy. A smile irradiated her coun- tenance; her lips moved as if in prayer; and if good angels HOW THE LADY JANE GREY DIED ,93 are ever permitted to visit the dreams of those they love on earth, they hovered that night over the couch of Jane. Thinking it cruelty to disturb her from such a blissful state, her attendant let an hour pass beyond the appointed time. But observing a change come over her countenance.-seeing her bosom heave, and tears gather beneath her eye-lashes, she touched her, and Jane instantly arose. "Is it four o'clock?" she inquired. " It has just struck five, madam," replied the attendant. " I have disobeyed you for the first and last time. But you seemed so happy, that I could not find it in my heart to waken you " "I was happy," replied Jane, "for I dreamed that all was over-without pain to me-and that my soul was borne to regions of celestial bliss by a troop of angels who had hovered about the scaflfold." "It will be so, madam," replied the lady, fervently. "You will quit this earth immediately for heaven, where you will rejoin your husband in everlasting happiness." "I trust so," replied Jane, in an altered tone, "but in that blessed place I searched in vain for him. Angela, you let me sleep too long, or not long enough." 'I Your pardon, dearest madam," cried the other, tearfully. "Nay, you have given me no offence," returned Jane kindly. "What I meant was, that I had not time to find my husband." "Oh, you will find him, dearest madam," returned the weeping attendant, " doubt it not. Your prayers would wash out his offences, even if his own could not." "I trust so." replied Jane. "And I will now pray for him, and do you pray, too." Jane then retired to the recess, and in the gloom, for it was yet dark, continued her devotions until the clock struck seven. She then arose, and assisted by her lady, Angela, attired herself with great care. i Hi 194 MARY I i "I pay more attention to the decoration of my body now I am about to part with it," she observed, "than I would do if it was to serve me longer. So joyful is the occasion to me, that were I to consult my own feelings, I would put on my richest apparel, to indicate my content- ment of heart. I will not, however, so brave my fate, but array myself in these weeds." And she put on a gown of black velvet, without ornament of any kind ; tying round her slender throat (so soon, alas! to be severed) a simple white falling collar. Her hair was left purposely unbraided, and was confined by a caul of black velvet. As Angela performed those sad services, she sobbed audibly. "Nay, cheer thee, child," observed Jane. "When I was clothed '•• the robes of royalty, and had the crown placed upon my brow,— nay, when arrayed on my wedding-day,— 1 felt not half so joyful as now." "Ah! madam!" exclaimed Angela, in a paroxysm of grief. " My condition is more pitable than yours. You go to certain happiness. But I lose you." " Only for a while, dear Angela," returned Jane. " Com- fort yourself with that thought. Let my fate be a warning to you. Be not dazzled by ambition. Had I not once yielded, I had never thus perished. Discharge your duty strictly to your eternal and your temporal rulers, and rest assured we shall meet again,— never to part." "Your counsel shall be graven on my heart, madam," returned Angela. "And oh! may my end be as happy as j'ours!" "Heaven grant it!" ejaculated Jane, fer^'ently. "And now," she added, as her toilette was ended, "I am ready to die." "Will you not take some refreshment, madam?" asked Angela. "No," replied Jane. "I have done with the body!" HOW THE LADY JANE GREY DIED ,95 httle before day-break, and a drizzling shower of rain fell rhis was succeeded by a thick mist and the whole of the fortress was for a while enveloped in vapour. It brought to Janes mind the day on which she was taken to trkl But a moral gloom likewise overspread the fortress. E^■erv one withm it. save her fevr enemies, (and they were few mdeed.) lamented Jane's approaching fate. Her youth her movT^H "' '•'''' ^°"^'^' '''' ^^-"-^ brU 'and moved the p.ty even of her persecutors. All fek that mormng as ,f some dire calamity was at hand, and instead of lookmg forward to the execution as an exciting spec 1h i '° t'^f ''"°^''"^ exhibitions were then consider- ed,) they wished « over. Many a prayer was breathed for the speedy release of the sufferer-many a sigh heaved- many a groan uttered; and if ever soul was wafted to Heaven by the fervent wishes of those on earth, Jane's wiis so. It was late before there were any signs of stir and bustle H thin the fortress. Even the soldiers gathered together reluctantly-and those who conversed, spoke in whfspe's b"?J' ''^° " ^^ ^^^" ''^''^ ^^'-« imprisoned in the Beauchamp Tower, had passed the greater part of the night m devotion. But towards morning, he became rest- ess and uneasy, and unable to compose himself, resorted the customary employment of captives in such cases, and with a na.l which he had found, carved his wife's name m two places on the walls of the prison. These in- scnptions still remain. an^Lcort nftt '".' ^'" °' '^' '^'^^P^' ^^°^" ^° ^°"' ^"d Z u u ^^^^''^'^'' ^"d arquebusiers drew up before he Beauchamp Tower, while Sir Thomas Brydges an.l ceive^^r 'T''* '^' "'^"•"^^^ ^f '^' P"^"ner. who re- ceded them with an unmoved countenance. iq6 MARY i I ! "Before you set out upon a journey from which you will never return, my lortl," said Feckenham, "I would ask you for the hist time if any change has taken place in your religious sentiments— and whether you are yet alive to the welfare of your sou! r " " Why not promise me pardon if I will recant on the scaffold, and silence me as you silenced tht .. ke my father, by the axe!" replied Dudley, sternly. "No, sir, I will have naught to do with your false and idolatrous creed. 1 shall die a firm believer in the gospel, and trust to be saved by it." "Then perish, body and soul," replied Feckenham, harshly, "Sir Thomas Bridges, I commit him to your hands." "Am I to be allowed no parting with my wife?" demand- ed Dudley, anxiously. "You have parted with her for ever,— heretic and un- believer!" rejoined Feckenham. "That speech will haunt your death-bed, sir," retorted Dudley, sternly. And he turned to the lieutenant, and signified that he was ready. The first object that met Dudley's gaze as he issued from his prison was the scaffold on the green. He looked at it for a moment, wistfully. "It is for Lady Jane," observed the lieutenant. "I know it," replied Dudley, in a voi-e of intense emo- tion.— "I thank you for letting me die first." " You must thank the Queen, my lord," returned Brydges. "It was her order." " .Shall you see my wife, sir ? " demanded Dudley, anxiously. The lieutenant answered in the affirmative. "Tell her I will be with her on the scaffold," said Dudley. The escort then moved forward, and the lieutenant accompanied the prisoner to the gateway of the Middle Tower, where he delivered him to the sheriffs and their HOW THE LADY JANE GRKV DIED r,: officers, who were waiting there for him with a Franciscan fnar. and then returned to fulfil his more painful duy A vast crowd was coUected on Tower Hill, and the stoL^ On quitting the Beauchamp Tower l'>rl-*.«i,n«, , , .o Jane's prison. „e r„u'd h^ V„ t wZlh immediately arose. ' ^ "Is it time?" she asked. "It is, madam, to repent," replied Feckenham stemlv A fe^v minutes are all that now remains to yoJ of^^'i" ^'^^i::^^.^'^:,^^ ^^ -ed .ef^e 1 • • J 6'- i iicrc IS yet time. Do not nerish nie- him m your sins." [Jerisn like herkn'eT '"' ""^' °" '^™'" --d Jane, falling on she^^ctrnut^'w''"' ''' importunities of the confessor. 1 homas Brydges. She mstantly understood why he came and ri,ng. prepared for departure. Almost blinded by tears' don', /'"r""'^ '^^ '''' ^^^ ^^"--« «he required S done, the heutenant. who was likewise greatly affected begged some slight remembrance of her ' I have nothing to give you but this book of prayers ^net^-r^;^;r---ethatwhen^L: so: J^nSeS t^e^:^ ^° ^ ^^ ^- ^^e flames, my repS tdgT^' ' ''-' ''''-'''' ' ''^ ^ P^'->e- «em." sai7jane-"l"nd ' '"T """^" '" '^ '" •">' °- hand," Crvnl Ti, ^^''" ^ '^J'' '"^y '^ profit you." Brydges then passed through the door, and Jane followed t ! 'I 'III ||( , ( iqS MARY ; '■ him. A band of halberdiers was without. At the sifiht of her a deep and general sympathy was manifested; not an eye was dry, and tears trickled down cheeks unaccustomed to such moisture. The melancholy train proceeded at a slow pace. Jane fixed her eyes upon the prayer-book, which she read aloud to drown the importunities of the confessor, who walked on her ripht, while Angela kept near her on the other side. And so ihey reached the green. By this time the fog had cleared off, and the rain had ceased ; but the atmosphere was humid, and the day lower- ing and gloomy. Very few spectators were assembled, — for it required fi'-m nerves to witness such a tragedy. A flock of carrion-crows and ravens, attracted by their fearful instinct, wheeled around overhead, or settled on the branches of the bare and leafless trees, and by their croaking added to the dismal character of the scene. The bell continued toUing all the time. The sole person upon the scafibld was occupied in scattering straw near the block; and as Jane for a moment raised her eyes as she passed along, she perceived Roger Ascham. Her old preceptor had obeyed her, and she repaid him with a look of gratitude. By the lieutenant's directions, she was conducted for a short time into the Beauchamp Tower, and here Fecken- ham continued his persecutions, until a deep groan arose among those without, and an officer abrupdy entered the room. " Madam," said Sir Thomas Brydges, after the new comer had delivered his message, "we must set forth." Jane made a motion of assent, and the party issued from the Beauchamp Tower, in front of which a band of halber- diers was drawn up. A wide open space was kept clear around the scaffold. Jane seemed unconscious of all that was passing. Preceded by the lieutenant, who took his HOW THF: LaDV JAXK GRKV DIKD ,ck) way tou'ards the north of the scaffold, and attended on ather s.de by Feckenham and Angela a l.efore she tent her eyes steadily fixed on her prayer-book ' Arrived within a short distinrp ^r tu r . , Husband, and unprepared for so lerrihl, ,„ . uttered a cry of horror. The bearl of ihrr.f "'"' While .h.s took place, Manger, who had limned back a, fas as he could after his bloody work on To^er HW only tarrying a moment to exchange hi. / l'~ the steps of the scaffold. Sir T^o,^ Zr'T"''''' rj^r'"-' '-' --" --y =■- ^^e sr^'ounTtt rroritZrTTn^"' ° ''™" "f ™">P«sion arose then adv-redto the rai "'■"!,":''" ""*'"'■ """"'■ «»» ^poke as Mows - • '"" '" ' *" *'"■"« >o.ce, ch ■strw^n.-'L^-thtr; z r-bn i^'^ - -^ means cvcept the mercv Jni ''^"''■^'' !=>• no other blood of his'ony SoT;: „s Ch^ta' I f "T"^ °f '^= the word of God I neglected it ad 1 . "'"" ' ''"''"■ world, and thereforr ,hT. ■ , ^^'^ '"''''" ""d the n.y sins. sTlZnthTf:""" " " '"" '"""' '"' .iven me a ti-^etd\e?p t XfnrtVr ''^ '■"J P^* While I am alive.", pray ZtifrnVS^r Many fer,em responses followed, and several of the by. I'l f i u i 11 200 MARY ill Slanders imitated Jane's example, as, on the conclusion of her speech, she fell on her knees and recited the Miwrere. At its close, Feckenham said in a loud voice, " I ask you, madam, for the last time, will you repent?" " I pray you, sir, to desist," replied Jane, meekly. " I am now at peace with all the world, and would die so." She then arose, and giving the prayer-book to Angela, said-" When all is over, deliver this to tVe lieutenant. These," she added, taking off her gloves and collar, " I give to you." "And to me," cried Mauger, advancing and prostrating himself before her, according to custom, " you give grace." " And also my head," replied Jane. " I forgive thee heartily, fellow. Thou art my best friend." "What ails you, madam?" remarked the lieutenant, ob- serving Jane suddenly start and tremble. "Not much," she replied, "but I thought I saw my hus- band pale and bleeding." "Where?" demanded the lieutenant, recalling Dudley's speech. "There, near the block," replied Jane. " I see ihe figure still. But it must be mere phantasy." Whatever his thoughts were, the li utcnant made no reply; and Jane turned to Angela, who now began with trembling hands, to remove her attire, and was trying to take off her velvet robe, when Mauger offered to assist her, but was instantly repulsed. He then withdrew, and stationiiig himself by the block, assumed his hideous black mask, and shouldered his axe. Partially disrobed, J z bowed her head, while Angela tied a kerchief over her eyes, and turned her long tresses over her head to be out of the way. Un-ible to control herself, she then turned aside, and wept aloud. Jane moved forward in search of the block, but fearful of making a false IKmTriKl.AI)VJ.\NKGRKVmE|, „, .ro,vd, some „f who™ presl;;;: * Sr"'." ","-' placed her han,l, Wforc her eve, ,„,1 Jnnll u "?'^ ^.enance ,v,.h hi, robe. * ,,,o,„a, Br^C^'teU Ily this time, Jane had placed her head on the l,lo.t .Jt:::-i-S,r----e.head, W. H. AiNSNVuKii,, 2Ac 2\n,er 0/ London, i!i\ II ii iii KMZABETH now SIR WAI.ltK RALEIUH UsKD HIS C'.. AK The habitation of Lord Siis^iN '.»a- an ancient liousc, called Say's Court, near Oeptford, wliich had long pertained to a family of that name, but had for upwards of a century, been possessed by the ancient and honourable family of Evelyn. The nresent representative of that ancient house took a deep interest in the Karl of Sussex, and had willingly accommodated both him and his numerous retinue in his hos'nr. .jie mansion. The Karl was taken ill there and Says Court was watched like a beleaguered fort; indeed so hijih rose the suspicions of the time, that attendants were stopped and questioned repeatedly by sentinels, both on foot and horseback, as they approached the abode of the sick Earl. In truth, the high rank which Sussex held in Queen Elizabeth's favour, and his known and avowed rivalry of the Karl of Leicester, caused the utmost import- ance to be attached to his welfare; for, at the period we treat of, all men doubted whether he or the Earl of Lei- cester might ultimately have the higher rank in her regard. The two nobles who at present stood us rivals in her favour, possessed very different pretensions to share it; yet it might be in general said, that the Earl of Sussex had been most serviceable to the Queen, while Leicester was most dear to the woman. Sussex was, according to the phrase of the times, a martialist; had done good service in Ireland, and in Scotland and especially in the great north em rebellion, in 1569 which was quelled, in a great meas ure, by his military talents. lie was, therefore, naturally lMri# HU\\\SIR\VAi;rKKRAl.KI{;ni^KI)insc:i.()\K 20.J surroiuulcd and looked up to by those who wished to make arms their road to distin.tioji. The Karl of Sussex, more- over, was of more ancient and honoural>le descent than his rival, unitin.!? in his person the representation of tlic Fit/.W alters,, as well as of the RatclitTcs; while the scutcheon of Leicester was stained by the deRradaiion of his ^^rand- lather, the oppressive minis'cr of Hcnrv VII, and scarce improved by that of his father, the unhappy Dudley, Duke of Northumberland, executed on Tower-Hill. August 2: '553. But in person, features, and address, weapons so tormidable in the court of a female sovereign. Leicester had advantages more than sufficient to counterbalance the military services, high blood, and frank bearin- of the Karl of Sussex; and he bore in the eye of the court and kingdom the higher share in Klizabcth's favour, though (for such was her uniform policy) by no means so decidedly express- ed as to warrant him against the final preponderance of his rival's pretensions. The illness of Sussex therefore happened so opportunely for Leicester, as to give rise to strange surmises among the public; while the followers of the one Earl were filled with the deepest apprehensions, and those of the other with the highest hopes of its probable issue. MeanwhiIe,-for in that old time men never forgot the probability that the matter might be determined by length of sword, -the retainers of each noble flocked around their patron, appeared well armed in the vicinity of the '^ourt Itself, and disturbed the ear of the .sovereign bv their frequent and alarming debates, held even within the pre- cincts of her palace. Say's Court, was filled with the retainers of the Earl of Susse.x, and of th- gentlemen who came to attend their patron m his illness. Arms were in every hand, and a deep gloom on every countenance, as if they had apprehende.l a:, unmediate and violent assault from the opposite faction I ■ tl B i i ill 204 ELIZABETH I m ' !i In the hall were bvo gentlemen in waiting. There was a remarkable contrast in their dress, appearance, and manners. The attire of the elder gentleman, a person as it seemed °f 9"^^!''*^ and in the prime of life, was very plain and soldierhke, his stature low, his limbs stout, his bearing ungraceful, and his features of that kind which express sound common sense, without a grain of vivacity or imagina- tion. The younger, who seemed about twenty, or upwards, was clad in the gayest habit used by persons of quality at the period, wearing a crimson velvet cloak richly ornamen- ted with lace and embroidery, with a bonnet of the same, encircled wit^ a gold chain turned three times round it, and secured by a medal. His hair was combed upwards, and made to stand as it were on end; and in his ears he wore a pair of silver earrings, having each a pearl of con- siderable size. The countenance of this youth, besides being regularly handsome and accompanied by a fine person, was animated and striking in a degree that seemed to speak at once the firmness of a decided and the fire of an enterprising character, the power of reflection, and the promptitude of determination. Both these gentlemen reclined nearly in the same posture on benches near each other; but each seeming engaged in his own meditations, looked straight upon the wall which was opposite to them, without speaking to his companion The looks of the elder were of that sort which convinced the beholder, that, in looking on the wall, he saw no more than the side of an old hall hung around with cloaks, antlers, bucklers, old pieces of armour, partisans, and the similar articles which were usually the furniture of such a place. The look of the younger gallant had in it something ima- ginative; he was sunk in reverie, and it seemed as if the empty space of air betwixt him and the wall were the stage of a theatre on which his fancy was nuisiering his o\vn HOW SIR WALTER RALEIGH USED HIS CLOAK .05 dmmatis pcrsome, and treating him with sights far different from those which his awakened and earthly vision could have offered. The Earl's attendants ushered in a gentleman and both started from their musing, and bade him welcome- the younger m particular, with great appearance of animation and cordiality. "Thou art welcome, Tressilian, " said the youth; "thy philosophy sto^ thee from us when this household had objects of amb.tion to offer-it is an honest philosophy rsL^ed'"" '" " "''" '"" ^'^ ^"'^^ ^-"-- '« ''Is my lord, then, so gro tly indisposed r " said Tressilian hil-J""'-^"!!! ^' '"'*" '"'•' ^«endants, then, as he hath about h.m said the younger gallant. " The n.an who raises the w^hTr'' hT^' Y '" " ^""^'^^^•^'^ for the mischief which the nend does, for all that " "And is this all of you, my mates." enquired Tressilian, that are about my lord in his utmost straits*" Af^' b^' "°' " '7^''"^ *''" ^^^^' gentleman, "there are Tracy Markham, and several more; but we keep watch here by i: ar;;^"' ^^-^^ ''' ^^'^^^ -^ - ^'-P-"« in thl "And some, " said the young man. "are gone down to the dock yonder at Deptford, to look out such a hulk as the v Tn Ta T '^' ^'"'''",? '''''' '^°^^" fortunlVani tl Uier -f ; '' ' ^'°^' '' ^'^^^^ ^^'^^ '^'^^-^ hurried him i'> Her, ,f opportun.ty suits, and then sail for the Indies ^v.th heavy hearts and light purses." '' 206 p:lizabeth "It may be," said Tressiliun, "that I will embrace the same purpose, so soon as I have settled some business at court." "Thou business at court!" they both exclaimed at once ; "and thou make the Indian voyage!" "Why, Tressilian, " said the younger man, "art thou not wedded, and beyond these flaws of fortune that drive folks out to sea when their bark bears fairest for the haven?— What has become of the lovely Indamira that was to match my Amoret for truth and beauty?" "Speak not of her!" said Tressilian, averting his face. "Ay, stands it so with you?" said the youth, taking his hand very affectionately; "then, fear not I will again touch the green wound -But it is strange as well as sad news. Are none of our fair and merry fellowship to escape ship- wreck of fortune and happiness in this sudden tempest? I had hoped thou wert in harbour, at least, my dear Edmund. -But truly says another dear friend of thy name, 'What man that sees the ever whirling wheel (Jf Chance, the which all mortal things doth sway, Biit that thereby doth find and plainly feel, How Mutability in them doth play Her cruel sports to many men's decay.'" 11 ■■.'IH The elder gentleman had risen from his bench, and was pacing the hall with some impatience, while the youth, with much earnestness and feeling, recited the lines. When he had done, the other wrapped himself in his cloak, and again stretched himself down, saying, " I marvel, Tressilian, you will feed the lad in this silly humour. If there were aught to draw a judgment upon a virtuous and honourable household like my lords, renounce me if I think not it were this piping, whining, childish trick of poetry, that HOWSIRUALTERRAI.KIGHUSKDHIS CI.OAK .07 came among us with Master Walter Wittypate here and his comrades, twisting into all manner of uncouth and mcomprehensible forms of speech, the honest plain English phr^e which God gave us to express our meaning withal." Blount believes," said his comrade, laughing, "the devil wood Eve m rhyme, and that the mystic meaning of the J ree of Knowledge refers solely to the art of clashing rhymes and meting out hexameters." At this moment the Earls chamberlain entered, and informed 1 ressilian that his lord required to speak with him. He found Lord Sussex dressed, but unbraced and lying on his couch and was shocked at the alteration disease had made m his person. The Earl received him with the most friendly cordiality. Tressilian turning his discourse on the Earls own health, discovered, to his surprise, that he symptoms of his disorder corresponded minutely with those which haH been predicted concerning it. He hesitated not, therefore to communicate to Sussex the pretensions ""uTu ) .""^ '""^ ^"^''^ '^' "P ^° cure the disorder under which he laboured and whom he had brought with him. I he Earl hstened with incredulous attention until the name of Demetnus was mentioned, and then suddenly called to h.s secretary to bring him a certain casket which contain- ed papers of importance. "Take out thence." he said, the declaration of the rascal cook whom we had unde.^ exammation, and look heedfully if the name of Demetrius be not there mentioned." " W ''TT T'"^ '° '^' P''^^-^''^^^ '' °"^^. ^nd read, And said declarant, being examined, saith. That he remembers having made the sauce to the saii sturgeon II fn" r'"' ''"'"'■ ^'^ ''''' "^^'^ Lord was taken ;!l;rem nameir-' ""' ^"'"''"" ''' ^^"^''"^"'^ "Pass over his trash." said the Earl, "and sec whether he J * (i ii 1 :] 1 r > ; ^ ill . -3 a 1 p i I 1 » 1 i i ! i \ 1 2o8 elizabb:th had not been supplied with his materials by a herbalist called Demetrius." "It is even so," answered the secretary. "And he adds he has not since seen the said Demetrius." "This accords with thy fellow's story, Tressilian," said the Earl; "call him hither." On being summoned to the Earl's presence, Wayland Smith told his tale with firmness and consistency. "It may be," said the Earl, "thou art sent by those who have begun this work, to end it for them, but bethink, if I miscarry under thy medicine, it may go hard with thee." "That were severe measure," said Wayland, "since the issue of medicine, and the end of life, are in God's dis- posal. But I will stand the risk. I have not lived so long under ground, to be afraid of a grave." "Nay, if thou be'st so confident," said the Earl of Sussex, "I will take the risk too, for the learned can do nothing for me. Tell me how this medicine is to be taken." "That will I do presendy," said Wayland; "but allow me to condition that, since I incur all the risk of this treat- ment, no other physician shall be permitted to interfere with it." "That is but fair," replied tlic Earl; "and now prepare your drug." While Wayland obeyed the Earl's commands, his ser- vants, by the artist's direction, undressed their master, and placed him in bed. "I warn you," he said, "that the first operation of this medicine will be to produce a heavy sleep, during which time the chamber must be kept undisturbed, as the conse- quences may otherwise be fatal. I myself will watch by the Earl, with any of the gentlemen of his chamber." "Let all leave the room, save Stanley and this good fellow," said the Earl. UUW SIR WALTER RAT-EIGH USKO HIS CI.OAK :oQ "I too am deeply "And saving me also," said Tressilian. interested in the effects of this potion.' "Be it so, good friend," said the Earl; "and now for our experiment; but first call my secretary and chamherlain " "Bear witness," he continued, when these officers arrived "bear witness for me, gentlemen, that our honourable friend Tressihan is in no way responsible for the effects which this medicine may produce upon me, the taking it bcin- my own free action and choice, in regard I believe it to be a remedy which God has furnished me by unexpected means, to recover me of my present malady. Commend me to my noble and princely Mistress ; and say that I live and die her true servant, and wish to all about h'-r throne the same singleness of heart and will to serve her, ,., ' more ability to do so than hath been assigned to poor Thomas Ratcliffe." He then folded his hands, and seemed for a second or two absorbed in mental devotion, then took the potion in his hand, and, pausing, regarded Wayland with a look that seemed designed to penetrate his very soul, but which caused no anxiety or hesitation in the countenance or manner of the artist. "Here is nothing to be feared," said Sussex to Tressilian- and swallowed the medicine without farther hesitat.on. ' "I am now to pray your lordship," said Wayland "to dispose yourself to rest as commodiously as you can; and of you, gentlemen, to remain as still and mute as if you waited at your mothers death-bed." The chamberlain and secretary then withdrew, givin^ orders that all doors should be bolted, and all noise in the house strictly prohibited. Several gentlemen were voluntary watchers in the hall, but none remained in the chamber of the sick Earl, save his groom of the rhamber the artist, and Tressilian. AVayland Smith's predictions ■ri !i I M' 1 ^Ii -li .;;! ^^11 310 ELIZABETH were speedily accomplished, and a sleep fell upon the Earl, so deep and sound, that they who watdied his bed- side began to fear that, in his weakened state, he might pass away without awakening from his lethargy. Wayland Smith himself appeared anxious, and felt the temples of tlie Earl slightly, from time to time, attending particularly to the state of his respiration, which was full and deep, but at the same time easy and uninterrupted. There is no period at which men look worse in the eyes of each other, or feel more uncomfortable, than when the first dawn of daylight finds them watchers. Even a beauty of the first order, after the vigils of a ball are interrupted by the dawn, would do wisely to withdraw herself from the gaze of her fondest and most partial admirers. Such was the pale, inauspicious, and ungrateful h'ght, which began to beam upon those who kept watch all night in the hall at Say's Court, and which mingled its col J, pale, blue diffusion with the red, yellow, and smoky beams of expir- ing lamps and torches. The young gallant, whom we just noticed, had left the room for a few minutes, to learn the cause of a knocking at the outward gate, and on his return, was so struck with the forlorn and ghastly aspects of his companions of the watch, that he exclaimed, " Pitv of my heart, my masters, how like owls you look ! methinks, when the sun rises, I shall see you flutter off with your eyes dazzled, to stick yourselves into the next ivy-tod or ruined steeple." "Hold thy peace, thou gibing fool," said Blount; "hold thy peace. Is this a time for jeering, when the manhood of England is perchance dying within a wall's breadth of thee?" "There thou liest," replied the gallant. " How, lie ! " exclaimed Blount, starting up, " lie : and to me ? " "Why, so thou didst, thou peevish fool," answered the ■Hi HOW SIR WAITER RALKIGH USED HIS CLOAK. 2, , youth; "tliou didst lie on that bench even now, didst thou not? But art thou not a Iiasty coxcomb, to pick up a wry word so wrathfully: Nevertheless, loving' and honouring my lord as truly as thou, or any one. I do sav, that should Heaven fake him from us, all England's manhood dies not wUh him. " "Ay," leplied Blount, "a good portion will survive with thee, doubtless." "And a good portion with thyself, Blount, and with stout Markham here, and Tracy, and all of us. But I am he that will best employ the talent Heaven has given to us all " "As how I prithee:" said Blount^ "tell us your mystery of multiplymg." ^ "VVhy sirs," answered the youth, "ye are like goodly land, which bears no crop because it is not quickened by manure; but I have that rising spirit in me, which will make my poor faculties labour to keep pace with it. My ambition will keep my brain at work, I warrant thee." I pray to God it does not drive thee mad," said Blount: lor my part, if we lose our noble lord, I bid adieu to the court and to the camp both. I have five hundred foul acres m Norfolk, and thither will I, and change the court pantoufle for the country hobnail." "O base transmutation!" exclaimed his antagonist : "thou hast already got the true rustic slouch-thy shoulders stoop ll't' 1 r rf '"'? "' '^' ''"*^ °^ '^^ P^°"Sh' ^"d thou' hast a kind of earthy smell about thee, instead of bein- perfumed with essence, as a gallant and courtier should" mirrr ' ', " ^"'^ ''°^"" °"^ ^° ^°" thyself on a hay mow Thy only excuse will be to swear by thy hilts that the farmer had a fair daughter." ^^ "I pray thee, Walter," said another of the company cease thy raillery, which suits neither time nor place, and icil us who was at the gate just now." I I M i :i 312 ELIZAnKTII "Doctor Masters, i)hysician to her Grace in ordinan-, sent by her especial orders to entjuire after the Earl's health," answered Walter. "Ha! what!" exclaimed Tracy, "that was no slight mark of favour; if the Karl can but come through, he will match with Leicester yet. Is Masters with my lord at present? ' "Nay," replied Walter, "he is half way back to (Greenwich by this time, and in high dudgeon." "Thou didst not refuse him admittance?" exclaimed Tracy. "Thou wert not, surely, so mad?" ejaculated Blount. " I refused him admittance as flatly, Blount, as you would refuse a penny to a blind beggar; as obstinately, Tracy, as thou didst ever deny access to a dun." "Why, in the fiend's name, didst thou trust him to go to the gate?" said Blount to 'I'racy. "It suited his years better than mine," answered Tracy; "but he has undone us all now thoroughly. My lord may live or die, he will never have a look of favour from her Majesty again." "Nor the means of making fortunes for his followers," said the young gallant, smiling contemptuously;— "There lies the sore point that will brook no handling. My good sirs, I sounded my lamentations over my lord somewhat less loudly than some of you; but when the point convs of doing him ser\ice, I will yield to none of you. Had this learned leech entered, thinkst thou not there had been such a coil betwixt him and Tressilian's mediciner, that not the sleeper only, but the very Jead might have awakened. I know what larum belongs to the discord of doctors." " And who is to take the blame of opposing the Queen's orders?" said Tracy: " for, undeniably. Doctor Masters came with her Grace's positive commands to cure the Earl." HOWSIR«A,,TKRRA,,K,C,HLSK„„,sc,,CUK ,„ ui"'" "'" '""^ •'= "•"'"^' »•'■" ''-' -he blame," said no3:;:s;.t;rn^;:^-~ra;i r r^T'' and ambilion, Devonshire will see .hi 'k '"* "" younger brother, fi, ,o .i. lo a L h„,rd c"aV .'"" about wi,h ,he ehaplain, look that .h ho "d 'be fed : ""No! sT"::Lir "'""" »^- -^ .o::thu'„.s. """ .and r ■d.r'ietz^^ r^-;' :r™=d""T t,'= "'• sea halh pathless waves The nVh iv >, . "'"'= *' dreamed of, and Britain Co L: Utea,::?v"e V'"" on the quest of them.-Adieu for a .„,! ™""'° .0 .0 walk i„ the court .Jl'^^^ I' ;„Zer"''- ' -r::f:Lr:?i^i----'-^-i„,.. door against Masters, he haTdone a dari:, a„°d'f "' »ake the SevenSI^ 'T "*■ ""'' Masters would Slept not by the reltrord "'7' '"" """■^'« "-^V Mor„i..g'wI; ;i 'Id^ate^re "":;"'r'' r • and over.watched ., T Iress.han, fatigued to report whit hnr-{ r. j j *^' "'^ followers, .^e 4ch:stt "ztZL^' "'""■ """ ■»-'■'- \\ lien the message of the nnof^,-, ... c ui me ^^ueen was communicated to R i i I 2l4 KM/.ABETH tlic Karl of Sussex, he at first smiled at the repulse whirh the physician had received from his zealous young fol- lower, but instantly recollecting himself, he commandc"""■ ""J Iiy my hononr "T. ,w^ fV T"*" '"^ "'' "»"l'le-and >'.e boa., °r «;»>' ,o1^: ■ "r"""'^ °"' '""" '"' ""O "f and most hanr1«n^o >eomen of the guard, the tallest .uardTli rt^hurb^^^^^^^^^ ''"''"'' ^°"'^ P^°^"-' n^ate to the river side .nH n ''"'''"'' '"'°'" ^'^^ P^'^*^^" early "'"^ '^''"^''' '-»'"'""«'' the dav .as yet so "% my faith, this bodes us no good." said Jilount; "it I Hi I, j ;; 2i6 IMZAUtTH must be some perilous cause puts her Grace in motion thus untimeously. Hy my counsel, we were best put back again and toll the Karl what we have seen." "I'ell the Karl what we have seen!" said Walter ;" why, what have we seen but a boat, and men with scarlet jer- kins, and halberds in their hands? I-et us do his errand, again, and tell him what the Queen says in reply." So sayinjr, he caused the boat to be pulled towards a landing-place at some distance from the principal one. which it would not, at that moment, have been thought respectful to approach, and jumped on shore, followed, though with reluctance, by his cautious and timid compan- ions. As they approached the gate of the palace, one ol" the sergeant-porters told them they could not at present enter, as her Majesty was in the act of coming forth. 'I'lic gentlemen used the name of the Karl of Sussex; but it proved no charm to subdue the officer, who alleged in reply, that it was as much as his post was worth, to diso bey in the least tittle the commands which he had received. "Nay, I told you as much before," said Blount; "do, I pray you, my dear Walter, let us take boat and return." "Not till I see the Queen come forth," returned the youtli, composedly. "Thou art mad, stark mad, by the mass!" answered Blount. " And thou," said Walter, " art turned coward of the sudden. I have seen thee face half a score of shag-headed Irish kernes to thy own share of them, and now thou wouldst blink and go back to shun the frown of a fair lady ! ' At this moment the gates opened, and ushers began to issue forth in array, proceeded and flanked by the band of Gentlemen Pensioners. After this, amid a crowd of lords and ladies, yet so disposed around her that she could see and be seen on all sides, came Elizabeth her- MOWSIR WAI/I Kk RALKfr.H ITSKI) HIS t.IO AK „■. self, then in the prime of womanhood, and in the full Klow of what in a sovereign was called bcautv, and wh.. wou.d in the lowest rank of life have been truly judged , noble figure, joined to a striking and rommandint; phvsi.,.. nomy. She leant on the arn. of Lord Hunsdon, whosv relation to her by her mother's side often procured him such distmguished marks of Kli/ubeth s intimacy The young cavalier we have so often mentioned had probably never yet approached so near the person of his •sovereign, and he pressed forward as far ,r the line of warders permitted, in order to avail himself .., the present opportunity. His companion, on the contrarv cur >« h s imprudence, kept pulling him backwards, tH: W.ltei hook him oft impatiently, and letting his rich cloak dnn care- lessly from one shoulder; a natural action, whu :. sc • i however, to display to the best advantage his welij.r.por' tioned person. Unbonneting at the same time, he lived h.s eager gaze on the Queen's approach, with a mixture o respectful curiosity, and modest yet ardent admiration which suited so well with his fine features, that the warders' struck with h.s rich attire and noble countenance, suffered' li>m to approach the ground over which the Queen was to pass somewhat closer than was permitted to ordinary- spectators. 1 hus the adventurous youth stood full in Fli u'hicli !h'H'"'\r "''"■ '"^'^'^'•■^"* ^° '^' admiration uhich she deserA-edly excited among her subjects, or to the Iwt.^ "fhercoiu-tiers. Accordingly, she fixed her keen h stooS" 1 '"T'r ^'^ '^^P'-"^^-^^^ ^'- P'-^' -here seemlT ; T ' ^■'"''^ '" '''^''^ ^"'"P^^^ ^' his boldness Tc^n/t ' """""^'^d ^^'^h resentment, while a triflin, adent happened which attracted her attention towards m where the young gentleman stood, a small quantitv of f ii i ! '1 1 i i i i ■ I ; ■ 1 t i i . 1 2l8 EITZARETII mud interrupted tlic Queen's passa-c. As she hesitated to pass c.n, the gallant, throwing his cloak from his shoulders, laid it .m the miry spot, so as to ensure her stepping over it drysh.^d. Kli/.aheth looked at the young man, who ac- companied this act of devoted courtesy with a profound reverence, and a blush that overspread his whole counten- ance. The Queen was confused, and blushed in her turn, nodded her head, hastily passed on, and embarked in her barge without saying a word. " Come along, Sir Coxcoml)," said Blount; "your gay cloak will need the brush to-day, 1 wot. Nay, if you had meant to make a foot-cloth of your mantle, better have kept Tracy's old drab-dc-bure, which despises all colours." " This cloak," said the youth, taking it up and folding it, "shall never be brushed while in my possession." " And that will not be long, if you learn not a little more economy- we shall have you in aietfo soon, as the Span- iard says." Their discourse was here interrupted by one of the Band of Pensioners. "I was sent," said he, after looking at thci. .tentively, "to a ge.itleman who hath no cloak, or a muddy one— You, sir, I think," addressing the younger cavalier, "are the man-, you will please to follow me." "He is in attendance on me," said Blount •, "on me,tlie noble Earl of SuL;se.\'s master of horse." "I have nothing to say to that," answered the messenger: "my orders are direcdy from her Majesty, and concern thi.. gentleman only." So saying, he walked .avay, followed by Walter, leaving: the others behind, mount's eyes almost starting from )n< head with the excess of his astonishment. At length lio gave vent to it in an exclamation-" Who the good jcre would have thought this!" And shaking his head with a ^^^f^^ ■m THE QUEEN HASTILY PASSED ON." Fact p. iiS I- J I !i| HOW SIR WALTER RALEICH USKl) HIS C I.OAK .., derable respect; a circumstance Jhich to 1 " '""''• situation, .ay be considered as ana^rorno" 'n consequenee. He ushered him into one of th! y " ' which lay ready to attend the Q^eeJ^s bar! K f""' already proceeding up the river ^^h ?h. h "^ "'^' flood tide, of which, fn the c;::;; t'e r dlJcTnf Blo'" had complained to his associates. ' '°""* The two rowers used their mrs v„uu l .he signal of ,he Ga„Uen,a„ p"!"' ^lu^r'"'"" "' brought their little .kiff mi,rZ't^''^7u"7'°°" boa,, where she t,a, beneath a„ ^«JTalt/t''?'' or three iadie. and the nobles of hf; hoSd '' I^ looked more than once at th- wher-v l„ ' "f"'"- S"« order apparently, made a mVn f^, »j ^ vueen s *ngside, and th'^ Jn^ LTva " e rtdtZr "^ oivn skiff into the Queen's bar.e J.ful '° ' ^P f™" bi» graceful agility atlhrf^rTr'tole'h'"'"™"' "■'''' brought aft to the 0„ J„'! ''°'"' ""'' "^'» ^ame'thne ZX^^Z rltr^Th "' T" "' '"' .he ga.e of M^a^ no, t S^' gri fl"' Hrh^T possession was minded i-i,h .™k ' ''" ^''"^ xs s;s ~ 3 !H= 220 KLIZAUFTH i r 1 1 ■ m\ "God's pity! that was well said, my lord," said the Queen, turning to a grave person who sate by her, and answered with a grave inclination of the head, and something of a mumbled assent. " Well, yoimg man, your gallantry shall not go unrewarded. Go to tlie wardrobe keeper, and he shall have orders to supply the suit, which you have cast away in our service. Thou shah have a suit, and that of the newest cut, I promise thee, on the word of a princess." " May it please your Grace," said Walter, hesitating, " it is not for so humble a servant of your Majesty to measure out your bounties; but if it became me to choose — " "Thou wouldst have gold, I warrant me," said the Queen, interrupting him; "fie, young man! I take shame to say that, m our capital, such and so various are the means of thriftless folly, that to give gold to youth is giving fuel to fire, and furnishing them with the means of self-destruction. If I live and reign, these means of unchristian excess shall be abridged. Yet thou mayst be poor," she added, "or thv parents may be— It shall be gold, if thou wilt, but thou shalt answer to me for the use on't." Walter waited patiently until the Queen had done, and then modestly assured her that gold was still less in his wish than the raiment her majesty had before offered, " How, boy 1 " said the Queen, " neither gold nor garment ? What is it thou wouldst have of me, then?" " Only permission, madam— if it is not asking too higli an honour— permission to wear the cloak which did you this trifling service." "Permission to wear thine own cloak, thou silly boyl " said the Queen. "It is no longer mine," said Walter; "when your Majesty s foot touched it, it became a fit mantle for a prince, but far too rich a one for its former owner." The Queen again blushed; and endeavoured to cover, I A now SIR UALTER RALKIGH USKD HIS CI.OAK .., by la-i^hinj,. a slight dc.;,rcc of not unpl.asin, surprise and *'Huu.l ym, ever ti.e like. „,y lor.Is? The vouti.s Lead .s turned wuh rcadm, n.nances-l nu.st knou son.ethin " I>.m that I may sx^nd hin. safe to his friends.-Uhat art thou '■ - A gentleman of tlie household of the Karl of Susse. so please your Grace, sent hither with h.s master of horse upon a message to your Majesty." In a moment the gracious expression which Klizaboth's iace had h.therto maintained, gave way to an express , of haughtmess and severity. prei>sif>n "My Lord of Sussex." she said, "has taught us how to regard h,s messages, by the ^.alue he places upon oul Ac sent but tlm morning the physician in ordinlry of o ^" chamber and that at no usual time, understanding 1 is lord sh.ps ,Ilness to be more dangerous than we h^d before sk lied m this holy and most useful science than Doctor Mas ers, and he came from Us to our subject. Nevertheless he found the gate of Say's Court defended by men wUl ct. Ivenns as ,f it had been on the P.orders of Scotland not m the v.cinity of our court; and when he demanded adm, tance m our name, it was stubborn:,, refused, lor th.s shght of a kmdness, which had but too much of con descens,on m it. we will receive, at present at least no nort nV ^T T"' *" ^"^^'^'^^^ '« '^^ been the p" port of my [.ord of Sussex's messa-^e " Th,s was uttered in a tone, and" with a gesture which made Lord Sussex's friends who were within h;aring U .' 'o • J rh ; rrt ''^^ ^'^^ "^- '—.trembled J.'neens passion gave him an opportunity he replied •- ^o please your most gracious Majesty, 1 was charged with no apologv from the Karl of Susse.x." !'* .1 il il )> ' I ii 223 ELIZABETH "With what were you then charged, sir?" said the Queen, with the impetuosity which, amid nobler qualities, strongly marked her character; "was it with a justification?— or, God's death! with a defiance?" " Madam," said the young man, "my Lord of Sussex knew the offence approached towards treason, and could think of nothing save of securing the offeuder, and placing him in your Majest\'s hands, at your mercy. The noble Earl was fast asleep when your most gracious message reached him, a potion having been administered to that purpose by his physician : and his Lordship knew not of the un- gracious repulse your Majesty's royal and most comfortable message had received, until after he awoke this morning." "And which of his domestics, then, in the name of Heaven, presumed to reject my message, without even admitting my own physician to the presence of him whom I sent him to attend?" said the Queen, much surprised. "The offender, madam, is before you," replied Walter, bowing very low, "the full and sole blame is mine; and my lord has most justly sent me to abye the consequences ot a fault, of which he is as innocent as a sleeping man's dreams can be of a waking man's actions." "What! was it thou?— thou thyself, that repelled my messenger and in" physician from Say's Court? " said the Queen, "V/liat could occasion such boldness in one who seems devoted— that is, whose exterior bearing shows devotion -to his Sovereign?" "Madam," said the youth,— who, notwithstanding an assu- med appearance of severity, thought that he saw something in the Queen's face that resembled not implacability,— "we say in our country, that the physician is for the time the liege sovereign of his patient. Now, my noble master was then under dominion of a leerh, by whose advice he hath greatly profited, who had issued his commands that his HO,VS,R UALTKR KA,,KmH l-SK,, „,.s c ,.OAK --v> "I know not, madam, but !„• ,he f,« .i. , srr/rorar-rr-?-"^"-s ;•«>; -y word, I am .ladt y e'rin ': '''"'^"'•'' '>old to deny the access of n, iV "'^^ '*'^'^ o^er there is safety? ' '^' '" '^'^ '""'^''^"de of counsel "Ay, madam," said Walter "h.if f u i men say that the sif^f.- ? '''■'-' ^'^'^'"'^ 'earned not forL plticnt' ^ ''''''' ^' '^ ^'^^ ''- Physicians, •He^uZ,t:;^h^:^r''-r''ed.ehome,"^^^^ c^ome quite at a c^flHo.v ' '^''" ^^^^"'""^ ^^^^ ""' Hath the lad givefr^sTlT' '""'•'"^ '"^^ of Lincoln? "The wordlX" !' . '"''.•"P''^'^''"" ^^he text?" or Lincoln, "^f ^' ^a^ STtrsIatd '.^"^ ''' ""^''^^ - at hastily, the Hebre. word S_ > ' " "''' ""' ^°'"*^- My lord," said the n..^^« • » - had ror,o«e„ o*'.^ere;.irrr'''"' "':^ ^"^■' » hal IS thy name and birth ? •■ ' '"""S*""". ■■Halei,hr."i:'^LXr"r ° '"""'^ of Devonshire.' "I'«'= «e not heard ^r! » ">omenf s reeollection ; "J have been^ . r ^ ' '*" "^ '" ^land ? " " ^o fortunate as to do some serviee there, »24 KI.IZAIJKTH m\' madam," replied Raleigh, " scarce, however, of conse(|uence sufficient lo reach your Grace's ears." "They hear farther than you think of," said the Queen, graciously, "and have heard of a youth who defended a ford in Siiannon against a whole band of wild Irish rebels, until the stream ran purple with their blood and his own." "Some blood I may have lost," said the youth, looking down, "but it was where my best is due; and that is in your Majesty's service." The Queen paused, and then said hastily, "You arc very young to have fought so well, and to speak so well, liut you must not escape your penance for turning back Masters— the poor man hath caught cold on the river; for our order reathed him when he was just returning from certain visits in London, and he held it matter of loyalty and conscience instantly to set forth again. So hark ye, Master Raleigh, see thou fail not to wear thy muddy cloak, in token of penitence, till our pleasure be farther known. And here," she added, giving him a jewel of gold, in the form of a chess-man, "I give thee this to wear at the collar." Raleigh, to whom nature had taught intuitively, as it were, those courtly arts which many scarce acquire from long experience, knelt, and, as he took from her hand the jewel, kissed the fingers which gave it. He knew, perhaps, better than almost any of the courtiers who surrounded her, how to mingle the devotion claimed by the Queen, with 'the gallantry due to her personal beauty-and in this, his first attempt to unite them, he succeeded so well as at once to gratify Elizabeth's personal vanity, and her love of power. His master, the Karl of Sussex, had the full advantacro of the satislaction which Raleigh liad afforded Elizabctli tni their first interview. I ! Jil hou-.sirwai;ikkralki(;hl.ski)iii.sci.c>ak ..5 "My lords and ladies," .said the Queen, looking around to the refnue by whom she was attended, "LtS smce we are upon the river, it were well to renoun c " r' resent purpose of going to the city, and surpri c th |)oor Karl of Sussex with a visit H.. ;« ;n i - •loubtless under the fear of Zl H , ' "i '"""'"" he hati, l.P.n I . displeasure, from which he luth been honestly .leared by the frank avowal of h.ma^.ertbc^ W,., think ye r were it not an ^^ ! rhant> to ,,,ve h>m such consolation as the thanks of a < )ueen, much bound to hi„. for his loval service may perchance best minister'" ' ' ^ . It may be readily supposen r^ r oir " '°'" ^'^ "^"^"'-'''-^ -^-^'^^^^^^^ lo asK the Queens permission to go in the skiff ind -,„ « the royal visit to his masterf in.en!:.:K::;.^J ^ nee "' H '"''T '"'-^^' ^''''' '^^^J"^--' »° h,: health: }T ^^^''^^^-h^ ^'^'^^ l^een long in a languishing state so «:' a : I "^"^ '"""' '^ '°° PreLptu-ous in ^vhether she was moved by a recurrence of the feelin<^ of ITZ ^ '-' 'r '''''''' '"'^ ''' 'y - -^^h Kalei:S share v"to """/•'"' ''^ ''^^^°"' ^^^ ^^--^ nf t 7^' '""'^"■'^ '"' ^°""«el till it was required iiij I :| tl 1 L 326 KLIZABETH The royal barge soon stopped at Deptford, and, amid the loud shouts of the populace, which her presence never failed to excite, the Queen, with a canopy borne over her head, walked, accompanied by her retinue, towards Say's Court, where the distant acclamations of the people gave the first notice of her arrival. Sussex, who was in the act of advising with Tressilian how he should make up the supposed breach in .e Queen's favour, was infinitely surprised at learning her immediate approach— not that the Queen's custom of visiting her more distinguished nobility, whether in health or sickness, could be unknown to him; but the suddenness of the communication left no time for those preparations with which he well knew Elizabeth lovecl to be greeted, and the rudeness and confusion of his mili- tary household, much increased by his late illness, rendered him altogether unprepared for her reception. Cursing internally the chance which thus brought her gracious visitation on him unaware, he hastened d wn with Tressilian, while hastily casting around him a loose robe of sables, and adjusting his person in the best manner he could to meet the eye of his Sovereign. The Earl's utmost despatch only enabled him to meet the Queen as she entered the great hall, and he at once perceived there was a cloud on her brow. Her jealous eye had noticed the martial array of armed gentlemen and retainers with which the mansion-house was filled, and her first words e.xpressed her disapprobation— "Is this ;i royal garrison, my Lord of Sussex, that it holds so many pikes and calivers? or have we by accident overshot Says Court, and landed at our Tower of London?" Lord Sussex hastened to ofter some apology. "It need not," she said. "My Lord, we intend speedilv to take up a certain quarrel between your lordship ami another great lord of our household, and at the same lime anly followers, as if in thlJTu' ^""^ ^^'^^" ^^''^ "'«. nay. in the ^ery te" l. "? "^"' °'"°"^'^'^''"-'- Preparing to wage cTX. Th?" "t''*^"^^' ^°" ^^^^• to see you so wdl recove ed tt ' T'' ''' ''' '''^ assistance of the learned nh!' -^ ?' '^°"«'' ^^''hout the Urge no excuse-rinolr'"- "^ we have ccrected for ^he u r ""''"'' '"^^ °"'' -"^ By the way, my lord 1 m '"'''^ '"'P' ^'"""^ Raleigh.- is about him which mt^^ T^T «^^"- ^^'"ething there « like to be amongst Zr V r'""" ""''"^^^ ^^an he To this proposaf Sussex th' "" '"' '°"°"^"-" how the Queen came omVet rrV"'^"^^"^'"^ press his acquiescence He 1 "^ °"'^ '^^^ ^"^ ^^■ till refreshment cou"d be o J. ^ T'''^'"^ ^'' ^« ^«"»*in prevail. And, after a few tv'"' '" ^'"'^ ''^ *=°"'d "«* -nd more commonplace oh '""'"'' °' ^ '""^h '^"'^er expected from a sten ,'/ T?^' '^'^^ "''^'>» ^ave been visit, the Queen took her". "''r""''^"^P^-nal brought confusion thkher 1 ''' u[ ^'''' ^'°"^' having and apprehension behind ' ""' '''' ""' '^^^^"^ ^-^^^ •^PP-cS meSnT. „Te r^ -'^ -^^^^-^"^ ^^ ^heir Kli^abeth herself was no^ ,? ' P'^'^"*^^' ^"^ even -i.ht chancelrom ,h:\:S:T^'^"^'""°^^^''^^^ sP'rits, each backed hv\ °^ '^° ^"<=h fiery followers, and dividing^ tw "them ' T^^^" '^^^ °' secret, the hopes and wlhl r ' '*'^'" °P^"'y °'- i" •-"cl of Gentlemen ^1^; "'°'' °^ ^^'^ *=°"'^- The -inforcement oT^ " Tme" 7"/'' ""^^'^ --«. and a ^-n the Thames from' iTdon V "7"' '''' ^-•^"' ---.-ct,yprohib;;ti^:^x;::r^:::^ Miaocomr resolution test chart (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) |M ^^ turn ^ APPLIED IfVHGE 1653 Eost Main Street Rochester, New York 14609 USA (716) ♦82 - 0300 - Phone (716) 288- 5989 -Fox 228 ELIZABETH to approach the Palace with retainers or followers, armed with shot, or with long weapons; and it was even whispered that the High Sheriff of Kent had secret instructions to have a part of the array of the county ready on the short- est notice. The eventful hour, thus anxiously prepared for on all sides, at length approached, and, each followed by his long and glittering train of friends and foUowe*^, the rival Earls entered the Palace-yard of Greenwich at noon precisely. As if by previous arrangement, or perhaps by intimation that such was the Queen's pleasure, Sussex and his retinue came to the Palace from Deptford by water, while Leicester arrived by land ; and thus they entered the court-yard from opposite sidee. This trifling circumstance gave Leicester a certain ascendency in the opinion of the vulgar, the appear- ance of his cavalcade of mounted followers showing more numerous and more imposing than those of Sussex's party, who were necessarily upon foot. No show or sign of greeting passed between the Earls, though each looked full at the other, both expecting perhaps an exchange of courtesies, which neither was willing to commence. Almost in the minute of their arrival the castle-bell tolled, the gates of the Palace were opened, and the Earls entered, each numerously attended by such gentlemen of their train, whose rank gave them that privilege. The yeomen and inferior attendants remained in the court-yard, where the opposite parties eyed each other with looks of eager hatred and scorn, as if waiting with impatience for some cause of tumult, or some apology for mutual aggression But they were restrained by the strict commands of their leaders, and overawed, perhaps, by the presence of an armed guard of unusual strength. In the meanwhile, the more distinguished persons of each train followed their patrons into the lofty halls and ante- chambers of tlie royal Palace^ flowing on in the same cur- hows«waltkrrale,ghuskd™scloak „, themselves, as it were ,n«f.„ » ? The parties arranged of the loft; apartmLt Ind ^i' °" ^^^ ^'^^^^^t ^^'es the transient 'untnthichlhr™'' ''''' '" ''^^^ ^o- entrance had for an Tn 1 1 1 °"^?T'' °^ *« <='-°-ded The ^olding-doorsTtThTtpere'd^^^^^^^ ^'^^^ - were immediately afterwards opened al • °"^ ^*"">' m a whisper that the Queen wasTn h. "^'^ """°""*=^^ to which the^ gave access Both E^J: Presence-chamber, s'ately towards the entrance- S„ ff '"^^ed slowly and B.'ount, and Raleieh a^H i ' ^^"^ ^""^'""^ ^^ Tressilian, of Ui-ter wa^tC to'^e" '' ^""^^^ ^^ ""^^ with a grave and form!i ?• ^^* "^^^ ^° court-forms, and until hifrival. a pie" ^fdt^^^^^^^ ''*^ ^^^^' ^^ P-^^ before him. Suss'ex retu^e^tr'" "^'^ ''^ °"^ formal civility, and entered 1. '''"'°'" "'''' ^^^ «-™e and Blount oLed ^r^ fot hLTr'^^"- ''^^^^"•- the Usher of the Black RoLi "'^ °°' Permitted, precise orders to Took to °it ^T^ '" '^^"^' ^^^^^^^ ''-d em who stood back! tK!>"'T"''''^^^^y- ^o Ral- he said, "You, sir, may enter '• "V^" °' ''' -mpanions, "Follow me close Va^!', ^^ ^^ ^^^^^^d accordingly who had stood Jloof for?'' '"^ ^'^ ^"' °^ ^eices^ of Sussex; and, adva^lt ^Thf '^ ""' ^'^^ '^'^^P^'- to pass on, when Wv 1 '°''^""' '^^ ^^ ^^out ,ci-ed out in the uL^ Wy Jthfr ''''"' '''"' by the usher, as Tressilian InH p, ^' "^^^ '^^PP^d Wm. '.How is this, SSt -o °""* ^'^ ^^^" ^^f°re cester. "Know you who la,; ^'J \^ '"'^ *^ ^^^ °^Lei. and follower?" ^""^ ^^ ^^^ Ais is my friend of my duty." ^ '^' ^^ ^™'* >»« to a strict discharge 3;o ELIZABETH "Thou art a partial knave," said Leicester, the blood mounting to his face, "to do me this dishonour, when you but now admitted a follower of my Lord of Sussex." 'My lord," said Bowyer, " Master Raleigh is newly admitted a sworn servant of her Grace, and to him my orders did not apply." "Thou art a knave— an ungrateful knave," said Leicester; "but he that hath done, can undo -thou slialt not prank thee in thy authority long!" This threat he uttered aloud, with less than his usual policy and discretion, and having done so, he enteret' the presence-chamber, and made his reverence to the Queen, who, attired with even more than her usual splendour, and surrounded by tiose nobles and statesmen whose courage and wisdom have rendered her reign immortal, stood ready to receive the homage of her subjects. She graciously returned the obeisance of the favourite Earl, and looked alternately at him and at Sussex, as if about to speak, when Bowyer, a man whose spirit could not brook the insult he had so openly received from Leicester in the discharge ot his ofifice, advanced with his black rod in his hand, anJ knelt down before her. "Why, how now, Bowj -r?" said Elizabeth, " thy courtesy seems strangely timed!" "My Liege Sovereign," he said, while every courtier around trembled at his audacity, "I come but to ask, whether, in the discharge of my office. I am to obey your Highness's commands, or those of the Earl of Leicester, who has publicly menaced me with his displeasure, and treated me with disparaging terms, because I denied entry to one of his followers in obedience to your Graces precise orders? ' The spirit of Henry VIII, was instantiy aroused in the bosom of his daughter, and she turned on Leicester with a severity which appalled him, as well as all his followers. i- i HOW SIR WALTER RAI.EIOH ISKD HIS CLOAK ,j, l.m one m JL a^d no t,," L^'^"?' ■ " i"'^ "^'"'' ?a«:^ f S„:^t7a. t< [t r ''"■""^ ■-™''=<^ ^' dismayed, and" e air ,e StTf T '' '•">-°"™'"^ h."iCn« Tdt^t' hi":u-r, """^^ °?"^^^«' - her, withou. oppo.1 ^„ o ^K 1™ "'""'r "- ^"f" of her authority The diltv of ,h! n"'' '" "' "'"'°" and the wotnan began s^2 tc, t, ?"M" "'" «^'"'^''' which she had imnin ,, / '" ""= mortiflcation »ne naa imposed on her favourite Her 1<»™ . also observed the secret Innl-. „r . " ^'"^ those ■ o favoured sZl 1 '^""Sratulation amongst to g:. .'ther™rtv It . " ""'""part of her policy • n,i. ; '^ ^ ^ decisive triumph, ivhat I say to my Lord of Leicester- .h. j ^ moment's pause "I s«r ,T.„ . ' *= ^"'d, after a you also musH'eed, 7mf 1° ''°"' ""' ^"'' "' Sussex, head of a faclTotyr ol'.'f ^°"" "' ^"^-<'' "*<= ha:f ™t7:rvrtLetr;'";f .^"-'' •■""'^' your cause, m Ireland, in Scotland, and I: 2.32 ELIZABETH Ui III. against yondc rebellious Karls in the north. I am ienor- ant that—" "Do you bandy looks and words with me, my lord?" Raid the Queen, interrupting him; "methinks you might learn of my Lord of Leicester the modesty to be silent, at least, under our censure. I say, my lord, that my grand- father and my father in their wisdom, debarred the nobles of this civilized land from travelling with such disorderly retin- ues; and think you, that because I wear a coif, their sceptre has in my hand been changed into a distaff? I tell you no king in Christendom will less brook his court to be cumbered, his people oppressed, and his kingdom's peace disturbed, by the arrogance of overgrown power, than she who now speaks with you.-My Lord of Leicester, and you, my Lord of Susse.\, I command you both to be friends with each other; or, by the crown I wear, you shall find an enemy who will be too strong for both of you'" "Madam/' said the Earl of Leicester, " you who are your- self the fountain of honour, know best what is due to mine. I place it at your disposal, and only say, that the terms on which I have stood with my Lord of Sussex have not been of my seeking; nor had he cause to think me his enemy, until he had done me gross wrong." "For me, madam," said the Earl of Sussex, "I cannot appeal from your sovereign pleasure; but I were well content my Lord of Leicester should say in what I have, as he terms it, wronged him, since my tongue never spoke the word that I would not willingly justify either on foot or horseback." "And for me," said Leicester, " always under my gracious Sovereign's pleasure, my hand shall be as ready to make good my words, as that of any man who ever wrote him- self Ratcliffe." "My lords," said the Queen, "these are no terms for this HOWSrRWAI/IKRRALK rOHUSKDHrsrFOAK presence; and if you cinnr^f b find „,ea„s ,„ k.e, b„„ ,h °' d" ■": '""""'■ « "'" ™e see you jou/ Jd , „ T„',r'l:°r "°"'''- '"" animosities." ^ '^^•'' -""^^ 'orm your idle Queen's will. ^' *^" ^''' '"^^^^ ''^"<^e to execute the "Sussex," said Eli.al.eth. "I entreat re- mand you." ' ^"treat-J,eicester, I com- Yet, so were her words accentpH fh^ . J'ke command, and the comn , . ^"''^^'^ '"""^ed remained still knd tubborn unH . ''• '"'^^^*>'- ^^'^ey - height which argued at 'r" '"'^"^ ^^'^ ^°"-e to command. " ^' ""^^ 'mpat.ence and absolute "Sir Henry Lee." she said to in nffi • have a guard in present r:«nH- ' '" ^"^"dance, instantly.-My LordsT Wx ^T't '"' '"^^ ^ ^-^e once more to join hands-and CnH h u?'"'"' ^ ^'^ >'°" shall taste of our Tower fa"; ^' h ^''' ' '^ ''^^^ "-^^"^es ' -" lower your proud h^rts er^^ °" '^" ^"^•"• Prom.se, on the word of a Queen' ' '""' '"' ''^''^* ' i he prison," said Leicester "m;,Ti,fK .. your Grace's presence were To l^^^r ?' ^°'"'' ^"^ ^° '"^^ Here, Sussex, is my hind '^'^' '"^ ''^^ ^' °"-e- ^^A^d here," said Sussex, "is mine in truth and honesty; Queen'' "Vvt ttiTr '"' ?^" ^'^ "° -»-/' -^'d the on them mol^' ' J^.^^/V^-'^^^^e.-sheadd^d, looj!^ 0' Ae people, unite fpr^ote'tth 'T ^'^ ^'^^P'^-^; the flock we rule over For T/ '^^^^ ^' ^e" with your follies and^ol bfawlsT 7'^' ' '^" ^'^^ P'--'>'. -"^ong your servants '"^ *° ^''"^"^^ disorders "My Lord of Leicester. I trnst vn„ rn!st)ourcmu..I,erwemcanto a34 ELIZABETH taste the good cheer of your Castle of Kenilworth on this week ensuing— we will pray you to bid our good and valued friend the Earl of Sussex to hold companytwith us there." "If the noble Earl of Sussex," said Leicester, bowing to his rival, with the easiest and with the most graceful cour- tesy, "will so far honour my poor house, I will hold it an additional proof of the amicable regard it is your Grace's desire we should entertain towards each other." Sussex was more embarrassed— "I should," said he, "madam, be but a clog on your gayer hours, since my late severe illness." "And have you beer, indeed so very ill?" said Elizabeth, looking on him j with more attention than before ; " you are in faith strangely altered, and deeply am I grieved to see it But be of good cheer— we will ourselves look after the health of so valued a servant, and to whom we owe so much. Masters shall order your diet, and that we ourselves may see that he is obeyed, you must attend us in this progress to Kenilworth." This was said so peremptorily, and at the same time with so much kindness, that Sussex, however unwilling to become the guest of his rival, had no resource but to bow- low to the Queen in obedience to her commands, and to express to Leicester, with blunt courtesy, though mingled with embarrassment, his acceptance of his invitation. As the Earls exchanged compliments on the occasion, the Queen said to her High Treasurer, "Methinks, my lord, the countenances of these our two noble peers resemble that of the two famed classic streams, the one so dark and sad, the other so fair and noble,— My old Master Ascham would have chid me for forgetting the author —It is Caesar, as I think. -See what majestic calmness sits on the brow of the noble Leicester, wh'e Sussex seems to greet him as if he did our will indeed, out not willingly. HOW SIR WAITER RAI.EIGH USKDHIS Cf.OAK 235 ireasurer, may perchance occasion the difference which does not-as what does?-escape your Graces eye!" Queen We hold both to be near and dear to us, and To tlf "rr'"' r^"''' '^^'^ '" "^-o^-ble service tthlr ^r °"'' ''"^'°'"- «"^ -^ -" break their ar her conference at present.-My Lords of Sussex and be pS:'„r Ter'n'^" '"""" ^^ ^^^ Pmy-councilto debated w/^; T'" T'''' °^ •'"Portance are to be debated We w,Il then take the water for our divertise ment and you. my lords, will attend us.-And that reminds us of a c.rcumstance-Do you. Sir Squire of the SoLd observe that you are to attend us on our proeress Yon tdrobe.""''"^' ^^* ''''''' -- - -'- y- And so terminated this celebrated audience in wh.Vh as th h , Her life Elizabeth united tht^o^^asi: ' •' pnce of her sex. w.th that sense and sound policy in which neither man nor woman ever excelled her. Sir Walter Scott, h'emhmrth. \\\- I JAMES I AT THE COURT OF THE KINO Master Georfie Hcriot. Goldsmith to His Majesty Kinp James the First, had undertaken to escort his countryman, the young Lord of (Uenvarloch, to the Court at Whitehall. It may be reasonably suppmed that the young man, whose fortunes were like'- to depend on this cast, felt himself more than u uall)' anxious. On the morning of the appointed day he rose early, made his toilette with uncommon care, and, being enabled, by the generosity of his moie plebeian countryman, to set out .i very handsome person to the best advantage, he obtained a momentary approbation from him- self as he glanced at the mirror, and a loud and distinct plaudit from his landlady, who declared at once, that, in her judgmeat, he would take the wind out of the sail of every gallant in the presence— so much had she been able to enrich her discourse with the metaphors of those with whom her husband dealt. At the appointed hour tne barge of Master George Heriot arrived, handsomely manned and appointed, having a till, with his own ciphe , and the arms of his company, painted thereupon. The young Lord of Glenvarloch received the friend, who had evinced such disinterested attachment, with the kind courtesy which well became him. Yet, as the young and high-born nobleman embarked to go to the presence of his Prince, under the patronage of one whose best, or most distinguished qualification, was his being an eminent member of the Goldsmiths' Incorporation, 236 ! Hi B ri. "they LANDKI) at WHITEHALL STAIRS. J^'aee /. iTf AT THE COURT OK THK KING »„ he felt a little surprise J. if ,u.f abashed, at hi, o^n situa- tion; and his servant Richie Moniplics. as he stopped over the gangway to take \m place forward in the !)oat, co,.l,i not help muttering.-" It was a changed day . etwixt Ma«er Henot and his honest father in the Kraimes;-but. douhlloss there was a difference between clinking on gold and silver and clattering upon pewter." ' On they glided, by the asnistance of the oars of four stout watermen, along the Thames, which then served for the prmcipal highroad betwi-a London and Westminster- for few ventured on ho,, ack through the narrow and crowded streets of the city, and coaches were then a luxury reserved only for the hiuher nobility, and to which no,iti/on whatever was his wealth, presumed to aspi-e. The beauty of the banks, especially on the northern side, where the jjardens of the nobility descended from their hotels, in many places, down to the water's edge, was pointed out to Nigel by his kind conductor, and was pointed out in vain The mind of the young Lord of Glenvarloch was filled with anticipations, not t.e most oleasant. concerning the man' in which he was likely to be received by that monarch whose behalf his family had been nearly reduced to ruin • and he was, with the usual mental anxiety of those in such' a situation, framing imaginary questions from the King and over-toiling his spirit in devising answers to them His conductor saw the labour ofGlenvarloch's mind,and avoided increasing it by farther conversation ; so that, when he had explained to him briefly the ceremonies observed at <^ourt on such occasions of presentation, the rest of their voyage was performed in silence. They landed at Whitehall Stairs, and entered the Palace •»< er announcing their names.-the guards paying to Lord (.lomarloch the respect and honours due to his rank ihe young man's heart beat high and thick v ^hin him H! 2iS JAMES I as he came into the royal apartments. His education abroad, conducted, as it had been, on a narrow and Hmited scale, had given him but imperfect ideas of the grandeur of a Court; and the philosophical reflections which taught him to set ceremonial and exterior splendour at defiance, prov- ed, like other maxims of mere philosophy, ineffectual at the moment they were weighed against the impression naturally made on the mind of an inexperienced youth, by the unusual magnificence of the scene. The splendid apart- ments through which they passed, the rich apparel of the grooms, guards, and domestics in waiting, and the ceremo- nial attending their passage through the long suite of apart- ments, had sohiething in it, trifling and commonplace as it might appear to practised courtiers, embarrassing, and even alarming, to one who went through these forms for the first time, and who was doubtful what sort of reception was to accompany his first appearance before his Sovereign. Heriot, in anxious attention to save his young friend from any momentary awkwardness, had taken care to give the necessary password to the warders, grooms of the cham- bers, ushers, or by whatever name they were designated; so they passed on without interruption. In this manner they passed several ante-rooms, filled chiefly with guards, attendants of the Court, and their acquaintances, male and female, who, dressed in their best apparel, and with eyes rounded by eager curiosity to make the most of their opportunity, stood, with beseeming modesty, ranked against the wall, in a manner which indicated that they were spectators, not performers, in the courtly ex- hibition. Through these exterior apartments Lord Glenvarloch and his city friend advanced into a large and splendid with- drawing-room, communicating with the presence-chamber, into which ante-room were admitted those only, who, from AT THE COURT OF THE KING .39 birtli, their posts in the stale or household, or by the parti- cular grant of the King, had right to attend the Court as men entitled to pay their respects to their Sovereign. Amid this favoured and selected company, Glenvarloch observed Sir Mungo Malagrowther, who, avoided and dis- countenanced by those who knew how low he stood in Court interest and favour, was but too happy in the opportunity of hooking himself upon a person of Lord Glenvarlochs rank, who was, as yet, so inexperienced, as to feel it diffi- cult to shake oflf an intruder. The trio occupied a nook of the ante-room next to the Hoei of the presence-chamber, which was not yet thrown open, when Maxwell, with his rod of office, came bustling into the apartment, where most men, excepting those of high rank, made way for him. He stopped beside the party in which we are interested, looked for a moment at the young Scots nobleman, then made a slight obeisance to Heriot, and lastly, addressing Sir Mungo Malagrowther began a hurried complaint to him of the misbehaviour of the gentlemen-pensioners and warders, who suffered all sort of citizens, suitors, and scriveners, to sneak into the outer apartments, without either respect or decency -"The tnghsh," he said, "were scandalized, for such a thing durst not be attempted in the Queen's days. In her time, there was then the court-yard for the mobility, and the apartments for the nobility; and it reflects on your place Sir Mungo," he added, "belonging to the household as you' do that such things should not be better ordered" Here Sir Mungo, afflicted, as was frequentiy the case on such occasions, with one of his usual fits of deafness, an- swered, It was no wonder the mobility used freedom, ^n K? ^i°'^^,^°"^ they saw in office were so little better m blood and havings than themselves." "You are right, sir-quite right," said xMaxwell, putting i! 1 240 JAMES I his hand on the tarnished embroidery on the old knight's sleeve,— "when such fellows see men in office dressed in cast-off" suits, like paltry stage-players, it is no wonder the Court is thronged with intruders." "Were you lauding the taste of my embroidery, Maister Maxwell?" answered the knight, who apparently inter- preted the deputy-chamberlain's meaning rather from his action than his words;— "it is of an ancient and liberal . attem, having been made by your mother's father, auld James Stitchell, a master-fashioner of honest repute, in Merlin's Wynd, whom I made a point to employ, as I am now happy to remember, seeing your father thought fit to intermarry with sic a person's daughter." Maxwell looked stem; but, conscious there was nothing to be got of Sir Mungo in the way of amends, and that prosecuting the quarrel with such an adversary would only render him ridiculous, and make public a mis-alliance of which he had no reason to be proud, he covered his resent- ment with a sneer; and, expressing his regret that Sir Mungo was become too deaf to understand or attend to what was said to him, walked on, and planted himself beside the folding-doors of the presence-chamber, at whicli he was to perform the duty of deputy-chamberlain, or usher, so soon as they should be opened. "The door of the presence is about to open," said the goldsmith, in a whisper, to his young friend; "my condition permits me to go no farther with you. Fail not to present yourself boldly, according to your birth, and offer your Supplication; which the King will not refuse to accept, and, as I hope, to consider favourably." As he spoke, the door of the presence-chamber opened accordingly, and, as is usual on such occasions, the cour tiers began to advance towards it, and to enter in a slow, but continuous and uninterrupted stream AT THK COURT OF THE KIXG 241 As Glenvarloch presented himself in his turn -.t th . » and mentioned his name p.nd tit^ VC H ' " ^"''' hesitate. "You are not known ^^Iny^^^l;:^' J;^ IS my duty to suffer no one to nass tn fhl ^ lord, whose race is »".„„ ^.I^Jesf^pTr^Td^ of a responsible person." ° "I came wieh Masler George Heriot," said Glenvarloch in "m.',: T""'" •' '"- X-Peced ineerrup":;'""'' Ma -' ^"-"'i b-k." whj^^ LrsprnT;..? Xe H^rrn-d separated from Glenvarloch, and ^ho now '^mrfo™^" observing the altercation betwi« the latter and Max^^S^' Sir M «J i^""" Deputy-Chamberlain Maxwelr L Sr M„„g„ Malagrowther, "expressing his joy to le Lo d at least, I think he is speaking to that ptirport-for vo„r ter^hip kens my imperfection." A subdued laugh sTh ^eaM^rrcirors^''rgr '' ™°"«'' •''- "^° .H»Mnob,eLnstepp1d^;iirmrfrry,eVa:; rrun^lsrrthl^;— ;:^-o-- no known, and I have orders to be scrupulous" Tutti-taiti, man," said the old \nr,^ "t mu able he is hi«! fothl • r ' -^ ^^''" ''^ answer- is his fathers son, from the cut of his eyebrow- T r •4» JAMES I I I' p' ill Till and thou, Maxwell, knew'st his father well enough to have spared thy scruples. Let us pass, man." So saying, he put aside the deputy-chamberlain's rod, and entered the presence-room, still holding the young nobleman by the arm. "Why, I must know you, man," he said; "I must know you. I knew your father well, man, and I have broken a lance and crossed a blade with him ; and it is to my credit that I am living to brag of it. He was king'sman, and I ..as queen's-man, during the Douglas war— young fellows both, that feared neither fire nor steel; and we had some old feudal quarrels besides, that had come down from father to son, with our seal-rings, two-handed broadswords, and plate-coats, and the crests on our burgonets." "Too loud, my* Lord of Huntinglen," whispered a gentle- man of the chamber,-" The Kingl-the King!" The old Earl (for such he proved) took the hint, and was silent; and James, advancing from a side-door, received in succession the compliments of strangers, while a little group of favourite courtiers, or officers of the household, stood around him, to whom he addressed himself from time to time. Some more pains had been bestowed on his toilette than usual; but there was a natural awkwardness about his figure which prevented his clothes from sitting hand- somely, and the prudence or timidity of his disposition had made him adopt the custom of wearing a dress so thickly quilted as might withstand the stroke of a dagger, which added an ungainly stiffness to his whole appearance, contrasting oddly with the frivolous, ungraceful, and fidgeting motions with which he accompanied his convers- ation. And yet, though the King's deportment was very undignified, he had a manner so kind, famiUar, and good-humoured, was so little apt to veil over or conceal his own foibles, and had so much indulgence and sympathy for those of others, that his address, joined to his learning, AT THE COURT OF THE KING ,43 and a certain proportion of shrewd mother-wit, failed not l^sTeL' "^'" ''"^''•"'°" "" '^°^^ ^^^° approached varcrtfhif? °^«""^"n«len had presented Lord r.len- varloch to h s Sovereign, a ceremony which the good peer took upon himself, the King received the young lord ve^ graciously, and observed to his introducer, that he " wZ am to see them twa stand side by side; for I trow, my Lord Huntmglen," continued he, "your ancestors, ay and to roTat the ' f '''' ^''^ '^''^ ^^^^^^' ^^ve st'ood'Vront to front at the svords point, and that is a worse posture." echoed IZ '"''''" '"' ''"'•' """^'"S'^"' ""^ 'de Lord Ochtred and me cross palms, upon the memorable day when your Majesty feasted all the nobles that were at feud together, and made them join hands in your presence—" . hi"" H V' \' ' 'f '^' ^^"^' "^ '"'"^^ ^' ^eel-it was a blessed day, being the nineteen of September, of all days m the year-and it was a blithe sport to see how some of the carles girned as they clapped loofs together. By my Ss wadT rt °' ^'^'"' ""''' «P-^^ '^^ ^'land chiels wad have broken out in our own presence; but we caused them to march hand in hand to the Cross, ourselve! ness with Ilk other, to the stanching of feud, and perpetua |on of amity. Auld John Anderson was Provost that 'ear d hTr? "^^^ '"°'' ""^ '^' ^"'"^^ ^"d Councillors danc very'^t:^^;^ • " °" '"""" "'^ '^^-^^"-^"^^ ''''^' ^- "It was indeed a happy day," said Lord Huntinglen ^^nd _wiU not be forgotten in the history of your Majesty^' -•"{ TnlH °°l '^u' '' ^''"' '"^ ^°'"^'" ^^P''«d the Monarch Ay av ^.r. i'" "''" pretermitted in our annals. Ay, ay-^,a// j,ac{/lc:. My English lieges here may weel a44 JAMES I make much of me, for I would have them to know, they have gotten the only peaceable man that ever came of my family. If James with the Fiery Face had come amongst you," he said, looking round him, "or my great grandsire, of Flodden memory 1 " "We should have sent him back to the north again," whispered one English nobleman. "At least," said another, in the same inaudible tone, "we should have had a man to our sovereign, though he were but a Scotsman." "And now, my young springald," said the King to Lord Glenvarloch, "where have you been spending your calf time?" 1 "At Leyden, of late, may it please your Majesty," an- swered Lord Glenvarloch. "j»ha! a scholar," said the King; "and, by my saul, a modest and ingenuous youth, that hath not forgotten how to blush, like most of our travelled Monsieurs. We will treat him conformably." Then drawing himself up, coughing slightly, and looking around him with the conscious importance of superior learning, while all the courtiers who understood, or under- stood not, Latin, pressed eagerly forward to listen, the sapient monarch prosecuted his enquiries as follows:— "Hem! hem! Salve bis, quaterqtie sdvc, Gknvarlochides nosUrl Nuperu.une ab Lugduno Batavorutn Britanniam re- diisHr The young nobleman replied, bowing low— "//«.//,. Z2r'-'''' '"^"---"heless. keep by the door.Cd Hummglen. m case Steenie should come in with hi; mad "wZrT^ ^°°'" "'•'''"'''" ^'■°"""^ '^^ ^^^ of Huntinglen. bkld I'vn. """'"■ '" .r"*" °"" ^°^d *=°""'^y. yo" had warmer DiC'oa m your vems. and then '? ^^^\S'^"-"g his eye towards the door ord Hunf'n"^'"' 'I "' '" ''' P'P^'"' ^^hamedtha HMty ' ' "'"" '^ "^P^'^'^'^' ^^-^^ -«P^^' him Miif •50 JAMES I "To grant the truth," he said, after he had finished his hasty perusal, "this is a hard case; and harder than it was represented to me, though I had some inkling of it before. And so the lad only wants payment of the siller due from us. in order to recla-n his paternal estate? But then. Hunt inglen, the lad will ive other debts— and why burden himself with sae mony acres of barren woodland? let the land gang, man, let the land gang ; Steenie has the promise of it from our Scott" h Chancellor— it is the best hunting ground in Scotland— and Baby Charles and Steenie want to kill a buck there this next year— they maun hae the land— they maun hae the land; and our lebt shall be paid to the young man plack and bawbee, and he may have the spending of it at our Court; or if he has such an eard hunger, wouns! man, we'll stuff his stomach with English land, which is worth twice as much, ay, ten times as much, as these accursed hills and heughs, and mosses and muirs, that he is sae keen after." All this while the poor King an- bled up and down the ap; -tment in a piteous state of uncertainty, which was made more rMiculous by his shambling circular mode of managing his legs, and his ungainly fashion on such occasions of fiddling with the bunches of ribbons which fastened the lower part of his dress. Lord Huntinglen listened with great composure, and answered, "An it please your M&; sty, there was an answer yielded by Naboth when Ahab coveted his vineyard— ' The Lord forbid that I should give the inheritance of my fathers unto thee. " "Ey, my lord— ey, my lord!" ejaculated James, while all the colour mounted both to his cheek and nose; "1 hope ye mean not to teach me divinity? Ye need not fear, my lord, that I will shun \o do justice to every man; and, since your lordship will give me no help to take up AT THE COURT OF THK KISC. ,5, Jll^^VJU/f^T *^*"'''"' '"'^n«'->^hilk, methinki. would be better for the young man, as I said before.-why-sincc It maun be so— 'sdeath I am a fr*.#. v;«» «, '^ T" .L.„ . . . »"«'»'«. 1 am a free Kmg, man, and he sha^l have h.s money and redeem his land, and make a wn /!n ' r V'' "" ^^ ^•"•'" S° »^>'">^' he hastily wro.e an order on the Scottish Exchequer for the sum in question and then added. "How ti.ey are to pay it. I see not; but I warrant he will find money on the order among the goldsmiths, who can find it for every one but me.- And now you see. my Lord of Huntinglen. that I am neither an untrue man, to deny you the boon whilk I became bound for, nor an Ahab, to covet Nahoth's vine- yard; nor a mere nose-of-wax, to be twisted this way and that by favourites and counsellors at their pleasure. I think you will grant now that I am none of those >" You are my own native and noble Prince," said Hunt- >nglen. as he knelt to kiss the royal hand-"jusi and ownTa;t'^ '''"■ ^'" "'''" '" '^'' "°^^'"^^ °f y""^ rl^I'w'/^uc ^"^ ^'"^' '^"«^'"« good-naturedly, as he aiscd his faithful servant from the ground, "that's what ye all say when I do anything to please ye. There-" ere ^ke the sign-manual. and away with you and this >oung feHow. I wonder Steenie and Baby Charles have not broken m on us before now." Lord Huntii.glen hastened from the cabinet, foreseeing sortIL'' ^". 'T ""^'•"'"" ^" ^' P^^^«"»' ^^' which sometimes occurred when Jumes roused himself so far as to exert his own free-will, of which he boasted so much '",.'r\ r!^^' °^^'' imperious favourite Steenie, as he ule 'h . """'t.^' B-kingham, from u supposed 'resem I'lance beUvixt his very handsome countenance, and that ^v'.th which the Italian artists represented the protomartvr btephen. It fact, the haughty favourite, who had the unu- ! ( 252 JAMES I i ill ' ill 1 i m sual good fortune to stand as high in the opinion of the heir-apparent as of the existing monarch, had considerably diminished in his respect towards the latter; and it was apparent, to the more shrewd courtiers, that James endured his domination rather from habit, timidity, and a dread of encountering his stormy passions, than from any heartfelt continuation of regard towards him, whose greatness had been the work of his own hands. To save himself the pain of seeing what was likely to take place on the Duke's return, and to preserve the King from the additional humili- ation which the presence of such a witness must have occasioned, the Earl left the cabinet as speedily as possible, having first carefully pocketed the important sign-manual. No sooner had he entered the presence-room, than he hastily sought Lord Glenvarloch, who had withdrawn into the embrasure of one of the windows, from the general gaze of men who seemed disposed only to afford him the notice which arises from surprise and curiosity, and, taking him by the arm, without speaking, led him out of the pre sence-chamber into the first anteroom. Here they found the worthy goldsmith, who approached them with looks of curiosity, which were checked by the old lord, who said hastily, "All is well.— Is your barge in waiting?" Heriot answered in the affirmative. " Then," said Lord Huntinglen, "you shall give me a cast in it, as the watermen say, and I, in requital, will give you both your dinner ; for we must have some conversation together." They both followed the Earl without speaking, and were in the second anteroom when the important annunciation of the ushers, and the hasty murmur with which all made ample way as the company repeated to each other,— " The Duke— the Duke! " made them aware of the approach of the omnipotent favourite. He entered, that unhappy minion of court favour, sump- AT THE COURT OF THK KING „, .he proud age, „he„ ^S^^yt^^lT''' ^^ "■^" nodding to its fall, still by^Lr„,T ."""'"''' """ expense, endeavoured to assert t" """ ""'"^ over the inferior orders The ll^ P^^oun. superiority countenance, stately fonn,?„d ^tfTll' '^T^"'''"^ of d,e Duke of Buckingh™, mf^e wltcoJt, TT resque dress beyond any man of hi^ t^r V '^'""■ however, his countenance seem.j j" ' P'^^ent, little more disordered"! SetT"".' "''"""^ and his voice imperative '^^'^' ■"' "=P '""»■>'• with his companions, „hT»Sdn„,fr"''''°"'^'°"' decently left him, rema,ned sTwe e by tmT"'- '"' middle of the room ^nH ." ^^'^^ ^^ themselves m the favourite. He toucT;d ht "'"^ ^'^^^ °^ ^'^^ ^"^T Huntinglen, bV^ole d ^HerioT td^ V^T °" with its shadowy plume :,^V^ ™\^rid sunk his beaver, air of mock rispec w.: ^-^ '^t'"''' ^'^'^ ^ P'-°'"°""d did simplv anTunafrectedrv tr^^^ '"'"""^' "^"^^ he much conrtesy. mT" 'e ot'thr'' "'"'-/''^^ ness." ' °"^" *"e reverse of kind- .hl'o^i::'.!';'™!'; me'';"t "• ''"'" «="<»."-«red protection; sir-you'r Zlg^ "C^^' '° ^'^ ^°" stand, a solicitor of su n T °'=°"'^' ' ""<'"- fautor of court suit^LTf '^'°"'°'"-'° "ndertaker-a ^= Pennyir'urylT;: lla^ "'^ '''"'' '° new boast " ^ ^^""^ >'°" °"t »n your th:ix;r^rmnr-\-::i:'^ ii 254 JAMES I "O, you do yourself less than justice, my good Master Heriot, " continued the Duke, in the same tone of irony; " you have a marvellous court-faction, to be the son of an Edinburgh tinker. Have the goodness to prefer me to the knowledge of the high-born nobleman who is honoured and advantaged by your patronage." "That shall be my task," said Lord Huntinglen, with em- phasis. " My lord duke, I desire you to know Nigel Olifaunt, Lord Glenvarloch, representative of one of the most ancient and powerful baronial houses in Scotland.— Lord Glenvar- loch, I present you to his Grace the Duke of Buckingham, representative of Sir George Villiers, Knight of Brookesby, in the county of Leicester." The Duke coloured still more high as he bowed to Lord Glenvarloch scornfully, a courtesy which the other returned haughtily, and with restrained indignation. "We know each other, then," said the Duke, after a moment's pause, and as if he had seen something in the young nobleman which merited more serious notice than the bitter raillery with which he had commenced— " we know each other— and you know me, my lord, for your enemy." "I thank you for your plainness, my lord duke," replied Nigel; "an open enemy is better than a hollow friend." "For you, my Lord Huntinglen," said the Duke, "me- thinks you have but now overstepped the limits of the indul- gence permitted to you, as the father of the Prince's friend, and ir- own." "By my word, my lord duke," replied the Earl, "it is easy for any one to outstep boundaries, of the existence of which he was not aware. It is neither to secure my protection nor approbation that my son keeps such exalted company." "O, ray lord, we know you, and indulge you," said the Duke; "you are one of those who presume for a life-long upon the merit of one good action," AT THE COURT OF THE KING 255 ^ 'In faith, my lord, and if it be ^o," said the dd Earl •I have at least the advantage of surh as presume more than I do, without having done any action of merit what ever. But I mean not to quarrel with you, my lord-wc can neither be friends nor enemies-you have your path and I have mine " ' ' Buckingham only replied by throwing on his bonnet, and shaking Its lofty plume with a careless and scornful toss of the head. They parted thus; the Duke walking onwards through the apartments, and the others leaving the palace and repairing to Whitehall stairs, where they embarked on boa the barge of the citizen. Sir Walter Scott, Fortunes of Nigel. n CHARLES I A ROYAL WARRANT I li' i 't iw:, The royal warrant authorized the Earl of Montrose to assemble the subjects in arms, for the patting down the present rebellion, which divers traitors and seditious persons had levied against the King, to the manifest forfaulture, as it stated, of their allegiance, and to the breach of the paci- fication between the two kingdoms. It enjoined all subor- dinate authorities to be obedient and assisting to Montrose in his enterprise; gave him the power of making ordinances and proclamations, punishing misdemeanours, pardoning criminals, placing and displacing governors and commanders. In fine, it was as large and full a commission as any with which a prince could intrust a subject. It was read to the Scottish Chiefs on i August 1644, and as soon as it was finished, a shout burst from the assem- bly, in testimony of their ready submission to the will of their sovereign. Not contented "with generally thanking them for a reception so favourable, Montrose hastened to address himself to individuals. The most important Chiefs had already been long personally known to him, but even to those of inferior consequence he now introduced himself; and by the acquaintance he displayed with their peculiar designations, and the circumstances and history of their clans, he showed how long he must have studied tlie character of the mountaineers, and prepared himself for such a situation as he now held. While he was engaged in these acts of courtesy, his grace- ful manner, expressive features, and dignity of deportment. 256 A ROYAL WARRANT ,5^ made a singular contrast with the coarseness and meanness of his disgmsed dress. Montrose possessed that sort of fo^ and face, m which the beholder, at the first glance, sees nothing extraordmary, but of which the interest becomes more .mpressive the longer we gaze upon them. His stature was very httle above the middle size, but in person he wl! uncommonly well-built, and capable both of exertin, grTa force, and endunng much fatigue. In fact, he enbyed a constitution of iron, without which he could not have inr H K ';"'' k' '" ^-^^--d'-n^ campaigns, through a^ of which he subjected himself to the hardships of the meanes soldier. He was perfect in all exercises, whether peaceful or martial, and possessed, of course, that gracefu ease of deportment proper to those to whom habit has rendered ah postures easy. His long brown hair, according to the custom of men of head, and trained to hang down on each side in curled ocks one of which, descending two or three inches lower han the others, intimated Montrose's compliance with tha fashion against which it pleased Mr Prynne. the puritan to wnte a treatise entitled. "The Unloveliness of Lovelocks " The features which these tresses enclosed, were of tha^kind whch derive their interest from the character of he man rather than from the regularity of their form. But a hi"' nose, a full, decided, well-opened, quick grey eye and a sanguine complexion, made amends for some coarseness and .regularity in the subordinate parts of the fa e so hat. al ogether. Montrose might be termed rather a hand some than a hard-featured man. But those who saw h"m a^d fi^ soul looked through those eyes with all the energ" uthor^v of f?'? '\"'l "'° '^^'' ^'"^ ^P^^k with the Pre .ed uith an opmion even of his external form, more u asS CHARLES I ! enthusiastically favourable than the portraits which still survive would entitle us to ascribe to it. Such, at least, was the impression he made upon the assembled Chiefs of the mountaineers, over whom, as upon all persons in their state of society, personal appearance has no small influence. In the discussions which followed Montrose explained the various risks which he had run in his present under- taking. His first attempt had been to assemble a body of loyalists in the north of England, who, in obedience to the orders ot the Marquis of Newcastle, he expected would have marched into Scotland; but the disinclination of the English to cross the Border, and the delay of the Earl of Antrim, who was to have landed in the Solway Frith with his Irish army, prevented his executing this design. Other plans having in like' manner failed, he stated that he found him- self under the necessity of assuming a disguise to render his passage secure through the Lowlands, in which he had been kindly assisted by his kinsman of Menteith. "By the honour of a cavalier," said Captain Dalgetiy, finding at length an opportunity to thrust in his word, "I am proud and happy in having an opportunity of drawing a sword under your lordship's command." Captain Dalgetty's attention, was suddenly called by Montrose himself "Hear this news," he said, "Captain Dalgetty-I should say Major Dalgetty,-the Irish, who are to profit by your military experience, are now within a few leagues of us." "Our deer-stalkers," said Angus M'Aulay, "who were abroad to bring in venison for this honourable party, have heard of a band of strangers, speaking neither Saxon nor pure Gaelic, and with difficulty making themselves under stood by the people of the country, who are marching this way in arms, under the leading, it is said, of Alaster M'Donald, who is commonly called Young Colkitto." A ROYAL WARRANT 859 "These must be our men," said Montrose; "we must hasten to send messengers forward, both to act as guides and to reheve their wants." "The last/' said Angus M'Aulay, "will be no easy matter; for I am mformed, that, excepting muskets and a very little ammunuion they want every thing that soldiers should have; and they are particularly deficient m money, in shoes, and m raiment. ' ''There is at least no use in saying so." said Montrose, m so loud a one. The puritan weavers of Glasgow shal from the Highlands; and if the ministers could formerly preacn the old women of the Scottish boroughs out of their jvebs of napery. to make tents to the fellows on Dunse Law. will try whether I have not a little interest both to make these godly dames renew iheir patriotic gift, and the prick- eared knaves, their husbands, open their purses ' lord Hn 'T'''"^ '™''" '"^^ ^'^P^^'" ^^•^^^"y' "if yo"r ord.h,p will permit an old cavalier to speak his mind, so tha the one-third have muskets, my darling weapon would be he pike for the remainder, whether for resisting a charge of horse or for breaking the infantry. A common smifh n ™H r ^ u^'f"'^ pike-heads in a day; here is plenty of wood for shafts; and I will uphold, that, according to the best usages of war. a strong battalion of pikes, drawn up n the fashion of the Lion of the North, the immortal C^ustavus. would beat the Macedonian phalanx, of which I used to read in the Mareschal-College, when I studied in !^ZZVT °' ^°"^^^°^''' ^^^ ^-'h-' I -" venture The Captain's lecture upon tactics was here suddenly nterrupted by Allan M'Aulay, who said, hastily.-" Room for an unexpected and unwelcome guest I" At the same moment, the door of the hail opened, and 26o CHARLES I if. . a grey-haired man, of a very stately appearance, presented himself to the assembly. There was much dignity, and even authority, in his manner. His stature was above the common si/e, and his looks such as were used to com mand. He cast a severe, and almost stern glance upon the assembly of Chiefs. 'I'hose of the higher rank amon^ them returned it with scornful indifterence; but some ol the western gentlemen of inferior power, looked as if they wished themselves elsewhere. "To which of this assembly," said the stranger, "am 1 to address myself as leader? or have you not fixed upon the person who is to hold an office at least as perilous as it is honourable?" "Address yourself to me. Sir Duncan Campbell," said Montrose, stepping forward. 'To you!" said Sir Duncan Campbell, with some scorn. "Yes,— to me," repeated Montrose,— "to the Karl of Montrose, if you have forgot him." "I should now, at least," said Sir Duncan Campbell, "have had some difficulty in recognising him in disguise. And yet I might have guessed that no evil inHuence ii.ferinr to your lordship's, distinguished as one who troubles Israel, could have collected together this rash assembly of mis- guided persons." " I will answer unto you," said Montrose, " in the manner of your own Puritans. I have not troubled Israel, but thou and thy father's house. But let us leave an altercation, which is of little consequence but to ourselves, and hear the tidings you have brought from your Chief of Argyle; for I must conclude that it is in his name that you have come to this meeting." "It is in the name of the Marquis of Argyle," said Sir Duncan Campbell,— "in the name of the Scottish Conven- tion of Estates, that I demand to know the meaning of this ' H.VK .vor rROUBX.ED ISR..X, BUT THOU .SO THV K.vrHKR' HOLSK. ;r s Face p. ita A ROYAL WARRANT ^^ sinpular convocation. If it is desifined to disturb the peace of the country, it were but acting like neighbours, and men of honour, to give us some intimation to stand upon our guard. *^ "It is a singular, and new state of affairs in Scotland" said Montrose, turning from Sir Duncan Campbell to the assembly "when Scottish men of rank and family cannot meet m the house of a common friend without an inquisi- tonal visit and demand, on the part of our rulers, to know the subject of our conference. Methinks our ancestors were accustomed to hold Highland huntings, or other purposes x,.;^';f' "'^'.7"''°"' ^'^'"« ^^^ '^'^^^ e>'her of the great M Galium More himself, or any of his emissaries or de- pendents. "The times have been .«uch in Scotland," answered one of the Western Chiefs, "and such they will again be. when the mtruders on our ancient possessions are again reduced to be Lairds of Lochow, instead of overspreading us like a band of devouring locusts." "Am I to understand, then." said Sir Duncan, "that •> is a.,'a.nst my name alone that these preparations are directed > or are the race of Diarmid only to be sufferers in common with the whole of the peaceful and orderly inhabitants of Scotland? "I >vould ask," said a wild-looking Chief, starting hastily up, one question of the Knight of Ardenvohr, ere he proceeds farther in his daring catechism. -Has he brou-ht more than one life to this castle, that he ventures to intrude among us for the purposes of insult?" " Gentlemen." said Montrose, " let me implore your patience- a messenger who comes among us for the purpose of em-' bassy, IS entitled to freedom of speech and safe-conduct And since Sir Duncan Campbell is so pressing, I care not U I inform him, for his guidance, that he is in an assembly '■■ 1 ''1 ri ; a63 CHARLKS I of the King'i loyal nubjects, convoked by me, in his Ma jesty's name and authority, and as empowered by his Ma- jesty's royal commission." "We are to have, then, I presume," said Sir Duncan Campbell, "a civil war in all its forms? I have been toi) long a soldier to view its approach with anxiety; but it would have been for my Lord of Montrose's honour, if. in this matter, he had consulted his own ambition less, and the peace of the country more." "Those consulted their own ambition and self interest, Sir Duncan," answered Montrose, "who brought the country to the pass in which it now stands, and rendered necessary the sharp remedies which we are now reluctantly about to use. "And what rank among these self seekers," said Sir Dun- can Campbell, "we shall assign to a noble Earl, so violently attached to the Covenant, that he was the first, in 1639, to cross the Tyne, wading middle deep at the head of his regiment, to charge the royal forces? It was the same, I think, who imposed the Covenant upon the br-'^esses and colleges of Aberdeen, at the point of sword ana pike." "I understand your sneer. Sir Duncan," said Montrose, temperately; "and I can only add, that if sincere repentance can make amends for youthful error, and for yielding to the artful representation of ambitious hypocrites, I shall be pardoned for the crimes with which you taunt me. I will at least endeavour to deserve forgiveness, for I am here, with my sword in my hand, willing to spend the best blood of my body to make amends for my error; and mortal man can do no more." "Well, my lord," said Sir Duncan. "I shall be sorr>' to carry back this language to the Marquis of Argyle. I had it in farther charge from the Marquis, that, to prevent the bloody feuds which must necessarily follow a Highland war, A ROYAL WARRANT »63 hi> lordship will be contentc! if terms of truce could be arranged to the north of the Highland line, as there is Kround enough in Scotland to fight, upon, without neigh- bours destroying each other's families and inheritances." "It is a peaceful proposal," said Montrose, smiling, "such as it should be, coming from one whose personal actions have always been more peaceful than his measures. Yet, if the terms of such a truce could be equally fixed, and if we can obtain security,-for that, Sir Duncan, is indispen- sal)le,-that your Marquis will observe these terms wit!i strict fidelity, I, for my part, should be content to leave peace behind us. since we must needs carry war before us. But, Sir Duncan, you are too old and experienced a soldier for us to permit you to remain in our leaguer, and witness our proceedings; we shall therefore, when you have refreshed yourself, recommend your speedy return to Inverary, and we shall send with you a gentleman on our part to adjust the terms of the Highland armistice, in case the Marquis shall be found serious in proposing such a measure. ' Sir Duncan Campbell assented by a bow. "My Lord of Menteith," contmued Mont-ACi "will you have the goodness to attend Sir Duncan Campbell of Ar- denvohr, while we determine who shall return with him to his Chief? M'Aulay will permit us to request that he be entertained with suitable hospitality." "I will give orders for that," said Allan M'Aulay, rising and coming forward. "I love Sir Duncan Campbell; we have been joint sufferers in former days, and I do not forget it now." "My Lord of Menteith," said Sir Duncan Campbell. "I am grieved to see you. at your early age, engaged in such desperate and rebellious courses." "I am young," answered Menteith, "yet old enough to distmguish between right and wrong, between loyalty and 364 CHARLES I rebellion •, and the sooner a good course is begun, the longer and the better have I a chance of running it." "And you too, my friend, Allan M'Aulay," said Sir Duncan, taking his hand, "must we also call each other enemies, that have been so often allied against a common foe?" Then turning round to the meeting, he said, "Fare- well, gentlemen; there are so many of you to whom I wish well, that your rejection of all terms of mediation gives me deep affliction. May Heaven," he said, looking upwards, "judge between our motives, and those of the movers of this civil commotion!" " Amen," said Montrose ; " to that tribunal we all submitus" S^R Walter Scott, A Legend of Montrose. ' CO\!aIO\U'E VLTH WHEN THE PRINCE WA. PRINCE INDEED After the battle of Worcester Prince Charles was for a time in disguise at Woodstock. One day as he was about to leave his apartment, he was prevented by the appearance of a cavalier, who entered with an unusual degree of swagger in his gait, and of fantastic importance on his brow. "I crave your pardon, fair sir," he said; but, as they say in my country, when doors are open dogs enter. I have knocked and called in the hall to no purpose; so, knowing the way to this parlour, sir,-for I am a light partisan, and the road I once travel I never forget, I ventured to present myself unannounced." "Sir Henry Lee is abroad, sir, I believe, in the Chase " said Charles, coldly, for the appearance of this somewhat vulgar debauchee was not agreeable to him at the moment, and Master Albert Lee has left the Lodge for two or three days. "I am aware of it, sir," said the cavalier; "but I have no busmeos at present with either." "And with whom is your business?" said Charles; "that IS, it I may be permitted to ask-since I think it cannot m pc'-'-ibility be with me." "Pardon me in turn," answered the cavalier; "in no pos- sibility can it be imparted to any other but yourself, if you be, as I think you are, though in something better habit, Master Louis Kemeguy, the Scottish gentleman who waits upon Master Albert Lee." "I am aU you are like to find for him," answered Charles. im 266 COMMONWEALTH Hi "In truth," said the cavalier, "I do perceive a difference, but rest and better clothing will do much; and I am glad of it, since I would be sorry to have brought a message, such as I am charged with, to a tatterdemalion." "Let us get to the business, sir, if you please," said the King— "you have a message for me, you say?" "True, sir," replied the cavalier; "I am Captain Wildrake, the friend of Colonel Markham Everard, sir, a tall man, and a worthy person in the field, although I could wish him a better cause— A message I have to you, it is certain, in a slight note, which I take the liberty of presenting with the usual formalities." So saying, he drew his sword, put the billet he mentioned upon the point, and, making a profound bow, presented it to Charles. The disguised Monarch accepted of it, with a grave return of the salute, and said, as he was about to open the letter, "I am not, I presume, to expect friendly contents in an epistle presented in so hostile a manner?" "Ahem, sir," replied the ambassador, clearing his voice, while he arranged a suitable answer, in which the mild strain of diplomacy might be properly maintained, "not utterly hostile, I suppose, sir, is the invitation, though it be such as must be construed in the commencement rather bellicose and pugnacious. I trust, sir, we shall find that a few thrusts will make a handsome conclusion of the business: and so, as my old master used to say, Pax nascitur ex bello. For my own poor share, I am truly glad to have been graced by my friend Markham Everard in this matter- the rather as I feared the puritan principles with which he is imbued, (I will confess the truth to you, worthy sir,) might have rendered him unwilling, from certain scruples, to have taken the gendemanlike and honourable mode of righting himself in such a case as the present. And as I render a friend's duty to my friend, so I humbly hope, Master Louis A MESSAGE I HAVE TO VOU." face p. 266 WHEN THE PRINCE WAS PRINCE INDEED 267 Kemeguy, that I do no injustice to you, in preparing the way for the proposed meeting, where, give me leave "to say. I trust, that if no fatal accident occur, we shall be all better friends when the skirmish is over than we were before it began." "I should suppose so, sir, in any case." said Charles, looking at the letter; "worse than mortal enemies we can scarce be, and it is that footing upon which this billet places us." "You say true, sir," said Wildrake; "it is, sir, a cartel, introducing to a single combat, for the pacific object of restoring a perfect good understanding betwi.xt the sur- vivors-in case that fortunately that word can be used in the i)lural after t*'- event of the meeti-g." "In short, we only fight, I suppose," replied the King, "that we may come to a perfectly good and amicable understanding?" "You are right again, sir; and I thank you for the c'ear- ness of your apprehension," said Wildrake.-" Ah, sir, it is easy to do with a person of honour and of intellect in'such a case as this. And I beseech you, sir, as a personal kind- ness to myself, that, as the morning is like to be frosty, and myself am in some sort rheumatic-as war will leave Its scars behind, sir, -I say, I will entreat of you to bring with you some gentleman of honour, who will not disdain to take part of what is going forward-a sort of pot-luck sir,-with a poor old soldier like r.iyself-that we may take no harm by standing unoccupied during .uch cold weather " "I understand, sir," replied Charles; "if this matter goes fonvard, be assured I will endeavour to provide you with a suitable opponent." "1 shall remain greatly indebted to you, sir," said Wild- rake; "and I am by no means curious about the quality of my antagonist.-It is true I write myself esquire and 268 COMMONWEALTH ;>■ i li I gentleman, and should account myself especially honoured by crossing my sword with that of Sir Henry or Master Albert Lee; but, should that not be convenient, I will not refuse to present my poor person in opposition to any gentleman who has served the King, which I always hold as a sort of letters of nobility in itself, and, therefore, would on no account decline the duello with such a person." "The King is much obliged to you, sir," said the dis- guised Prince, "for the honour you do his faithful subjects' "O, sir, I am scrupulous on that point— very scrupulous- When there is a Roundhead in question, I consult the Herald's books, to see that he is entitled to bear arms, as is Master Markham Everard, without which, I promise you, I had borne none of his cartel. But a cavalier is with me a gentleman, oif course— Be his birth ever so low, his loyalty has ennobled his condition." "It is well, sir," said the King. "This paper requests me to meet Master Everard at six to-morrow morning at the tree called the King's Oak.-I object neither to place nor time. He proffers the sword, at which, he says, we possess somp equality— I do not decline the wecnpon; for company, two gentlemen— I shall endeavour to procure myself an associate, and a suitable partner for you, sir, if you incline to join in the dance." "I kiss your hand, sir, and rest yours, under a sense of obligation," answered the envoy. "I thank you, sir," continued the King; "I will there- fore be ready at place and time, and suitably furnished; and I will either give your friend such satisfaction with my sword as he requires, or will render him such cause for not doing so as he will be contented with." "You will excuse me, sir," said Wildrake, "if my mind is too dull, under the circumstances, to conceive any alter- native that can remain betwixt two men of honour in such WHEN THE PRINCE WAS PRINCE INDEED 269 a case, excepting-sa-sa-!" He threw himself into a fencing position, and made a pass with his sheathed rapier but not directed towards the person of the King, whom he addressed. "Excuse me, sir," said Charles, "if I do not trouble your intellects with tY, consideration of a case which may not occur -But, for example, I may plead urgent employment on the part of the public/'-This he spoke in a low and mysterious tone of voice, which Wildrake appeared perfectly to comprehend; for he laid his forefinger on his nose with what he meant for a very intelligent and ap- prehensive nod. "Sir." said he, "if you be engaged in any aftair for the King, my friend shall have every reasonable de-ree of patience-Nay, I will fight him myself in your steadfmerely to stay his stomach, rather than you should be interrupted - And sir. If you can find room m your enterprise for a poor gentleman th.t has followed Lunsford and Goring, you have but to name day, time, and place of rendezvous ; for truly s.r, I am tired of the scald hat, cropped hair, and under- taker s cloak, with which my friend has bedizened me, and would willingly ruffle it out once more in the King's cause, when whether I be banged or hanged, I care not " '1 shall remember what you say, sir, should an opportunity occur, said the King; "and I wish his Majesty had many such subjects. I presume our business is now settled >" Uhen you shall have been pleased, sir, to give me a triHing scrap of writing, to serve for my credentials-for I'Jch, you know, is the custom- your written cartel hath Us written answer." "That, sir, will I presently do," said Charles, "and in good time-here are the materials." "And, sir," continued the envoy-"Ahi!-ahem!-if you ha\e interest in the household for a cr :■ y sack— I am .\ 270 COMMONWEALTH a man of few words, and am somewhat hoarse with much speaking— moreover, a serious business of this kind always makes one thirsty.— Besides, sir, to part with dry lips argues malice, which God forbid should exist in such an honourable conjuncture." "I do not boast much influence in the house, sir," s::i(l the King; "but if you would have the condescension to accept of this broad piece towards quenching your thirst at the George—" " Sir," said the cavalier, (for the times admitted of this strange species of courtesy, nor was Wildrake a man of such peculiar delicacy as keenly to dispute the matter,)— "I am once again beholden to you. But I see not how it consists with my honour to accept of such accommodation, unless you were to accompany and partake?" " Pardon me, sir," replied Charles, " my safety recommends that I remain rather private at present." "Enough said," Wildrake observed; "poor cavaliers niiist not stand on ceremony. I see, sir, you understand cutters law— when one tall fellow has coin, another must not le thirsty. I wish you, sir, a continuance of health and hap- piness until to-morrow, at the King's Oak, at six o'cloik." "Farewell, sir," said the King, and added, as Wildrake went down the stair whistling ' Hey for Cavaliers ! ' to which air his long rapier, jarring against the steps and banisters, bore no unsuitable burden-" Farewell, thou too just emblem of the state, to which war, and defeat, and despair, have reduced many a gallant gentleman." During the rest of the day, there occurred nothing i)ecu- liarly deserving of notice. Prudence urged to the Prince the -mportance of his own life to the future prosecution ofthegreatobject in whithhe had for the present miscarried— the restoration of monarchy in England, the rebuilding of the throne, the regaining tiie WHEN THE PRINCE WAS PRINCK INDEED .7. crown of his father, the avengin,, his death, and restoring to the,r fortunes and their country the numerous exUes wno were suffenng poverty and banishment on account o^ the.r attachment to his cause. Pride toorlr X " us and natural sense of dignity, displayed the unword ines " a I rmce descending to ..tual personal contlict with a su'l" by the hand c. a private :^^lem^'^^.tr^^^ counsellors. Nicholas and Hyde-what would his k'nd and w.se governor, the Marquis of Hertford, say to uch an act o rashness and folly? ^VouId it not be likeh to shake the allowance of the staid and prudent persons of thetaS pan,', -ce wherefore should they expose their lives and estates to raise to the government of a kingdom a voun. n>an who could not corrmand his own terfpe^^ To thi '",h" t f'^'' '""^ ---deration that e"en is I^cce would add double difficulties to his escape, whic aTead^ hrmtrhrt^' T™- '' -PP^nVsho^^ o/d fh LI? u ^ ^'"^' "'" ^'« antagonist, how did he know that he m,ght not seek revenge by de Ivering p to .government the Malignant. Louis Kerneguy iLose rea character could not ,. that case fail to be'dlscovered ^ I hese consideration, .trongly recommended to Charles hat he should clear himself of the challenge without fight g and the reservation under which he had accepted it affo ded h.m some opportunity of doing so Hut Passion also had her arguments, which she addressed aiterence. among gentlemen. With Enfilfshmen, she ur^cd I- c.u,a „,,„ lose interest by showing himself Sdy ! 1 ,1 372 COMMONWEALTH .« ; If' I i4i ,i instead of sheltering himself under his royal birth ami pretensions, to come frankly forward, and maintain wlut he had done or said on his own responsibility. In u Ircc nation, it seemed as if he would rather gain than lore in the public estimation by a conduct which could not but seem gallant and generous. Then a character for couraire was far more necessary to support his pretensions, th.in any other kind of reputation; and the lying under a chal lenge, without replying to it, might bring his spirit into question. What would Villiers and Wilmot say of an intri.L'iie, in which he had allowed himself to be shamefully battled by a country girl, and had failed to revenge himself on liis rival? The pasquinades which they would compose, the witty sarcasms which they would circulate on the occasion, would be harder to endure than the grave rebukes of Hertforci Hyde, and Nicholas. This reflection, added to the stuif - li youthful and awakened courage, at lengtl fixed his resolution, and he returned to Woodstock determined to keep his appointment, come of it what might. Perhaps there mingled with his resolution a secret belief that such a rencontre would not prove fatal. He was in the flower of his youth, active in all his exercises, and no way inferior to Colonel Everard in that of self-defence. .\t least such ideas might pass through his royal mind, as be hummed to himself a well-known ditty, which he had pickec! up during his residence in Scodaud— "A man may drink and not be drunk; A man may fight and not be slain; A man may kiss a bonnie lass; And yet be welcomed back again." The first person who appeared at the rendezvous was the gay cavalier Roger Wildrake. He was wrapped in his cloak, but had discarded his puritanic beaver, and wore in its stead a Spanish hat, with a feather and gilt WHEN THE PRINCE WAS PRINCE INDKKD ,73 hatband, all of which had encountered bad weather anri hard servu-e; but to make amends for the appearance " poverty by the show of pretension, the castor waTaccur . tely adjusted a ter what was rather profanelv called 'the d-me cut • used amon, the n.ore desperate .-nvalier He advanced hastily, and exclaimed aloud-" l-irst in 1 1 e .' 1 after all. by Jove, though I bilked Kverard in rde t .^e my mornmg draught.-It has done me much good' e added, smackmg his lips.-« Well. I suppose I should Irh the ground ere my principal comes up. whose I'resbyter an watch trudges as slow as his Presbyterian step " He took his rapiei- from under his cloak nnH c« ^ about to search the thickets around. :L?f;, rLfCr stepped tonvard on the esplanade, and bowed to Wi d' a " Master Lou.s Kerneguy." said Wildrake. pulling off h's" hat; but mstantly discovering his error, he added "B, no-I beg your pardon, sir-Fatter, shorter, older- I Kerneguys fnend, I suppose, with whom I hope to ha e a turn by and by.-And why not now. sir. before our pnncpals come up? just a snack to stay he orifice nfM" stomach, till the dinner is served, sir? What si "u' To open the orifice of the stomach more likelv or to .^■ve It a new one," said the unknown. " frue. sir." said Roger, who seemed now in his element- you say well-that is as thereafter may be.-ButconeTir' J-ou wear your face muffled. I grant you. it is honest men' ' ash,on at th,s unhappy time; the more is the pity But we to d afih . .7'"'' '°"' '"^' ^'°^' ^'°" ^hat you ha^e to deal wuh a gentleman, who honours the King and is a Al ih hT .'.?' ^"'"^ "'■'^^^^^^ Louis Kerneguy." All this wh.le. W.Idrake was busied undoing the cLps of his square-caped cloak. ^ 274 COMMONWEALTH u IS "Off— off, ye lendings," he said, "horrowinns I should more properly aill you— 'Via the curtain which shadow'd norgia!'" So saying, he threw the cloak from him and appcarc 1 in ciifrpo, in a most cavalier like doublet, of greasy crimsDn satin, pinked and slashed with what had been once white tiffany; breeches of the s.iTr.o; and nether-stocks, or. as wc now call them, stockings, darned in many places, and whidi, like those of I'oins, had been once peach-coloured. A pair of pumps, ill calculated for a walk through the dew, iinl a broad shoulderbelt of tarnished embroidery, completed his equipment. "Come, sir!" he exclaimed; "make haste, oft' with ymii slou,i,'h — Here I stand tight and true— as loyal a lad as ever stuck rapier through a Roundhead.— Come, sir, to your tools!" he continued; "we may have lialf ado/en thrusts before they come yet, and shame them for their tardiness.— Pshaw!" he exclaimed, in a most disappointed tone, wlicn the unknown, unfolding his cloak, showed a clerical (lri->; "Tush! it's but the parson after all!" Wildrake's respect for the Church, however, and his desire to remove one who might possibly interrupt a scene tc which he looked forward with peculiar satisfaction, induced him presently to assume another tone. "I beg pardon," he said, "my dear Doctor Rochediffc - I kiss the hem of your cassock— I do, by the thunderin-; Jove— I beg your pardon again.— But I am happy 1 have met with you— They are raving for your presence at the Lodtje- to marry, or christen, or bury, or confess, or something very urgent— For Heaven's sake, make haste!" " At the Lodge?" said the Doctor; "why, I left the Lodce this instant— I was there later, I am sure, than you could be, who came the Woodstock road. " "Well," replied Wildrake, " it is at Woodstock they want liB WHEN THE PRIXCE WAS PRINCE INDEED 275 you.-Rat it. did I wy the Lodge ?- No, no- Woodstock- Mi nc host cannot be hanged-his daughter marriod-hi, bastard christened, or his wife buried -without the assist- ance of a real ciergymun-Your Hoidenoughs wont do for them. - He s a true man, mine host; so, as you value your tunction, make haste." ^ "You will pardon me. Master Wildrake," said the Doctor- 1 wait for Master Louis Kerneguy." "The devil you do!" exclaimed Wildrake. "Whv I always knew the Scots could do nothing without th'eir mm.ster ; but d-n it, I never thought they put then, to this use nether. But I have known jolly customers in orders who understood to handle the sword as well as theii prayerbook. You know the purpose of our meeting. Doctor. Do you come only as a ghostly comforter-or "s a surireon. perhai,s-or do you ever take bilboa in hand?-Sa, sa!" Here he made u fencing demonstration with his sheathed rapier. "I have done so, sir, on necessary occasion," said Doctor Kochecliffe. "Good sir, let this stand for a necessary one," said Wild- rake. \ ou know my devotion for the Church. If a divine of your skill would do me the honour to exchange but three passes with me. I should think myself happy for ever." bir, said Rochecliffe smiling, "were there no other ob- jection to what you propose, I have not the means-I have no weapon. "What? you want the de quoi? that is unlucky indeed. But you have a stout cane in your hand-what hinders our tr>>ng a pass (my rapier being sheathed of course) until our l^T^rr "^- ''^^ ^"'"P^ "^ f"" °f this frost-dew; still aU the time they are stretching themselves i lor, J fancy \A \ 1 376 COMMONWEALTH Doctor, you are of my opinion, that the matter will not be a fight of cock-sparrows." "My business here is to make it, if possible, be no fi>.'ht at all," said the divine. "Now, rat me, Doctor, but that is too spiteful," said Wild rake; "and were it not for my respect for the Church, I could turn Presbyterian, to be revenged." "Stand back a little, if you please, sir," said the Doctor; "do not press forward in that direction."— As Wildrake, in the agitation of his movements, induced by his disap- pointment, approached the spot whence the doctor had emerged. "And wherefore not, I pray you. Doctor?" said the cavalier. But on advancing a step, he suddenly stopped short, and muttered to himself, with a round oath of astonishment, " A petticoat in the coppice, by all that is reverend, and at tliis hour in the morning— W/uTa—eTif—ew/ "—He gave vent to his surprise in a long low interjectional whistle; then turn- ing to the Doctor, with his finger on the side of his nose, " You're sly. Doctor, d— d sly ! But why not give me a hint of your — your commodity there -your contraband goods? Gad, sir, I am not a man to expose the eccentricities of the Church." "Sir," said Doctor RocheclifTe, "you are impertinent; and if time served, and it were worth my while, I would chastise you." And the Doctor, who had served long enough in the wars to have added some of the qualities of a captain of horse to those of a divine, actually raised his cane, to the infinite delight of the rake, whose respect for the Church was by no means able to subdue his 1 ./e of mischief. "Nay, Doctor," said he, " if you wield your weapon back- sword fashion, in that way, and raise it as high as your head, WHEN THE PRINCE WAS PRINCE INDEED 277 I shall be through you in a twinkling." So saying he made a pass with his sheathed rapier, not precisely at the Doctor's person, but in that direction; when Rochecliffe, chans^in- the direction of his cane from the broadsword guard to that of the rapier, made the cavalier's sword sprin- ten yards out of his hand, with all the dexterity of my friend Francalanza. At this moment both the principal parties appeared on the field. Everard exclaimed angrily to Wildrake, "Is this your friendship? In Heaven's name, what m.ke you in that fools jacket, and playing the pranks of a jack-pudding?" while his worthy second, somewhat crestfallen, held down his head, like a boy caught in roguery, and went to pick up his weapon, stretching his head, as he passed, into the coppice, to obtain another glimpse, if possible, of the con- cealed object of his curiosity. h K u''"'',,'",'^^ meantime, still more surprised at what he beheld, called out on his part-" What! Doctor Rochecliffe become literally one of th . church militant, and tilting with my friend Cavalier Wil. • .e? May I use the freedom to ask him to withdraw, as Colonel Everard and I have some private business to settle?" It was Doctor Rochecliffe's cue, on this important occasion, to have armed himself with the authority of his sacred office and used a tone of interference which might have overawed even a monarch and made him feel that his monitor spoke by a warrant higher than his own. But the indiscreet latitude t- K u ^T/r"" '° ^'' °^" P^««'°"' ^"d the levity in which he had been detected, were very unfavourable to his assuming that superiority, to which so uncontrollable a spirit as that of Charies. wilful as a prince, and capricious as a wit was at all likelv to submit. The Doctor did, however endeavour to rally his dignity, and replied, with the gravest' and at the same time the most respectful, tone he could I 'M 278 COMMONWEALTH assume, that he also had business of the most urgent nature, which prevented him from complying with Master Kerneguy's wishes, and leaving that spot. "Excuse this untimely interruption," said Charles, takini; off his hat, and bowing to Colonel Everard, "which I will immediately put an end to." Everard gravely returned his salute, and was silent. "Are you mad, Doctor Rochecliffe?" said Charles— "or are you deaf?-or have you forgotten your mother-tongue? I desired you to leave this place." "I am not mad," said the divine, rousing up his resolution, and regaining the natural firmness of his voice— "I would prevent others from being so; I am not deaf— I would pray others to hear the voice of reason and religion; I have not forgotten my mother-tongue— but I have come hither to speak the language of the Master of kings and princes." "To fence with broomsticks, I should rather suppose," said the King— "Come, Doctor Rochecliffe, this sudden fit of assumed importance befits you as little as your late frolic. You are not, I apprehend, either a Catholic priest or a Scotch Mass-John to claim devoted obedience from your hearers, but a Church of England man, subject to the rules of that Communion-and to its Head." In speaking the last words, the King sunk his voice to a low and impres- sive whisper. Everard observing this, drew back, the natural generosity of his temper directing him to avoid overhearing private discourse, in which the safety of the speakers might be deeply concerned. They continued, however, to observe great caution in their forms of expression. "Master Kerneguy," said the clergyman, "it is not I who assume authority or control over your wishes-God forbid; I do but tell you what reason, Scripture, religion, and morality, alike prescribe for your rule of conduct." "And I, Doctor," said the King, smiling, and pointing WHEN THE PRINCE WAS PRINCE INDEED 279 to the unlucky cane, "will take your example rather than your precept. If a reverend clergyman will himself fight a bout at single-stick, what right can he have to interfere in gentlemen's quarrels ?-Come, sir, Tem(fve yourself, and do not let your present obstinacy cancel former obligations." "Bethink yourself," said the divine,-" I can say one word which will prevent all this." "Do it," replied the King, "and in doing so belie the whole tenor and actions of an honourable life-abandon the principles of your Church, and become a perjured traitor and an apostate, to prevent another person from discharging his duty as a gentleman! This were indeed killing your friend, to prevent the risk of his running himself into danger. Let the Passive Obedience, which is so often in vour mouth and no doubt in your head, put your feet for once into motion, and step aside for ten minutes. Within that space your assistance may be needed, either as body-curer or soul-curer." "Nay then," said Doctor RochecliflFe, "I have but one argument left." While this conversation was carried on apart, Everard had almost forcibly detained by his own side his follower, Wildrake, whose greater curiosity and lesser delicacy would otherwise have thrust him forward, to get, if possible, into the secret. But when he saw the Doctor turn into the cop- pice, he whispered eagerly to Everard -"A gold Carolus to a commonwealth farthing, the Doctor has not only come to preach a peace, but has brought the principal conditions along with him!" Everard made no answer; he had already unsheathed his sword; and Charles hardly saw Rochecliffe's back fairly turned, than he lost no time in following his example. But ere they had done more than salute each other, with the usual courteous flourish of their weapons, Doctor Rochecliff-e 28o COMMONWEALTH again stood between them, leading in his hand Alice Lee, her garments dank with dew, and her long hair heavy with moisture, and totally uncurled. Her face was extremely pale, but it w as the paleness of desperate resolution, not of fear. There was a dead pause of astonishment-the combatants rested on their swords- and even the forwardness of Wild- rake only vented itself in half-suppressed ejaculations, a.\ "Well done. Doctor- this beats the 'parson among the pease'— No less than your patron's daughter-and Mistress Alice, whom I thought a very snowdrop, turned out a dos- violet after all— a Lindabrides, by heavens, and altogether one of ourselves ! " Excepting these unheeded mutterings, Alice was the first to speak. "Master Everard," she said-" Master Kemeguy, you are surprised to see me here— Yet, why should I not tell the reason at once? Convinced that I am, however guiltlessly, the unhappy cause of your misunderstanding, I am too much interested to prevent fatal consequences to pause upon any step which may end it.— Master Kemeguy, have my wishes, my entreaties, my prayers -have your noble thoughts— the recollections of your own high duties, no weight with you in this matter? Let me entreat you to consult reason, religion, and common sense, and return your weapon." "I am obedient as an Eastern slave, madam," answered Charles, sheathing his sword; "but I assure you, the matter about which you distress yourself is a mere trifle, wliirh will be much better settled betwixt Colonel Everard «id myself in five minutes, than with the assistance of the whole Convocation of the Church, with a female parliament to assist their reverend deliberations.— Mr. Everard, will you oblige me by walking a little farther?- We must change ground, it seems." WHEN THE PRINCE WAS PRINCE INDEED 281 "I am ready to attend you, sir," said Everard, who had sheathed his sword as soon as his antagonist did so. "I have then no interest with you, sir," said Alice, con- tinuing to address the King -"Do you not fear I should use the secret in my power to prevent this affair going to extremity? Think you this gentleman, who raises his hand against you, if he knew"— "If he knew that I were Lord Wilmot, madam, you would say?-Accident has given him proof to that effect v/ith which he is already satisfied, and I think you would find It difficult to induce him to embrace a different opinion." Ahcp paused, and looked on the King with great indig- nation, the following words dropping from her mouth by intervals, as if they burst forth one by one in spite of feel- ings that would have restrained them-" Cold-selfish- un- grateful-unkind! -Woe to the land which" Here she paused with marked emphasis, then added-" which shall number thee, or such as thee, among hernobles and rulers! " "Nay, fair Alice," said Charles, whose good-nature could not but feel the severity of this reproach, though too slighdy to make all the desired impression, "You are too unjust to me-too partial to a happier man. Do not call me un- kind; I am but here to answer Mr. Everard's summons I could neither decline attending, nor withdraw now I am here, without loss of honour; and my loss of honour would be a disgrace which must extend to many-I cannot fly from Mr. Everard-it would be too shameful. If he abides by his message, it must be decided as such affairs usually are. If he retreats or yields it up, I will, for your sake, wave punctilio. I will not even ask an apology for the trouble It has afforded me, but let all pass as if it were the consequence of some unhappy mistake, the grounds of which shall remain on my part unenquired into.-This I will do for your sake, and it is much for a man of honour 282 COMMONWEALTH |: to condescend so far— You know that the condescension from me in particular is great indeed. Then do not call me ungenerous, or ungrateful, or unkind, since I am ready to do all, which, as a man, I can do, and more perha.js than as a man of honour I ought to do." "Do you hear this, Markham Everard?" exclaimed Alice — "do you hear this?— The dreadful option is left entirely at your disposal. You were wont to be temperate in pas sion, religious, forgiving— will jv. , for a mere punctilio, drive on this private and unchristian broil to a murderous extremity? Believe me, if you now, contrary to all the better principles of your life, give the reins to your passions, the consequences may be such as you will rue for your lifetime, and even, if Heaven have not mercy, rue after your life is finished." Markham Everard remained for a moment gloomily silent, with his eyes fixed on the ground. At length he looked up, and answered her—" Alice, you are a sbldier's daughter — a soldiers sister. All your relations, even including one whom you then entertained some regard for, have been made soldiers by these unhappy discords. Yet you have seen them tike the field -in some instances on contrary sides, to do their duty where their principles called them, without manifesting this extreme degree of interest. Answer me— and your answer shall decide my conduct— Is this youth, so short while known, already of more value to you than those dear connexions, father, brother, and kinsman, whose departure to battle you saw with comparative indiffer- ence?— Say this, and it shall be enough— I leave the ground, never to see you or this country again." "Stay, Markham, stay; and believe me when I say, that if I answer your question in affirmative, it is because Master Kemeguy's safety comprehends more, much more, than that of any of those you have mentioned." WHEN THE PRINCE WAS PRINCE INDEED 283 "Indeed! I did not know a coronet had been so superior in value to the crest of a private gentleman," saidEverard- "yet I have heard that many women think so " ' .u " 1°.." ^Pf^'^I;^"^ '"^ ^'"i^^'" s^id Alice, perplexed between the difficulty of so expressing herself as to prevent immediate mischief, and at the same time anxious to combat the jealousy and disarm the resentment which she saw arising in the bosom of her lover. But she found no words fine enough to draw the distinction, without leading to a dis- covery of the King's actual character, and perhaps, in consequence, to his destruction. "Markham," she said have compassion on me. Press me not at this moment- believe me, the honour and happiness of my father of my brother, and of my whole family, are interested in Master Kemeguy's safety-are inextricably concerned in this matter resting where it now does." "Oh, ay-I doubt not;- saidEverard; "the House of Lee ever looked up to nobility, and valued in their connexions the fantastic loyalty of a courtier beyond the sterling and honest patriotism of a plain country gentleman. For them the thing is m course. But on your part, you. Alice-OI on your part, whom I have loved so deariy-who has suf- fered me to think that my affection was not unrepaid-Can the attractions of an empty title, the idle court compli- ments of a mere man of quality, during only a few hours lead you to prefer a libertine lord to such a heart as mine>"' "No, no-beheve me. no," said Alice, in the extremiiy of distress. •'Put your answer, which seems so painful, in one word and say for whose safety it is you are thus deeply interested > '' For both-for both," said Alice. "That answer will not serve, Alice," answered Everard- here ,s no room for equality. I must and will know to what I have to trust. I understand not the paltering, which I I 1 --a 1 284 COMMONWEALTH I: makes a maiden unwilling to decide betwixt two suitors; nor would I willingly impute to you the vanity that cannot remain contented with one lover at once." The vehemence of Everard's displeasure, when he sup- posed his own long and sincere devotion lightly forgotten, amid the addresses of a profligate courtier, awakened the spirit of Alice Lee, who had a portion in her temper of the lion-humour that wa^ characteristic of her family. "If I am thus misinterpreted," she said— "if I am not judged worthy of the least confidence or candid construe tion, hear my declaration, and my assurance, that, strange as my words may seer^, they are, when truly interpreted, such as do you no wrong.— I tell you -I tell all present— and I tell this gentleman himself, who well knows the sense in which I speak, that his life and safety are, or ought to be, of more value to me than those of any other man in the kingdom— nay, in the world, be that other who he will." These words she spoke in a tone so firm and decided, as admitted no farther discussion. Charles bowed low and with gravity, but remained silent. Everard, his features agitated by the emotions which his pride barely enabled him to suppress, advanced to his antagonist, and said, in a tone which he vainly endeavoured to make a firm one, " Sir, you heard the lady's declaration, with such feelings, doubt- less of gratitude, as the case eminently demands. As her poor kinsman, and an unworthy suitor, sir, I presume to yield my interest in her to you; and, as 1 will never be the means of giving her pain, I trust you will not think I act unworthily in retracting the letter which gave you the trouble of attending this place at this hour.— Alice," he said, turning his head towards her, "Farewell, Alice, at once, and for ever!" The poor young lady, whose adventitious spirit had almost deserted her, attempted to repeat the word farewell, but, Meanwhile, h dL ™d P^TT^il f-r a burden, in silence 1„ , ..L ^ /""'' ''^'' beheld the whole andthS hU rr.h^ ^/Cs" It^ "' "^ """°"''''- depart, he broke ou, inZ? , ^ ' '""""« "' "^k «> fahl this must not b''t'''' '''"''''''•. 'J'"™'"'""- "Odds- slowly retirtaeEverlrd ..„ ir """" '' """""k "« :« he well knew how .a." t ZsTre^OnTZ^' took hold of his ™Z L I """'«'>"'« "> be hostile, right on the hil n^?.i , * *' '"' I""""' ""d Wd the »n?er is a, le« ° IT" "' "" '""^^ ^^l; for « -id to t ^iZ ""* *" '° disappointment as pity ^oi^eltveraTr:' r' "'"'' "•'"" '^"°°' ''^ "— ^verard, 1 am Charles Stewart I" Y Iff a86 COMMONWEALTH ^verard recoiled in the greatest surprise, and next ex- claimed, " Impossible- it cannot be! -The King of Scots has escaped from Bristol.— My Lord Wilmot, your talents for intrigue are well known— but this will not pass upon me. ' "The King of Scots, Master Everard," replied Charles- " since you are so pleased to limit his sovereignty— at any rate, the Eldest Son of the late Sovereign of Britain, is now before you; therefore it is impossible he could hiue escaped from Bristol. Doctor Rochecliffe shall be my vou- cher, and will tell you, moreover, that V/ilmot is of a fair complexion, and light hair— mine, you may see, is swart as a raven." Rochecliffe, seeing what was passing, abandoned Ali(c to the care of WiWrake, whose extreme delicacy in tlie attempts he made to bring her back to life, formed an amiable contrast to his usual wildness, and occupied him so much, that he remained for the moment ignorant of the disclosure in which he would have been so much interested. As for Doctor Rochecliffe, he came forward, wringing his hands in all the demonstration of extreme anxiety, and with the usual exclamations attending such a state. "Peace, Doctor Rochecliffe I" said the King, with ,i complete self-^possession as indeed became a prince- A'e are in the hands, I am sausfied, of a man of honour. Master Everard must be pleased in finding only a fugitive prince in the person in whom he thought he had discovered a successful rival. He cannot but be aware of the feelings which prevented me from *aking advantage of the cover which this young lady's devoted loyalty afforded me, at the risk of her o i happiness. He is the party who is to profit by my candour; and certainly I have a right to expect that my condition, already indifferent enough, shall not be rendered worse by his becoming privy to it, under such WHEN THE PRINCE WAS PRINCE INDEED 287 circumstances. At any rate, the avowal is made; and it is for Colonel Everard to consider how he is to conduct himself." "Oh, your Majesty!-my Liege!-my Kingi-my roval Pnncel" e.xclaimed Wildrake, who, at length discovering what was passing, had crawled on his knees, and seizin- the King's hand, was kissing it, more like a child mumbling gingerbread, or like a lover devouring the yielded hand of his mistres., than in the manner in which such salutations pass at court-" If my dear friend Mark Everard should prove a dog on this occasion, rely on me I will cut his throat on the spot, were I to do the same for myself the moment afterwards ! " "Hush, hush, my good friend and loyal subject," said the King, "and compose yourself; for though I am obliged to put on the Prince for a moment, we have not privacy or safety to receive our subjects in King Cambyses' vein." Everard, who had stood for a time utterly confounded a^^o'^e aj length like a man from a dream. ''Sire," he said, bowing low, and wth profound deference, If I do not offer you the homage ot a subject with knee and sword, it is because God, by whom kings reign, has denied you for the present the power of ascending your throne without rekindling civil war. For your safety being endangered by me, let not such an imagination for an instant cross your mind. Had I not respected your person - were I not bound to you for the candour with which your noble avowal has prevented the misery of my future life, your misfortunes would have rendered your person as sacred, so far as I can protect it, as it could be esteemed by the most devoted Royalist in the kingdom. If your plans are soundly considered, and securely laid, think that all Which IS now passed is but a dream. If they are in such a state that I can aid them, saving my duty to the Com- '} 288 COMMONWEALTH ^1 ■i ^ i ■]■> monwealth, which will permit me to be privy to no schemes of actual violence, your Majesty may command my services. "It may be I may be troublesome to you, sir," said the King; "for my fortunes art not such as to permit me td reject even the must limited offers of assistance ; but if I can, I will dispense with applying to you— I would not willingly put any man's compassion at war with his sense of duty on my account.— Doctor, I think inere will be no farther tilting to-day, either with sword or cane; so we may as well return to the Lodge, ind leave these"- looking at Alice and Everard— "who may have more to say in explanation." "No— no!" exclaimed Alice, who was now perfectly come to *^erself, arid partly by her own observation, and partly from the report of Dr. Rochecliffe, comprehended all tV^i had taken place— "My cousin Everard and I have V! -..ling to explain; he will forgive me for having riddled 'vich him when I dared not speak plainly; and I forgive him for having read my riddle wrong. But my father has my promise— we must not correspond or converse for the present— I return instantly to the Lodge and he to Wood stock, unless you, sire," bowing to the King, "command his duty otherwise.— Instant to the town, cousin Markhani; and if danger should approach, give us warning." Everard would have delayed her departure, would have excused himself for his unjust suspicion, would have said a thousand things; but she would not listen to him, saying, for all other answer,— " Farewell, Markham, till God send better days!" " She is an angel of truth and beauty," said Roger Wildrake; "and I, like a blasphemous heretic, called her a LindabridesI —But has your Majesty— craving your pardon— no commands for poor Hodge Wildrake, who will blow out his own or any other man's brains in England, to do your Grace a pleasure ? " wuks niK i>rinc:f n\ as prfnck indff.d ^a, hastily, saul Charles. smilinK; "such brains as Lis are rare, and should not be rashly .lispersed. as the like niay not l,e easily collected. NVe recommend him o l.e s.lent and ,.rudent-to tilt no more with lovd r eve," sa.d the cavalier; "and I conjure you not to kee mahce agamst me on account of the foolery you wot or "for r tl' TrTf °"' ^'P'^'" ^^•Idrake." said the Doctor, for I thmk I had the best of it." "Well then, Doctor. I forgive you on my part- and [ ^Jh'Ie the doctor and soldier thus spoke together Charles took leave of Everard, (who remained uncovered wh le h! spoke to him,) with his usual grace-"I need no. h nu longer be jealous of me," said the K ng 'for n '°" you will scarce think of a matd betwivt' A i 'T""' 290 commonwp:alth my sense of her merit did not need this last distinguished proof of her truth and loyalty. I saw enough of her from her answers to some idle sallies of gallantry, to know with what a lofty character she is endowed. Mr. Everard, her happiness I see depends on you, and I trust you will be the careful guardian of it. If we can take any obstacle out of the way of your joint happiness, be assured we will use our influence.— Farewell, sir; if we cannot be better friends, do not at least let us entertain harder or worse thoughts of each other than we have now." There was something in the manner of Charles that was extremely affecting; something, too, in his condition as a fugitive in the kingdom which was his own by inheritance, that made a direct Appeal to Everard's bosom— though in contradiction to the dictates of that policy which he judged it his duty to pursue in the distracted circumstances of the country. He remained, as we have said, uncovered; and in his manner testified the highest expression of reverence, up to the point when such might seem a symbol of alle- giance. He bowed so low as almost to approach his lips to the hand of Charles— but he did not kiss it.— "I would rescue your person, sir," he said, "with the purchase of my own life. More"— He stopped short, and the King took up his sentence were it broke off- "More you cannot do," said Charles, "to maintain an honourable consistency- hut what you have said is enough. You cannot render homage to my proffered hand, as that of a sovereign, but you will not prevent my taking yours as a friend, if you allow me to call myself so-I am sure, as a well-wisher at least." The generous soul of Everard was touched— He took t'le King's hand, and pressed it to his lips. 'Oh!" he said, "were better times to come—" "Bind yourself to nothing, dear Everard," said the good natured Prince, partaking his emotion— "We reason ill while WHEN THE PRINCE WAS PRINCE INDEED 291 our feelings are moved. I will recruit no man to his loss nor will I have my fallen fortunes involve those of others' because they have humanity enough to pity my preseni condition. If better times come, why we will meet again and I hope to our mutual satisfaction. If not as your future father-in-law would say," (a benevolent smile came over his face, and accorded not unmeetly with his glistenin- eyes,)— "If not, this parting was well made." '^ Everard turned away with a deep bow, almost chokin- under contending feelings ; the uppermost of which was a sense of the generosity with which Charles, at his own im- mment nsk, had cleared away the darkness that seemed about to overwhelm his prospects of happiness for life- mixed with a deep sense of the perils by which he was environed. Sir \Valter Scott, Woodstock. chart.es ir WHEN THE PRINCE WAS KINO The royal barge paused at the Tower; and, accom- panied by a laugliing train of ladies and of courtiers, the gay monarch made the echoes of the old prison-towers ring with the unwonted sounds of mirth and revelry. As they ascended from the river-side to the centre of the build- ing, where the fine* old keep of William the Conqueror, called the White Tower, predominates over the exterior defences. Heaven only knows how many gallant jests, good or bad, were run on the comparison of his Majesty's State prison to that of Cupid, and what killing similes were drawn between the ladies' eyes and the guns of the fortress, which, spoken with a fashionable congee, and listened to with a smile from a fair lady, formed the fine conversa- tion of the day. This gay swarm of flutterers did not, however, attend close on the King's person, though they had accompanied him upon his party on the river. Charles, who often formed manly and sensible resolutions, though he was too easily diverted from them by indolence or pleasure, had some desire to make himself personally acquainted with the state of the military stores, arms, etc., of which the Tower was then, as now, the magazine; and, although he had brought with him the usual number of his courtiers, only three or four attended him on the scrutiny which he intended, Whilst, therefore, the rest of the train amused themselves as they might in other parts of the Tower, the King, accom- panied by the Dukes of Buckingham, Ormond, and one WHKN THE PRIXCE WAS KING ^^^ or two others, walked through the well-known hall, in which .s preserved the most splendid magazine of arms in the world, and wh.ch. though far from exhibiting its present extraordinary state of perfection, was even then an arsenal worthy of the great nation to which it belonged Ihe Duke of Ormond, well known for his services during the great C>vil War, was at present rather on cold terms wnh his sovereign, who nevertheless asked his advice on many occasions, and who required it on the present amongst others, when ,t was not a little feared that the Parliament m the,r zeal for the Protestant religion, might desire to take the magazmes of arms and ammunition under their own exclusive orders. While Charles sadly hinted at such a termmation of the popular jealousies of the period and Cscussed with Ormond the means of resisting, or eviding -t. Buckmgham, falling a little behind, amused himself «^^^ nd.culmg the antiquated appearance and embarrassed ?on T." f , ''' ''^ "'■■'"'• ^^-'^ ^"'^"^^d °" the occa. Mon The duke prosecuted his raillery with the greater actu..ty, that he found the old man. though restrained )> the place and presence, was rather upon the whole esty. and disposed to afford what sportsmen call /it h.s persecutor The various pieces of ancient armour vith h,ch the wall U.S covered, afforded the principal source the dukes w.t, as he insisted upon knowing from the old man, who he said, could best remember matters from the days of Kmg Arthur downwards at the least the hT tory of the different warlike weapons, and anecdcJef of 1 e 1 attles m wh.ch they had been wielded. The old man ob vously suffered, when he was obliged, by repeated qVes" -ons. to tell the legends (often sufficiently I"Z) Zl emphlsrof hT" •'"' ' '*'^''"'"' ^"^ augmenting the emphasis of h,s voice, as was and is the prevailling fashion 294 CHARLES II ilfJi^ of these warlike ciceroni, it was scarcely possible to extort from him a single word concerning those topics on which their information is usually overflowing. " Do you know, my friend," said the duke to him at last, "I begin to change my mind respecting you. I supposed you must have served as a Yeoman of the Guard since bluff King Henry's time, and expected to hear something? from you about the Field of the Cloth of Gold,— and I thought of asking you the colour of Anne BuUen's breast- knot, which cost the Pope three kingdoms ; but I am afraid you are but a novice in such recollections '^f love and chiv- alry. Art sure thou didst not creep into thy warlike office from some dark shop vn the Tower Hamlets, and that thou hast not converted an unlawful measuring-yard into tTiat glorious halberd?— I warrant thou canst not even tell one whom this piece of antique panoply pertained to?" The duke pointed at random to a cuirass which \mx\^ amongst others, but was rather remarkable from being better cleansed. "I should know that piece of iron," said the warder bluntly, yet with some change in his voice; "for I have k lown a man within side of it who would not have endured half the impertinence I have heard spoken to-day." The tone of the old man, as well as the words, attracted the attention of Charles and the Duke of Ormond, who were only two steps before the speaker. They both stopped, and turned round; the former saying at the same time,— "How now, sirrah!— what answers are these?— What man do you speak of?" "Of one who is none now," said the warder, "whatever he may have been." "The old man surely speaks of himself," said the Duke of Ormond, closely^ examining the countenance of the warder, which he in vain endeavoured to turn away. "1 WHEN THE PRINCE WAS KING 295 am sure I remember these features -Are not you my old friend Major Coleby?" " I wish your Grace's memory had been less accurate," said the old man, colouring deeply, and fixing his eyes on the ground. The king was greatly shocked.-" Good God!" he said, "the gallant Major Coleby, who joined us with his four sons and a hundred and fifty men at Warrington I— And is this all we could do for an old Worcester friend?" The tears rushed thick into the old man's eyes as he said, in broken accents, "Never mind me, sire; I am well enough here— a worn-out soldier rusting among old armour. Where one old Cavalier is better, there are twenty worse.- I am sorry your Majesty should know anything of it, since it grieves you." With that kindness which was a redeeming point of his character, Charles, while the old man was speaking, took the partisan from him with his own hand, and put it into tliat of Buckingham, saying, " What Coleby's hand has borne, can disgrace neither yours nor mine,-and you owe him this atonement. Time has been with him, that, for less i^rovo- cation, he would have laid it about your ears." The duke bowed deeply, but coloured with resentment, and took an immediate opportunity to place the weapon carelessly against a pile of arms. The King dil not observe a contemptuous motion, which, perhaps, would not have pleased him, being at the moment occupied with the veteran whom he exhorted to lean upon him, as he conveyed him' to a seat, permitting no other person to assist him. "Rest there," he said, "my brave old friend; and Charles Stuart must be poor indeed, if you wear that dress an hour Ioniser -Vou look very paie, my good Coleby, to have had so much colour a few minutes since. I5e not vexed at what iiuckmgham says, no one minds !,is folly.-- Vou mok worse 296 CHARLES II and worse. Come, come, you arc too much hurried l)y this meeting. Sit still— do not rise— do not attempt to kneel. I command you to repose yourself till I have made the round of these apartments." The old cavalier stooped his head in token of acquies- cence in the command of his sovereign, but he raised it not again. The tumultuous agitation of the moment had been too much for spirits which had been long in a state of depression, and health which was much decayed. When the King and his attendants, after half-an-hour's absence, returned to the spot where they had left the veteran, they found him dead, and already cold, in the attitude of one who has fallen easily -asleep. The King was dreadfully shocked; and it was with a low and faltering voice that he directed the bodj', in due time, to be honourably buried in the chapel of the Tower. He was then silent, until he attained the steps in front of the arsenal, where the party in attendance upon his person began to assemble at his approach, along with some other persons of respectable appearance, whom curiosity had attracted. "This is dreadful," said the King, "We must find some means of relieving the distresses and rewarding the fidelity of our suflFering followers, or posterity will cry fie upon our memory." "Your Majesty has had often such plans agitated in your Council," said Buckingham. "True, George," said the King. "I can safely say it is not my fault. I have thought of it for years." "It cannot be too well considered," said Buckingham; "besides, every year makes the task of relief easier." "True," said the Duke of Ormond, "by diminishing the number of sufferers. Here is poor old Coleby will no longer be a burden to the crown." " Vou are too severe, my Lord of Ormond," said the "THE OLD CAVALIER STOOPED HIS HEAD— BUT RAISED IT NOT AGAIN," ^«« /. »96 WHKN THK PRINCK was KING ,97 Kin.?, "and should respect the feehngs you trespass on You cannot suppose that we would have permitted this poor man to hold such a situation, had we known of he circumstance? ' "For Gods sake, then, sire ' said the Duke ofOrmond turn your eyes, which have just rested on the corpse of one old friend, upon the distresses of others. Here is the vahant old S.r Geoffrey Peveril of the Peak, who fought through the whole war. wherever blows were going, and was the last man. I believe, in England, who laid down h^ arms-Here is h.s son. of whom I have the highest a. counts ^ a ga lant of spirit, accomplishments, and courage-Here il' nVehr?!' «°-^.°f I^-'-by-I'or pitys sake, interfere m behalf of these victims, whom the folds of this hydra-plot t'fi '?"f' ' " °'"'''' ^° ""^'^ ^^^"^ *- death-rebuke the fiends that are seeking to devour their lives, and disan! pent the harpies that are gaping for their property. Th s IrTto b?h"'""r'' ''' ""'^""'""^'^ ^^'"''>' ^^'her and son are to be brought upon trial for crimes of which they are as guiltless, I boldly pronounce, as any who stand in ths presence. For GodV sake. sire, let us hope that shm'd the prejudices of the people condemn them' as it ha d"' atdleHr;:" " '^^ '''' ^" ^^'^^^ ^'^ ^'-^■^-- The King locked, as he really was. exceedingly perplexed -Buckingham, between whom and Ormond there cx'ted a constant and almost mortal quarrel, interfered to effect a Xce " H ^'^ ''^"•^- "' °"'- ^^^-^y'^ -. -' '-c- Duke of O Z' "'"'^ ""'''' ''■^' ^'^^^^•^^' -hi'e the ,^t °[,0""°"d IS near your person. He has his sleeve cut of uined r'' '"'""' ^'^^ ""' ""^y ^^-y« have store of rumed cavaliers stowed in it to produce at demand rare shanks ;' """-: "'' ''•^'"">' "°-^- ^^^^ --<^«. «Pind e shanks and merciless histories of EdgehiU and Naseby " 398 CHARLES II "My sleeve is, Idaresay, of an antique cut," said Ormond, looking full at the duke; "but I pin neither bravoes nor ruffians upon it, my Lord of Buckingham, as I see fastened to coats of the new mode." "That is a little too sharp for our presence, my lord," said the King. "Not if I make my words good," said Ormond.— "My Lord of Buckingham, will you name the man you spoke to as you left the boat?" "I spoke to no one," said the duke hastily— " Nay, I mistake, I remember a fellow whispered in my ear, that one, who I thought had left London, was still lingering in town. A person whom I had business with." "Was yon the messenger?" said Ormond, singling out from the crowd, who stodd in the court-yard, a tall, dark- looking man, muffled in a large cloak, wearing a broad shadowy black beaver hat, with a long sword of the Spanisli fashion. When Buckingham's eyes had followed the direction of Ormond's finger, he could not help blushing so deeply as to attract the King's attention. " What new frolic is this, George? " he said. " Gentlemen, bring that fellow forward. On my life, a truculentlookin<; caitiff.— Hark ye, friend, who are you? If an honest man, Nature has forgot to label it upon your countenance.— Docs none here know him? 'With every symptom of a knave complete, If he be honest, he's a devilish cheat.'" "He is well known to many, sire," replied Ormond; "and that he walks in this area with his neck safe, and his limbs unshackled, is an instance, amongst many, that we live under the sway of the most merciful prince of Europe." WHKX TIIK PRIXCF WAS KING 299 "Oddsfish! who is the man, my lor. I Duke?" said the KmK "Vour Grace talks mysteries l!iirklnj,'ham blushes —an. rogue himself is dumb. ' '"Fhat honest gentlematv please your Majesty," replied the Duke of Ormond, "whose modesty makes him mute though ,t cannot make him blush, is the notorious Colonel Wood, as he calls himself, whose attempt to possess hi.n- self of your Majesty's royal crown took place at no very distant date, in this very Tower of I.ondon." ^ "That exploit is not easily forgotten," said the King; but that the fellow lives, shows your (Jraces clemency as well as mme. " ^^ "I cannot deny that I was in his hands, sire." said Ormond, and had certainly been murderec \n him, had he chosen to take my life on the spr,t, instead of destining me-I thank hnn for the honour-to be hanged at Tyburn. I had certamly been sped, if he hud thought me worth knife or pistol, or anything short of the cord.- Look at him, sire! f the rascal dared, he would say at this moment, like '»r '" ^^^ P'^>'' '"«' ^«' I «o"'d I had done it!'" \\hy, oddsfish!" answered the King, "he hath a villain- ous sneer, my lord, which seems to say as much; but my lord Duke, we have pardoned him, and so has your (Jrace " ^^ It would ill have become me," said the Duk ot Ormond to have been severe in prosecuting an atumpt on mv poor life, when your Majesty was pleased to remit his more outrageous and insolent attempt upon your royal crown li.it I must conceive it as a piece of supreme insolence on he part of this bloodthirsty bully, bv whomsoever he mav be now backed, to appear in the Tower, which was the theatre of one of his villainies, or before me. who was well- nigh the victim of another." ^ "Jt_ shall be amended in future," said the King. "Hark >c. sirrah Blood, if you again prcsiuiie to thrj.st yourself z 3C0 CHARLES U in the way you have done but now, I will have the hang- man's knife and your knavish ears made acquainted." Blood bowed, and, with a coolness of impudence which did his nerves great honour, he said he had only come to the Tower accidentally, to communicate with a particular friend on business of importance. "My lord Duke of Buckingham," he said, "knew he had no other intentions. ' "(let you gone, you scoundrelly cut-throat," said the duke, a< much impatient of Colonel Blood's claim of acquaint ance, as a townrake of the low and blackguard compani- ons of his midnight rambles, when they accost him in day- light amidst better company; "if you dare to (luote my name again, I will have you thrown into the Thames." Blood, thus repulsed, turned round with the most insolent composure, and walked away down from the parade, all men looking at him, as at some strange and monstrous prodigy, so much was he renowned for daring and desperate villainy. Some even followed him, to have a better survey of the notorious Colonel Blood, like the smaller tribe of birds which keep fluttering round an owl when he appears in the light of the sun. But as, in the latter case, these thoughtless flutterers are careful to Keep out of reach of the beak and claws of the bird of Minerva, so none of those who followed and gazed on Blood as somethinj^ ominous, cared to bandy looks with him, or to endure and return the lowering and deadly glances which he shot from time to time on those who pressed nearest to him. He stalked on in this manner, like a daunted, yet sullen wolf, afraid to stop, yet unwilling to fly, until he reached the Traitor's Gate, and, getting on board a sculler which waited for him, he disappeared from their eyes. Charles would fain have obliterated all recollection of his appearance, by the observation, "It were shame that such a reprobate scoundrel should be the subject of dis- WHKN THE PRINCK WAS KINO 30, cord between two noblemen of distinction;" and he retom. mended to the Dukes of Buckingham and Ormond to join hands and forget a misunderstanding which rose on so unworthy a subject. Huckingham answered carelessly, "That the Duke of Ormond's honoured white hairs were uftirient apology for h,s making the first overtures to a ..cunciliation;" and he held out his hand accordingly. Hut Ormond only bowed .n return, and said, "The Ring had no cause to expert tbat the (ourt would be disturbt-i [,y his ,,ersonal resent- ments smce time would not yiud hi.n ba.k twenty years nor the grave restore his gall ua so,, (Issorv. .\. i , the ruftian who had intruded himscit then ht ^^^, .bliged to hmi. smce, by showing that his Majt-s • , ,le.nen - exf.nd ed even to the very worst of criminals, : e stm,. th.ne.l Im hopes of obtaining the Kings favour for such ..» his mnocent friends as were now in prison, and in danuer. from the odious charges brouj^ht against them on the score of the Popish Plot." The King made no other answer to this insinuation than bv directing that the company should embark for their re- urn to Whitehall; and thus took leave of the ofticers of the lower who were in attendance, with one of those well- turned compliments to their discharge of duty, which no man knew better how to express; and issued at the same time strict and anxious orders for protection and defence :; conL'nT'"' '"^"" ^°"'^'^' '° ^^^•"' -^ ^" ^^^'^••^ Before he parted with Ormond on their arrival at \\hite- hall, he turned round to him. as one who has made up his resolution, and said. "Be satisfied, my lord Duke-ou^ friends case shall be looked to." Sir Waltek Scott, /V< w/ p/ the Peak. ^/i^ JAMES n HOW THE KING LEFT HIS KINGDOM The loth of December, 1688, was a damp and gloomy evening \ a mist hung like a pall over the great and populous city, and the atmosphere seemed as if heavy with threatened trouble. Sounds of sorrow came with the wind that flapped to the shutters of many a neglected and deserted house; the lamps in the public ways were untrimmed ; yet, though there was much commotion, there was no rioting. The streets were thick with mud, as they are after the rushing by of a great multitude; and the squares were silent and lonely in their grandeur. Ai ?und the barracks, and in front of the public offices, where sentries usually stood, there was an activity, a stir, an orderly and well-regulated excitement- the only excitement in which military men, while on duty, indulge. At times was heard a rolling out 01 id-pieces from the army stores, and the grating sound of burnishing up old weapons. In the various forges, horses were standing to be shod; and good sober citizens were grouped round the doors, waiting to have rusty rifles cleaned, and old swords made new: persons so employed showed most strangely in the garish and uncertain light of watch and forge fires; or in the gleam of torches that strove to dispel the darkness of the corning and murky night. Basil Sydney. Captain in the King's Guards, repaired as usual to Whitehall, and— the prey of numberless contending feelings— heard and waited, waited and heard, expecting some movement would be made for restraining or meeting the army, which it was positively known was advancing !>> 302 HOW THE KING LEFT HIS KINGDOM 303 forced marches towards London. Still nothing was done rL- n ^^l^r'"'"'^^^^^' P"ests, and ambassadors were contmua ly dnv.ng backwards and forwards to and f om Whuehall; but many of the guards, and nearly al the Prote^antnobemen, had left theunpo as hi paLd '■•ThJ" "'"' '"^- " ^"'^"'^^^ - ««^-^' must vin the tricL-' ''""'' "^^ '"'''''' ^"^ "^ ^'"^-^ "That is precisely why I wait." replied Basil. "If Tames Stuart ceases to be a King, he does not cease to be a man tcmo w a, to-day will see Basil Sydney at his po "' " Addio, Cavahero " sad the othpr- "hnt t .1 l were pledged long ago." ' ' '''°''«'" '•"" "Whatever pledge I have given, I will redeem," replied v^ll?" '^""""-"O l>i' »"'-ry walk along ,he grelt .o".st"Hrt::d'rr^- •"-'-' - — ^-« Basil also bowed immediate ^fv c^ Yo . IT'T"' "^"'' •■'"'"■" ^^'"^>- '""'• Ba.iI r..i 7 u ° "''' ''"^^^ '"^' ^ believe?" «asil replied m the negative. "I am Sir Edward Hales" ^^S;^^„::;:^ie^^--— -- -...er'g^u a"r:.,rh:'La"d"""i "'"" "-■ - "Come wi,h me.- """ ™'"= "">■: "Whither.'" enquired liasil 304 JAMES II lit upon his wings, when he escaped from Paradise, so shall the man of Belial take with him the knowledge of the truth, ahhough he need it not." "You speak in riddles," replied the young soldier, who perceiving that something was afoot followed the person who had thus accosted him. The two soon reached the banks of the Thames, and the young officer noted that it was one of those unfre- quented spots where straggling warehouses stretched their gigantic lengths along the river's brink, like long uncouth ledgers on a merchant's desk. There was no sound in the air— no stir on the lead-coloured waters— all was hushed and calm, but it seemed like the cold calmness of destroyed hopes, rather tlian the natural cjuiet of an English night. After remaining for some minutes under the shadow of a brick wall, a splash in the river drew Basil's eye towards a particular spot, when he saw what had hitherto escaped his observation— a boat was close in to the bank, but the man had lain down i.i it, to avoid being seen. As he was about to mention the circumstance, his companion pre- vented him by placing his mouth to his ear, and whispering "Silence!"— and there was a silence so dread, so long, that Basil sincerely wished it broken, or that he was in his own quarters. His companion stood like a thing of stone-his arms folded, his head thrown back, his feet as if rooted in the earth: suddenly a low soft whistle crept through the air, and one, still lower, replied from the boat; then tlircc man, or rather, two and a youth, came stealthily forward- and Basil felt that the stranger trembled from head to foot, like one in a violent ague fit. "The Lord hath delivered him into mine hand," he mut- tered between his teeth, "and shall I not do his bidding: " Basil Sydney saw him fumbling in his bosom; and he feared lest some political opponent was now within his HOW THE KIN'G LEFT HIS KINGDOM 305 reach, upon whom vengeance was about to fall. He seized his hand, enquiring "What would ye?" And as the stranger shook him off, he said, "Peace, peace !-it is the King! I will not lift my hand agamst the Lord's anointed: but you, Basil Sydney, must hear, and bear testimony to the last lesson I will read to him xyho forgot the vows he vowed in God's holy pre- sence." He rushed forward, and, as the unfortunate monarch wiis about to step into the boat, seized his mantle, while his trusty companion, Sir Edward Hales, shouted "Trea- chery!" and the King, with the courage of a true Stuart, drew his sword. "Sir Edward Hales, peace! I seek to do your King no wrong; but," continued the enthusiast, "I mean that lames Stuart shall listen to the truth from the lips of-" His" voice sunk as he named his name, and the King returned his sword into ihe scabbard. "It is not now the time. You would not have dared this m the open day," replied the monarch. "No; because you have hunted me as a wild beast-set a price upon my head-dogged me-outlawed me-and why? Because I had been the bosom friend of Hampden of Cromwell, of Sydney, of Russell-ay, you may well shudder at his name-the name of your murdered victim ' lo the end of your days you shall live a mark of scorn, lor the finger of Europe to point at, because of your toolishness!-your children shall die childless; and the son you importuned God to give you shall be an outcast from and yet a curse to, his native land. James-the wavering -the bigoted-the revengeful King-will be wafted by curses from the English shores*." "This is unmanly," interrupted Sir Edward Hales, who was paralysed at first by the suddenness and impetuosity ut the fanatic. "Will your Majesty proceed, and suffer me I CM ■:»• if. yA JAMES II to deal with him?" He stood between them, more than half unsheathing his sword, and covering with his body his unhappy master, who, without reply, entered the frail boat that was to convey him to Gravesend. The enthusiast thwarted in his intention of enumerating the misdeeds of the monarch, continued his invectives after the boat had reached the centre of the river, where James, standing en the prow, flung the great seal of England into the waters, and continued silently weeping tears of weak disappointment until he arrived at the ship that was to bear him froiiT his crown and kingdom. Basil Sydney remained a calm, but a most interested, spectator of this strange scene. This last act bf the besotted James was, in every view, so extraordinary and so unexpected, that Basil could not account for it. He walked away completely absorbed in his thoughts, when the blazing torches and the loud shouts of the mob, as they yelled forth "Jeffreys— Jeffreys !-bring forth the head of the bloody assizes! bring forth the unjust judge!" burst upon him, with the full conviction that Jeffreys, knowing of the king's intention, wisely thought that London would be, according to the phrase, " too hot to hold him," and was recognised, most probably, while leaving his own dwelling, with the intention of following the king's example. "Gracious Heaven!" exclaimed Basil, "if Jeffreys is really in the house they have attacked, they will most surely murder him." "It is not murder, by the laws either of God or man," replied the outlaw. "Did not the Lord permit the dogs to lick the blood of Jezebel ? Jezebel might be esteemed a saint compared to him. I have seen him gloat over human suffering : I have heard his laugh, like that of the hyena, mingle with the groans of his tortured victims. Dared he to have drunk blood and feasted on human ill SSf^lv. ^^^W? !! ! " 'tis he ! 'tis he I Fii t p. 3°7 HOW THK KI\(1 LEFT HIS KINGDOM ,07 Hesh. it would have been the I.anquet his soul loved l,est Now let retnbut.ve justice deal with him; let him drink of he cup he hath mixed; let despair upon earth he he prelude to the eternal tire that waits for Lm ; the tin e o the^m.scr.^^ Kurning torches were applied a,!?ai„st the stubborn doo-s and wmdows; the frightful yells redoubled as thev give ^ ay; and the m.serable man was dragged forth to meet h.s doom Had he been a thousand times the wretch he was, Bas,l could not have resisted the impulse he fdt to save h.m from the clubs and knives of the infur ated populace who. to render his identity indisputable, tos e h.gh their ton.hes >„to the air, until the atmosphere appeared on fire, shouting "'Tis he! 'tis he!' PPearea Although his face was already disfigured by blood, there Basil st.ll more for h,m; he scorned the creatures who had compassed h.s destruction: never was contempt more s rongly marked on human countenance than upon hiT"! alone he bayed the throng that thirsted for his blood las.l n,shed forward with the intention of rescuing hin, 'f it were poss.ble ; but was effectually checked In- t e crowd. He looked again, Jeffreys was on his knee tl dragged him down, and-but Basil saw no more. Mrs. Hall, T/ie Outlaw. j : i 1 Li \ WILLIAM AND MARY SHOWING THAT MONARCHS ARE HUMAN William and Mary took much interest in the red-brick house whici ihe magnificent Cardinal Wolsey formed into a palace. The new King had little taste for the picturesque ; his style of gardening was a map of hij, mind; everything was cut, and square, and mathematicui : the very trees were shorn of their just proportions, and clipped into order; the gravel was all, to a pebble, of the same size; and the grass defied all the proverbs as to growing; at least, it never could be observed to grow. Workmen were employed in measuring, with extreme exactness, the distance between the trees they planted; for William loved to review his plantations as he did his soldiers,— in lines. Dutch gardeners, too, were superintending English labour- ers in the improvements, and certainly their appearance would have been in better keeping with a Dutch than with an English landscape: they looked so broad in their full wide trousers and flat red caps, as if they were cut out of one of Teniers' pictures, and placed there,— on, not of, tlic scene. The English soldiers seemed discontented; and talked of the wars in Ireland, and Duke Schomberg, and the Scottish disturbances, as if they longed to participate in them, instead of wasting their time in needless idleness. They lounged about the entrance without mixing vt ail with the Dutch guards, who seemed both at home an>l comfortable in their new quarters, and discussed pipe after pipe with great perseverance and equanimity; while our troops, by whom smoking was held in abhorrence, Jo8 SHOWING THAT MONARCHS ARE HUMAN 3=, affected to turn up their nom ,v,-,i, a- '.oras of the ascendant here." Seated o7 one ^f thMoT wmdow-seats. delighting all by his vivacious and t u manners, the Lord Halifax was endeavo Wn' t o 1 ' t e plausible, enterprising, but mos Tbll^^na'bTlr the fitness of some political measure, whth the oth. contested with more strength than wi ; 'hHe 'LlifL^" arguments were like the sportive but de tractive 1 1 playing round the battlements of a st urdv * '"'"^^ the power, but wanting the ^,\:1^:Z:J:'^r' .ts veneration. Godolphin. looking modest L::in:X I'ut with his own peculiar sagacity unravelling -Til V H'tngues. and trying them by the telt of i, '"'^ inflexible uprightness he I^nnlJ l ^" ^''"^ ^"^ 1 „ »u "t'"n"t"ess, he leaned agamst the tapestrv amiK^rl I-y the contrasted characters of two such rem!!lT/i Mordaunt. soon afterwards created Earfof Mont 1 "''"• standing upright, his arms folded ont' v^ t^^ed h^:! upon^'Ill'wh?"" ""r^"" beaming good-Zo";; upon all who came w.thm his ken; while his frank deter mmed manner, and firmness of carriage, told truly tr increased preferment, which he\ad d ^s -S t'o expect; mdeed. such preferment seemed a sealed mater for very many clergymen, beneficed and unbeneficed were bowmg to the knee, and, while waiting for the kin" 'Tl wise court to the minister «;«„ ^ .f . '"^ "^'"n' Paymg Sio ^V1LLIAM AND MARY ii bow to a man in power, no matter what his priadplet may be. The Earl of Dorset was looking great in the matter of chains and new appointments, and appeared a very gracious Lord Chamberlain; while Leefdale, the King's favourite page, with the sly consciousness of secret know- ledge, saluted each comer with the exact proportion of obeisance which his rank or prospects entitled him to expect. But the ' >urt still wore an unsettled air; and, while much gaiety characterised the mere courtiers, it was evident, that the heads and hands of ministers were full of business. "Oh," said one youth to Sir Charles Sedley, whose wit and readiness of repartee seemed to increase rather than diminish wiih his years— "oh, my lord I the late king, I hear, is more outrageous at your ingratitude, as he calls it, than at the disaffection of the whole country." "Indeed!" replied the wit, pausing on his way, for he was withdrawing from a private audience ;— " indeed ! " And taking a huge pinch of snufT from his ewelled box, he held it for a moment between his finger and thumb, repeated the word " Indeed 1" a third time, and than added: "James does me more honour than I anticipated; he gives me his fears where I expected his thanks. He made my daughter a countess, I made his daughter a queen." While this and other chatter employed and amused the courtiers, Mary of England was wandering from room to room, from chamber to chamber of the palace, which she had hardly learned to think her own. Many of the apart- ments recalled to her the scenes of her childhood; there was the closot where she had often played with Anne of Denmark, before politics or state intrigues had sown in their young minds the dissensions which even at that early period of her reign were ripening into the full bitterness of sisterly animosity. !l matocan rbowtion tbt chart (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) !■■ |M ■ 2.5 L& ^^ ■■■ Ui, |a2 ■ 2.2 tii, 13^ Im ■It IB U Ih 1^ m^i 1^ 1.4 1 ni.6 I APPLIED \MA3E Inc ^ 16S.1 Eo «"<• .|.rew ,he sovereij p„„t ,'^4 Ter "' d^^ "'"-"^ Stoop to pick it UD r-nn J ^"^ "°' even ^veak-I hate those tears kL 7' ^°" ^^" ^••°^^" of .■ron,-strong and cod ^1^^^°"'^ '^^'^ ^^-«« is a wonderful thawer of menC ''°" ''''" '''"^"ess — J-ve.,ri/^-;Se'r.,l:;- ^£^r^:t:isrJ^.---her "Perhaps you had b , /^ ™''/J 7-'" composed, join ^ ;„ ,he Xie;,:;;'; "'" ''°" """"''^ I an,rcS^:';,';'^=/.*= «- obedie„.<,„ee„, -b^ I. .s bes, always ,0 go i„,„ s„„e.y p„fec.,y ft^ f,„^ i^ I i! 1 ;• Ml' ; 1 •! ! ! ■ ! i! il - i H 11 !!i 314 WILLIAM AND MARY all sorts of a xation," said the king: "it is impossible to say how one's firmness may be tried." The queen, knowing from experience that the two things her husband loved best in the world were silence and obedience, entered her dressing-room, where everything was rather good than gorgeous; while he proceeded to the purple closet Mrs. Hall, The Outlaw. ANNE HOW SOME or THE BAXXLES OK ENGLAND WERE FOUGHT wh?rr '^' "^°'' °^ ^'^^ y'^' ^hich succeeded that in ou arn J Va'r°" ''"'' °' ^^'"'"^ ^^^ been ough" our army made no movement of importance much to thl Fllnde r "r ^' °"^ °ffi-s'remai^;gTnaet V „ flanders who sa,d that his Grace the Captain^enera had ent m'^yr'' ^"'.^^^ ^" ^°^ "^^"'^ ^^ -^ ^^e pa ace at WnoH . 'T '^.°T"^ " ''" ^"^ ^is splendid palace at Woodstock, which was now being built AnH leTs t' -\^-^--P-ion fightinr^Sstemiet a nome this year, where it began to be whispered that his r::er wr;"""^' ^-^ ^^^ ^-^- l^ng hetioMon famous Mrs M T ^'"""^^^^'^^ ^er royal affections to the MrHariev ^ ""' \"' ''"• ''^^'^^'"'^ '^"^^le servant! great par'of ^'T '''" "'"^"^^' ^"^ ^"^^^ P-^^d ^ Her Sst? to • T' '° '° ^"'■' ^^^ * ^''^'^^- But stin ofwh ch Tr'"''^ '""'"^^ '^^^ ""'' ^^^^ °f that opinion and Mr Hal I ^^'^ '"^'^ "'"^^^ ^^^ -hen so convLced, M. V , '^ ^"^"'■^ '°"^ had his revenge. way to" e L''; '"""^ °' «^^^'"^ ^'^ -^ g« - any Durin. a, ,o, T u' ^^^'^--"^h's gallant lieutenants' so much as a ba.r ''' '^'■'"'=' '^'°^^ "^' "^ ^ad never a. ZZr K f ' ""^ "'■'"y '" Spain was utterly routed Wcbbrwhich' ''•' '""'"^ ^"'^ °f ^--^'^^ -^ we of be ore hilttl^'HT ''' ^°""^ ^""^^ ^^^ ^^--^ed that t wl our cn^ fT'"' "'^^ " ""^^ P-"d to think was our colonel who had achieved this victory. "1 Ill 316 ANNE think if I hud had Galway's place, and my Fusileers," says our general, "we would not have laid down our arms, even to our old colonel, as Galway did;" and Webb's officers swore if we had had Webb, at least we would not have been taken prisoners. Our dear old general talked incau- tiously of himself and of others; a braver or a more brilliant soldier never lived than he ; but he blew his honest trumpet rather more loudly than became a commander of his station, and, mighty man of valour as he was, shook his great spear and blustered before the army too fiercely. The Chevalier (the king of England, as some of us held him) went from Dunkirk to the French army to make the campaign ^against us. The Duke of Burgundy had the com- mand this year, having the Duke of Berry with him, and the famous Mareschal Vendosme and the Duke of Matignon to aid him in the campaign. Holtz, who knew everything that was passing in Flanders and France (and the Indies for what I know), insisted that there would be no more fighting in 1708 than there had been in the previous year, and that our commander had reasons for keeping him quiet. Indeed, the general, who was known as a grumbler, and to have a hearty mistrust of the great Duke, and hun- dreds more officers besides, did not scruple to say that these private reasons came to the Duke in the shape of crown-pieces from the French king, by whom the Genera- lissimo was bribed to avoid a battle. There were plenty of men in our lines, quidnuncs, to whom Mr. Webb listened only too willingly, who could specify the exact sums the Duke got, how much fell to Cadogan's share, and what was the precise fee given to Doctor Hare. And the successes with which the French began the campaign of 1708 served to give strength to these reports of treason, which were m everybody's mcuth. Our general allowed the enemy to get between us and Ghent, and I ii h i\ I t! HOW SOME BATTLES W ERE FOUGHT 3,7 declined to attack him though for eight-and-forty hours the armies were in presence of each other. Ghent was taken and on the same day Monsieur de la Mothe -ummoned Bruges; and these two great cities fell into the hands of the French without firing a shot. A few days afterwards La Mothe seized upon the fort of Plashendall : and it began to be supposed that all Spanish Flanders, as well as Bra- bant, would fall into the hands of the French troops; when the Pnnce Eugene arrived from the Mozelle, and then there was no more shilly-shallying. The Prince of Sa^•oy always signalised his arrival at the army by a great feast (my Lord Dukes entertainments were both seldom and shabby); and I remember our general retummg from this dinner with the two commanders-in-chief- his honest head a little excited by wine, which was dealt out much more liberally by the Austrian than by the English commander:-"Now." says my general, slapping the table, with an oath, "he must fight; and when he is forced to It, d it, no man in Europe can stand up against Jack Churchill." Within a week the battle of Ouden- arde was fought, when, hate each other as they might Ksmonds general and the commander-in-chief were forced to admire each other, so splendid was the gallantry of each upon this day. The brigade commanded by Major-General Webb gave and received about as hard knocks as any that were deliv- ered m that action, in which Mr. Esmond h^d the fortune to serve at the head of his own company in his regiment under the commanu of their own colonel as major-general- and it was his good luck to bring the regiment out of action as commander of it, the four senior officers above him being killed in the prodigious slaughter which happened on that day. I like to think that Jack Haythorn, who sneered at me for being a bastard and a parasite of Webb's, llli! .,, li i>ii ill 318 ANNE as he chose to call me, and with whom I had had wr shook hands with me the day before the battle be^ Three days before, poor Brace, our lieutenant-colonel, had heard of h'- elder brother's death, and was heir to a baronetcy m N 'ifolk, and four thousand a year. Fate, that had left him harmless through a dozen campaigns, seized on him just as the world was worth living for, and he went into action knowing, as he said, that the luck was going to turn against him. The major had just joined us— a creature of Lord Marlborough's, put in much to the dis- like of the other c.iicers. and to be a spy upon us, as It was said. I know not whether the truth was so, nor who took the tattle of our mess to headquarters, but tVebb's regiment, as its colonel, was known to be in the com- mander-in-chief's black books: "And if he did not dare to break it up at home," our gallant old chief used to say, "he was determined to destroy it before the tnemy;" so that poor Major Proudfoot was put into a post of danger. Esmond's dear young viscount, serving as aide-de-camp to my lord duke, received a wound, and won an honour- able name for himself in the Gazette; and Captain Esmond's name was sent in for promotion by his general, too, whose favourite he was. It made his heart beat to think that certain ey^js at home, the brightest in the world, might read the page on which his humble services were recorded; but his mind was made up steadily to keep out of their dangerous influence, and to let time and absence tonqut-r that passion he haa still lurking about him. We of the English party in the army, who were inclined to sneer at everything that came out of Hanover, and to treat as little better than boors and savages the Elector's Court and fanaly, were yet forced to confess that, on the day of Oudenirde, the young Electoral Prince, then making his first campaign, conducted himself with the spirit and HOW SOMF BA1TI'. When the Prince came to the army, the snioulderms fires of war were lighted up. and buru out into a flame. Our phlegmatic Dutch allies were made to advance at a quick march-our culm Duke forced into action^ I he Prince was an army in himself against the Frencht the energy of his hatred, prodigious, indefatigable- mfectious over hundreds of thousands of men. The IZmperor's General was repaying, and with a vengeance, the sligh the French kmg had put upon the fiery little Abbe of & y Bnlhant and famous as a leader himself, and beyon Jl measure darmg and intrepid, and enabled to cope with almost the best of those famous men of war who com- manded the armies of the French king, Eugene had a weapon, the equal of which could not be found in France smce the cannon-shot of Sasbach laid low the noble Turenne and could huri Mariborough at the heads of the French host, and crush them as with a rock, under which all the gathered strength of their strongest captains must go down, he Fnghsh duke took little part in that vast siege of Lille which the Imperial Generalissimo pursued with all nis lorce and vigour, further than to cover the besieginc. 322 ANNE lines from the Duke of Burgundy's army, between which and the Imperialists our duke lay. Once, when Prince Eugene was wounded, our duke took his Highness's place in the trenches; but the siege was with the Imperialists, not with us. A division under Webb and Rantzau was detached into Artois and Picardy upon the most painful and odious service that Mr. Esmond ever saw in the course of his military life. Ihe wretched towns of the defenceless provinces, whose young men liad been drafted away into the French armies, which year after year the insatiable war devoured, were left at our mercy, and our orders were to show them none. We found places garrisoned by invalids, and children and women ; poor as they were, and as the costs of this miserable war had made them, our commission was to rob these almost starving wretches— to tear the fbod out of their granaries, and strip them of their rags. 'Twas an expedition of rapine and murder we were sent on: our soldiers did deeds such as an honest man must blush to remember. We brought back money and provisions in quantity to the Duke's camp; there had been no one to resist us, and yet who dares to tell with what murder and violence, with what brutal cruelty, outrage, insult, that ignoble booty had been ravished from the innocent and miserable victims of the war? Meanwhile, gallantly as the operations before Lille had been conducted, the Allies had made but little progress, and 'twas said when we returned to the Duke of Marl- borough's camp, that the siege would never be brought to a satisfactory end, and that the Prince of Savoy would be forced to raise it. My Lord Marlborough gave this as his opinion openly; those who mistrusted him, and Mr. Esmond owns himself to be the number, hinted that the Duke had his reasons why Lille should not be taken, and that he was paid to that end by the French King. If this was so, and HOW SOME BATTLES WERE FOUGHT ,,, of balking that shameful avarice :h^rrsor basest and most notorious quali ies of thJ f t '^' and of showing his own consumn^n? , n """"^ ^"'^^' And when iLsideTyrcTrcumVan'" event which will now be related th^'r ^'f '^'"^ '^' actually offered certain mi it ns' '? ""' "^"'^ ^"'^^ -- the siege of Lille should" raised ta^Z T"''' ^''^^ before it was without provisions !nd 1 '''" ^."'P^"^' ^^my have decamped but for thJ ^ , u '""""^°"' ^"^ '""st the march o^ ^1^:^ tr f^^^^^^^^^^^ accurately known to the French- and th?. t r ^^^ '^^' it was shamefully inadequate t J It end n' hT '""""^ iurerior to Count de l^ MnZ ' ""^ ^^ '"'^ times intercept the convoy when 1' "7' "u"' "^^ ^^"^ *° Benvick. De la MothVl chlf waT ' ''' """'^ °^ dence with his uncle the Fn.r Zn '" '°"'*^"' correspon- on my conscience hit tla^'i T''''''^^''"^' ^ Relieve -ntopreve.t^:^i;:^:-thS.r^^^ this convoy, and to betray t as he hnH? "'"' ^°^^^^^ ache at Brest- as h^ h.TJ , """^ betrayed Tollem- further his own schemes 0'/^' ""^ '"^"^ ^^ ^^^^ to the miraculous vicTor;Thi Frnd^: Snf 7" '" ^°^ an army six or seven Hm«c '"^°"f ^ General won over of Liile^,.st have b r rr^^^^^^ ^^^"- ^^^ ^^^^ bered that our gallant iSle f^ct'^s und^t '' "'"^'"• of a general whom Marlborough hatL th I °':?™'°' with the conqueror, and tried bvthf ^'^^^ ^e was furious less injustice afterwards t f u '"°'' °P"" ""^ ^^ame- victory. ^"^"^^^--ds to rob him of the credit of his By the besiegers and besieged of Lille, some of the most ill I ! Mi Mi Ih ! n i'ii li MMIiilU 1 1 324 A^NE brilliant feats of valour were performed that ever illustrated any war. On the French side (whose gallantry was pro- digious, the skill and bravery of Marshal Boufflers actually eclipsing those of his conqueror, the Prince of Savoy) may be mentioned that daring action of Messieurs de Luxem- bourg and Tournefort, who, with a body of horse and dragoons, carried powder into the town of which the besieged were in extreme want, each soldier bringing a bag with forty pounds of powder behind him; with which perilous provision they engaged our own horse, faced the fire of the foot brought out to meet them : and though half of the men were blown up in the dreadful errand they rode on, a part of them got into the town with the succours of which the garrison was so much in want. A French offi- cer, Monsieur du Bois, performed an act equally daring, and perfecUy successful. The Duke's great army lying at Helchin, and covering the siege, and it being necessary for M. de Vendosme to get news of the condition of the place. Captain du Bois performed his famous exploit; not only passing through the lines of the siege, but swimming afterwards no less then seven moats and ditches: and coming back the same way, swimming with his letters in his mouth. By these letters Monsieur de Boufflers said that he could undertake to hold the place till October; and that if one of the convoys of the Allies could be intercepted, they must raise the siege altogether. Such a convoy as had been said was now prepared at Ostend, and about to march for the siege; and on the 27th September we (and the French too) had news that it was on its way. It was composed of 700 waggons, containing ammunition of all sorts, and was escorted out of Ostend by 2000 infantry and 300 horse. At the same time M. de la Mothe quitted Bruges, having with bim five-and-thirty HOW SOME BATTLES WERE FOUGHT 325 battalions, and upwards of sixty squadron, and forty guns in pursuit of the convoy. ^ ^ ' Major-General Webb had meanwhile made up a force of twenty battahons and three squadrons of d^ajoons "t Turout whence he moved to cover the convoy and purs e La Mothe: w.th whose advance guard ours cL up' u^on the great plam of Turout, and before the little ^voor^ C castle of Wynendael ; behind which the convo ts Z h ^ As soon as they came in sight of the enemy, our advan" ced troops were halted, with the wood behind them anj the rest of our force brought up as quickly as pos'sible our httle body of horse being brougit forward 'o tie opemng of the plain, as our general said, to amuse he enemy. When M. de la Mothe came up, he f^und rnosted m two hnes in front of the wood; and formed his on arnrjy m battle facing ours, in eight lines, four of infan r^ in front, and dragoons and cavalry behind ^ whlh' S'threrh^'' "T " ""^'' "'^^ ^ — ''•de wmcn lasted three hours, when they made their attnck advancmg m eight lines, four of foot and four of h upon the allied troops in the wood whlTte^L p I'^d' rhe.r mfantry behaved ill: they were ordered to chart with the bayonet, but, instead, began to fire, and a mo^t Th :a:aZ bla ?r '"" ^"^ '"^"' "-^^ -d «et thrlTr '^"^ ^^""■' ^"^ '^^'^ ^'one, who were eur 7e T^uT " """"^°"^ '"^^ ^^ ^^ole force, Mo" sieur de la Mothe might have won victory: but on y tuo speedi';rr ""' f;'^" •" ^'^ '-^^^ -^'^ 1 French/ "°' "^"'^ '^' ''^'^'^^ ^»^'^ks of the pX in'he"" V" r^^ ^^ '"^^^ ^" '-h from the X a«fck "°°r '" "^''^ «»r general had placed them. ni.f.?f , ."^ ^^^ '^"° '^°"'^' the French retired at uTon h JT^ '°"^'- '''' ^" ^^^ ^- - had inflted upon him, the enemy was still three times stronger than ANNE we: and it could not be supposed that our general could pursue M. de la Mothe, or do much more than hold our ground about the wood, from which the Frenchman had in vain attempted to dislodge us. La Mothe retired behind his forty guns, his cavalry protecting them better than it had been able to annoy us; and meanwhile the convoy, which was of more importance than all our little force, and the safe passage of which we would have dropi)ed to the last man to accomplish, marched away in perfect safety duriiig the action, and joyfully reached the besieging camp before Lille. Major-General Cadogan. my Lord Duke's quartermaster- general (and between whom and Mr. Webb there was no love lost), accompanied the convoy, and joined Mr. Webb with a couple of hundred horse just as the battle was over, and thQ enemy in full retreat. He offered, readily enough, to charge with his horse upon the French as they fell back: but his forco was too weak to inflict any damage upon them; and Mr. Webb, commanding as Cadogan's senior, thought enough was done in holding our ground before an enemy that might still have overwhelmed us had we engaged him in the open territory, and in securing the safe passage of the convoy. Accordingly, the horse brought up by Cadogan did not draw a sword; and only prevented, by the good countenance they showed, any disposition the French might have had to renew the attack on us. And no attack coming, at nightfall General Cadogan drew off with his squadron, being bound for headquarters, the two Generals at parting grimly saluting each other. " He will be at Roncq time enough to lick my Lord Duke's trenchers at supper," says Mr. Webb. Our own men lay out in the woods of Wynendael that night, and our General had his supper in the little castle there. HOW SOMK BATTLES WKRE FOUGFIT 327 "If I was Cadogan, I would have a peera-e for this days work," General Webb said; "and, Harr'y, th^. s ou d have a reg.ment. Thou hast been reported in the last two actions; thou wert near killed in the first. I shall mention Chtr" 7 '"''''^!; '° ""'' ^^^- ^he Commanderr Chief, and recommend thee to poor Dick Harwood's vacant majonty. Have you ever a hundred guineas to give cZ donnel? Shp them mto his hand to-morrow, when you go to headquarters with my report." In this report the Major-General was good enough to mention Captain Esmond's name with particular favou and that gentleman carried the despatch to headquarters' the next day, and was not a little pleased to brincr back a letter by his Graces secretary, addressed to Lieutenant General Webb. The Dutch officer despatched byTount Nassau Woijdenbourg. Vrelt-Mareschal Auverquerque's son brought back also .a complimentary letter to his commander' ratir^iTkn^ '''■ ''-'' ■" ''' -'- -^^' -:; Esmond, with a low oow and a smiling face presented his despatch, and saluted Mr. Webb as Lieutena^ '(Tene tf as he gave it in. The gentlemen round about him-he came up with h.m-gave a cheer, and he thanked them and opened the despatch with rather a flushed, eager fac^' read^t^ "'t " T °" ''^ '°°^ '" ^ '^^^^ ^^^ ^e had read It. l,s not even writ with his own hand Read it our, Esmond." And Esmond read it out:- and be elad on nil ° y°" J"**''*^^ ^t home, B B i: ! ! I M 328 ANNE "Two lines by that d-d Cardonnel, and no more, for the taking of Lille-for beating five times our number— for an action as brilliant as the best he ever fought," says poor Mr. Webb. " Lieutenant-General ! That's not his doing. I was the oldest major-general. By — , I believe he had been better pleased if I had been beat." The letter to the Dutch officer was in French, and longer and more complimentary than that to Mr. Webb. "And this is the man," he broke out, "thats gorged with gold— that's covered with titles and honours that we won for him-and that grudges even a line of praise to a comrade in arms ! Hasn't he enough ! Don't we fight that he may roll in riches? Well, well, wait for the Gazette, gentlemen. The queen and the country will do us justice if his Grace denies it us." There were tears of rage in the brave waurior's eyes as he spoke ; and he dashed them off his face on to his glove. He shook his fist in the air. "Oh, by the lord!" says he, "I know what I had rather hav than a peerage!" "And what is that, sir?" some of them asked. "I had rather have a quarter of an hour with John Churchill, on a fair green field, and only a pair of rapiers between my shirt and his " "Sirl" interposes one. "Tell him so! I know that's what you mean. I know every word goes to him that's dropped from every general officer's mouth. I don't say he's not brave. Curse him, he's brave enough ; but we'll wait for the Gazette, gentle- men. God save Her Majesty! she'll do . justice." The Gazette did not come to us till a month afterwards; when my general and his officers had the honour to dine with Prince Eugene in Lille ; his Highness being good enough to say that we had brought the provisions, and ought to share in the banquet. 'Twas a great banquet. iinimdlil . J-OR THE TAKING OF LILLE.' rll uii; ! ; M i;!!' A r v\r •\ i _ jl i 1 1 ^=1 iti ijl 1 ■ i t HOW SOME BATTT.ES WERE FOUGHT 320 His Grace of Marlborough was on his Highness's right, and on his left the Mareschal de Boufflers. who had so bravely defended the place. The chief officers of either ar:.iy were present; and you may be sure Esmonds General was splendid this day : his tall noble person, and manly beauty of face, made him remarkabk anywhere ; he wore for the first time, the star of the Order of Generosity that His Prussian ^fajesty had sent to him for his victory.' His Highness the Prince of Savoy called a toast to the con- (lueror of Wynendael. My Lord Duke drank it with rather a sickly smile. The aides-decamp were present; and Harry Esmond and Lord Castlewood were together, as they always strove to be when duty would permit; they were over against the table where the generals were, and could see all that passed pretty well. Frank laughed at my Lord Duke's glum face; the affair of Wynendael, and the Captain General's conduct to Webb, had been the talk of the whole army. When his Highness spoke, and gave, "Le vuinqueur de Wynendael; son armee etsavictoire," adding, "qui nous fo'it diner i Lille aujourd'hui "-there was a c-reat cheer through the hall; for Mr. Webb's bravery, generosity, and very weaknesses of character caused him to be beloved in the army "Like Hector handsome, and like Paris brave! " whispers Frank Castlewood. "A Venus, an elderly Venus, couldn't refuse him a pippin. Stand up, Harry! See, we are drinkin- the army of Wynendael. Ramillies is nothing to it. Huzzavl huiizay!" At this very time, and just after our General had made his acknowledgment, some one brought in an English Ga^etie-^nd was passing it from hand to hand down the table. Officers were eager enough to read it; mothers and .'listers at home must have sickened over it. There scarce came out a Gazette for six years that did not tell of some heroic death or some brilliant achievement ANNE "Here it is-Action of Wyncndael-here you are. General." savs Frank, seizing hold of the little dingy paper that soldiers love to read so; and scrambhng over from our bench, he went to where the General sat. who kne>^ h?:. and had seen ma.y a time at his table his Uughmg hanksome face, which everybody loved who saw^ Th eenerals in their great perukes made way for him. He handed the paper'over General Dohna's buff-coat to our General on the opposite side. . u f.ot. "t He came hobbUng back, and bluswmg at h.s feat- I thought he'd like it. Harry." the young f;»o«^ ^^.sper d "Didn't I like to read my name after Ramilhes. m the London fi^az.//.. ^-Viscount Castlewood servmg as volun- teer— I say. what's yonder?" Mr Webb, reading the GazttU, looked very strange- slapped it down on the table-then sprang up m his place, and began, "Will your Highness please to- His Grace the Duke of Marlborough here jumped up too-"T»^ :re's some mistake, my dear General WebK "Your Grace had better rectify it," says Mr. Webb. hold..>g out the letter; but he was five off his Grace the Pr nee Duke, who, besides, was higher than tne General Sg seated with the Prince of Savoy, the Electoral Prince of Sanover. and the envoys of Prussia and Denmark^un^^^^ a baldaquin), and Webb could not reach him. tall as he v^as. "Stay- says he, with a smile, as if catching at some idea and th'en. Jith a perfect courtesy, drawing his swor li ran the Gazette through with the point, and said, Permit "■UrDtlirvl'bSa. "Ta.e ■< yvshe,.o«. Master of the Horse, who was waiting behind him. The Lieutenant-General made a very low bow an retired and finished his glass. The Gazette in which %^^ CardonneU the Duke's secretary, gave an account of the HOW SOME BATTLES WERE FOUGHT 33, victory of Wynendael. mentioned Mr. Webb's name but gave the sole praise aiid conduct of the action to the Duke's favourite, Mr. CadoRan. There wis no little talk and excitem-t occasioned by this strange behaviour of (ieneral Webb, who had almost drawn a sword upon the Comminder-in-Chief: but the General after the first outbreak of his anger, mastered it outwardly altogether; and, by his subsequent behaviour had the satisfaction of even more angering the Commander- m-Ch.ef. than he could have done by any public exhibition of resentment. On returning to his quarters, and consulting with his chief adviser, Mr. Esmond, who was uoy. entirely in the Generals confideiu^e. and treated by him as a friend, and almost a son. Mr. Webb writ a letter to his Grace the <-omm;inder-m-Chief, in which he solicited: '■Permi.si.n. ,o return to Engl.-tnd imme liately the milit.try duties will pe,m,t, and take with him .o England Captain Es.nouZ of his e«.,..ent, who acted as his aide-de-camp, and was present' during th eut.re act.on, and noted by his ..tch the time when Mr. Cadogaf arrived at its close." -""tjuu The Commander-in-Chief could not but grant this per- mission, nor could he take notice of Webb's letter, though It was couched in terms the most insulting. Half the army believed that the cities of Ghent and Bruges were given up by a treason, which some in our army very well under- stood; that the commander-in-chief would not have relieved l^Ule. if he could have helped himself; that he would not have fought that year had not the Prince of Savoy forced him. When the battle once began, then, for his own re- nown, nriy Lord Marihorough would fight as no man in the worid ever fought better; and no bribe on earth could Keep him from beating the enemy. But the matter was taken up by the subordinates; and liii ,ii y.M ! n i ' 3S> ANNE half the am.7 might have Wen l.y Ihe ean. if the quarrel Z l^n «o.ped. Genera: Cadogan «"- - -»- .ion to Genera, W^'* » '"V^;^ Tl^^nT i vwlfn r^totJr ne^wraiwa, Ircaa,. to .cept. and tLw" h R-eal dimculty «e got the Roncral to reply that hrhJno .luarrel with Mr. Cadogan, who had behaved ':^^ gln'trv, htu only ^^^^'^^^^'^^^'^Z 'JTZ^^ r. only ».i»faction he wan|^^. ^ hitn wa, on. he - ""'j;''* "/t;;^;' • ^r i^^^^ :rdiarx'^r;i:(rrU.oco-^^^^^^^^^^ to wipe off an old injury- . ., , Maccles Mv Lord Mohuri, who had a troop m .ord Maccles :L%^n, h^hadlTanoth'er f=ua, dttel in Sp^r, ; Tha.! married, and forsaken his wife; he «- ^ f^^'^^; Sht"r:tnrar^enX^^^^^^ Aeir ..e«ing, bat that was nearly healed, and Mr. Esmond r bled dfiiy lest -V chance ^ouM'^^^^^^^^^^^ l';'Han";"™dr:;nrrUllir^ omcer commanding not knowing of the feud between the two nobiemen. eLo J h^d not seen the hateful ;,andso,ne lace o Mr for nine yea., since «.eV -d - » ^^ night in Leicester l^ield. it wai, ae„rac HOW SOME BATTLES WERE FOUOHT ^^i^ passion now; it wore the anxious look of a man who has three deaths, and who knows how many hidden shames, and lusts, and crimes on his . onscience. He Irasved with a sickly low bow, and slunk away when our host presented, us round to o.ie another. Frank Custlowood had not known hiin till then, so changed was he. He knew the hoy well enough. "I'was curious to look at the two-especially the young man, whose face flushed up when he heard the hateil name of the other; and who said in his had French and his brave boyish voice. "He had long been anxious to meet my Lord Mohun." The other only bowed, and moved away from him. To do him justice, he wished to have no (luarrel with the lad. Esmond put himself between them at table. " D it, " /s Frank, "why do you put yourself in the place of a man who is above you in degree? My Lord Mohun should walk afte: me. I want to sit by my Lord Mohun." Esmond whispered to Lord Mohun, that Frank was hurt in the leg at Oudenarde; and besought the other to be quiet. Quiet enough he was for some time; disregarding the many taunt.s which young Castlewood flung at him until after several healths, when my Lord .Mohun got tJ be rather in liquor. "Will you go away, my lord?" Mr. Esmond said to him, imploring nim to quit the table. "No, by G-," says my Lord Mohun. "Ml not go away for any man;" he was quite flushed with wine by this time. The talk got round to the affairs of yesterday. Webb had offered to challenge the Commander-in-Chief: Webb had been ill-used: Webb was the bravest, handsomest, vainest man in the army. Lord Mohun did not know that itsmond was Webb's aide-de-camp. He began to leii some l> I ! II!! i liJi'Piii 334 ANNE stories against the general; which, from t'other side of Esmond, young Castlewood contradicted. "I can't bear any more of this," says my Lord Mohun. "Nor can I, my lord," says Mr. Esmond, starting up. "The story my Lord Mohun has told respecting General Webb is false, gentlemen -false, I repeat," and making a low bow to Lord Mohun, and without a single word more, Esmond got up and left the dining-room These affairs were com- mon enough among the military of those days. There was a garden behind the house, and all the party turned instantly into it; and the two gentlemen's coats were off and their points engaged within two minutes after Esmond's words had been spoken. If Captain Esmond had put Mohun out of the world, as he might, a villain would have been punished and spared further villainies— but who is one man to punish another? I declare upon my honour that my only thought was to prevent Lord Mohun from mischief with Frank, and the end of this meeting was, that after halfa-dozen passes my lord went home with a hurt which prevented him from lifting his right arm for three months. "Oh, Harry! why didn't you kill the villain?" young Castlewood asked. "I can't walk without a crutch: but I could have met him on horseback with sword and pistol. ' But Harry Esmond said, '"Twas best to have no man's life on one's conscience, not even that villain's." And this affair, which did not occupy three minutes, being over, the gentlemen went back to their wine, and my Lord Mohun to his quarters, where he was laid up with a fever which had spared mischief had it proved fatal. And very soon after this affair Henry Esmond and his general left the camp for London; whither a certain reputation had preceded the captain, for my Lady Castlewood of Chelsey received him as if he had been a conquering hero. She gave a great dinner to Mr. Webb, where the general's HOW SOME BATTLES WERE FOUGHT 335 chair was croivned with laiiro?=- ,„j t. . . Esmonds health in a toast „;• v " '•'"'''*'> <^'""1 graciottsly pleased ,oS the s, "" "'"'' '"'"''-'- c;!:' h"; r:™:ed°"t'he"tS,f r^^^----" ™= action. The mob hu/^a'd ,„"''"''' ^V'^'^""^"^ ^°'' his the fine company: uTas'^dMr''^''"- " ^^^" ^ hat, and bovlg and layinJ ^f h /'' '^ "^^'"^ ^'^ Generosity. He ntroduceiM; f' "J°" ''^ "'"^^^ ^^ and the Right Honour^bL^l.^^V came out of the Hoim<> wn.i" u ^' ^'^""•re, as he P'eased to make 2Z Z^ZT'"" ^'^"^ ^"^ -« Mr. Esmond's behaviour drL™rr "'"''"^ Mr. St. John (who had the most 'Z ''"^'"■^"^• any man I ever saw evr^n. T "'"^ Presence of Frank Castlewoorsa^^Th'ad 7'^"'^'"^ ^°""^ before from Captain Steele and ^ u "! ^'■- ^^'"^"d heiJis:,^^ ri,::; -tST' - -^ ^^^e. and patron of ietterf and ' I "'' ^'"'^"^ '' ^ ^^^Se for my part th nk ther. ' ''''''^''' '^ "^^^ ^e-tLulh a" th^ rest is tLotpl^ aT^T^ '!-' ^- worth a thousand such poems "^''""^ ^y*"" ^^■--n: :?^e::^;'^"^ - -^ ^-^ Duke, unjust thanks which the Ho se of Co' '''''''"'^' ^^^ ^^^^ «f for his victory at wXdae^T"" '"" '' '""^ ^^"^^^ of Lille was the consecmeni. r ?'"''" '^'' '^^ ^^P^"^e and the humiliation of the old F f /"''^' achievement, to suffer more at the oss of tV '"^' ''"^' "'^^ "^^ ^^'^ of the former victlrfe our tr Tf '''''' ^'^^^ ^^^'^ any f think, no smaT^a^^f M7wen•^°"T'^''"•^"^• ^ ot Mr. Webbs exultation at his I liil 336 ANNE victory arose from the idea that Marlborough had been disappointed of a great bribe the French king had promised him, should the siege be raised. The very sum of money offered to him was mentioned by the Dukes enem.es; and honest Mr Webb chuckled at the notion, not only ot beating the French, but of beating Marlborough too, and intercepting a convoy of three millions of French crowns, that were on their way to the Generahssnno s insatiable pockets. When the General's lady went to the Queen s drawing-room, all the Tory vvomen crowded round her with congratulations, and made her a train greater than the Duchess of ^Marlborough's own. Feasts were given to the General by all the chiefs of the Tory party, who vaunted him as the Duke's equal in miUtary skill; and perhaps used the worthy soldier as their instrument, whilst he thou-ht they were but acknowledging his merits as a commander. As the General's aide-de-camp and favourite officer, Mr. Esmond came in for a share of his chiefs popularity, and was presented to Her Majesty and advanced to the rank of lieutenant-colonel, at the request of his grateful chief. , \V. M. Thackeray, Esmond 4; k M GKORGK II noNNIE PRINCK CHARr.IF, About a score of armed men on horseback, excortin- a prisoner, >vere nearing the castle of Stirling. These hid less the appearance of regular soldiers than of individuals who had suddenly assumed arms from some pressing motive ot unexpected emergency. Their uniform, which was blue and red, an affected imitation of that of French chasseurs, was in many respects incomplete, and sate awkwardly upon those who wore it. Anyone accustomed to look at a well-disciplined regiment, could easily discover that the motions and habits of this escort were not those of tramed soldiers, and that, although expert enough in the management of their horses, their skill was that of huntsmen or grooms, rather than of troopers. The ho: -es were not trained to the regular pace so necessary to execute simultaneous and combined movements and formations; nor did they seem bitted (as it is techn, illy expressed) for the use of the sword. The men, however, were stout, hardy-looking fellows, and might be individually formidable as irregular cavalry. The commander of this small party was mounted upon an excellent hunter, and dressed in uniform. Over the battlements of the castle the union flag was brightened as it waved in the evening sun. To shorten his journey, or perhaps to display his importance and insult the English garrison, the commander, inclining to the right took his route through the royal park, which reaches to and surrounds the rock upon which the fortress is situated. 337 338 GEORGE II 1-!i!!i The mixture of romance and beauty renders interesting the scene through which the band was now passing— the field which had been the scene of the tournaments of old— the rock from which the ladies beheld the contest, while each made vows for the success of some favourite knight— the towers of the Gothic church, where these vows might be paid— and, surmounting all, the fortress itself, at once a castle and palace, where valour received the prize from royalty, and knights and dames closed the evening amid the revelry of the dance, the song, and the feast. AH these were objects fitted to arouse and interest a romantic imag ination. The commander in the pride of his heart, as he wheeled his little body of cavalry round the base of the castle, commanded his trumpet to sound a flourish, and his stan- dard to be displayed. This insult produced apparently some sensation; for when the cavalcade was at such dis- tance from the southern battery as to admit of a gun being depressed so as to bear upon them, a flash of fire issued from one of the embrazures upon the rock; and ere the report with which it was attended could be heard, the rushing sound of a cannon-ball passed over the commander's head, and the bullet, burying itself in the ground at a few yards distance, covered him with the earth which it drove up. There was no need to bid the party trudge. In fact, avery man acting upon the impulse of the moment, soon brought the steeds to show their mettle, and the cavaliers, retreat- ing with more speed than regularity, never took to a trot, until an intervening eminence had secured them from any repetition of so undesirable a compliment on the part of Stirling Castle. I must do the commander, however, the justice to say, that he not only kept the rear of his troop, and laboured to maintain some orde'- among them, but, in the height of his gallantry, answered the tire of the castle BONNIE PRINCE CHARLIE 339 athnntT"*.™' "'' '"''' '■or»e.pi„„|. „ Q,, battlement, ■ :z:;Zr:^i:':,:r" °''''^'"'°" -- «-« Ihe travellers now passed the memorable field of R.n nockburn. and reirhf^rl fU. t , "'*^ "^'^ ot lian- wa. pertaned wi.h very ,i,Ue regard" *„r;Z,p„'r iV™-r2Trta„^l-t^;^^^^^^^^ .n.el, were deemed unnecessary, an'd ,he onTv.l „"" drchmen. but rr ■Th"''"" ^"''^ ""^ "" °f ">e ™,. T^ ™ mhabitants some were favourable TZ 'o^ctlS^d ^tt ''^ ^"' °^'^^^^'^'- ^° "-hin~ the own's rest v^a- T'"" "' ''' '^^"^"^ ^^^P^ ^^at gation of voice ^"' ""»"' ""'^""^ ^^""^^ - -"- the'^'roL'to FhT'T '^t'' ''''' ^^^'" "-^'-'^d. anl on of the tro p tet'r" "d /h T' ^'^ '^'"'^ ^'^^^^ ^^ -- iess debaucl TheXtS^^^^ T," ^ "j^^^ °^ ^'-'>- by Its ancient nalare h Lmhthgow, distinguished escaped the unwo h;' fltt'f k^"''' "■"' '''' "^"°^'^ for French prisoners IJ ' '°"''"''^ '"'^ ' ^^^^^^^ ashes of the natrbti; . ' ''^°'' '"^ ^^^^^'"^^ ^"^"'i ^he vices to Scotlandl^; T ;'. "''^' ^""""^^^ ^^« '^' ««^- As thev ' ["^''■P°^^d 'his profanation! As they app^oac-M the metropc ■ of Scotland, through i i ■m \\'\\ \\':i 340 GEORGE II a champaign and cultivated country, the sounds of war began to be heard. The distant, yet distinct report of heavy cannon, fired at intervals, apprized the party that the work of destruction was going forward. Even the commander of this troop seemed moved to take some precautions, by sending an advanced party in front of his troop, keeping the main body in tolerable order, and moving steadily forward. Marching in this manner they speedily reached »n emi- nence, from which they could view Edinburgh stretchins along the ridgy hill which slopes eastward from the Castle. Thelatter, being in a state of siege, or rather of blockade, by the northern insurgents, who had already occupied the town for two or three days, fired at intervals upon such parties of Highlanders as exposed themselves, either on the main street, or elsewhere in the vicinity of the fortress. The mornin. being calm and fair, the effect of this dropping fire was to invest the castle in wreaths of smoke, the edges of which dissipated slowly in the air, while the central veil was darkened ever and anon by fresh clouds poured forth from the battlements; the whole giving, by the partial con- cealment, an appearance of grandeur and gloom. Ere they approached the city, the partial cannonade had wholly ceased. The commander, however, having in his •recollection the unfriendly greeting which his troop had received from the battery at Stirling, had apparently no wish to tempt the forbearance of the artillery of the Castle. He therefore left the direct road, and sweeping consideraMv to the southward, so as to keep out of vhe range of the cannon, approached the ancient palace of Holyrood, without having entered the walls of the city. He then drew up his men in front of that venerable pile, and delivered his prisoner to the custody of a guard of Highlanders, whose officer conducted him into the interior of the buildmg. BONNIE PRINCK CHARLIE .141 A long, lott-^ and ill-proportioned gallery, hung with pic- tures affirmed to be the portraits of kin,s. who, if they ever flourished at all, lived several hundred year; before ^le invention of painting in oil colours, served as a sort of g^ard chamber or vestibule, to the apartments which the adventurous Charles Edward now occupied in the palace of his ancestors Officers, both in the Highland and Lowland garb passed and repassed in haste, or loitered in the hali as ,f waiting for orders. Secretaries were engaged in maS Zjr'-r''''' ^"' ^"""^^- ^" -m'elbry and earnestly intent upon something of importance- but the Pnsoner was suffered to remain seated fn the re'cess of a I'Tr;?' 'IT °"^' "■" --"reflection upl the tartans was heard .Zr^^^^ t.^^^:::::^^ shoulders, and a friendly voice exclaimed- "^ sighuo ^or^ot'lfingT' ''''''' ^°°'^^ ^' '"^ --^- or A thousand welcomes, dear Waverley, to Holyrood once more possessed by her legitimate sovereign I ^d I the hal"r!""itr'"^' ^"^ ^^^^ ^^ -"'' all m,' the hands of the Philistines if you parted from us?- greeting '7T.\ "' '""T'"'' ^^^^^^^ ^'"-"^ his Wpl Flora" "' """ ' '^^^ ""'"' ^ ^"-^'^ --. "Safe and a triumphant spectator of our success." In this place.'" said Waverley. you litt'e hinl ; u ^''^" "'"'^ "^^^' * «end whom after it; ' "'" '"' '^^" ^^^^"^"^ - his inquiries 'i'hus saying, he dragged Waverley by the arm out of the c c *: Ml i I ill llii 1' 1' ■ \ ',i- i 1 ! ■ lii ! ;42 r.KORGE 11 guard chamber, and, ere he knew where he was conducted, he found himself in a presence room, fitted up with some attempt at royal state. A young man, bearing his own fair hair, distinguished by the dignity of his mien and the noble expression of his well-formed and regular features, advanced out of a circle of military gentlemen and Highland chiefs, by whom he was surrounded. In his easy and graceful manners Waverley afterwards thought he could have discovered his high birth and rank, although the star on his breast, and the embroi- dered garter at his knee, had not appeared as its indications. "Let me present to your Royal Highness," said Fergus, bowing profoundly— "The descendant of one of the most ancient and loyal famiUes in England," said the young Chevalier, interrupting him. "I beg your pardon for interrupting you, my dear Mac-Ivor; but no master of ceremonies is i ecessary to present a Waverley to a Stewart." Thus saying, he extended his hand to Edward with the utmost courtesy, who could not, had he desired it, have avoided rendering him the homage which seemed due to his rank, and was certainly the right of his biith. "I am sorry to understand, Mr. Waverley, that, owing to cir- cumsUnces which have been as yet but ill explained, yon have suffered some restraint among my followers in Perth- shire, and on your march here; but we are in such a situation that we hardly know our friends, and I am even at this moment uncertain whether I can have the pleasure of considering Mr. Waverley -as among mine." He then paused for an instant; but before Edward could adjust a suitable reply, or even arrange his ideas as to its purport, the Prince took out a paper and then proceeded: —"I should indeed have no doubts upon this iect, if I could trust to this proclamation, tes forth by tlie iriends BONNIK PRINCK CHARME 343 of the Elector of Hanover, in which they rank Mr W.v. . among the nobility and L'entrv ..h "'^^ '^''"'* ^*'^- ^^ ^^verley he shall have mv nawnnrt n«^ «• . . ^'ector, >.nH I , *^^^^P°" »"a free permissbn to do so- and 1 can onlv rcirra* »u„. ""» extend to ^^^^^Z :^LZ:'^Z^ZJ^ ancestor, Sir N^T'deter Jn T'" '' '^""'^' ''"^^ '""^ has httlP J determine to embrace a cause which nas little to recommend it but its iustire mH r . ris "d til t,:' ""'^^ ^^^^^'^'^^ - ^ gallant enter. ■>utitrul:!;ire:beuCeS"^^^^^ ^vith the royal Advemul ir^ '''"''"*' '"^^''^'e^ and manners of an h\^ '"''°'^"'^ *° '^^ ^^^^^ss eminentl" skltul hisf H 7u^' '" "^''^^ ^'^^^^^s was heartof Fdwa d W ^ \'"^ ^'^ '^'"^"^^^ penetrated the motive rbe?^^^^^^^^^^ a Prince, whose fo rind" ' """^'' '°^ "^'^'^^^ ^^ which he disp aved ?n Th ™'""?''' "' ^'^" "^ ^^ ^P'"' his ideas of a hero nf ''"^"'"'' ""'"'"P"^^' ^"^^ered the andent hall. ofK °"'''''' '° ^^ ^°"^^^^ ^y him in sword ^h h h"^ :L Lfarh' ^.^^^^' '^^°--d '^y the nuests, gave EdwaTd in h ' ^^ ^"^ '^""'"''^ °'^^^ ^°'^- importance whth he td"^'^?" ''''' '''' dignity and liejected, slILdeLd 11 T" ° "°"''^^^ ^ ^'^ ^"^butes. ' ''^'^^'^^<^' «"- ^^ft the presence- ili , i! 348 GEORGE II :i: i "How do you like him?" was Fergus's first question, as they descended the large stone staircase. "A prince to live and die under," was Waverley's enthu- siastic answer. "I knew you would think so when you saw him, and I intended you should have met earlier, but was prevented by your sprain. And yet he has his foibles, or rather he has difficult cards to play, and his Irish officers, who are much about him, are but sorry advisers,-they cannot dis- criminate among the numerous pretensions that are set up, Would you think it- 1 have been obliged for the present to suppress an earl's patent, granted for services rendered ten years ago, for fear of exciting the jealousy, forsooth, of C— and M-. But you were very right, Edward, to refuse the situation of aide-de-camp. There are two vacant, indeed, but Clanronald and Eocniel, and almost all of us, have requested one for young Aberchallader, and the Lowlanders and the Irish party are equally desirous to have the other for the Master of F-. Now. if either of these candidates were to be superseded in your favour, you would make enemies. And then I am surprised that the Prince should have offered you a majority, when he knows very well that nothing short of lieutenant-colonel will satisfy others, who cannot bring one hundred and fifty men to the tield, 'But patience, cousin, and shuffle the cards!'" Sir Walter Scott, U'avfrky. GEORGE III AT illi ENDS OF THE EMPIRE S t .-a In August 1757 the siege, of Fort William Henry was gorously pressed by a power, against whose approach s defenders possessed no competent means of resistance It appeared as if Webb, with his army, which lay slumberinc: on the banks of the Hudson, had utterly LtZenZ stra. to which his brethren were reduced ' Momca: had fiHed the woods of the portage with his savages, very yell of the.r commander. As if satisfied with the toT nf neglected rr Istgle h t lh,7' Tl "°^ '^'^ ^^^" eminences, or rather dread of .K Tu °^ '°"^''"P^ ^°^ them, might havthL f / ^^ ^^^°"'" °^ ascending the ;aZ of he perionV'' '"^'"^ ^^^^^"^ «' of the Indian conterin wLhT"'''j" ^'^ ""•'"^'^^ combats, and the 2^ I ' L tLff^rtT °' ''^ -re, and artillerj^ next to useless ' ''^'' "'" 3^9 350 GEORGE III Tlic evils of this state of things pressed heavily on tlu fortunes of the resolute Scotsman who now defended W il liam Henry. Though his adversary neglected the hills, lu had planted his batteries with judgment on the plain, anc caused them to be served with vigour and skill. Agains this assault, the besieged could only oppose the imperfec and hasty preparations of a fortress in the wilderness, u whose mounds those extended sheets of water whicl :,tretched into the Canadas, bore no friendly aid. whilt they opeped the way to their more fortunate enemies. It was on the afternoon of the fifth day of the siege, anc the fourth of his own service in it, Major Heyward profite( by a parley that had just been beaten, by repairing to th^ ramparts of one of the water bastions, to breathe the co(; air from the lake, and to take a survey of the progress o the siege. He was alone, if the solitary sentinel wh^ paced the mound be excepted ; for the artillerists had ha; tened also to profit by the temporary suspension of thai arduous duties. The evening was delightfully calm, an- the light air from the limpid water fresh and soothing. 1 seemed as if, with the termination to the roar of artillen and the plunging of shot, nature had also seized th moment to assume her mildest and most captivating forn The sun poured down his parting glory on the scene, witl out the oppression of those fierce rays that belong to tli climate and the season. The mountains looked green, an fresh, and lovely; tempered with the milder light, or softene in shadow, as thin vapours floated between them and th sun. The numerous islands rested on the bosom of tli Horican, some low and sunken, as if embedded in the water and others appearing to hover above the element, in littl hillocks of green velvet, among which the fishermen of tl: beleaguering army peacefully rowed their skiffs, or floate at rest on the glassy mirror, in quiet pursuit of their gam ■■ i AT THE KNDS OF THK EMPIRE 35, Two little spotless flags were abroad, the one on a sa ent angle of the fort, and the other on the advanced battery of the besiegers ; emblems of the truce which existed not only to the acts, but it would seem, also, to the enm ty of the combatants. Behind these, again, swung, heavHy openmg and closmg m silken folds, the rival standards of England and France. A hundred gay and thoughtless young Frenchmen were dra..ng . net to the pebbly beach, within dangerous prax.m,ty to the sullen but silent cannon of the fort wht he eastern mountain was sending back the loud shouts and gay mernment that attended their sport. Some were rushmg eagerly to enjoy the aquatic games of the hke and I r^vr'th "'', ^"""^ '''''' '^^y "P ^^^ neighbouring h.lls. w,th the restless curiosity of their nation. To aU these sports and pursuits, those of the enemy who watched the bes.eged and the besieged themselves, were, however merely the jdle though sympathizing spectators. Here and there a p.cket had indeed raised a song, or mingled in a rr'thl- t-'-^' T" *'^ '^'^y --^- around the. sho« e r '" '^' '''''''' '■" '""'^ astonishment. In o a boodvanH . ^ ''°''" '""^ ^'^ '""^^^^ ^"^^ oil ui d Dioody and vmdictive warfare S cted to L ,'•''" "^""^^^' "h^'^ his eyes were Qirected to the glacis m front of the sally-nort hv deepest degradation ^t having fallen into the power ,>j- (;kor(;k hi ir ! .. iv of his enemies. He was without his weapon, and his arm were even bound behind him with thongs, made of the ski of a deer. The arrival of flags, to cover the messengers c summons, had occurred so often of late, that when Heywar( first threw his careless glance on this group, he expected ti see another of the officers of the enemy, charged with similar office ; but the instant he recognised the tall persor and still sturdy, though downcast, features of his friend, thi woodsman, he started with surprise, and turned to descen( from the bastion into the bosom of the work. The young man threw himself down the grassy steps o the bastion, and moving rapidly across the parade, he wai quickly in the presence of the commander. Munro wai pacing his narrow apartment, with disturbed air, and giganti( strides, as Heyward entered. "You have anticipated my wishes. Major Heyward," hi said; "I was about to request— this favour." "I am sorry to see, sir, ihat the messenger I so warmly recommended, has returned in custody of the French! 1 hope there is no reason to distrust his fidelity?" "The fidelity of the 'Long Rifle' is well known to me," returned Munro, "and is above suspicion; though his usual good fortune seems, at last, to have failed. Montcalm has got him, and with the accursed politeness of his nation, he has sent him in with a doleful tale of 'knowing how I valued the fellow, he could not think of retaining him.' A Jesuitical way, that. Major Duncan Heyward, oftelHnga man of his misfortunes ! " "But the general and his succour!—" "Did ye look to the south as ye entered, and could ye not see them?" said the old soldier, laughing bitterly "Hoot! hoot! you're an impatient boy, sir, and cannot give the gentlemen leisure for their march!" "They are coming, then? The scout has said as much?" AT THE KNIJS OF THJi KMl'JKK 553 i« the onlyagreeaue ;„„•;'::::'' TrT'' """ *"' marquessates-but, if the news of thl ^7 " '"''^ -entilitv nf fK.-c i^ T '^^ ^^"^"^ «'ere bad, the .nelSgerr^ "' """■ '"'"■ ^'^' "'■"' ^» -leases .he youf'hiJr ?t",w "" "■' "" -keofwhaeyoucal, amount is this: there is a fnrt r.fu ^^ ^^°^^ of the Hudson ca led %/ / T^^"'''^ ^ °" ''^'^ bank^ armed men as uchT I T' '"^ " '' ^«" fi^^d with u men, as such a work should be'" ™«>e half aSco'Lr ™1, The""''"''' rT' ''""^""' his pottder over his n^ ^ [ r °"^ °"''™ <'"'PI«=^nd of the native chin .^"'"'^"^^y^^^^rthy «eld, with the warrLs of Ih. '' '""°"^^ ^'"^ '^ the Thf> \f->. • ;'°" ot their several tribes ihe Alarquis of Montcalm was ^t th^ ■ . .«^e wnte, in the flower of L . "^""^ ^'^ ^^^ich - 'he zenith of hisTort/ne " T', '"' ^"^>^ ^^ ^^^^d, situation he was affable and % . "I-^" '" "^^^ ^"^'^^^^ ^^«^"t'on to the fo^s of counf '"'^'f '' much for his courage which, onrtwo .hn^ ^' "' ^°' '^^' chivalrous h-'" to throwaway hisT^e on ./'""f •'''''■"^^^^' '"^"^^d "^^lonsieur," said the F^ u n^ ^^"'"^ "^ '-^^^^ham. ■•'-sir ^-baLuo, 1st ce f ""f '' "j"^' ^eaucoup de "Je cro;« vr °"^^'cet interpr^te?" ^ je crois, Monsieur, qu'il ne ^f^r. ^vard modestly replied- 'il , ^^ necessaire.' 5 Je parle un peu fran^ais. Hey- U D .1: ,i^i..Uill|i 111 8 ini 356 r.KORGK in "Ah! j'cn «uis hicn aise," said Montcalm, takinp HcvwarH familiarly by the arm, and leading him deep into the mar (|uee, a little out of earshot: "je deteste ce^ fripons 1^, on ne sait jamais sur quel pied on est avec eux. Eh bicn! Monsieur," he continued, still speaking in French ; "though I should have been proud of receiving your commandant. I am very happy that he has seen proper to employ an officer so distinguished, and who, I am sure, is so amial)le as yourself." Heyward bowed low, pleased with the compliment, m spite of a most heroic determination to suffer no artifice to allure him into a forgetfulnrss of the interests of his prince; and M -ntcalm, after a pause of a moment, as if to collect his thoughts, proceeded— "Your commandant is a brave man, and well qualified to repel my assaults. Mais, Monsieur, is it not time to begin to take more counsel of humanity, and less of your own courage? The one as strongly characterizes the hero as the other." "We consider the qualitier are inseparable," returned Heyward, smiling; "but while we find in the vigour of your excellency every motive to stimulate the one, we can, as yet, see no particular call for the exercise of the other." Montcalm, in his turn, slightly bowed; but it was with the air of a man too practised to remember the language of flattery. After musing a moment, ha added— "It is possible my glasses have deceived me, and that your works resist our cannon better than I had supposed. You know our force?" ^^ "Our accounts vary," said Duncan, carelessly; the hi^^hest, however, has not exceeded twenty thousand men. " The Frenchman bit his lip, and fastened his eyes keenly on the other, as if to read his thoughts; then, with a read- iness peculiar to himself, he )ntinued, as if assentmg to AT THE KNDS OF THK KMPfRF, ,57 "It is a poor compliment to the vigilance of us soldier, Mons,eu, that do what we will, we never can conce j 2 numbers. It it were to be done at all. one wouW be ieve .t m,Kht succeed in these woods. Though you thrnk! too archly. I may be permitted to believe that gallantrv i. not forgotten by one so young as yourself. The d ^ JorJ\Z'''' '^^""'■'"'■^ ^"* '° '■^^ ^^""^ weakening our efforts, they set us an example of courace in th.fr fortitude. Were nothing but resolution neLTry to rell so accomplished a soldier as M. de Moptcair '^i -' """'Town^'f r^'"'"'' '" °"'- "^''^"^ '^-' -hich to' the distaff • H M '' '''" "'^^^ ^^^^-^"^ ^he lance hauteur h.f' '^'f Montcalm, drily, and with a little easy a.r. As all the nobler qualities are hereditary I mn Imt "Tr""'- ^'°"»"'' ^^ ' -^ before c'ul^'has": 1 mits. and humanity must not be forgotten 1 3. m I should be sorry to have the defence protracted in attentive r^j";f"?r ^'^ '"'' "' '^" «™"P ^^ ^^^ve and "I find i d ffi ',r "' """"^'"^ ^° ^^^^ ^'her's question; I^t^d u difficult, even now to limit them to the usages ' igi I ; i:i.:U 358 CKORGF. Ill Heyward was silent, for a painful recollection of dangers he had recently escaped, came over his mind, and recalled the images of those defenceless beinss who had Khared m all his sufferings. , .. . ,. "Ces messieurs lA." said Montcalm, followmg up the advantage which he conceived he had gamed, "are •aost formidable when battled; and it is unnecessary to tell ymi with what difficulty they are restrained in their anger Kli bien Monsieur ! shall we speak of the terms of the surrender r "I fear your excellency has been deceived as to tlu strength of William Henry, and the resources of its garrison ! ' "I have not sat down before Quebec, but an earther work, that is defended by twenty-three hundred gallaii men." was the laconic, but polite reply. "Our mounds are earthen certainly - nor are they seated on the rocks of Cape Diamond; but they stand on tha shore which proved so destructive to Dieskau and his brav army There is also a powerful force within a few hour march of us, which we account as part of our means ( ^"s"ome six or eight thousand men," returned Montcalr with much apparent indifference, "whom their leader wise judges to be safer in their works than in the field. It was now Heyward's turn to bite his lip with vexatio as the other so coolly alluded to a force which the you, man knew to be overrated. Both mused a little while silence, when Montcalm renewed the conversation maw that showed he believed the visit of his guest was, sole to propose terms of capitulation. On the other har Heyward began to throw sundry inducements in the w of the French general to betray the discoveries he h made through the intercepted letter. The artifice of ne.th however, succeeded; and, after a protracted and fruitli interview, Heyward took his leave, favourably impress AT THE KNDS OK THK KMIMKK 359 with an opinion of the courtesy and talents of the cncnvs captam. but a« ,g„orant of what he rame to learn a wkn he of thrfortto T^ ^" •""'"'•""" '" '^' -M„mandant :^t,t:ncfr:r="*^'^ '"-'- ^-^-''^ I her., they wparatcd, and Hoyward returned to .he „l vanced p„« „f ,he French, acc„,n„a„i„| a, hcforl »he„" ht rrizr" '" "- '"■'■ -" - -^^ "-- - H.'nlr' "Y,""" '■°""'' *'""'•"' "'te"*-! only bv hi, and wh.„ever i^ affected to frown on her .riflin,. apZ' -j^..ed ,?or„. r^;:;dr;:r:;Sd't;:-; ffr:^ersr,=t::-rsf: forg„rn"rthfr, "'■."'"^"'='' '° >« ■""■nentarilv tr„ce ,„ / ? °' '"^ ""y '""i profited by the short Ch,r'for"er"*J° "" '•"^'' ""^ "-' "•^-•^o" cares, TtLe s.Wn« ""*h '" .'^'"^' ""<' *^ '■"=™ *« scene Hey„rd 1' !'"'!.''=<=''"■!■ "f 'he moment. Of thf,, M enter:r™„iL'':,::r™r '° "^°" "'= "'^'^'- •served and dehVh J^ ^"^' moments an unob- eyes of aL' oonl '"'T"''''- ^"' ''^ ^"''^'^ ^"^ dancing from a g^ l°d Z' " ''T'' °'''^ '^"""-' ^-fl-ted knee, exclat'ing aloud inT"' ''"^'"^ '^^"^ ^^^ ^'^^^^'^ " What ofTe laXe J*' h'7:'"~'' ^'^''' "^^-^^d!" him to crack a Ihtie T^'u"'^ ^"" '■^'^''■' "' ^ave sent <^ack a httle with the Frenchman. Hal sir. you 3<5o GEORGE III are young and you're nimble. Away with you, ye baggage; as if there were not troubles enough for a soldier, without having his camp filled with such prattling hussies as your- self!" Alice laughingly followed her sister, who instantly led the way from an apartment where she perceived their presence was no longer desirable. Munro, instead of demanding the result of the young man's mission, paced the room for a few moments, with his hands behind his back, and his head infclined towards the floor, and then sat down like a man lost in deep thought. Munro sat for a time utterly unconscious of the other's presence, his features exposed and working with the anguisli of his regrets, while heavy tears fell from his eyes, and rolled unheeded from his cheeks to the floor. At length he moved, as if suddenly recovering; when he arose, and taking a single turn across the room, he approached his companion with an air of military grandeur, and demanded— "Have you not. Major Heyward, some communication that I should hear from the Marquis de Montcalm?" Heyward started, in his turn, and immediately commenced, in an embarrassed voice, the half-forgotten message. It is unnecessary to dwell upon the evasive, though polite man- ner, with which the French general had eluded every attempt of Heyward to worm from him the purport of the communication he had proposed making, or on the decided, though still polished message, by which he now gave his enemy to understand that unless he chose to receive it in person, he should not receive it at all. As Munro listened to the detail of Heyward, the excited feelings of the father gradually gave way before the obligations of his station, and when the other was done, he saw before him nothing but the veteran, sweHing with the wounded feelings of a soldier. »(»-•!•»* AT THE ENDS OF THE EMl'lRE 36, an'Jv°nM''' '''^„'"°"S^' ^I^J°r Heyward!" exclaimed the angry old man; "enough to make a volume of comment ary on French civility. Here has this gentleman TnThed rne to a conference, and when I send hfm a cTpabL f su tu e. for ye're all that, Duncan, though your years ^e but lew, he answers me with a riddle •' ^ ,nZ^"'-?' i\"°^ * substitute clothed with all the power ^d dignity of him who grants the commission? He wishes to confer with Munrol Faith sir T h.^o i ",7'^"^^ to indulge th^ «,o V • 7 ' ' ^ '^^^^ '""^^fi inclination storming party Z* 21', f^' """ '" ""= '""^ "' ^ the countenance of U. !"'"« "■=*<"> »' P^o^K .0 the b:t::r/;:ren:rHo7er 5=,f;»-^™-"' tors we e fa ab^e IT' "°r" "'"""»■ °" »«- "I, ™ '" """''e such scientific cowardice!" -Pe. a" V« Vhr'i, t '"', "' "" "°" °"''^^"' '° the interview?" '^ '"■ "'='"'"■« '" "■= matter of "' "'" """' "" ^--"m-. -d tha. wiUrou. fear or 362 GEORGE III delay ; promptly, sir, as becomes a servant of my royal master. Go, Major Heyward, and give them a flourish of the music; and send out a messenger to let them know who is coming. We will follow with a small guard, for such respect is due to one who holds the honour of his king in keeping; and hark'ee, Duncan," he added, in a half whisper, though they were alone, "it may be prudent to have some aid at hand, in case there should be treach- ery at the bottom of it all." The young man availed himself of this order to quit the apartment ; and, as the day was fast coming to a close, he hastened, without delay, to make the necessary arrange- ments. A very few minutes only were necessary to parade a few files, and to despatch an orderly with a flag to announce the approach of the commandant of the fort. When Heyward had done both these he led the guard to the sally-port, near which he found his superior ready, waiting his appearance. As soon as the usual ceremonials of a military departure were observed, the veteran and his more youthful companion left the fortress, attended by the escort. They had proceeded only a hundred yards from the works, when the little array which attended the French general to the conference, was seen issuing from the hollow way, which formed the bed of a brook that ran between the batteries of the besiegers and the fort. From the moment that Munro left his own works to appear in front of his enemies, his air had been grand, and his step and count- enance highly military. The instant he caught a glimpse of the white plume that waved in the hat of Montcalm, his eye lighted, and age no longer appeared to possess any influence over his vast and still muscular person. "Speak to the boys to be watchful, sir," he said, in an undertone, to Major Heyward; "and to look well to their AT THE ENDS OF THE EMPIRE 363 fnl^'t T'' ^°'' °"' '' "'""'■ ''^' ^'*h a servant Of these Louis, at the same time, we will show them the front He was interrupted by the clamour of a drum from the approaching Frenchmen, which was immediately answered when each pa^ pushed an orderly in advance. blarTng clot at hS r\^'\-^ Scotsman halted, with Lis guard close at his back. As soon as this slight salutation had passed. Montcalm moved towards them with a quicK but graceful step, baring his head to the veteran, and droppLg his spotless plume neariy to the earth in courtesy. If thf both thfeT/",""' '^^^ d-^ and manly. It wanted both the ease and insinuating polish of that of the French- man. Neither spoke for a few moments, each regarding Ae other with curious and interested eyes. Then.' as be came his superior rank and the nature of the interview Montcalm broke the silence. After uttering the usual worls smile of recognition, speaking always in French- i:;a^tsey-^ ^" ----'- ^- tur^fnTTo"^ a^^l^nowledged the compliment, when Montcalm, turning to his guard, which, in imitation of that of theT^ enemies, pressed close upon him. continued- BeforM': '"^:;°^^'^^-'' fait chaud; retirez-vousun peu." fid!n e he H°' "IT"^ "°"^^ ^'"^'^^^ *i« proof of con- wth uLea intr:. ' ''" "°""' *^ P^^"' '^^ beheld who looked o„ f "r''°"' '*"'^' ^^°°P^ °f «^^ages. curioirrct^^rlTti^in^r^^^ ^^'^^^ --^. Ill 111 364 GEORGE III "Monsieur de Montcalm will readily acknowledge the difference in our situation," he said, with some embarrass ment, pointing at the same time towards those dangerous foes, who were to be seen in almost every direction. " Were we to dismiss our guard, we should stand here at the mercy of our enemies." " Monsieur, you have the plighted faith of ' un genti! homme Frangais," for your safety," returned Montcalm, la> ing his hand impressively on his heart; "it should suffice." "It shall. Fall back," Hey ward added to the officer who led the esaort; "fall back, sir, beyond hearing, and wait for orders," Munro witnessed this movement with manifest uneasiness; nor did he fail to demand an instant explanation. "Is it not our interest, sir, to betray no distrust?" retorted Heyward. "Monsieur de Montcalm pledges his word for our safety, and I have ordered the men to withdraw a little, in order to prove how much we depend on his assurance.' "It may be all right, sir, but I have no overweening reliance on the faith of these marquesses, or marquis, as they call themselves. Their patents of nobility are too com- mon to be certain that they bear the seal of true honour." "You forget, dear sir, that we confer with an officer, distinguished alike in Europe and America, for his deeds. From a soldier of his reputation we can have nothing to apprehend." The old man made a gesture of resignation, though his rigid features still betrayed his obstinate adherence to a distnst, which he derived from a sort of hereditary contempt of his enemy, rather than from any present signs which might warrant so uncharitable a feeling. Montcalm waited patiently until this litde dialogue in denii-voice was ended when he drew nigher, and opened the subject of their con- ference. AT THE ENDS OK THE EMPIRE 345 be pe^aded IhatT^ f ? '" "'" """'' himself ,0 ««- .„ JadmonWoS "oT Llt^'^r "'" "°" testimony that his resi„, ' °T ' ' '"■H for ever bear co-uinueS as ion'^Vrr^tpe •- " ^°"""'' '"" "- with d'n'; ^11 1"'""^'^'^'' '" »«""°' "= -""ed ..,, ' '^' ' "™ sufficient courtesy. MontX!" iiirbe ,^1' '"* ,-'™°n!' from Monsieur merited." " '^"""^ "'-=" i' ^^l be better P^«^7"^^^r:rot^- — .avehimthe «y bt"reL:dT:seror„r M^"-^™''^ ^°"^«- '» see my camn "'7'^°''*"'>5)■■ Monsieur would wish -^ the im^oTZCf hTS. 1 1 "''• 7 '"'■°'=- "I know that th^ ic "'^J[^^'^^'"g them, with success?" the unmoved SCO ,t"^^ ""' " "'" ^™^'" ^^--^ translation "but mvn "" T" "" "^^""^ ^"^ed his faithful tro^p ' ' °"" """^"^ ™^^'^'- J^'-^^ -« "^any and as wiZrwait^ i^ hif ' d°""r ^ ^°^ "^•" -^ ^-'-^-. is a desC in war n >°"k ''i ''" '"'^^P^^^^^' "Th^- submit, wth the!!me \'''^' "^^" '^^^^ how to "Had Tbeen '°"''^' '^"^ ^' ^^^^^ his foes." -aster of the Enlf^r f '' ^'""^'^"^ ^^-"^-'^ -s trouble of so tkl^H ''"'^ '^^^ ^^^^^ ^y^^'^ the Heyuard drnv I > ^ translation," said the vexed witl. Mun'ro ''' ^emen^benng instantly his recent by-play is a vast ditrent L " '""'".'" ' ^"' '^'''^- "''"h«^<^ '"erence between understanding and speaking a 366 GEORGE III foreign tongue; you will, therefore, please to assist me still." Then after a short pause, he added, "These hills afford us every opportunity of reconnoitring your works, messieurs, and I am possibly as well acquainte I with their weak con- dition as you can be yourselves." "Ask the French general if his glasses can reach to the Hudson," said Munro, proudly: "and if he knows when and where to expect the army of Webb." "Let general Webb be his own interpreter," returned the politic Montcalm, suddenly extending an open letter towards Munro, as he spoke ; " You will there learn, mon sieur, that his movements are not likely to prove embar rassing to my army." The veteran seized the offered paper, without waiting for Heyward to translate the speech, and with an eagerness that betrayed how important he deemed its contents. As his eye passed hastily over the words, his countenance changed from its look of military pride to one of deep chagrin : his lip began to quiver; and, suffering the paper to fall from his hand, his head dropped upon his chest, like that of a man whose hopes were withered at a single blow. Heyward caught the letter from the ground, and without apology for the liberty he took, he read at a glance its cruel purport. Their common superior, so far from encouraging them to resist, advised a speedy surrender, urging in the plainest language as a reason, the utter impossibility of his sending a single man to their rescue. "Here is no deception 1" exclaimed Heyward, examining the billet both inside and out; "this is the signature of Webb, and must be the captured letter." "The man has betrayed me!" Munro at length bitterly exclaimed: "he has brought dishonour to the door of one where disgrace was never before known to dwell, and shame has he heaped heavily on my grey hairs." AT THE ENDS OF THE EMPIRE „, "Say not so," cried HevwarH- " fort, and of our honour. Let us then "n''' "'"^^^'"^ °^*he ^ rate as shall make our enemTe, h V ""^ ""^^ ^' ^"^^h dear." ^"^'"'es believe the purchase too himfeTfim'ht tTpiXtul^ ''' °'' "'^"' ^°"«-S Munro of his duty. We^Z h'T '°'" °"^^' ^^'"'"^ed behind those ramparts " ^ ^'''' ""^ ^'^ °"r graves ^^^i^^SoSlnl^ri:^^^^^^^ towards them a V^^ran, if you believe h m caoZ r ' '"°" ^°"'« ^^ St. to humble brave men, TtoTuild? 'li"''"^ ^^ ^^'^ ^^^^^^ for himself. Listen to my term k? ' "^''^^"^^^ ^^P^^ation "^hat says the Frenchm n ■ H " T ''''' "''■" ^tefnly; "does he make a ^rit ^f ha?'"''' ^'^ ^^^^-". -th a note from head-quarte? . 3^?.^"' ^ "°"^' this siege, to go and sit down h^f \f ^"^ ^^^^' ^^^e to frighten his enemy 4h Tord '• " ^'"^"' ^^ ^^ -»>- Heyward explained th*. nfK^ • ' "Monsieur de Montr.. ' '"'""'"«• ^'^::^i^^---enS:^^°^^^^ '^ should be destroy^. bu*rr°''"^ '"^^^^^ that brave comrades, there is no n • , ^""'^^^^es. and your «hall be denied." ° ^^^''^^^ ^^^r to a soldier that ;; Our colours ? " demanded Heyward "Ou?sZr' ^° ^"^^^"^' -^ ^how them to your king." "Shall Tbe don""'°''^ °'*^ P^««?" selves." ""^"^ ^" ^ ^ay most honourable to your 368 GEORGE III commander, who heard him with amazement, and a sen- sibility that was deeply touched by so unusual and unex- pected generosity. "Go you, Dun m," he said; "go with this marquess, as indeed marquess he should be-, go to his marquee, and arrange it all. I have lived to see two things in my old age, that never did I expect to behold. An Englishm.in afraid to support a friend, and a Frenchman too honest to profit by his advantage." So saying, the veteran again dropped his head to his chest, and returned slowly towards the fort, exhibiting, by the dejection of his air, to the anxious garrison, a harbinger of evil tidings. From the shock of this unexpected blow the haughty feelings of Munro never recovered; but from that moment there commenced a change in his determined character wliich accompanied nim to a speedy grave. Heyward remained to settle the terms of the capitulation. He was seen to re-enter the works during the first watches of the night, and immediately after a private conference with the com- mandant, to leave them again. It was than openly announ- ced, that hostilities must cease -Munro having signed a treaty, by which the place was to be yielded to the enemy, with the morning; the garrison to retain their arms, their colours, and their baggage, and consequently, according to military opinion, their honour. The hostile armies, which lay inthe wildsoftheHorican, passed the night of the ninth of August, 1757, much in the manner they would had they encountered on the fairest field of Europe. While the conquered were still, sullen, and dejected, the victors triumphed. But there are limits, alike to grief and joy; and long before the watches of the morning came, the stillness of those boundless woods was only broken by a gay call from some exulting young AT THE KNDS OF THK KMPIRK 369 Frenchman of the advanced pickets, or a menacing chal- lenge from the fort, which sternly forbade the approach of any hostile footsteps before the stipulated moment. Even these occasional threatening sounds ceased to be heard in that dull hour which precedes the day, at which period a listener might have sought in vain any evidence of the presence of those armed powers that then slumbered on the shores of the "holy lake." It was during these moments of deep sUence, that the canvas which concealed the entrance to a spacious marqude m the French encampment was shoved aside, and a man issued from beneath the drapery into the open air He was enveloped in a cloak that might have been intended as a protection from the chilling damps of the woods, but which served equally well as a mantle, to conceal his person He was permitted to pass the grenadier, who watched over the slumbers of the French commander, without interruption the man making the usual salute which betokens militant deference, as the other passed swiftly through the litUe city of tents, in the direction of William Henry. Whenever this unknown individual encountered one of the numberless sentinels who crossed his path, his answer was prompt, and as ,t appeared satisfactory; for he was uniformly allowed to proceed, without further interrogation. With the exception of such repeated, but brief interrup- tions. he had moved, silently, from the camp, to its most advanced outposts, when he drew nigh the soldier who held his watch nearest to the works of the enemy. As he approached he was received with the usual challen?e- Qm vive?" "France." was the reply. "Le mot d'ordre?" h2^ •J''''f^i' l^"^ '^^ °'^'''' ^'•"^•"S so nigh as to be neara m a loud whisper. 370 GEORGK III "C'est bien," returned the sentinel, throwing his musket from the charge to his shoulder ;"vou8vouspromenezbicn matin, monsieur!" "II est ntfcessaire d'etre vigilant, mon enfant," the other observed, dropping a fold of his cloak, and looking the soldier close in the face, as he passed him, still continuini,' his way towards the British fortification. The man started; his arms rattled heavily, as he threw them forward, in the lowest and most respectful salute; and when he had a,i;ain recovered his piece, he turned to walk his post, muttering between his teeth— "II faut Stre vigilant, en v^rit^l je crois que nous avons li, un caporal qui ne dort jamais!" The officer proceeded, without affecting to hear the words which escaped the sentinel in his surprise; nor did he again pause until he had reached the low strand, and in a somewhat dangerous vicinity to the western water bastion of the fort. The light of an obscure moon was just sufficient to render objects, though dim, perce, le in their outlines. He, therefore, took the precautior place himself against the trunV of a tree, where he L ned for many minutes, and seemed to contemplate the dark and silent mounds of the English works in profound attention. His gaze at the ramparts was not that of a curious or idle spectator; but his looks wandered from point to point, denoting his knowledge of military usages, and betraying that his search was not unaccompanied by distrust. At length he ap. ued satisfied; and having cast his eyes im patiently upward towards the summit of the eastern moun- tain, as if anticipating the approach of the morning, he was in the act of turning on his footsteps, when a light sound on the nearest angle of the bastion caught his ear, and induced him to remain. Just then a figure was seen to approach the edge of the AT THE ENDS OF THE EMPIRE 37, .he n,ou„d, a„ds.enKd^te„t/';™'r''''''=^"« of the waeera which lit. . , "^ *'*'' '"P-mse with i„ >hTu'j„d'l^^,^r.,t'"TT; "TTy"'"'' hour, together with .l" v ' fra Je „fT "'"°'\"'' *= ine tree for that purpose, when another sound ,l„ u ;.ttent,on, and once more arrested hirfootsteof I, low, and almost inaudible movement of thf,' T" " succeeded by a eratini rf lin "a'er, and was in a mon.en'; IfZVZT: Z T^ "' """■ .he lake, and steal without furthe ."'t", ',3 ""'j' "ersiX-t^-hJ-r- r ^^^^^^^ .^,^e.rei.couldbedisch::^tl"S::- open his c oil ; ' ' '""^"' ' ^'*=^™- '^''^^". '^rowing or St. Lout thi h " '° "'°'' ''^ ""''°™ -d 'h- "o« sternly delndet"' '"'"'' '^ '" '""'' '^*^°"^^^'- between the English and his Canadian Father?" E E >li 37« GEORGE III "What can the Huroni do?" returned the tavage, speaking also, though imperfftctly, in the French language. " Not a warrior has a scalp, and the pale faces make friends!" "Ha! Le Renard Subtil 1 Methtnks this is an exnss of zeal for a friend who was so late la enemy! Hew many suns have set since Le Renard struck the war post of the English?" "Where is that sun!" -lemanded the sullen savage. "Behind the hill; and it is dark and cold. But when he comes again, it will be bright and warm. Le Subtil is the sun of his tribe. There have been clouds, and many mount*., as between him and his nation; but now he shines. and i: is a clear sky!" "That Le Renard has power with his people, I well know," said Montcalm; "for yesterday he hunted for their scalps, and to-day they hear him at the council fire." "Magua is a great chief." "Let him prove it, by teaching his nation how to conduct towards our new friends." "Why did the chief of the Canadas bring his young men into the woods, and fire his cannon at the earthen house:" demanded the subtle Indian. "To subdue it. My master owns the land, and your father was ordered to drive off these English squatters. They have consented to go, and now he calls them enemies no longer." "'Tis well. Magua took the hatchet to colour it with blood. It is now bright; when it is red, it shall be buried.' "But Magua is pledged not to sully the lilies of France. The enemies of the great king across the salt lake are his enemies ; his friends, the friends of the Hurons." "Friends!" repeated the Indian, in scorn. "Let his father give Magua a hand." Montcalm, who felt that his influence over the warlike AT THE ENDS OF THE EMPIRE „, request. The savar.rcTd fi "'^"?' -'h the others mander on a deep sea •„. " '"''"'^ ™"^- demanded- ^ " ^" ''"'*"'"' ^"^^ ^hcn exulti„,ly "Does my father knoNv that: ■• has cut"^ ""'" '"^^ "'^'- ''^ -'^ere a leaden hullet calico mantle. ' "'''' ''''*'"« *"''o»' '- usual donlt!;"' "" '" '^^" ^^'^'^^ -i"-^. here, who ha, >augh. which did no 'conceaT th/'; ""'^' """ ^ ^°"- choked him Then r^^u . "'^^ '^"'^' 'hat nearly native dignity, e add:^'' Co"^ ^''' ''^'''^ -^ i« peace. Le Renard S„hn ^ ^°"' ^'°""« •"^'"- >' Huron warrior ' ''"°^'' ^°^ ^° ^P^^^ to a arm, and moved sileTy t^ou'h f ' "' ''' '°""^ °' ^'^ the woods where hi. I ?^ ^ encampment towards few yards Jhe proceerdr' ""^"^" ^° '•^- *^-n^ 'inels; but he sXh s^^f . ''"' '^""""^^^ ^^ '^e sen the summon of the so d? ' '"T'' ""^^'^ ^.^egarding because they kne^ th. ' T^° ^^'^ ^^^^^^ his life Obstinate dafing"o7af Indtn"' ''''' "° '''' ^'^^ ^^« wherrh:tadt:n1eftTh"' '""^"^'^'^ °" '^^ --^' on the temper whichv' ^^'"P^"'^"' brooding deepi; covered. Already had his f ""f ^^™^^'^ -"^ had just di. horrid scene Zdt """' ^""" ^"'^^ed by one ne. and m circumstances fearfully resembling 374 GEORGE III those under which he now found himself. As he mused he became keenly sensible of the deep responsibility they assume, who disregard the means to attain their end, and of all the danger of setting in motion an engine which it exceeds human power to control. Then shaking off a train of reflections that he accounted a weakness in such a moment of triumph, he retraced his steps towards his tent. giving the order as he passed, to make the signal that should arouse the army from its slumbers. The first tap of the French drums was echoed from the bosom of the fort, and presently the valley was filled witli the strains' of martial music, rising long, thrilling, and lively above the rattling accompaniment. The horns of the victors sounded merry and cheerful flourishes, until the last laggard of the camp was at his post; but the instant the British fifes had blown their shrill signal, they became mute In the meantime the day had dawned, and when the line of the French army was ready to receive its general the rays of a brilliant sun were glancing along the glittering array Then that success, which was already so well known. was officially announced; the favoured band who were selected to guard the gates of the fort were detailed and defiled before their chief; the signal of their approach was given and all the usual preparations for a change of masters were ordered and executed directiy under the guns of the contested works. A very diff'erent scene presented itself within the lines of the Anglo-American army. As soon as the warning signal was given, it exhibited all the signs of a hurried and forced departure. The sullen soldiers shouldered their empty tubes and fell into their places, like men whose blood had been heated by the past contest, and who only desired the opportunity to revenge an indignity which was still wouuding to their pride, concealed as it was under AT THE ENDS OF THE EMPIRE 375 all the observances of military etiquette. Women and children ran from place to place, some bearing t^e scanty remnants of their baggage, and others searching nThe ranks for those countenances they looked up to for protection Munro appeared among his silent troops firm but deSed It was evident that the unexpected blow had struck deeo mto bs heart, though he struggled to sustain his mi fortune with the port of a man. "iMoriune Major Heyward was touched at the quiet and impressive xhibition of his grief He had discharged his own du^! and he now pressed to the side of the old man. to know m what particular he might serve him ;;My daughters," v,: s the brief but expressive reply. Good heavens! are not arrangements already made for their convenience?" children." ^°" ''" "' ''""" '"^" ^° ^' "^^ Heyward had heard enough. Without losing one of those moments which had now become so predous, Se flew owa^ds the quarters of Munro, in quest of the si ter . He found them on the threshold of the low edifice, already weeX '" 'tr ' ^"' ^""°""^^^ ^^ ^ clamo;ou and bout fh/T ''' :' '''" °"" '''' *^^^ had gathered that . f. • ""•' " '°" °^ ''^^'•'^^^^^^ consciousness hat .t was the pomt most likely to be protected. Thou-^h t^d L^t °" T: ''''' ^"' ""'' ^'^""'— -^^i were nfl^eH°°"'/?'' '™'^'^^' ^"^ ^^ ^>'^« ^^ Alice had wenr^l: "\^ ^''"""^^^ h°^^ ^°°g -nd bitterly she had wept. They both, however, received the young man with^undisguised pleasure; the former, being the fi'rsHo "Z.1 ^°'' '' i°'''" '^^ '^'^ ^^* ^ melancholy smile: though our good name, I trust, remains." 376 GEORGE III " 'Tis brighter than ever. But, dearest Miss Munro, it is time to think less of others, and to make some provision for yourself. Military usage-pride -that pride on which you so much value yourself, demands that your father and I should for a little while continue with the troops. Then where to seek a proper protector for you against the con- fusion and chances of such a scene ? " "None is necessary," returned Cora; "who will dare to injure or insult the daughter of such a father, at a time like this?" "I would not leave you alone," continued the youth, look ing about him in a hurried manner, "for the command of the best regiment in the pay of the king. Remember, our Alice is not gifted with all your firmness, and God only knows the terror she might endure." "You may be right," Cora replied, smiling again, but far more sadly than before. Heyward assured them he had done the best that circumstances permitted, and, as he believed, quite enough for the security of their feelings-, of danger there was none. He then spoke gladly of his intention to rejoin them the moment he had led the advance a few miles towards the Hudson, and immediately took his leave. By this time the signal of departure had been given, and the head of the English column was in motion. The sisters started at the sound, and glancing their eyes around, they saw the white uniforms of the French grenadiers, who had already taken possession of the gates of the fort. At that moment, an enormous cloud seemed to pass suddenly above their heads, and looking upward, they discovered that they stood beneath the wide folds of the standard of France. "Let us go," said Cora; "this is no longer a fit place for the children of an English officer." Alice clung to the arm of her sister, and together they II MOVING SLOWLY ACROSS THE PLAIN. Foe* p. 371 AT THE ENDS OF THE EMPIRE 377 IlllVdTht """^^"^^^ '' ''^ --^"^ throng that ever, to intrude those atten^ons tlich ?. '""^' '°"- peculiar tact, might not bTZZaU^ a^7 ""' "'^' and each beast of h„rH.„ agreeable. As every vehicle wounded, cr h^a^dSeJ l^nd^ th^ t- ''' T his IxhausteTLt ^ V^lroTtrT"^' " '^^^ want of the necessary me.n, r ''°'"'""'' ^°'" ^^e ness The 2Z Z conveyance, in that wilder- and sullen; and the woLn "d'jh Id^I comrades, silent knew not of what. ''^'^" '" ^^^O"-' they As the confused and timid throne left th. . ■ mounds of the fnrt o«^ • ^ ^ " ^"^ protectmg "I tne lort, and issued on the ooen nhm fh u , scene was at once presented to their eves A , ,' .°'' tance on the riaht inH c '" ^"^ "^ ^yes. At a little dis- omy stoo^to thL jm^^^"'^"^ ;" *^^ ^^^' the French parties, as soon Ts Ts ' . T u"^ ^^""^ ^°"^*=t^d his works. They were attei "^T ^.'^ P°^'^^^^^°" °f the proceedings of ThTva^Sdr,"' °'"""^ °^ ^^^ ■ated miliary ZoZs^t^"^^^^ their succesV to their '" ;'^'""° "° ^^""t or insult, in of the Enll 'sh to r ''""''' '■°^^- ^^""^ ™-««es th*ousand,lt\:v; IZ^^Lt'^'V' '''- ''-' common centre and ar^rTi P'^'"' ^"^^^'•ds the they convergld'to L ' ^PP^oached each other, as through the' ofty ,rt T K^'"^ ™^"^' ^ ^'^'^ -t entered the fo I a ' u '^^ '"^"^ ^^ ^''^ Hudson woods, hung rtkdoL'of '""'''"^ '°^'^^« «^t^^ of their enemies id ho. '''^^"' '^"'"^ '^' P^««-« ' ^^ ^^^^'""g' ^t a distance, like vultuies, 378 GEORGE III who where only kept from stooping on their prey, by the presence and restraint of a superior army. A few had straggled among the conquered columns, where they stalked in sullen discontent; attentive, though, as yet, passive ob- servers of the moving multitude. The advance, with Major Heyward at its head, had already reached the defile, and was slowly disappearing, when the attention of Cora Munro was drawn to a collection of stragglers, by the sounds of contention. A truant provincial was pay ing the forfeit of his disobedience, by being plundered of those very effects which had caused him to desert his place in the ranks. The man was of powerful frame, and too avaricious to part with his goods without a struggle. Indi- viduals from either party interfered; the one side to prevent, and the other to aid in the robbery. Voices grew loud and angry, and a hundred savages appeared, as it were Ly magic, where a dozen only had been seen a minute before. It was then that Cora saw the form of Magua gliding among his countrymen, and speaking with his fatal and artful eloquence. The mass of women and children stopped, and hovered together hke alarmed and fluttering birds. But the cupidity of the Indian was soon gratified, and the different bodies again moved slowly onward. The savages now fell back, and seemed content to let their enemies advance without further molestation. But as the female crowd approached them, the gaudy colours of a shawl attracted the eyes of a wild and untutored Huron. He advanced to seize it, without the least hesitation. The woman, more in terror than through love of the ornament, wrapped her child in the coveted article, and folded both more closely to her bosom. Cora was in the act of speaking, with an intent to advise the woman to abandon the trifle, when the savage relinquished his hold of the shatti, and tore the screaming infant trom her arms. Abandoning AT THE ENDS OF THE EMPIRE 379 everything to the greedy grasp of those around her the mo^er darted with distraction in her mien, to recla!:i her child. The Indian smiled grimly, and extended one hand Z T °': Y"""«"ess to exchange, while, with the other.' he flourished the babe over his head, holding it by the feet as if to enhance the value of the ransom. J^^'^I?^'^~^^"^~^'~^"y~^^^^*h'"g' " exclaimed the breathless woman; tearing the lighter articles of dress from her person, with iU^Iirected and trembling fingers •- take all. but give me my babe!" rh.?tt T^^i uT'*^ '^^ ^^""'^^"'^ '^S'' ^'^d perceiving hat the shawl had already become a prize to another, his bantering but sullen smile changing to a gleam of ferocity, he dashed the head of the infant against a rock, and casi Its quivering remains to her very feet. For an instant, the mother stood, like a statue of despair, looking wildly down at the unseemly object, which had so lately nestled in her bosom and smiled in her face; and then she raised her eyes and countenance towards heaven, as if calling on God to curse tiie perpetrator of the foul deed. She was spared the sm of such a prayer; for. maddened at his disappoint- ment, and excited at the sight of blood, the Huron mercifully ZT )^ 't'"^^^^'^ '"*° her own brain. The mother sank under the blow, and fell, grasping at her child, in death, with the same engrossing love that had caused her to cherish It when living. huV^l '^^"^^'■^"^ '"°'"ent Magua placed his hands to bound t 1 '"' 'T'^ ^' '^' well-known cr>^ as coursers bound at the signal to quit the goal; and. directly, there arose such a yell along the plain, and through the arches ot the wood as seldom burst from human lips before. fore,r. r ^° '^'"'"'^"^ '^^^"S «^^^ges broke from the lorest at the signal, and threw themselves across the fatal 38o GEORGE in I M plain with instinctive alacrity, We shall not dwell on the revolting horrors that succeeded. Death was everywhere, and in his most terrific and disgusting aspects. Resistance only served to inflame the murderers, who inflicted their furious blows long after their victims were beyond the power of their resentment. The flow of blood might be likened to the outbreaking of a torrent; and as the natives became heated and maddened by the sight, many among them even kneeled to the earth, and drank freely, exultingly, hellishly, of the crimson tide. The trailed bodies of the troops threw themselves quickly into solid masses, endeavouring to awe their assailants by the imposing appearance of a military front. The experimein in some measure succeeded, though far too many sufilered their unloaded muskets to be torn from their hands, in the vain hope of appeasing the savages. In such a scene none had leisure to note the fleeting moments. It might have been ten minutes (it seemed an age), that the sisters had stood riveted to one spot, horror- stricken, and nearly helpless. When the first blow was struck, their screaming companions had pressed upon them in a body, rendering flight impossible; and now that fear or death, had scattered most, if not all, from around them, they saw no avenue open, but such as conducted to the tomahawks of their foes. On evtiy side arose shrieks, groans, exhortations, and curses. At this moment, Alice Munro caught a glimpse of the vast form of her father, movir rapidly across the plain, in the direction of the Frenc army. He wa ,. in truth, proceeding to Montcalm, fearless of every danger, to claim the tardy escort, for which he had before conditioned. Fifty glittering axes and barbed spears, were offered unheeded at his life, but the savages respected his rank and calmness, even in their fury. The dangerous weapons were brushed aside by the still ncrvuub AT THE ENDS OF THE EMPIRE 381 arm of the veteran, or fell of themselves, after menacing an act that it would seem no one had courage to perform. Fortunately the vindictive Magua was searching for his victim in the very band the veteran had just quitted. " Father- father-we are here!" shrieked Alice, as he passed, at no great distance, without appearing to heed them. "Come to us, father, or we die!" The cry was repeated, and in terms and tones that might have melted a heart of stone, but it was unanswered. Once, indeed, the old man appeared to catch the sounds, for he paused and listened; but Alice had dropped senseless on the earth, and Cora had sunk at her side, hovering in untiring tenderness over her lifeless form. Munro shook his head in disappoint- ment, and proceeded, bent on the high duty of his station. "Lady," said her attendant, who, helpless and useless as he was, had not yet dreamed of deserting his trust, "it is the jubilee of the devils, and this is not a meet place for Christians to tarry in. Let us up and fly." Go," said Cora, still gazing at her unconscious sister; "save thyself To me thou canst not be of further use." The man comprehended the unyielding character of her resolution, by the simple but expressive gesture that accom- panied her words Ho gazed, for a moment, at tlie dusky forms that were acting their hellish rites on every side of him, and his tall person grew more erect, while his chest heaved, and every feature swelled, and seemed to speak with the power of the feelings by which he was governed. "If the Jewish boy might tame the evil spirit of Saul by the sound of his harp, and the words of sacred song, it may not be amiss," he said, "to try the potency of music here." Then raising his voice to its highest tones, he poured out a strain so powerful as to be heard even amid the din of that bloody field. More than one savage rushed towards them, thinking to rifle the unprotected sisters of their attire, m 38a GEORGE in and bear away their scalps; but when they found this strange and unmoved figure riveted to his post, they paused to listen. Astonishment soon changed to admiration, and they passed on to other, and less courageous, victims, openly expressing their satisfaction at the firmness with which the white warrior sang his death-song. The cruel work was still unchecked. On every side tlie captured were flying before their relentless persecutors, while the armed columns of the Christian king stood fast in an apathy which has never been explained, and which has left an immovable blot on the otherwise fair escutcheon of their leader. Nor was the sword of death stayed until cupidity got the mastery of revenge. Then, indeed, the shrieks of the wounded and the yells of their murderers grew less frequent, until, finally, the cries of horror were lost to their ear, or were drowned in the loud, long, and piercing whoops of the triumphant savages. Fenimore Cooper, The Last of tlu Mohicans. VICTORIA THK NKW LEADERS two of its delegates who waited onT"'*""' '°"''^''"« ^^ common with U'r ^X of h^^^^^^^^ to call his particular attent.on to tl n^S P °'"''' which the Convention had prepared anHKu""'°" course of the session was to^TellH k V"' members for Birmingham '^ ''*^ ^^ °"" °f '^^ delegate^oTheX^ '"^h^ *'"^ '"^ ^^^^^••' ^^^ one ought io be""whh 1 to }''\'^\''^-^ough Base: he fiddler; but I rder^f.nHT'' ' ^°' ^'^ ^''^'' ^^ °">>' - married a lido:X ji^ '' '""' " "^^^°"^^ ^"^ ^- "Well, knock." ^' carTof''ttXtra:or°^ t '°'"^' ''^ ^ ^ ^he imended 4h but t^^'"^ °^ '^' ''^"^"^ o^'^eir No. Ts i^ L; same !. 7 "'' ^'' '"'"^ °" *he subject. Here resided^ ^^^tu^^ 'Tf '1'.^'" "^^^ ^°"«--'y- if not with int^esf to t '• °. '''■ ''''""'"« "'^^ P^^^^"<^e forms ofgo4tment wer^ f '''"'"^' ^PP"«^^ 'h^'" that policy of no'^res Z ?h ° ^°"^.^^"«"^^. -"d domestic should engag^^e atte^l 7 T °"^^ ""^ ^"^^^^^ which thing depended on". !r °^ P"^''*= '"^"' ^^^^"^e every- epended on it.-that was our external system; and 384 VICTORIA that the only specific for a revival of trade and the con- tentment of the people, was a general settlement of the boundary questions. Finally, Mr. Kremlin urged upon the National Convention to recast their petition with this view, assuring them that on foreign policy they would have the public with them. The deputation in reply might have referred as an evi. dence of the general interest excited by questions of foreign policy, to the impossibility even of a leader making a house on one; and to the fact that there are not three men in the House of Commons who even pretend to have any acquaintance with the external circumstances of the countrj'; they might have added, that even in such an assembly Mr. Kremlin himself was distinguished for ignorance, for he had only one idea,— and that was wrong. Their next visit was to Wriggle, a member for a metropolitan district, a disciple of Progress, who went with the times, but who took particular good care to ascertain their com- plexion ; and whose movements if expedient could partake of a regressive character. As the Charter might some day turn up trumps as well as so many other unexpected cards and colours, Wriggle gave his adhesion to it, but of course only provisionally; provided that is to say, he might vote against it at present. But he saw no harm in it -not he, and should be prepared to support it when circumstances, that is to Hay the temper of the times, would permit him. More coul'd hardly be expected from a gentlemen in the delicate position in which Wriggle found himself at this moment, for he had solicited a baronetcy of the whigs, and had secretly pledged himself to Taper to vote against them on the impending Jamaica division. Bombastes Rip snubbed them, which was hard, for he had been one of themselves, had written confidential letters in 1831 to the secretary of the Treasury, and "provided THE NEW LEADERS ^ his expenses were paid." offered to come ,,n from ,h. manufactunnK town he now presented. Tt th hcTd o ! hundred thousand men. and hum down ^psey Hou e /uu now Bombastes Rip talked of the great n> .h" diss o pubhc order and public credit. He would . 7/^ to them hilt h«A »- • wouiu ;ia\c said nioro Float^ell received them in the poiuest manner thou- h he du^^not agree with them. What he J,J al, , was difficult to say. Clever, brisk, . ui ,. tiL;' " h In university reputation and without nitrir.n r m srunkfromthe^ilsofaproSLrr-'t^^^^^ skurry of reform found himself to his a.tomslu.Knt . F raSieTnew't; t '1 "T''''' ''' ^^^ e^orated w;;^ ^1^ ^i::^/ -- ^ -r s b,;%r.t':J«--- °^-ry subject wht'cod possiDly engage the attention of a public man H^ ha"d Vd^ed"' °' r^'^^' "^^•°-' - ^^^^ i " nofhi ;tf'iifr2sidurs'': ^^^"'^'"^°"- ^-^ '^^^ -- superficial habits Tbus„es whTcr^ '' '^'"' ^'^^^ conduct of ordinary aS «L T^ ''°'"'''''"' '° ''^^ of the slamr nf.^ ?' ^ ^''^''^'^ "P '" ^''"e some oncT wkh f °^,f ^"^'"^^^J ^"e^tions. Floatwell began at nobody en^ed h,m ,t; he hoarded his sixpences withou ^xcmng any- eviI emulation. He was one of those charac m^giL th^^^^^^ ^" *''"«^ ^'^""^ ^-- isolation, and who ™th s^ml \"^ ^'"'"^ °" '^ *^^y ^^ 'seeping company Tdlen Tomet af ' ^''™^^'"^- "^ ^^^^ ^'^^^ ^ and who h. ^ personage who was on the shelf. mm ot It alter dmner, would sooner or later turn K F 11 386 VICTORIA out the man. At present, Floatwell swore by Lord Dunder- head; and the jame of this little coterie, who dined to- gether and thought they were a party, was to be courteous to the Convention. After the endurance of an ^Jmost interminable lecture on the currency from Mr. Kite, who would pledge himself to the charter if the charter would pledge itself to one- pound notes, the two delegates had arrived in Piccadilly, and the next member upon their list was Lord Valentine. "It is two o'clock," said one of the delegates, "I think we may venture;" so they knocked at the portal of the court yard, and found they were awaited. A private staircase lead to the suite of rooms of Lord Valentine, who lived in the family mansion. The delegates were ushered through an ante-chamber into a saloon whicli opened into a very fanciful conservatory, where amid tall tropical plants, played a fountain. The saloon was hung with blue satin, and adorned witV brilliant mirrors; its coved ceiling was richly painted, a, • its furniture became the rest of its decorations. On one sofa were a number of portfolios, some open, full of drawings of costumes ; a table of pietra dura was covered with richly bound volumes that appeared to have been recently referred to; several ancient swords of extreme beauty were lying on a couch; in a corner of the room was a figure in complete armour, black and gold richly inlaid, and grasping in its gauntlet the ancient standard of England. The two delegates of the National Convention stared at each other, as if to express their surprise that a dweller in such an abode should ever have permitted them to enter it; but ere either of them could venture to speak, Lord Valentine made his appearance. He was a young man, above the middle height, slender, broad-shouldered, small-waisted, of a graceful presence; he THE NEW LEADERS 387 was ven fair, with dark blue eyes, bright and intelligent, and features of classic precision; a small Greek cap crown- ed his long light-brown hair, and he was enveloped in a morning robe of Indian shawls. "Well, gentiemen," said his lordship, as he invited them to be seated, in a clear and cheerful voice, and with an unaffected tone of frankness which put his guests at their ease; "I promised to see you; well, what have you got to say?" The delegates made their accustomed statement; they wished to pledge no one; all that the people desired was a respectful discussion of their claims; the national petition, signed by nearly a million and a half of the flower of the working classes, was shortly to be presented to the House of Commons, praying the House to take into consider- ation the five points in which the working classes deemed their best interests involved; to wit, universal suffrage, vote by ballot, annual parliaments, salaried members, and the abolition of the property qualification. "And supposing these five points conceded," said Lord Valentine, "what do you mean to do?" "The people then being at length really represented," replied one of the delegates, "they would decide upon ihe measures which the interests of the great majority require." "I am not so clear about that," said Lord Valentine; "that is th- very point at issue. I do not think the great majority are the best judges of their own interests. At all events, gentlemen, the respective advantages of aristocracy and democracy are a moot point. Well then, finding the question practically settled in this country, you will excuse me for not wishing to agitate it. I give you complete credit for the sincerity of your convictions; extend the same confidence to me. You are democrats; I am an aristocrat. My family has been ennobled for nearly tliree 388 VICTORIA centuries; they bore a knightly name before their eleva- tion. They have mainly and materially assisted in makmg England what it is. They have shed their blood in many battles; I have had two ancestors killed in the command of our fleets. You will not underrate such services, even if you do not appreciate their conduct as statesmen, though that has often been laborious, and sometimes dis- tinguished. The finest trees in England were planted by my family ; they raised several of your most beautiful churches; they have built bridges, made roads, dug mines, and constructed canals, and drained a marsh of •a million of acres which bears our name to this day, and is now one of the most flourishing portions of the country. You talk of our taxation and our wars; and of your inventions and your industry. Our wars converted an island into an empire, and at any rate developed that industry and stimulated those inventions of which you boast. You tell me that you are the delegates of the un- represented working classes of Mowbray. Why, what would Mowbray have been if it had not been for your aristocracy and their wars ? Your town would not have existed; there would have been no working classes there to send up delegates. In fact you owe your very existence to us. I have told you what my ancestors have done; I am prepared, if the occasion requires it, not to disgrace them; I have inherited their great position, and I tell you fairly, gentle- men, I will not relinquish it without a struggle." "WiU you combat the people in that suit of armour, my lordl" said one of the delegates smiling, but in a tone of kindness and respect. , . r » "That suit of armour has combated for the people betore this," said Lord Valentine, "for it stood by Simon de Montfort on the field of Evesham." "My lord," said the other delegate, "it is well known THE NEW LEADERS 389 that you come from a great and honoured race ; and we have seen enough to-day to show that in intelligence and spirit you are not unworthy of your ancestry. But the great question, which your lordship has introduced, not us, is not to be decided by a happy instance. Your ancestors may have done great things. What wonder! They were members of a very limited class which had the monopoly of action. And the people, have not they shed their blood in battle, though they may have commanded fleets less often than your lordship's relatives ? And these mines and canals that you have excavated and constructed, these woods you have planted, these waters you have drained— had the people no hand in these creations ? What share in these great works had that faculty of Labour whose sacred claims we now urge, but which for centuries have been passed over in contemptuous silence ? No, my lord, we call upon you to decide this question by the result. The Aristocracy of England have had for three centuries the exercise of power; for the last century and a half that exercise has been uncontrolled ; they form at this moment the most prosperous class that the history of the world can furnish : as rich as the Roman senators, with sources of convenience and enjoyment which modern science could alone supply. All this is not denied. Your order stands before Europe the most gorgeous of existing spectacles ; though you have of late years dexterously thrown some of the odium of your polity upon that middle class which you despise, and who are despicable only because they imitate you, your tenure of power is not in reality impaired. You govern us still with absolute authority,— and you govern the most miserable people on th» face of the globe." "And is this a fair description of the people of England?" said Lord Valentine. "A flash of rhetoric, I presume, that would place them lower than the Portu- I 390 VICTORIA guese or the Poles, the serfs of Russia or the Lazzaroni of Naples." "Infinitely lower," said the delegate, "for they are not only degraded, but conscious of their degradation. They no longer believe in any innate difference between the governing and the governed classes of this country. They are sufficiently enlightened to feel they are victims. Com- pared with the privilef,'ed classes of their own land, they are in a lower state than any other population compared with its privileged classes. All is relative, rny lord, and believe me, the relations of the working classes of England to its pri- vileged orders are relations of enmity, and therefore of peril." "The people must have leaders," said Lord Valentine. "And they have found them," said the delegate. "When it comes to a push they will follow their nobility," said Lord Valentine. "Will their nobility lead them?" said the other delegate. "For my part I do not pretend to be a philosopher, and if I saw Simon de Montfort again I should be content to fight under his banner." "We have an aristocracy of wealth," said the delegate who had chiefly spoken. "In a progressive civilization wealth is the only means of class distinction: but a new- disposition of wealth may remove even this." "Ah! you want to get at our estates,' said Lord Valen tine smiling; "but the effort on your part may resolve society into its original elements, and the old sources of distinction may again develop themselves." "Tall barons will not stand against Paixhans rocket-;, ' said the delegate. "Modern science has vindicated the natural equality of man." "And I must sav I am very sorry for it," said the other delegate; "for human strength always seems to me the natural process of settling affairs." AND THE PEOPLE, HAVE THKY NOT SHED THEIR BLOOD IN BATTLE ? " Fact p. jgo ^^5P?B5rs^?3rTrrii THE NEW LEADERS 391 "I am not surprised at your opinion, " said Lord Valen- tine, turning to the delegate and smiling. "I should not be over-glad to meet you in a fray. You stand some inches above six feet, or I am mistaken." "I was six feet two inches when I stopped growing," said the delegate; "and age has not stolen any of my height yet." "That suit of armour would fit you," said Lord Valen- tine, as they all rose. "And might I ask your lordship," said the tall delegate, "why it is here?" "I am to represent Richard Coeur de Lion at the queen's ball," said Lord Valentine; "and before my sovereign I will not doff a Drur}-Lane cuirass, so I got this up from my father's castle." "Ah I I almost wish the good old times of Cceur de Lion were here again," said the tall delegate. "And we should be serfs," said his companion. "I am not sure of that," said the tall delegate. "At any rate there was the free forest." "I like that young fellow, " said the tall delegate to his companion, as they descended the staircase. "He has awful prejudices, " said his friend. " Well, well ; he has his opinions and we have ours. But he is a man ; with clear, straightforward ideas, a frank, noble presence ; and as good-looking a fellow as I ever set eyes on. AVTiere are we now?" "We have only one more name on our list to-day, and it is at hand. Letter K, No. i, Albany. Another member of the aristocracy, the Honourable Charles Egremont." "Well, I prefer them, as far as I can judge, to Wriggle, and Rip, and Thorough Base," said the tall delegate, laugh- ing. "I dare say we should have found Lord Milford a very jolly fellow, if he had only been up." g.te-n.HWUg.t.-^ 3^9 VICTORIA "Here we are," said his companion, as he knocked. "Mr. Egremont, is he at home?" "The gentlemen of the deputation? Yes, my master gave particular orders that he was at home to you. Will you walk in, gen' 'f men?" "There you see," said the tall delegate. "This would be a lesson to Thorough Base." They sat down in an antechamber; the servant opened a mahogany folding-door which he shut after him and announced collected out is a book that will tluill more than any tiiodeni effort of the imagination; a re striking collection ot stories of darinj; and valour was never got Uiwceii two hook covers."— /',:.'/ Mull r.azelte. The Queen's Story Book Edited by G. LAURENXE GOMiME Illu.strated by \V. H. RoruNSOX. "Mr. G. Laurence (iomnie has edited as a supplement to 'The King's Story Book ' of last year another excellent huilijet of stories. The storii's are as giuxl as the arrangement is ingenious, and th<' airangenient is a p.iijeant of historic romance which it would tx' dithcult to equal c.vcept in .Mr. (iomme's own previous volume."— /»(i// .I/a// Cazettc. The Prince's Story Book Edited by G. LAURIIXCE GOMME Illustrated by H. S. Banks. "The l)ook is an ideal prize book for young people, as it is calculated to enco\irage \n them a love of their countr>''s'history."— /A/Z/i- Chronicle. " .Now follows ' The Prince's Story Book,' In which are stories every whit as good as those in the other two volumes. . . . ' The i'rincc's Story Bfjok ' is the story book of the year."— Weekly Sun. " .\ splendid collection. "—.ffrt'«'ra< of Reviews. " 'rhere is more genuine enjoyment to be got out of this collection ot Mr. Oomme s than can be found in a score of modem so-called historical romances.'— /?/<7f/fr and White. The Princess's Story Book Edited by G. LAURENCE GOMME Illustrated by Helen Stratton. ■JWUJ.WJI •■^T-^ f'*"^ TWO BOOKS FOR BOYS When the Land was Young By LAFAYETTE McLAWS Illustrated by Will Crawford Crown 8vo. Cloth Gilt, 6s. " One of the most interesting boys' books of the season." — Glasgow Herald. " A dashing story of Old Carolina in the later days of the seventeenth century, a narrative of love, war, and adventure, calculated to keep any boy or girl enthralled from first to last." — Lady. "This tale of bold adventure in the days of Louis XIV, told in the purest English would be hard to beat." — Queen. With the Flag at Sea By WALTER WOOD Illustrated by Sei'pin(;s Wright Crown 8vo. Cloth Gilt, 65. " The volume should be welcome to the younger generation." — A themeum. " Filled with stories of British bravery afloat and ashore. These records will thrill the hearts of boys with admiration and patriotic feeling." — Standard. " Told with a rousing animation, which will make youngsters thrill like eye-witnesses of the events described. The book will keep any intelligent boy quiet and happy for a long evening." — Contemporary Review. CONSTABLE'S LIBRARY OF Historical Novels and Romances EdiVd by G. LAURKNCE GOMME, F.S.A. is. 6d. per volume. Cloth. After a design by A. A. TURBAVNE. LORD LYTTON Harold, the Last of the Saxons CHARLES MACFARLANE The Camp of Refuge CHARLES KINGSLEY Westward Ho I CHARLES MACFARLANE Reading Abbey •' It is a noble edition simply given away at y. 6d"—The Sun. "A marvel of cheap and excellent book-production."— ZiVf/-IPPLIED IIVMGE t655 Eost Main Street (716) 482 - 0300 - Phone (716) 288-5989 - Fo« Inc The Ship's Adventure By W. CLARK RUSSELL Author of " "A'reck of the Grosvmor, " " John Iloldswurlh, Chief Mate," etc. Crown 8vo. Cloth. Price 65. " We meet with all the old skill and charm that have delighted us for so long a time past." — S/. James's. " We welcome with pleasure Mr. Clark Russell's return to good form. It is one of the breeziest novels he has written." — Daily JVeivs. " One of the best books that Mr. Clark Russell has written for many a long day." — Speaker. " The story is emphatically good reading, and there is no falling off in the inimitably fresh and vigorous de- scription of the hfgh seas by fair and foul weather." — Saturday Review. " Mr. Russell has done nothing better." — T/ie World. " Mr. Clark Russell still writes of the sea with a know- ledge that is exhibited by no other living writer ; he is still a capital hand at the spinning of a yarn. His novel will be read with pleasure by all who come across it, and will make heavier the debt of gratitude owed to him by the large section of the community which looks to the novelist for a considerable proportion of the happiness it gets." — Morning Post. " Mr. Clark Russell brings back to us throughout the swish of the waves against the York's sides, and the shriek of the storm through her tackle. He can hold his own with the best of them yet." —Pall Mall Gazette. 4