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 THE 
 
 LAST OF THE BARONS, 
 
 VOL. II.
 
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 THE 
 
 LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 BY 
 
 THE AUTHOR OF "KIENZI." 
 
 IN THREE VOLUMES. 
 
 VOL. II. 
 
 LONDON 
 
 SAUNDERS AND OTLEY, CONDUIT STREET. 
 1843. 
 
 154113

 
 Stack 
 Annex 
 
 PR 
 
 Al 
 
 W3 
 
 BOOK THE FOURTH. 
 
 INTRIGUES OF THE COURT OF EDWARD IV. 
 
 VOL. II,
 
 BOOK THE FOURTH. 
 
 I. 
 
 MARGARET OF ANJOU. 
 
 THE day after the events recorded in the last 
 section of this narrative, and about the hour of 
 noon, Robert Hilyard (still in the reverend dis- 
 guise in which he had accosted Hastings) bent his 
 way through the labyrinth of alleys, that wound in 
 dingy confusion from the Chepe towards the 
 River. 
 
 The purlieus of the Thames, in that day of 
 ineffective police, sheltered many who either lived 
 upon plunder, or sought abodes that proffered, at 
 alarm, the facility of flight. Here, sauntering in 
 twos or threes, or lazily reclined by the thresholds 
 of plaster huts, might be seen that refuse popula- 
 tion which is the unholy offspring of Civil War 
 disbanded soldiers of either Rose, too inured to vio- 
 
 B2
 
 4 THE LAST OF THE BARONS, 
 
 lencc and strife for peaceful employment, and ready 
 for any enterprise, by which keen steel wins bright 
 gold. At length, our friend stopped before the gate 
 of a small house, on the very marge of the river, 
 which belonged to one of the many religious Orders 
 then existing ; but from its site and aspect, denoted 
 the poverty seldom their characteristic. Here he 
 knocked ; the door was opened by a lay-brother, 
 a sign and a smile interchanged, and the visitor 
 was ushered into a room belonging to the superior, 
 but given up for the last few days to a foreign priest, 
 to whom the whole community appeared to consider 
 the reverence of a saint was due. And yet this 
 priest, who, seated alone, by a casement which 
 commanded a partial view of the distant Tower of 
 London, received the conspirator, was clad in the 
 humblest serge. His face was smooth and deli- 
 cate ; and the animation of the aspect, the vehe- 
 ment impatience of the gesture, evinced little of 
 the holy calm that should belong to those who 
 have relinquished the affairs of earth for meditation 
 on the things of heaven. To this personage, the 
 sturdy Hilyard bowed his manly knees ; and cast- 
 ing himself at the priest's feet, his eyes, his coun- 
 tenance, changed from their customary hardihood 
 and recklessness, into an expression at once of 
 reverence and of pity. 
 
 " Well, man well, friend good friend, tried 
 and leal friend speak ! speak !" exclaimed the
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. O 
 
 priest, in an accent that plainly revealed a foreign 
 birth. 
 
 " Oh ! gracious lady ! all hope is over : I come 
 but to bid you fly. Adam Warner was brought 
 before the usurper; he escaped, indeed, the tor- 
 ture, and was faithful to the trust. But the papers 
 the secret of the rising, are in the hands of 
 Hastings." 
 
 " How long, O Lord," said Margaret of Anjou, 
 for she it was, under that reverend disguise ; "how 
 long wilt thou delay the hour of triumph and 
 revenge ?" 
 
 The Princess, as she spoke, had suffered her 
 hood to fall back, and her pale, commanding coun- 
 tenance, so well fitted to express fiery and terrible 
 emotion, wore that aspect in which many a sen- 
 tenced man had read his doom; an aspect the 
 more fearful, inasmuch as the passion that per- 
 vaded it did not distort the features, but left 
 them locked, rigid, and marble-like in beauty, as 
 the head of the Medusa. 
 
 " The day will dawn at last," said Hilyard, " but 
 the judgments of Heaven are slow. We are 
 favoured, at the least, that our secret is confined 
 to a man more merciful than his tribe." He then 
 related to Margaret his interview with Hast- 
 ings, at the house of the Lady Longueville, and 
 continued : " This morning, not an hour since, I 
 sought him, (for last evening he did not leave 

 
 6 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 Edward a council met at the Tower,) and learned 
 that he had detected the documents in the recesses 
 of Warner's engine. Knowing, from your High- 
 ness and your spies^ that he had been open to the 
 gifts of Charolois, I spoke to him plainly of the 
 guerdon that should await his silence. Friar," he 
 answered, " if in this court and this world I have 
 found that it were a fool's virtue to be more pure 
 than others, and if I know that I should but pro- 
 voke the wrath of those who profit by Burgundian 
 gold, were 1 alone to disdain its glitter ; I have 
 still enow of my younger conscience left me not to 
 make barter of human flesh. Did I give these 
 papers to King Edward, the heads of fifty gallant 
 men, whose error is but loyalty to their ancient 
 sovereign, would glut the doomsman. But," he con- 
 tinued, " I am yet true to my king and his cause ; 
 I shall know how to advise Edward to the frustrat- 
 ing all your schemes. The districts where you 
 hoped a rising, will be guarded, the men ye count 
 upon will be watched; the Duke of Gloucester, 
 whose vigilance never sleeps, has learned that 
 the Lady Margaret is in England, disguised as a 
 priest. To-morrow, all the Religious Houses will 
 be searched ; if thou knowest where she lies con- 
 cealed, bid her lose not an hour to fly." 
 
 " I will NOT fly !" exclaimed Margaret ; " let 
 Edward, if he dare, proclaim to my people that 
 their Queen is in her city of London. Let him 

 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 7 
 
 send his hirelings to seize her. Not in this dress 
 shall she be found. In robes of state, the sceptre 
 in her hand, shall they drag the consort of their 
 King to the prison-house of her palace." 
 
 " On my knees, great Queen, I implore you to be 
 calm ; with the loss of your liberty ends indeed all 
 hope of victory, all chance even of struggle. Think 
 not Edward's fears would leave to Margaret the 
 life that his disdain has spared to your royal spouse. 
 Between your prison and your grave, but one 
 secret and bloody step ! Be ruled, no time to lose ! 
 My trusty Hugh, even now, waits with his boat 
 below. Relays of horses are ready, night and day, 
 to aid you to the coast ; while seeking your resto- 
 ration, I have never neglected the facilities for 
 flight. Pause not, O gracious lady ; let not your 
 son say * My mother's passion has lost me the 
 hope of my grandsire's crown.' " 
 
 " My boy, my princely boy, my Edward !" ex- 
 claimed Margaret, bursting into tears, all the war- 
 rior-queen merged in the remembrance of the fond 
 mother. "Ah! faithful friend! he is so gallant 
 and so beautiful ! Oh, he shall reward thee well 
 hereafter !" 
 
 " May he live to crush these barons, and raise 
 this people !" said the Demagogue of Redesdale. 
 " But now, save thyself." 
 
 "But what! is it not possible yet to strike the 
 blow ! Rather let us spur to the North rather 
 
 VOL, II.
 
 8 THE LAST OF TUB BARONS. 
 
 let us hasten the hour of action, and raise the 
 lied Rose through the length and breadth of 
 England!" 
 
 " Ah, lady, if without warrant from your lord 
 if without foreign subsidies if without having yet 
 ripened the time if without gold, without arms, 
 and without one great baron on our side, we fore- 
 stall a rising, all that we have gained is lost ; and 
 instead of war, you can scarcely provoke a riot. 
 But for this accursed alliance of Edward's daughter 
 with the brother of the icy-hearted Louis, our tri- 
 umph had been secure. The French king's gold 
 would have manned a camp, bribed the discontented 
 lords, and his support have sustained the hopes of 
 the more leal Lancastrians. .But it is in vain to 
 deny, that if Lord Warwick win Louis " 
 
 " He will not ! he shall not ! Louis, mine own 
 kinsman !" exclaimed Margaret, in a voice in 
 which the anguish pierced through the louder 
 tone of resentment and disdain. 
 
 " Let us hope that he will not," replied Hilyard, 
 soothingly ; " some chance may yet break off these 
 nuptials, and once more give us France as our firm 
 ally. But now we must be patient. Already 
 Edward is fast wearing away the gloss of his 
 crown already the great lords desert his court 
 already, in the rural provinces, peasant and franklin 
 complain of the exactions of his minions already 
 the mighty House of Nevile frowns sullen on the
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 9 
 
 throne it built. Another year, and who knows 
 but the Earl of Warwick the beloved and the fear- 
 less whose statesman-art alone hath severed from 
 you the arms and aid of France at whose lifted 
 finger all England would bristle with armed men 
 may ride by the side of Margaret through the 
 gates of London." 
 
 " Evil-omened consoler, never !" exclaimed the 
 princess, starting to her feet, with eyes that literally 
 shot fire. " Thinkest thou that the spirit of a 
 queen lies in me so low and crushed, that I, the 
 descendant of Charlemagne, could forgive the 
 wrongs endured from Warwick and his father. 
 But thou, though wise and royal, art of the Com- 
 mons; thou knowest not how they feel through 
 whose veins rolls the blood of kings !" 
 
 A dark and cold shade fell over the bold face of 
 Robin of Redesdale at these words. 
 
 " Ah, lady," he said, with bitterness, " if no mis- 
 fortune can curb thy pride, in vain would we re- 
 build thy throne. It is these Commons, Margaret 
 of Anjou these English Commons this Saxon 
 People, that can alone secure to thee the holding 
 of the realm, which the right arm wins. And, 
 beshrew me, much as I love thy cause much as 
 thou hast, with thy sorrows and thy princely beauty, 
 glamoured and spelled my heart and my hand ay, 
 so that I, the son of a Lollard, forget the wrongs the 
 Lollards sustained from the House of Lancaster
 
 10 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 so that I, who have seen the glorious fruitage of a 
 Republic, yet labour for thee, to overshadow the land 
 with the throne of ONE yet yet, lady yet, if 
 I thought thou wert to be the same Margaret as of 
 old, looking back to thy dead kings, and contemp- 
 tuous of thy living people, I would not bid one 
 mother's son lift lance or bill on thy behalf." 
 
 So resolutely did Robin of Redesdale utter these 
 words, that the Queen's haughty eye fell abashed 
 as he spoke ; and her craft, or her intellect, which 
 was keen and prompt where her passions did not 
 deafen and blind her judgment, instantly returned 
 to her. Few women equalled this once idol of 
 knight and minstrel, in the subduing fascination 
 that she could exert in her happier moments. 
 Her affability was as gracious as her wrath was 
 savage ; and with a dignified and winning frank- 
 ness, she extended her hand to her ally, as she an- 
 swered, in a sweet, humble, womanly, and almost 
 penitent voice 
 
 " O, bravest and lealest of friends, forgive thy 
 wretched queen. Her troubles distract her brain, 
 chide her not if they sour her speech. Saints 
 above ! will ye not pardon Margaret, if at times her 
 nature be turned from the mother's milk into 
 streams of gall and bloody purpose when ye see, 
 from your homes serene, in what a world of strife 
 and falsehood, her very womanhood hath grown, 
 unsexed !" she paused a moment, and her uplifted
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 11 
 
 eyes shed tears fast and large. Then, with a sigh, 
 she turned to Hilyard, and resumed more calmly 
 " Yes, thou art right adversity hath taught me 
 much. And though adversity will too often but 
 feed, and not starve our pride ; yet thou thou hast 
 made me know, that there is more of true nobility 
 in the blunt Children of the People, than in many 
 a breast over which flows the kingly robe. Forgive 
 me, and the daughter of Charlemagne shall yet be 
 a mother to the Commons, who claim thee as their 
 brother !" 
 
 Thoroughly melted, Robin of Redesdale bowed 
 over the hand held to his lips, and his rough voice 
 trembled as he answered though that answer 
 took but the shape of prayer. 
 
 " And now," said the Princess, smiling, " to 
 make peace lasting between us ; I conquer myself 
 I yield to thy counsels. Once more the fugitive, 
 I abandon the city that contains Henry's unheeded 
 prison. See, I am ready. Who will know Mar- 
 garet in this attire ? Lead on !" 
 
 Rejoiced to seize advantage of this altered and 
 submissive mood, Robin instantly took the way 
 through a narrow passage, to a small door commu- 
 nicating with the river. There, Hugh was waiting 
 in a small boat, moored to the damp and disco- 
 loured stairs. 
 
 Robin, by a gesture, checked the man's impulse 
 to throw himself at the feet of the pretended priest,
 
 12 THE LAST OF THE BAKONS. 
 
 and bade him put forth his best speed. The 
 Princess seated herself by the helm, and the little 
 boat cut rapidly through the noble stream. Galleys, 
 gay and gilded, with armorial streamers, and filled 
 with nobles and gallants, passed them, noisy with 
 mirth or music, on their way. These the fallen 
 sovereign heeded not ; but, with all her faults, the 
 woman's heart beating in her bosom she who, in 
 prosperity, had so often wrought ruin, and shame, 
 and woe to her gentle lord; she who had been 
 reckless of her trust as queen, and incurred grave 
 but, let us charitably hope, unjust suspicion, of her 
 faith as wife, still fixed her eyes on the gloomy 
 tower that contained her captive husband, and felt 
 that she could have forgotten awhile even the loss 
 of power if but permitted to fall on that plighted 
 heart, and weep over the Past with the woe-worn 
 bridegroom of her youth.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BAUONS. 13 
 
 II. 
 
 IK WHICH ARE LAID OPEN TO THE READER THE CHARACTER 
 OF EDWARD THE FOURTH AND THAT OF HIS COURT, WITH 
 THE MACHINATIONS OF THE WOODVIIXES AGAINST THE 
 EARL OF WARWICK. 
 
 SCARCE need it be said to those who have looked 
 with some philosophy upon human life, that the 
 young existence of Master Marmaduke Nevile, 
 once fairly merged in the Great Common Sea, will 
 rarely reappear before us individualized and distinct. 
 The type of the provincial cadet of the day, hast- 
 ening Courtwards to seek his fortune, he becomes 
 lost amidst the gigantic characters and fervid pas- 
 sions that alone stand forth in History. And, as in 
 reading biography, we first take interest in the in- 
 dividual who narrates, but if his career shall pass 
 into that broader and more stirring life, in which 
 he mingles with those who have left a more dazzling 
 memory than his own, we find the interest change 
 from the narrator to those by whom he is sur- 
 rounded and eclipsed, so, in this record of a time, 
 we scarce follow our young adventurer into the 
 Court of the brilliant Edward, ere the scene itself
 
 14 THE LAST OP THE BARONS. 
 
 allures and separates us from our guide ; his mission 
 is, as it were, well nigh done. We leave, then, for 
 awhile, this bold, frank nature fresh from the 
 health of the rural life gradually to improve, 
 or deprave itself, in the companionship it finds. 
 The example of the Lords Hastings, Scales, and 
 Worcester, and the accomplishments of the two 
 younger Princes of York, especially the Duke 
 of Gloucester, had diffused among the younger 
 and gayer part of the Court that growing taste 
 for letters which had somewhat slept during the 
 dynasty of the House of Lancaster; and Marma- 
 duke's mind became aware that learning was no 
 longer the peculiar distinction of the Church, and 
 that Warwick was behind his age, when he boasted 
 " that the sword was more familiar to him than the 
 pen." He had the sagacity to perceive that the 
 alliance with the great Earl did not conduce to 
 his popularity at court; and, even in the King's 
 presence, the courtiers permitted themselves many 
 taunts and jests at the fiery Warwick, which they 
 would have bitten out their tongues ere they would 
 have vented before the Earl himself. But, though 
 the Nevile sufficiently controlled his native candour 
 not to incur unprofitable quarrel, by ill-mannered 
 and unseasonable defence of the Hero-Baron, when 
 sneered at or assailed, he had enough of the soldier 
 and the man in him, not to be tainted by the envy 
 of the time and place not to lose his gratitude to
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 15 
 
 his patron, nor his respect for the bulwark of the 
 country. Rather, it may be said, that Warwick 
 gained in his estimation whenever compared with 
 the gay and silken personages who avenged them- 
 selves by words for his superiority in deeds. Not only 
 as a soldier, but as a statesman the great and pe- 
 culiar merits of the Earl were visible in all those mea- 
 sures which emanated solely from himself. Though 
 so indifferently educated, his busy, practical career, 
 his affable mixing with all classes, and his hearty, 
 national sympathies, made him so well acquainted 
 with the interests of his country and the habits of 
 his countrymen, that he was far more fitted to rule 
 than the scientific Worcester or the learned Scales. 
 The young Duke of Gloucester presented a marked 
 contrast to the general levity of the Court, in 
 speaking of this powerful nobleman. He never 
 named him but with respect, and was pointedly 
 courteous to even the humblest member of the 
 Earl's family. In this he appeared to advantage by 
 the side of Clarence, whose weakness of disposition 
 made him take the tone of the society in which he 
 was thrown, and who, while really loving Warwick, 
 often smiled at the jests against him not, indeed, 
 if uttered by the Queen or her family, of whom he 
 ill concealed his jealousy and hatred. 
 
 The whole Court was animated and pregnant 
 with a spirit of intrigue, which the artful cunning 
 of the Queen, the astute policy of Jacquetta, and
 
 10 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 the animosity of the different factions had fo- 
 mented, to a degree quite unknown under former 
 reigns. It was a place in which the wit of young 
 men grew old rapidly : Amidst stratagem, and plot, 
 and ambitious design, and stealthy overreaching, 
 the boyhood of Richard the Third passed to its 
 relentless manhood : such is the inevitable fruit of 
 that sera in civilization when a martial aristocracy 
 first begins to merge into a voluptuous court. 
 
 Through this moving and shifting web of am- 
 bition and intrigue the royal Edward moved with a 
 careless grace : simple himself, because his ob- 
 ject was 'won, and pleasure had supplanted ambi- 
 tion. His indolent, joyous temper, served to deaden 
 his powerful intellect ; or, rather, his intellect 
 was now lost in the sensual stream through which 
 it flowed. Ever in pursuit of some new face, his 
 schemes and counter-schemes were limited to cheat 
 a husband or deceive a wife ; and dexterous and 
 successful, no doubt, they were. But a vice always 
 more destructive than the love of women began 
 also to reign over him, viz., the intemperance of 
 the table. The fastidious and graceful epicurism 
 of the early Normans, inclined to dainties but ab- 
 horring excess, and regarding with astonished dis- 
 dain the heavy meals and deep draughts of the 
 Saxon, had long ceased to characterize the off- 
 spring of that noblest of all noble races. Warwick, 
 whose stately manliness was disgusted with what-
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 17 
 
 ever savoured of effeminacy or debauch, used to 
 declare that he would rather fight fifty battles for 
 Edward IV. than once sup with him ! Feasts were 
 prolonged for hours, and the banquets of this King 
 of the Middle Ages almost resembled those of the 
 later Roman emperors. The Lord Montagu did 
 not share the abstemiousness of his brother of War- 
 wick. He was, next to Hastings, the King's chosen 
 and most favourite companion. He ate almost as 
 much as the King, and he drank very little less. 
 Of few courtiers could the same be said. Over 
 the lavish profligacy and excess of the Court, how- 
 ever, a veil, dazzling to the young and high- 
 spirited, was thrown. Edward was thoroughly the 
 cavalier, deeply embued with the romance of 
 chivalry, and, while making the absolute woman his 
 plaything, always treated the ideal woman as a 
 goddess. A refined gallantry a deferential cour- 
 tesy to dame and demoiselle united the language 
 of an Amadis with the licentiousness of a Gaolor ; 
 and a far more alluring contrast than the Court of 
 Charles II. presented to the grim Commonwealth, 
 seduced the vulgar in that of this most brave 
 and most beautiful prince, when compared with 
 the mournful and lugubrious circles in which 
 Henry VI. had reigned and prayed. Edward him- 
 self, too, it was so impossible to judge with severe 
 justice, that his extraordinary popularity in London, 
 where he was daily seen, was never diminished by
 
 18 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 his faults ; he was so bold in the field, yet so 
 mild in the chamber ; when his passions slept, he 
 was so thoroughly good-natured and social so 
 kind to all about his person so hearty and glad- 
 some in his talk and in his vices so magnificent 
 and so generous withal ; and, despite his indolence, 
 his capacities for business were marvellous : and 
 these last commanded the reverence of the good 
 Londoners : he often administered justice himself, 
 like the Caliphs of the East, and with great acute- 
 ness and address. Like all extravagant men, he 
 had a wholesome touch of avarice. That con- 
 tempt for commerce which characterizes a modern 
 aristocracy was little felt by the nobles of that day, 
 with the exception of such blunt patricians as 
 Lord Warwick or Raoul de Fulke. The great 
 house of De la Pole, (Duke of Suffolk,) the heir of 
 which married Edward's sister, Elizabeth, had been 
 founded by a merchant of Hull. Earls and arch- 
 bishops scrupled not to derive revenues from what 
 we should now esteem the literal resources of 
 trade.* No house had ever shewn itself on this 
 
 * The Abbot of St. A,lbans (temp. Henry III.) was a vender 
 of Yarmouth bloaters. The Cistercian Monks were wool- 
 merchants ; and Macpherson tells us of a couple of Iceland 
 bishops who got a licence from Henry VI. for smuggling. 
 (Matthew Paris. Macpherson's Annals of Commerce, 10.) As 
 the Whig historians generally have thought fit to consider the 
 Lancastrian cause the more " liberal 1 " of the two, because 
 Henry IV. was the popular choice, and, in fact, an elected, not
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 19 
 
 point more liberal in its policy, more free from 
 feudal prejudices, than that of the Planta^pnets. 
 Even Edward II. was tenacious of the commerce 
 with Genoa, and an intercourse with the merchant 
 princes of that republic probably served to associate 
 the pursuits of commerce with the notion of rank 
 
 an hereditary king, so it caunot be too" emphatically repeated, 
 that the accession of Edward IV. was the success of two new 
 and two highly popular principles the one, that of church 
 reform, the other, that of commercial calculation. All that im- 
 mense section, almost a majority of the people, who had been 
 persecuted by the Lancastrian kings as Lollards, revenged on 
 Henry the aggrieved rights of religious toleration. On the other 
 hand, though Henry IV., who was immeasurably superior to 
 his warlike son in intellect and statesmanship, had favoured the 
 growing commercial spirit, it had received nothing but injury 
 under Henry V., and little better than contempt under 
 Henry VI. The accession of the Yorkists was, then, on two 
 grounds, a great popular movement ; and it was followed by 
 a third advantage to the popular cause viz., in the determined 
 desire both of Edward and Kichard III. to destroy the dangerous 
 influence of the old feudal aristocracy. To this end Edward 
 laboured in the creation of a court noblesse ; and Richard, with 
 the more dogged resolution that belonged to him, went at once 
 to the root of the feudal power, in forbidding the nobles to give 
 badges and liveries ; a in other words, to appropriate armies under 
 the name of retainers. Henry VII., in short, did not originate 
 the policy for which he has monopolized the credit; he did but 
 steadily follow out the theory of raising the middle class and 
 humbling the baronial, which the House of York first put into 
 practice. 
 
 a This also was forbidden, it is true, by the edict of Edward 
 IV., as well as by his predecessors from the reign of Richard 
 II., but no king seems to have had the courage to enforce the 
 prohibition before Richard the Third.
 
 20 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 and power. Edward III. is still culled the Father of 
 Engliih Commerce ; but Edward IV. carried the 
 theories of- his ancestors into far more extensive 
 practice, for his own personal profit. This king, so 
 indolent in the palace, was literally the most 
 active merchant in the mart. He traded largely 
 in ships of his own, freighted with his own goods ; 
 and though, according to sound modern eecoiiomics, 
 this was anything but an aid to commerce, seeing 
 that no private merchant could compete with a 
 royal trader, who went out and came in duty-free, 
 yet certainly the mere companionship and associ- 
 ation in risk and gain, and the common conversa- 
 tion that it made between the affable monarch and 
 the homeliest trader, served to increase his popu- 
 larity, and to couple it with respect for practical 
 sense. Edward IV. was in all this pre-eminently 
 THE MAN OF ms AGE not an inch behind it or 
 before ! And, in addition to this happy position, 
 he was one of those darlings of Nature, so affluent 
 and blest in gifts of person, mind, and outward 
 show, that it is only at the distance of posterity 
 we ask why men of his own age admired the 
 false, the licentious, and the cruel, where those 
 contemporaries, over-dazzled, saw but the heroic 
 and the joyous, the young, the beautiful, the 
 affable to friend, and the terrible to foe ! 
 
 It was necessary to say thus much on the com- 
 mercial tendencies of Edward, because, at this
 
 THE LAST OF THE BAROXS. 21 
 
 epoch, they operated greatly, besides other motives 
 shortly to be made clear, in favour of the plot laid 
 by the enemies of the Earl of Warwick, to disho- 
 nour that powerful minister, and drive him from 
 the councils of the King. 
 
 One morning, Hastings received a summons to 
 attend Edward, and on entering the royal cham- 
 ber, he found already assembled, Lord Rivers, the 
 Queen's father, Anthony Woodville, and the Earl 
 of Worcester. 
 
 The King seemed thoughtful ; he beckoned 
 Hastings to approach, and placed in his hand a 
 letter, dated from Rouen. " Read and judge, 
 Hastings," said Edward. 
 
 The letter was from a gentleman in Warwick's 
 train. It gave a glowing account of the honours 
 accorded to the Earl by Louis XL, greater than 
 those ever before manifested to a subject, and pro- 
 ceeded thus : " But it is just I should apprize you 
 that there be strange rumours as to the marvel- 
 lous love that King Louis shews my lord the 
 Earl. He lodgeth in the next house to him, and 
 hath even had an opening made in the partition 
 wall between his own chamber and the Earl's. 
 Men do say that the King visits him nightly, and 
 there be those who think that so much stealthy 
 intercourse between an English ambassador and the 
 kinsman of Margaret of Anjou bodeth small profit 
 to our Grace the King." 
 
 VOL. II.
 
 22 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 " I observe," said Hastings, glancing to the su- 
 perscription, " that this letter is addressed to my 
 Lord Rivers. Can he avouch the fidelity of his 
 correspondent ?" 
 
 " Surely yes," answered Rivers ; " it is a gentle- 
 man of my own blood." 
 
 " Were he not so accredited," returned Hastings, 
 t( I should question the truth of a man who can 
 thus consent to play the spy upon his lord and 
 superior." 
 
 The public weal justifies all things," said the 
 Earl of Worcester, (who, though by marriage nearly 
 connected to Warwick, eyed his power with the 
 jealous scorn which the man of book-lore often 
 feels for one whose talent lies in action,) " so 
 held our masters in all state-craft, the Greek and 
 Roman." 
 
 " Certes," said Sir Anthony Woodville, " it 
 grieveth the pride of an English knight, that we 
 should be beholden for courtesies to the born foe 
 of England, which I take the Frenchman naturally 
 to be." 
 
 " Ah," said Edward, smiling sternly, " I would 
 rather be, myself, with banner and trump, before 
 the walls of Paris, than sending my cousin, the Earl, 
 to beg the French king's brother to accept my 
 sister as a bride. And what is to become of my 
 good merchant-ships, if Burgundy take umbrage, 
 and close its ports ?"
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 23 
 
 " Beau sire," said Hastings, " them knowest how 
 little cause I have to love the Earl of Warwick. We 
 all here, save your gracious self, bear the memory 
 of some affront rendered to us by his pride and 
 heat of mood ; but in this council I must cease to 
 be William de Hastings, and be all and wholly the 
 King's servant. I say first, then, with reverence to 
 these noble peers, that Warwick's faith to the House 
 of York is too well proven to become suspected 
 because of the courtesies of King Louis an artful 
 craft, as it clearly seems to me of the wily French- 
 man, to weaken your throne, by provoking your 
 distrust of its great supporter. Fall we not into 
 such a snare ! Moreover, we may be sure that 
 Warwick cannot be false, if he achieve the 
 object of his embassy viz., detach Louis from 
 the side of Margaret and Lancaster, by close 
 alliance with Edward and York. Secondly, sire, 
 with regard to that alliance which it seems you 
 would repent I hold now, as I have held ever, 
 that it is a master-stroke in policy, and the 
 Earl in this proves his sharp brain worthy his 
 strong arm; for as his Highness the Duke of 
 Gloucester hath now clearly discovered that Mar- 
 garet of Anjou has been of late in London, and 
 that treasonable designs \vere meditated, though 
 now frustrated, so we may ask why the friends of 
 Lancaster really stood aloof? why all conspiracy 
 was, and is in vain ? Because, sire, of this very alii-
 
 24 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 ance with France ; because the gold and subsidies 
 of Louis are not forthcoming ; because the Lancas- 
 trians see that if once Lord Warwick win France 
 from the Red Rose, nothing short of such a miracle 
 as their gaining Warwick instead can give a hope 
 to their treason. Your Highness fears the anger of 
 Burgundy, and the suspension of your trade with 
 the Flemings; but forgive me this is not reason- 
 able. Burgundy dare not offend England, matched, 
 as its arms are, with France ; the Flemings gain more 
 by you than you gain by the Flemings, and those 
 interested burghers will not suffer any prince'-s 
 quarrel to damage their commerce. Charolois 
 may bluster and threat, but the storm will pass; 
 and Burgundy will be contented, if England re- 
 main neutral in the feud with France. All 
 these reasons, sire, urge me to support my private 
 foe, the Lord Warwick, and to pray you to give 
 no ear to the discrediting his honour and his em- 
 bassy." 
 
 The profound sagacity of these remarks, the 
 repute of the speaker, and the well-known grudge 
 between him and Warwick, for reasons hereafter to 
 be explained, produced a strong effect upon the 
 intellect of Edward, always vigorous, save when 
 clouded with passion. But Rivers, whose malice 
 to the Earl was indomitable, coldly recommenced. 
 
 "With submission to the Lord Hastings, sire, 
 whom we know that love sometimes blinds, and
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 25 
 
 whose allegiance to the Earl's fair sister, the Lady of 
 Bonville, perchance somewhat moves him to forget 
 the day when Lord Warwick " 
 
 " Cease, my lord," said Hastings, white with sup- 
 pressed anger ; " these references beseem not the 
 councils of grave men." 
 
 " Tut, Hastings," said Edward, laughing mer- 
 rily " women mix themselves up in all things : 
 board or council, bed or battle wherever there 
 is mischief astir, there, be sure, peeps a woman's 
 sly face from her wimple. Go on, Rivers." 
 
 " Your pardon, my Lord Hastings," said Rivers 
 " I knew not my thrust went so home ; there is 
 another letter I have not yet laid before the King." 
 He drew forth a scroll from his bosom, and read as 
 follows : 
 
 " Yesterday the Earl feasted the King, and as, 
 in dischai'ge of mine office, I carved for my lord, I 
 heard King Louis say 'Pasque Dieu, my Lord 
 Warwick ; our couriers bring us word that Count 
 Charolois declares he shall yet wed the Lady Mar- 
 garet, and that he laughs at your ambassage. What 
 if our brother, King Edward, fall back from the 
 treaty ?' ' He dare not !' said the Earl." 
 
 " Dare not !'' exclaimed Edward, starting to his 
 feet, and striking the table with his clenched hand, 
 " Dare not ! Hastings, hear you that ?" 
 
 Hastings bowed his head, in assent. " Is that 
 all, Lord Rivers ?" 
 
 VOL, II, C
 
 26 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 " All ! and methinks enough." 
 
 " Enough, by my halidome !" said Edward, laugh- 
 ing bitterly ; " he shall see what a king dares, when 
 a subject threatens. Admit the Worshipful the De- 
 puties from our City of London Lord-Chamber- 
 lain, it is thine office they await in the ante-room." 
 
 Hastings gravely obeyed, and in crimson gowns, 
 with purple hoods, and gold chains, marshalled 
 into the King's presence a goodly deputation from 
 the various corporate companies of London. 
 
 These personages advanced within a few paces 
 of the dais, and there halted and knelt, while their 
 spokesman read, on his knees, a long petition, pray- 
 ing the King to take into his gracious consideration 
 the state of the trade with the Flemings; and though 
 not absolutely venturing to name or to deprecate 
 the meditated alliance with France, beseeching his 
 Grace to satisfy them as to certain rumours, already 
 very prejudicial to their commerce, of the possi- 
 bility of a breach with the Duke of Burgundy. The 
 Merchant-King listened with great attention and 
 affability to this petition; and replied, shortly, 
 that he thanked the deputation for their zeal for 
 the public weal that a king would have enough to 
 do, if he contravened every gossip's tale ; but that 
 it was his firm purpose to protect, in all ways, the 
 London traders, and to maintain the most ami- 
 cable understanding with the Duke of Burgundy. 
 
 The supplicators then withdrew from the royal 
 presence.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 27 
 
 " Note you how gracious the King was to me?" 
 whispered Master Heyford to one of his brethren ; 
 " he looked at me while he answered." 
 
 " Coxcomb !" muttered the confidant, " as if I 
 did not catch his eye, when he said, ' Ye are the 
 pillars of the public weal.' But because Master 
 Heyford has a handsome wife, he thinks he tosseth 
 all London on his own horns !" 
 
 As the citizens were quitting the palace, Lord 
 Rivers joined them. " You will thank me for 
 suggesting this deputation, worthy sirs," said he, 
 smiling significantly ; " you have timed it well !" 
 and passing by them, without further comment, he 
 took the way to the Queen's chamber. 
 
 Elizabeth was playing with her infant daughter, 
 tossing the child in the air, and laughing at its 
 riotous laughter. The stern old Duchess of Bed- 
 ford, leaning over the back of the state-chair, 
 looked on with all a grandmother's pride, and 
 half-chanted a nursery rhyme. It was a sight 
 fair to see ! Elizabeth never seemed more lovely : 
 her artificial, dissimulating smile, changed into 
 hearty, maternal glee ; her smooth cheek flushed 
 with exercise, a stray ringlet escaping from the stiff 
 coif! And, alas, the moment the two ladies caught 
 sight of Rivers, all the charm was dissolved the 
 child was hastily put on the floor the Queen, 
 half ashamed of being natural, even before her 
 father, smoothed back the rebel lock, and the 
 c2
 
 28 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 Duchess, breaking off in the midst of her grandam 
 song, exclaimed 
 
 " Well, well ! how thrives our policy ?" 
 
 " The King," answered Rivers, " is in the very 
 mood we could desire. At the words, ' He does 
 not dare !' the Plantagenet sprung up in his breast ; 
 and now, lest he ask to see the rest of the letter, 
 thus I destroy it ;" and flinging the scroll in the 
 blazing hearth, he watched it consume. 
 
 " Why this', sir ?" said the Queen. 
 
 " Because, my Elizabeth, the bold words glided 
 off into a decent gloss ' He does not dare,'' said 
 Warwick, ' because what a noble heart dares least, is 
 to tely the plighted word, and what the kind heart 
 shuns most is to wrong the confiding friend.' " 
 
 " It was fortunate," said the Duchess, " that Ed- 
 ward took heat at the first words, nor stopped, it 
 seems, for the rest !" 
 
 " I was prepared, Jacquetta ; had he asked to 
 see the rest, I should have dropped the scroll into the 
 brazier, as containing what I would not dare to read. 
 Courage ! Edward has seen the merchants ; he has 
 flouted Hastings who would gainsay us. For the 
 rest, Elizabeth, be it yours to speak of affronts paid 
 by the Earl to your Highness; be it yours, Jacquetta, 
 to rouse Edward's pride, by dwelling on Warwick's 
 overweening power. Be it mine, to enlist his inte- 
 rests on behalf of his merchandise ; be it Margaret's, 
 to move his heart by soft tears for the bold Charolois ;
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 29 
 
 and 'ere a month be told, Warwick shall find his 
 embassy a thriftless laughing-stock, and no shade 
 pass between the House of Woodville and the sun 
 of England." 
 
 " I am scarce queen, while Warwick is minister," 
 said Elizabeth, vindictively. " How he taunted me 
 in the garden, when we met last !" 
 
 " But hark you, daughter and lady liege, hark 
 you ! Edward is not prepared for the decisive 
 stroke. I have arranged with Anthony, whose chi- 
 valrous follies fit him not for full comprehension 
 of our objects, how upon fair excuse the heir of 
 Burgundy's brother the Count de la Roche shall 
 visit London, and the Count once here, all is ours ! 
 Hush ! take up the little one Edward comes !"
 
 30 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 III. 
 
 WHEREIN MASTER NICHOLAS ALWYN VISITS THE COURT, AND 
 THERE LEARNS MATTER OF WHICH THE ACUTE READER 
 WILL JUDGE FOR HIMSELF. 
 
 IT was a morning towards the end of May, (some 
 little time after Edward's gracious reception of 
 the London deputies,) when Nicholas Alwyn, ac- 
 companied by two servitors armed to the teeth 
 for they carried with them goods of much value, 
 and even in the broad daylight, and amidst the 
 most frequented parts of the city, men still con- 
 fided little in the security of the law arrived at 
 the Tower, and was conducted to the presence of 
 the Queen. 
 
 Elizabeth and her mother were engaged in ani- 
 mated but whispered conversation, when the gold- 
 smith entered ; and there was an unusual gaiety in 
 the Queen's countenance as she turned to Alwyn 
 and bade him shew her his newest gauds.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 31 
 
 While, with a curiosity and eagerness that 
 seemed almost childlike, Elizabeth turned over 
 rings, chains, and brooches, scarcely listening to 
 Alwyn's comments on the lustre of the gems or 
 the quaintness of the fashion, the Duchess disap- 
 peared for a moment, and returned with the Prin- 
 cess Margaret. 
 
 This young princess had much of the majestic 
 beauty of her royal brother, but, instead of the 
 frank, careless expression, so fascinating in Edward, 
 there was, in her full and curved lip, and bright, 
 large eye, something at once of haughtiness and 
 passion, which spoke a decision and vivacity of 
 character beyond her years. 
 
 " Choose for thyself, sweetheart and daughter 
 mine," said the Duchess, affectionately placing 
 her hand on Margaret's luxuriant hair, " and let 
 the noble visitor we await confess that our rose of 
 England outblooms the world." 
 
 The Princess coloured with complacent vanity 
 at these words, and, drawing near the Queen, 
 looked silently at a collar of pearls, which Eliza- 
 beth held. 
 
 " If I may adventure so to say," observed Alwyn, 
 " pearls will mightily beseem her highness's youth- 
 ful bloom; and lo! here be some adornments for 
 the bodice or partelet, to sort with the collar ; not," 
 added the goldsmith, bowing low, and looking 
 down, " not, perchance, displeasing to her highness,
 
 32 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 in that they are wrought in the guise of the fleur- 
 de-lis " 
 
 An impatient gesture in the Queen, and a sud- 
 den cloud over the fair brow of Margaret, instantly 
 betokened to the shrewd trader that he had com- 
 mitted some most unwelcome error in this last allu- 
 sion to the alliance with Prince Louis of France, 
 which, according to rumour, the Earl of Warwick had 
 well nigh brought to a successful negotiation ; and to 
 convince him yet more of his mistake, the Duchess 
 said, haughtily "Good fellow, be contented to 
 display thy goods, and spare us thy comments. As 
 for thy hideous fleur-de-lis, an' thy master had no 
 better device, he would not long rest the King's 
 jeweller !" 
 
 " I have no heart for the pearls," said Margaret, 
 abruptly ; " they are at best pale and sicklied. What 
 hast thou of bolder ornament, and more dazzling 
 lustrousness ?" 
 
 " These emeralds, it is said, were once among 
 the jewels of the great House of Burgundy," ob- 
 served Nicholas, slowly, and fixing his keen, saga- 
 cious look on the royal purchasers. 
 
 " Of Burgundy !" exclaimed the Queen. 
 
 " It is true," said the Duchess of Bedford, look- 
 ing at the ornament with care, and slightly colour- 
 ing for, in fact, the jewels had been a present from 
 Philip the Good to the Duke of Bedford, and the 
 exigencies of the civil wars had led, some time
 
 THE LAST OF TUB BARONS. 33 
 
 since, first, to their mortgage, or rather pawn, and 
 then to their sale. 
 
 The Princess passed her arm affectionately round 
 Jacquetta's neck, and said, " If you leave me my 
 choice, I will have none but these emeralds." 
 
 The two elder ladies exchanged looks and 
 smiles. 
 
 "Hast thou travelled, young man?" asked the 
 Duchess. 
 
 " Not in foreign parts, gracious lady, but I have 
 lived much with those who have been great wan- 
 derers." 
 
 " Ah ! and what say they of the ancient friends 
 of mine house, the Princes of Burgundy ?" 
 
 " Lady, all men agree that a nobler prince and a 
 juster than Duke Philip never reigned over brave 
 men ; and those who have seen the wisdom of his 
 rule, grieve sorely to think so excellent and mighty 
 a lord should have trouble brought to his old age by 
 the turbulence of his son, the Count of Charolois." 
 
 Again Margaret's fair brow lowered, and the 
 Duchess hastened to answer "The disputes be- 
 tween princes, young man, can never be rightly 
 understood by such as thou and thy friends. The 
 Count of Charolois is a noble gentleman ; and fire 
 in youth will break out. Richard the Lion-hearted 
 of England, was not less puissant a king for the 
 troubles he occasioned to his sire when prince." 
 
 Alwyn bit his lip, to restrain a reply that might 
 c3
 
 34 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 not have been well received ; and the Queen, put- 
 ting aside the emeralds and a few other trinkets, 
 said, smilingly, to the Duchess, " Shall the King 
 pay for these, or have thy learned men yet disco- 
 vered the Great Secret ?" 
 
 " Nay," wicked child, said the Duchess, " thou 
 lovest to banter me ; and truth to say, more gold has 
 been melted in the crucible than as yet promises 
 ever to come out of it ; but my new alchemist, 
 Master Warner, seems to have gone nearer to the 
 result than any I have yet known. Meanwhile 
 the King's treasurer must, perforce, supply the gear 
 to the King's sister." 
 
 The Queen wrote an order on the officer thus 
 referred to, who was no other than her own father, 
 Lord Rivers ; and Alwyn, putting up his goods, 
 was about to withdraw, when the Duchess said, 
 carelessly, " Good youth, the dealings of our mer- 
 chants are more with Flanders than with France is 
 it not so ?" 
 
 " Surely," said Alwyn, " the Flemings are good 
 traders and honest folk." 
 
 " It is well known, I trust, in the city of London, 
 that this new alliance with France is the work of 
 their favourite, the Lord Warwick," said the 
 Duchess, scornfully ; " but whatever the Earl does 
 is right with ye of the hood and cap, even though 
 he were to leave yon river without one merchant- 
 mast."
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 35 
 
 "Whatever be our thoughts, puissant lady," said 
 Alwyn, cautiously, " we give them not vent to the 
 meddling with state affairs." 
 
 " Ay," persisted Jacquetta, " thine answer is 
 loyal and discreet. But an' the Lord Warwick had 
 sought alliance with the Count of Charolois, would 
 there have been brighter bonfires than ye will see in 
 Smithfield, when ye hear that business with the 
 Flemings is surrendered for fine words from King 
 Louis the Cunning?" 
 
 " We trust too much to our King's love for the 
 citizens of London, to fear that surrender, please 
 your highness," answered Alwyn ; "our King him- 
 self is the first of our merchants, and he hath given 
 a gracious answer to the deputation from our city." 
 
 " You speak wisely, sir," said the Queen ; " and 
 3 7 our King will yet defend you from the plots of 
 your enemies. You may retire." 
 
 Alwyn, glad to be released from questionings 
 but little to his taste, hastened to depart. At the 
 gate of the Royal lodge, he gave his caskets to the 
 servitors who attended him, and passing slowly 
 along the court-yard, thus soliloquized: 
 
 " Our neighbours the Scotch say, * It is good 
 fishing in muddy waters ;' but he who fishes into 
 the secrets of courts must bait with his head. 
 What mischief doth that crafty quean the proud 
 Duchess devise ? Um ! They are thinking still 
 *o match the young Princess with the hot Count of
 
 36 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 Charolois. Better for trade, it is true, to be hand 
 in hand with the Flemings ; but there are two sides 
 to a loaf. If they play such a trick on the stout 
 Earl, he is not a man to sit down and do nothing. 
 More food for the ravens, I fear more brown bills 
 and bright lances in the green fields of poor Eng- 
 land ! and King Louis is an awful carle, to sow 
 flax in his neighbour's house, when the torches arc 
 burning. Urn! Here is fair Marmaduke. He 
 looks brave in his gay super-tunic. Well, sir and 
 foster-brother, how fare you at Court ?" 
 
 " My dear Nicholas, a merry welcome and hearty 
 to your sharp, thoughtful face. Ah, man ! we shall 
 have a gay time for you vendors of gewgaws. 
 There are to be revels and jousts revels in the 
 Tower, and jousts in Smithfield. We gentles are 
 already hard at practice in the Tilt-yard." 
 
 " Sham battles are better than real ones, Master 
 Nevile ! But what is in the wind ?" 
 
 " A sail, Nicholas ! a sail, bound to England ! 
 Know that the Count of Charolois has permitted 
 Sir Anthony Count de la Roche, his bastard bro- 
 ther, to come over to London, to cross lances with 
 our own Sir Anthony Lord Scales. It is an old 
 challenge, and right royally will the encounter be 
 held." 
 
 " Um !" muttered Alwyn " this bastard, then, is 
 the carrier pigeon. And," said he, aloud " is it 
 only to exchange hard blows that Sir Anthony of
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 37 
 
 Burgundy comes over to confer with Sir Anthony 
 of England ? Is there no court rumour of other 
 matters between them ?" 
 
 " Nay. What else ? Plague on you craftsmen ! 
 Ye cannot even comprehend the pleasure and pas- 
 time two knights take in the storm of the lists !" 
 
 " I humbly avow it, Master Nevile. But it 
 seemeth, indeed, strange to me that the Count of 
 Charolois should take this very moment to send 
 envoys of courtesy, when so sharp a slight has been 
 put on his pride, and so dangerous a blow struck at 
 his interests, as the alliance between the French 
 Prince and the Lady Margaret. Bold Charles has 
 some cunning, I trow, which your kinsman of 
 Warwick is not here to detect." 
 
 " Tush, man ! Trade, I see, teaches ye all so to 
 cheat and overreach, that ye suppose a knight's 
 burgonot is as full of tricks and traps as a citizen's 
 flat-cap. Would, though, that my kinsman of War- 
 wick were here," added Marmaduke, in a low 
 whisper, " for the women and the courtiers are 
 doing their best to belie him." 
 
 " Keep thyself clear of them all, Marmaduke," 
 said Alwyn ; " for, by the Lord, I see that the 
 evil days are coming once more, fast and dark, 
 and men like thee will again have to choose be- 
 tween friend and friend, kinsman and king. For 
 my part, I say nothing; for I love not fighting, 
 unless compelled to it. But if ever I do fight, it 
 
 VOL. n. 
 
 154143
 
 38 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 will not be by thy side under Warwick's broad 
 
 " Eh, man ?" interrupted the Nevile. 
 
 " Nay, nay," continued Nicholas, shaking his 
 head, " I admire the great Earl, and were I lord or 
 gentle, the great Earl should be my chief. But each 
 to his order ; and the trader's tree grows not out of 
 a baron's walking-staff. King Edward may be a 
 stern ruler, but he is a friend to the goldsmiths, 
 and has just confirmed our charter. Let every 
 man praise the bridge he goes over, as the saw saith. 
 Truce to this talk, Master Nevile. I hear that your 
 young hostess ehem Mistress Sybill, is greatly 
 marvelled at among the court gallants is it so ?" 
 
 Marmaduke's frank face grew gloomy. " Alas ! 
 dear foster-brother, he said, dropping the some- 
 what affected tone in which he had before spoken, 
 " I must confess, to my shame, that I cannot yet 
 get the damsel out of my thoughts, which is, what I 
 consider it a point of manhood and spirit to 
 achieve." 
 
 How so ?" 
 
 " Because, when a maiden chooseth steadily to 
 say nay to your wooing to follow her heels, and 
 whine and beg, is a dog's duty, not a man's." 
 
 " What !" exclaimed Alwyn, in a voice of great 
 eagerness " mean you to say that you have wooed 
 Sybill Warner as your wife ?" 
 
 " Verily, yes !"
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 39 
 
 "And failed?" 
 
 "And failed!" 
 
 "Poor Marmaduke!" 
 
 " There is no * poor' in the matter, Nick Alwyn," 
 returned Marmaduke, sturdily ; " if a girl likes me, 
 well ; if not, there are too many others in the wide 
 world, for a young fellow to break his heart about 
 one. Yet," he added, after a short pause, and 
 with a sigh, " yet, if thou hast not seen her since 
 she came to the Court, thou wilt find her won- 
 drously changed." 
 
 " More's the pity !" said Ahvyn, reciprocating 
 his friend's sigh. 
 
 " I mean that she seems all the comelier for the 
 Court air. And beshrew me, I think, the Lord 
 Hastings, with his dulcet flatteries, hath made it a 
 sort of frenzy for all the gallants to flock round 
 her." 
 
 " I should like to see Master Warner again," 
 said Alwyn ; " where lodges he ?" 
 
 " Yonder by the little postern, on the third 
 flight of the turret that flanks the corridor,* next 
 to Friar Bungey, the magician; but it is broad 
 daylight, and therefore not so dangerous not but 
 thou mayest as well patter an Ave in going up 
 stairs." 
 
 " Farewell, Master Nevile," said Alwyn, smiling ; 
 
 * This description refers to that part of the Tower, called the 
 King's or Queen's Lodge, and long since destroyed.
 
 40 
 
 THE LAST OF THE BAROJJS. 
 
 " I will seek the mechanician, and if I find there 
 Mistress Sybil!, what shall I say from thee ?" 
 
 " That young bachelors in the reign of Ed- 
 ward IV. will never want fair feres," answered the 
 Nevile, debonnairly smoothing his lawn partelet.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 41 
 
 IV. 
 
 EXHIBITING THE BENEFITS WHICH ROYAL, PATRONAGE CON- 
 FERS ON GENIUS. ALSO THE EARLT LOVES OF THE LORD 
 HASTINGS ; WITH OTHER MATTERS EDIFYING AND DELEC- 
 TABLE. 
 
 THE furnace was still at work, the flame glowed, 
 the bellows heaved, but these were no longer 
 ministering to the service of a mighty and prac- 
 tical invention. The Mathematician the Philoso- 
 pher had descended to the Alchemist. The na- 
 ture of the TIME had conquered the nature of a 
 GENIUS meant to subdue time. Those studies that 
 had gone so far to forestall the master-triumph of 
 far later ages were exchanged for occupations that 
 played with the toys of infant wisdom. O ! true 
 Tartarus of Genius when its energies are mis- 
 applied, when the labour but rolls the stone up 
 the mountain, but pours water upon water, through 
 the sieve ! 
 
 There is a sanguineness in men of great in- 
 tellect, which often leads them into follies avoided
 
 42 THE LA'ST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 by the dull. When Adam Warner saw the ruin 
 of his contrivance ; when he felt that time, and 
 toil, and money were necessary to its restora- 
 tion ; and when the gold he lacked was placed 
 efore him as a reward for alchemical labours he 
 at first turned to alchemy, as he would have turned 
 to the plough as he had turned to conspiracy 
 simply as a means to his darling end. But by 
 rapid degrees, the fascination which all the elder 
 sages experienced in The Grand Secret, exer- 
 cised its witchery over his mind. If Roger Bacon, 
 though catching the notion of the steam-engine, 
 devoted himself to the philosopher's stone if even 
 in so much more enlightened an age, Newton had 
 wasted some precious hours in the transmutation of 
 metals, it was natural that the solitary sage of the 
 reign of Edward IV. should grow, for awhile at 
 least, wedded to a pursuit which promised results so 
 august. And the worst of alchemy is, that it always 
 allures on its victims : one gets so near, and so near the 
 object it seems that so small an addition will com- 
 plete the sum ! So there he was this great practical 
 genius, hard at work on turning copper into gold ! 
 " Well, Master Warner," said the young gold- 
 smith, entering the student's chamber " methinks 
 you scarcely remember your friend and visitor, 
 Nicholas Alwyn ?" 
 
 " Remember, oh, certes ! doubtless one of the 
 gentlemen present when they proposed to put me
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 43 
 
 to the brake* please to stand a little on this side 
 what is your will ?" 
 
 " I am not a gentleman, and I should have been 
 loth to stand idly by when the torture was talked 
 of, for a free-born Englishman, let alone a scholar. 
 And where is your fair daughter, Master Warner ? 
 I suppose you see but little of her now she is the 
 great dame's waiting-damsel ?" 
 
 " And why so, Master Alwyn ?" asked a charm- 
 ing voice ; and Alwyn, for the first time, perceived 
 the young form of Sybill, by the embrasure of a 
 window, from which might be seen in the court 
 below, a gay group of lords and courtiers, with the 
 plain, dark dress of Hastings, contrasting their 
 gaudy surcoats, glittering with cloth of gold. 
 Alwyn's tongue clove to his mouth ; all he had to 
 say was forgotten in a certain bashful and indescri- 
 bable emotion. 
 
 The alchemist had returned to his furnace, and 
 the young man and the girl were as much alone as 
 if Adam Warner had been in heaven. 
 
 " And why should the daughter forsake the 
 sire more in a court where love is rare, than in the 
 humbler home, where they may need each other 
 less ?" 
 
 " I thank thee for the rebuke, mistress," said 
 Alwyn, delighted with her speech ; " for I should 
 have been sorry to see thy heart spoiled by the 
 * Brake, the old word for rack.
 
 44 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 vanities that kill most natures." Scarcely had he 
 uttered these words, than they seemed to him over- 
 bold and presuming ; for his eye now took in the 
 great change of which Marmaduke had spoken. Sy- 
 bill's dress beseemed the new rank which she held : 
 the corset, fringed with gold, and made of the finest 
 thread, shewed the exquisite contour of the throat 
 and neck, whose ivory it concealed. The kirtle 
 of rich blue became the fair complexion and dark 
 chesnut hair; and over all she wore that most 
 graceful robe called the sasquenice, of which the 
 old French poet sang : 
 
 " Car nulle robe u'est si belle; 
 A dame ne a demoiselle." 
 
 This garment, worn over the rest of the dress, 
 had perhaps a classical origin, and with slight varia- 
 tions, may be seen on the Etruscan vases ; it was 
 long and loose of the whitest and finest linen 
 with hanging sleeves, and open at the sides. But 
 it was not the mere dress that had embellished the 
 young maiden's form and aspect it was rather an 
 indefinable alteration in the expression and the 
 bearing. She looked as if born to the air of courts ; 
 still modest, indeed, and simple but with a con- 
 sciousness of dignity, and almost of power ; and 
 in fact the Woman had been taught the power that 
 Womanhood possesses. She had been admired, 
 followed, flattered ; she had learned the Authority
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 45 
 
 of Beauty. Her accomplishments, uncommon in 
 that age among her sex, had aided her charm of 
 person : her natural pride, which though hitherto 
 latent, was high and ardent, fed her heart with 
 sweet hopes a bright career seemed to extend be- 
 fore her ; and, at peace as to her father's safety 
 relieved from the drudging cares of poverty her 
 fancy was free to follow the phantasms of sanguine 
 youth through the airy land of dreams. And 
 therefore it was that the maid was changed ! 
 
 At the sight of the delicate beauty the self-pos- 
 sessed expression the courtly dress the noble air 
 of Sybill Nicholas Alwyn recoiled, and turned pale 
 he no longer marvelled at her rejection of Mar- 
 maduke, and he started at the remembrance of the 
 bold thoughts, when recalling her poor and friend- 
 less, he had dared himself to indulge. 
 
 The girl smiled at the young man's confusion. 
 
 " It is not prosperity that spoils the heart," she 
 said, touchingly, " unless it be mean, indeed. Thou 
 rememberest, Master Alwyn, that when God tried 
 his saint, it was by adversity and affliction." 
 
 " May thy trial in these last be over," answered 
 Alwyn ; " but the humble must console tlieir state 
 by thinking that the great have their trials too ; 
 nd, as our homely adage hath it, 'That is not 
 always good in the maw which is sweet in the 
 mouth.' Thou seest much of my gentle foster- 
 brother, Mistress Svbill?"
 
 46 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 " But in the court dances, Master Alwyn ; for 
 most of the hours in which my lady Duchess needs 
 me not are spent here. Oh, my father hopes great 
 things ! and now at last fame dawns upon him." 
 
 " I rejoice to hear it, mistress ; and so, having 
 paid ye both my homage, I take my leave, praying 
 that I may visit you from time to time, if it be only 
 to consult this worshipful Master, touching certain 
 improvements in the Horologe, in which his mathe- 
 matics can doubtless instruct me Farewell. I have 
 some jewels to shew to the Lady of Bonville." 
 
 The Lady of Bonville ! " repeated Sybill, 
 changing colour ; " she is a dame of notable loveli- 
 ness." 
 
 " So men say and mated to a foolish lord ; but 
 scandal, which spares few, breathes not on her 
 rare praise for a court dame. Few houses can 
 have the boast of Lord Warwick's ' that all the 
 men are without fear, and all the women without 
 stain.' " 
 
 "It is said," observed Sybill, looking down, 
 " that my Lord Hastings once much affectioned 
 the Lady Bonville. Hast thou heard such gossip ?" 
 
 " Surely, yes : in the city we hear all the tales 
 of the Court ; for many a courtier, following King 
 Edward's exemplar, dines with the citizen to-day, 
 that he may borrow gold from the citizen to-mor- 
 row. Surely, yes ; and hence, they say, the small 
 love the wise Hastings bears to the stout Earl." 

 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 47 
 
 " How runs the tale ? Be seated, Master Alwyn." 
 
 " Marry, thus : when William Hastings was but 
 a squire, and much favoured by Richard, Duke of 
 York, he lifted his eyes to the Lady Katherine Ne- 
 vile, sister to the Earl of Warwick ; and in beauty 
 and in dower, as in birth, a mate for a king's son." 
 
 " And, doubtless, the Lady Katherine returned 
 his love?" 
 
 " So it is said, maiden ; and the Earl of Salis- 
 bury, her father, and Lord Warwick, her brother, 
 discovered the secret, and swore that no New 
 Man (the stout Earl's favourite word of contempt) 
 though he were made a duke, should give to 
 an upstart posterity the quarterings of Montagu 
 and Nevile. Marry, Mistress Sybill, there is a 
 north country and pithy proverb, 'Happy is the 
 man whose father went to the devil.' Had some 
 old Hastings been a robber and extortioner, and 
 left to brave William the heirship of his wicked- 
 ness in lordships and lands, Lord Warwick had not 
 called him 'a new man.' Master Hastings was 
 dragged, like a serf's son, before the Earl on his 
 dais; and be sure he was rated soundly, for his 
 bold blood was up, and he defied the Earl, as a 
 gentleman born, to single battle. Then the Earl's 
 followers would have fallen on him ; and in those 
 days, under King Henry, he who bearded a baron 
 in his hall must have a troop at his back, or was 
 like to have a rope round his neck ; but the Earl,
 
 48 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 (for the lion is not as fierce as they paint him,) 
 came down from his dais, and said, * Man, I like thy 
 spirit, and I myself will dub thce knight, that I 
 may pick up thy glove and give thee battle.'" 
 
 " And they fought? Brave Hastings!" 
 
 " No. For, whether the Duke of York forbade 
 it, or whether the Lady Katherine would not hear 
 of such strife between fere and frere, I know not ; 
 but Duke Richard sent Hastings to Ireland, and, a 
 month after, the Lady Katherine married Lord 
 Bonville's son and heir so, at least, tell the gos- 
 sips and sing the ballad-mongers. Men add, that 
 Lord Hastings still loves the dame, though, certes, 
 he knows how to console himself." 
 
 " Loves her ! Nay, nay I trow not," answered 
 Sybill, in a low voice, and with a curl of her dewy 
 lip. 
 
 At this moment the door opened gently, and 
 Lord Hastings himself entered. He came in with 
 the familiarity of one accustomed to the place. 
 
 " And how fares the grand secret, Master War- 
 ner ? Sweet mistress ! thou seemest lovelier to me 
 in this dark chamber than outshining all in the 
 galliard. Ha! Master Alwyn, I owe thee many 
 thanks for making me know first the rare arts of 
 this fair emblazoncr. Move me yon stool, good 
 Alwyn." 
 
 As the goldsmith obeyed, he glanced from Has- 
 tings to the blushing face and heaving bosom of
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 49 
 
 Sybill, and a deep and exquisite pang shot through 
 his heart. It was not jealousy alone ; it was anxiety, 
 compassion, terror. The powerful Hastings the 
 ambitious lord the accomplished libertine what 
 a fate for poor Sybill, if for such a man the cheek 
 blushed, and the bosom heaved ! 
 
 " Well, Master Warner," resumed Hastings, 
 " thou art still silent as to thy progress." 
 
 The philosopher uttered an impatient groan. 
 
 " Ah, I comprehend. The gold-maker must not 
 speak of his craft before the goldsmith. Good Alwyn, 
 thou mayest retire. All arts have their mysteries." 
 
 Alwyn, with a sombre brow, moved to the door. 
 
 " In sooth," he said, " I have over-tarried, good 
 my lord. The Lady Bonville will chide me ; for 
 she is of no patient temper." 
 
 " Bridle thy tongue, artisan, and begone !" said 
 Hastings, with unusual haughtiness and petulance. 
 
 " I stung him there," muttered Alwyn, as he 
 withdrew " oh ! fool that I was to -nay, I thought 
 it never, I did but dream it. What wonder we 
 traders hate these silken lords. They reap, we sow 
 they trifle, we toil they steal with soft words 
 into the hearts which Oh ! Marmaduke, thou art 
 right right ! Stout men sit not down to weep 
 beneath the willow. But she the poor maiden ! 
 she looked so haught and so happy. This is early 
 May; will she wear that look when the autumn 
 lenvcs are strewn ?" 
 
 VOL. II, D
 
 50 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 V. 
 
 THE WOODVIIXE INTRIGUE PROSPERS MONTAGU CONFERS 
 
 WITH HASTINGS VISITS THE ARCHBISHOP OF YORK, AND 
 
 IS MET ON THE ROAD BY A STRANGE PERSONAGE. 
 
 X 
 
 AND now the one topic at the Court of King 
 Edward IV. was the expected arrival of Anthony 
 of Burgundy, Count de la Roche, bastard brother 
 of Charolois, afterwards, as Duke of Burgundy, 
 so famous as Charles le Temerairc. Few, indeed, 
 out of the immediate circle of the Duchess of 
 Bedford's confidants, regarded the visit of this 
 illustrious foreigner as connected with any object 
 beyond the avowed one of chivalrous encounter 
 with Anthony Woodville ; the fulfilment of a 
 challenge given by the latter two years before, at 
 the time of the queen's coronation. The origin 
 of this challenge, Anthony Woodville Lord Scales 
 has himself explained in a letter to the bastard, 
 still extant, and of which an extract may be seen
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 51 
 
 in the popular and delightful biographies of Miss 
 Strickland.* 
 
 It seems that, on the Wednesday before Easter- 
 day, 1465, as Sir Anthony was speaking to his royal 
 sister, " on his knees," all the ladies of the court 
 gathered round him, and bound to his left knee a 
 band of gold, adorned with stones fashioned into 
 the letters S.S., (souvenance or remembrance,) and 
 to this band was suspended an enamelled " Forget 
 me not." "And one of the ladies said that 'I 
 ought to take a step fitting for the times.' " This 
 step was denoted by a letter on vellum, bound with 
 a gold thread, placed in his cap ; and having ob- 
 tained the king's permission to bring the adventure 
 of the flower of souvenance to a conclusion, the 
 gallant Anthony forwarded the articles and the 
 enamelled flower to the bastard of Burgundy, be- 
 seeching him to touch the latter with his knightly 
 hand, in token of his accepting the challenge. 
 The Count De la Roche did so, but was not sent 
 by his brother amongst the knights whom Charolois 
 despatched to England, and the combat had been 
 suspended to the present time. 
 
 But now the intriguing Rivers and his duchess 
 gladly availed themselves of so fair a pretext for 
 introducing to Edward the able brother of War- 
 wick's enemy, and the French prince's rival, Charles 
 
 * Queens of England, vol. iii. p. 380. 
 D2 

 
 52 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 of Burgundy ; and Anthony Woodville, loo gentle 
 and knightly a person to have abetted their cun- 
 ning projects in any mode less chivalrous, willingly 
 consented to revive a challenge in honour of the 
 ladies of England. 
 
 The only one amongst the courtiers who seemed 
 dissatisfied with the meditated visit of the doughty 
 Burgundian champion was the Lord Montagu. 
 This penetrating and experienced personage was 
 not to be duped by an affectation of that chivalry 
 which, however natural at the court of Edward III., 
 \vas no longer in unison with the more intriguing 
 and ambitious times over which presided the 
 luxurious husband of Elizabeth Woodville. He 
 had noticed of late, with suspicion, that Edward 
 had held several councils with the anti-Nevile 
 faction, from which he himself was excluded. 
 The King, who heretofore had delighted in his 
 companionship, had shewn him marks of coldness 
 and estrangement, and there was an exulting 
 malice in the looks of the Duchess of Bedford, 
 which augured some approaching triumph over 
 the great family which the Woodvilles so openly 
 laboured to supplant. One day, as Marmadukc 
 w r as loitering in the court-yard of the Tower, laugh- 
 ing and jesting with his friends, Lord Montagu, 
 issuing from the King's closet, passed him with a 
 hurried step and a thoughtful brow. This haughty 
 brother of the Earl of Warwick had so far attended
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 53 
 
 to the recommendation of the latter, that he had 
 with some courtesy excused himself to Marmaduke 
 for his language in the archery ground, and had 
 subsequently, when seeing him in attendance on 
 the King, honoured him with a stately nod, or a 
 brief "Good morrow, young kinsman." But as 
 his eye now rested on Marmaduke, while the group 
 vailed their bonnets to the powerful courtier, he 
 called him forth, with a familiar smile he had 
 never before assumed, and drawing him apart, and 
 leaning on his shoulder, much to the envy of the 
 standers by, he said, caressingly, 
 
 " Dear kinsman Guy " 
 
 " Marmaduke, please you, my lord." 
 " Dear kinsman Marmaduke, my brother es- 
 teems you for your father's sake. And, sooth to 
 say, the Neviles are not so numerous at Court as 
 they were. Business and state matters have made 
 me see too seldom those whom I would most affect. 
 Wilt thou ride with me to the More Park? I 
 would present thee to my brother the Archbishop." 
 "If the King would graciously hold me ex- 
 cused." 
 
 " The King, sir ! when / I forgot," said Montagu, 
 checking himself " oh, as to that, the King stirs 
 not out to-day ! He hath with him a score of 
 tailors and armourers, in high council on the coming 
 festivities. I will warrant thy release ; and here 
 comes Hastings, who shall confirm it."
 
 54 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 " Fair my lord !" as at that moment Hastings 
 emerged from the little posteni that gave egress 
 from the apartments occupied by the Alchemist of 
 the Duchess of Bedford " wilt thou be pleased, in 
 thy capacity of chamberlain, to sanction my cousin 
 in a day's absence ? I would confer with him on 
 family matters." 
 
 " Certes, a small favour to so deserving a youth. 
 I will see to his deputy." 
 
 "A word with you, Hastings," said Montagu, 
 thoughtfully, and he drew aside his fellow courtier : 
 "what thinkest thou of this Burgundy bastard's 
 visit ?" 
 
 " That it has given a peacock's strut to the 
 popinjay Anthony Woodville." 
 
 " Would that were all," returned Montagu. " But 
 the very moment that Warwick is negotiating with 
 Louis of France, this interchange of courtesies 
 with Louis's deadly foe, the Count of Charolois, is 
 out of season." 
 
 " Nay, take it not so gravely a mere pastime." 
 
 " Hastings, thou knowest better. But thou art 
 no friend of my great brother." 
 
 " Small cause have I to be so," answered Has- 
 tings, with a quivering lip. " To him and your 
 father, I owe as deep a curse as ever fell on the 
 heart of man. I have lived to be above even Lord 
 Warwick's insult. Yet young, I stand amongst the 
 \varriors and peers of England, with a crest as
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 55 
 
 haught, and a scutcheon as stainless as the best. I 
 have drank deep of the world's pleasures. I com- 
 mand, as I list, the world's gaudy pomps, and I tell 
 thee, that all my success in life countervails not the 
 agony of the hour, when all the bloom and loveli- 
 ness of the earth faded into winter, and the only 
 woman I ever loved was sacrificed to her brother's 
 pride."' 
 
 The large drops stood on the pale brow of the 
 fortunate noble as he thus spoke, and his hollow 
 voice affected even the worldly Montagu. 
 
 " Tush, Hastings !" said Montagu, kindly; 
 " these are but a young man's idle memories. Are 
 we not all fated, in our early years, to love in 
 vain ? even 1 married not the maiden I thought 
 the fairest, and held the dearest. For the rest, be- 
 think thee thou wert then but a simple squire." 
 
 "But of as ancient and pure a blood as ever 
 rolled its fiery essence through a Norman's veins." 
 
 "It may be so; but old houses, when impo- 
 verished, are cheaply held. And thou must con- 
 fess thou wert then no mate for Katherine. Now, 
 indeed, it were different ; now a Nevile might be 
 proud to call Hastings brother." 
 
 " I know it," said Hastings, proudly " I know 
 it, Lord, and why ? Because I have gold, and 
 land, and the King's love, and can say, as the Centu- 
 rion, to my fellow-man, * Do this, and he doeth it' ;
 
 50 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 and yet I tell thec, Lord Montagu, that I am less 
 worthy now the love of beauty, the right hand of 
 fellowship from a noble spirit, than I was then 
 when the simple squire my heart full of truth and 
 loyalty, with lips that had never lied, with a soul 
 never polluted by un\vorthy pleasures or mean 
 intrigues, I felt that Katherine Ncvile should 
 never blush to own her fere and plighted lord in 
 William de Hastings. Let this pass let it pass. 
 You call me no friend to Warwick. True ! but I 
 am a friend to the King he has served, and the 
 land of my birth to which he has given peace ; and, 
 therefore, not till Warwick desert Edward, not till 
 he wakes the land again to broil and strife, will I 
 mingle in the plots of those who seek his downfall. 
 If, in my office and stated rank, I am compelled to 
 countenance the pageant of this mock tournament, 
 and seem to honour the coming of the Count de la 
 Roche, I will at least stand aloof and free from all 
 attempt to apply a gaudy pageant to a dangerous 
 policy ; and on this pledge, Montagu, I give you 
 my knightly hand." 
 
 " It suffices," answered Montagu, pressing the 
 hand extended to him. "But the other day I 
 heard the King's dissour tell him a tale of some 
 tyrant, who silently shewed a curious questioner 
 how to govern a land, by cutting down, with his 
 staff, the heads of the tallest poppies ; and the
 
 THE LAST OF THE BAROttS. 57 
 
 Duchess of Bedford turned to me, and asked 
 ' What says a Nevilc to the application ?' 
 'Faith, lady,' said I, 'the Nevile poppies have 
 oak stems.' Believe me, Hastings, these Wood- 
 villes may grieve and wrong and affront Lord 
 Warwick, but woe to all the pigmy goaders, when 
 the lion turns at bay." 
 
 With this solemn menace, Montagu quitted 
 Hastings, and passed on, leaning upon Marma- 
 duke, and with a gloomy brow. 
 
 At the gate of the palace waited the Lord Mon- 
 tagu's palfrey and his retinue of twenty squires and 
 thirty grooms. " Mount, Master Marmaduke, and 
 take thy choice among these steeds, for we shall 
 ride alone. There is no Nevile amongst these 
 gentlemen." Marmaduke obeyed. The Earl dis- 
 missed his retinue, and in little more than ten 
 minutes, so different, then, was the extent of the 
 metropolis, the noble and the squire were amidst 
 the open fields. 
 
 They had gone several miles, at a brisk trot, 
 before the Earl opened his lips, and then, slackening 
 his pace, he said abruptly, " How dost thou like the 
 King? Speak out, youth; there are no eaves- 
 droppers here." 
 
 " He is a most gracious master, and a most win* 
 ning gentleman." 
 
 "He is both," said Montagu, with a touch of 
 emotion, that surprised Marmaduke, " and no man 
 
 D3
 
 58 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 can come near without loving him. And yet, 
 Marmaduke (is that thy name ?) yet, whether it 
 be weakness or falseness, no man can be sure of his 
 King's favour from day to day ! We Ncviles must 
 hold fast to each other. Not a stick should be lost, 
 if the faggot is to remain unbroken. What say 
 you ?" And the Earl's keen eye turned sharply on 
 the young man. 
 
 " I say, my lord, that the Earl of Warwick was 
 to me, patron, lord, and father, when I entered yon 
 city a friendless orphan ; and that, though I covet 
 honours, and love pleasure, and would be loth to 
 lift finger or speak word against King Edward, 
 yet were that princely lord the Head of mine 
 House an outcast and a beggar, by his side I would 
 wander, for his bread I would beg !" 
 
 " Young man," exclaimed Montagu, " from this 
 hour I admit thee to my heart ! Give me thy 
 hand. Beggar and outcast ? No ! If the storm 
 come, the meaner birds take to shelter, the eagle 
 remains solitary in heaven!" So saying, he re- 
 lapsed into silence, and put spurs to his steed. 
 
 Towards the decline of day they drew near to the 
 favourite palace of the Archbishop of York. There, 
 the features of the country presented a more culti- 
 vated aspect than it had hitherto worn. For at that 
 period the lands of the churchmen were infinitely 
 in advance of those of the laity, in the elementary 
 arts of husbandry, partly because the ecclesiastic
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 59 
 
 proprietors had greater capital at their command, 
 partly because their superior learning had taught 
 them to avail themselves, in some measure, of the 
 instructions of the Latin writers. Still the pre- 
 vailing characteristic of the scenery was pasture 
 land immense tracts of common supported flocks 
 of sheep ; the fragrance of new-mown hay 
 breathed sweet from many a sunny field. In the 
 rear, stretched woods of Druid growth ; and in 
 the narrow lanes, that led to unfrequent farms and 
 homesteads, built almost entirely either of wood 
 or (more primitive still) of mud and clay, profuse 
 weeds, brambles, and wild flowers, almost concealed 
 the narrow pathway, never intended for cart or 
 wagon, and arrested the slow path of the ragged 
 horse bearing the scanty produce of acres to yard 
 or mill. But, though to the eye of an ceconomist or 
 philanthropist, broad England now, with its varie- 
 gated agriculture, its wide roads, its whitewalled 
 villas, and numerous towns, may present a more 
 smiling countenance, to the early lover of Nature, 
 fresh from the child-like age of Poetry and Romance, 
 the rich and lovely verdure which gave to our 
 mother-country the name of " Green England ;" its 
 wild woods and covert alleys, proffering adventure 
 to fancy ; its tranquil heaths, studded with peaceful 
 flocks, and vocal, from time to time, with the rude 
 scrannel of the shepherd had a charm which we 
 can understand alone by the luxurious reading of our
 
 60 THE LAST OF THE BAUONS. 
 
 older writers. For the country itself ministered to 
 that mingled fancy and contemplation which the 
 stirring and ambitious life of towns and civilization 
 has in much banished from our later literature. 
 
 Even the thoughtful Montague relaxed his brow 
 as he gazed around, and he said to Marmadukc, in 
 a gentle and subdued voice 
 
 " Methinks, young cousin, that in such scenes, 
 those silly rhymes, taught us in our childhood, of 
 the green woods and the summer cuckoos, of 
 bold Robin and Maid Marian, ring back in our 
 ears. Alas, that this fair land should be so often 
 dyed in the blood of her own children ! Here, how 
 the thought shrinks from broils "and war civil 
 war war between brother and brother, son and 
 father ! In the city and the court, we forget others 
 overmuch, from the too keen memory of our- 
 selves." 
 
 Scarcely had Montagu said these words, before 
 there suddenly emerged from a bosky lane to the 
 right a man mounted upon a powerful roan horse. 
 His dress was that of a substantial franklin ; a 
 green surtout of broad cloth, over a tight vest of 
 the same colour, left, to the admiration of a sol- 
 dierly eye, an expanse of chest that might have 
 vied with the mighty strength of Warwick himself. 
 A cap, somewhat like a turban, fell in two ends 
 over the left cheek, till they touched the shoulder, 
 and the upper part of the visage was concealed by
 
 THE LAST OF THE BAUONS. 61 
 
 a halt' vizard, not unfrequently worn out of doors 
 with such head-gear, as a shade from the sun. 
 Behind this person rode, on a horse equally 
 powerful, a man of shorter stature, but scarcely 
 less muscular a frame, clad in a leathern jerkin, 
 curiously fastened with thongs, and wearing a steel 
 bonnet projecting far over the face. 
 
 The foremost of these strangers, coming thus 
 unawares upon the courtiers, reined in his steed, 
 and said, in a clear, full voice " Good evening to 
 you, my masters. It is not often that these roads 
 witness riders in silk and pile." 
 
 " Friend," quoth the Montagu, " may the 
 peace we enjoy under the White Rose increase 
 the number of all travellers through our land, 
 whether in pile or russet !" 
 
 " Peace, sir !" returned the horseman, roughly 
 " peace is no blessing to poor men, unless it bring 
 something more than life the means to live in 
 security and ease. Peace hath done nothing for the 
 Poor of England. Why, look you towards yon 
 grey tower the owner is, forsooth, gentleman and 
 knight; but yesterday, he and his men broke 
 open a yeoman's house, carried off his wife and 
 daughters to his tower, and refuseth to surrender 
 them till ransomed by half the year's produce on 
 the yeoman's farm." 
 
 " A caitiff, and illegal act," said Montagu. 
 
 " Illegal ! But the law will notice it not why
 
 62 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 should it ? Unjust, if it punish the knight, and 
 dare not touch the king's brother !" 
 
 "How, sir?" 
 
 " I say the King's brother. . Scarcely a month 
 since, twenty-four persons, under George, Duke of 
 Clarence, entered by force a lady's house, and 
 seized her jewels and her money, upon some 
 charge, God wot, of contriving mischief to the 
 Boy-Duke.* Are not the Commons ground by im- 
 posts for the Queen's kindred ? Are not the King's 
 officers and purveyors licensed spoilers and rapiners? 
 Are not the old chivalry banished for new upstarts ? 
 And in all this, is peace better than war ?" 
 
 " Knowest thou not that these words are death, 
 man ?" 
 
 " Ay, in the city ! but in the fields and waste, 
 thought is free. Frown not, my lord. Ah! I 
 know you; and the time may come when the 
 Baron will act what the Franklin speaks. What, 
 think you I see not the signs of the storm ? Are 
 Warwick and Montagu more safe with Edward 
 than they were with Henry? Look to thyself! 
 Charolois will outwit King Louis, and ere the 
 year be out, the young Margaret of England will 
 be lady of your brave brother's sternest foe !" 
 
 * See for this and other instances of the prevalent contempt 
 of law in the reign of Edward IV., and, indeed, during the 15lh 
 century, the extracts from the Parliamentary Rolls, quoted by 
 Sharon Turner, History of England, vol. iii., p. 399.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 63 
 
 " And who art them, knave ?" cried Montagu, 
 aghast, and laying his gloved hand on the bold 
 prophet's bridle. 
 
 " One who has sworn the fall of the House of York, 
 and may live to fight, side by side, in that cause with 
 Warwick ; for Warwick, whatever be his faults, has 
 an English heart, and loves the Commons." 
 
 Montagu, uttering an exclamation of astonish- 
 ment, relaxed hold of the franklin's bridle; and 
 the latter waved his hand, and spurring his steed 
 across the wild chain of commons, disappeared with 
 his follower. 
 
 " A sturdy traitor !" muttered the Earl, following 
 him with his eye. " One of the exiled Lan- 
 castrian lords, perchance. Strange how they 
 pierce into our secrets ! Heardst thou that fellow, 
 Marmaduke ?" 
 
 " Only in a few sentences, and those brought 
 my hand to my dagger. But as thou madest no 
 sign, I thought his Grace the King could not be 
 much injured by empty words." 
 
 " True ! and misfortune has ever a shrewish 
 tongue." 
 
 "An' it please you, my lord," quoth Marma- 
 duke, " I have seen the man before, and it seemeth 
 to me that he holds much power over the rascal 
 rabble." And here Marmaduke narrated the 
 attack upon Warner's house, and how it was frus- 
 trated by the intercession of Robin of Redesdale.
 
 64 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 " Art thou sure it is the same man for his 
 lace was masked ?" 
 
 " My lord, in the North, as thou knowest, we 
 recognise men by their forms, not faces, as, in 
 truth, we ought, seeing that it is the sinews and 
 bulk, not the lips and nose, that make a man a 
 useful friend or dangerous foe." 
 
 Montagu smiled at this soldierly simplicity. 
 
 " And heard you the name the raptrils shouted ?" 
 
 " Robin !' my Lord. They cried out ' Robin,' as 
 if it had been a * Montagu' or a ' Warwick.' " 
 
 " Robin ! ah, then, 1 guess the man a most 
 perilous and staunch Lancastrian. He has more 
 weight with the poor than had Cade the rebel, and 
 they say Margaret trusts him as much as she doth 
 an Exeter or Somerset. I marvel that he should 
 shew himself so near the gates^ of London. It 
 must be looked to. But come, cousin. Our steeds 
 are breathed let us on !" 
 
 On arriving at the More, its stately architecture, 
 embellished by the prelate with a facade of double 
 arches, painted and blazoned somewhat in the 
 fashion of certain old Italian houses, much dazzled 
 Marmaduke. And the splendour of the arch- 
 bishop's retinue less martial, indeed, than War- 
 wick's was yet more imposing to the common eye. 
 Every office that pomp could devise for a king's 
 court was to be found in the household of this 
 magnificent prelate : master of the horse and the
 
 TUB LAST OF THE BARONS. G5 
 
 hounds, chamberlain, treasurer, pursuivant, herald, 
 seneschal, captain of the body guard, &c. and all 
 cmulously sought for and proudly held by gentle- 
 men of the first blood and birth. His mansion was 
 at once a court for middle life, a school for youth, 
 an asylum for age ; and thither, as to a Medici, fled 
 the Letters and the Arts. 
 
 Through corridor and hall, lined with pages and 
 squires, passed Montagu and Marmaduke, till they 
 gained a quaint garden, the wonder and envy of 
 the time, planned by an Italian of Mantua, and 
 perhaps the stateliest one of the kind existent in 
 England. Straight walks, terraces, and fountains, 
 clipped trees, green alleys and smooth bowling- 
 greens abounded, but the flowers were few and 
 common ; and if here and there a statue might be 
 found, it possessed none of the art so admirable in 
 our earliest ecclesiastical architecture, but its clumsy 
 proportions were made more uncouth by a pro- 
 fusion of barbaric painting and gilding. The 
 fountains, however, were especially curious, diver- 
 sified, and elaborate : some shot up as pyramids, 
 others coiled in undulating streams, each jet chasing 
 the other as serpents ; some, again, branched off in 
 the form of trees, while mimic birds, perched upon 
 leaden boughs, poured water from their bills. Mar- 
 maduke, much astounded and bewildered, mut- 
 tered a pater noster in great haste ; and even the 
 clerical rank of the prelate did not preserve him
 
 66 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 from the suspicion of magical practices in the 
 youth's mind. 
 
 Remote from all his train, in a little arbour over- 
 grown with the honeysuckle and white rose, a 
 small table before him bearing fruits, confectionary, 
 and spiced wines, (for the prelate was a celebrated 
 epicure, though still in the glow of youth,) they 
 found George Nevile, reading lazily a Latin MS. 
 
 " Well," my dear lord and brother, " said Mon- 
 tagu, laying his arm on the prelate's shoulder 
 "first let me present to thy favour a gallant youth, 
 Marmaduke Nevile, worthy his name, and thy 
 love." 
 
 " He is welcome, Montagu, to our poor house," 
 said the Archbishop, rising, and complacently 
 glancing at his palace, splendidly gleaming through 
 the trellis-work, " ' Puer ingenui vultus.'' Thou art 
 acquainted, doubtless, young sir, with the Humaner 
 Letters ?" 
 
 " Well-a-day, my lord, my nurturing was some- 
 what neglected in the province," said Marmaduke, 
 disconcerted, and deeply blushing, "and only of 
 late have I deemed the languages fit study for 
 those not reared for our Mother Church." 
 
 " Fie, sir, fie ! Correct that error, I pray thee. 
 Latin teaches the courtier how to thrive, the soldier 
 how to manoeuvre, the husbandman how to sow ; 
 and if we churchmen are more cunning, as the pro- 
 fane call us, (and the prelate smiled) than ye of the
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 67 
 
 laity, the Latin must answer for the sins of our 
 learning." 
 
 With this, the Archbishop passed his arm affec- 
 tionately through his brother's, and said, " Beshrew 
 me, Montagu, thou lookest worn and weary. Surely 
 thou lackest food, and supper shall be hastened. 
 Even I, who have but slender appetite, grow hun- 
 gered in these cool gloaming hours." 
 
 " Dismiss my comrade, George I would speak 
 to thee," whispered Montagu. 
 
 " Thou knowest not Latin ?" said the Arch- 
 bishop, turning with a compassionate eye to Ne- 
 vile, whose own eye was amorously fixed on the 
 delicate confectionaries " never too late to learn. 
 Hold, here is a grammar of the verbs, that, with 
 mine own hand, I have drawn up for youth. Study 
 thine amo and thy moneo, while I confer on Church 
 matters with giddy Montagu. I shall expect, ere 
 we sup, that thou wilt have mastered the first 
 tenses." 
 
 But " 
 
 " Oh, nay, nay ; but me no buts. Thou art 
 too tough, I fear me, for flagellation, a won- 
 drous improver of tender youth" and the pre- 
 late forced his grammar into the reluctant hands 
 of Marmaduke, and sauntered down one of the 
 solitary alleys with his brother. 
 
 Long and earnest was their conference, and at 
 one time keen were their disputes.
 
 68 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 The Archbishop had very little of the energy of 
 Montagu or the impetuosity of Warwick, but he 
 had far more of what we now call mind, as distinct 
 from talent, than either ; that is, he had not their 
 capacities for action, but he had a judgment and 
 sagacity that made him considered a wise and 
 sound adviser : this he owed principally to the 
 churchman's love of ease, and to his freedom from 
 the wear and tear of the passions which gnawed 
 the great minister and the aspiring courtier; 
 his natural intellect was also fostered by much 
 learning. George Nevile had been reared, by 
 an Italian ecclesiastic, in all the subtle diplo- 
 macy of the Church ; and his ambition, despising 
 lay objects, (though he consented to hold the office 
 of chancellor,) was concentrated in that kingdom 
 over kings, which had animated the august domi- 
 nators of religious Rome. Though, as we have 
 said, still in that age when the affections are 
 usually vivid,* George Nevile loved no human 
 creature not even his brothers not even King 
 Edward, who, with all his vices, possessed so emi- 
 nently the secret that wins men's hearts. His early 
 and entire absorption in the great religious com- 
 munity, which stood apart from the laymen in 
 order to control them, alienated him from his 
 
 * He was consecrated Bishop of Exeter at the age of twenty, 
 at twenty-six he became Archbishop of York, and was under 
 thirty at the time referred to in the text.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 69 
 
 kind ; and his superior instruction only served to 
 feed him with a calm and icy contempt for all, that 
 Prejudice, as he termed it, held dear and precious. 
 He despised the knight's wayward honour the 
 burgher's crafty honesty. For him no such thing 
 as principle existed; and conscience itself lay dead 
 in the folds of a fancied exemption from all respon- 
 sibility to the dull herd, that were but as wool and 
 meat to the Churchman-Shepherd. But withal, if 
 somewhat pedantic, he had in his manner a suavity 
 and elegance and polish, which suited well his high 
 station and gave persuasion to his counsels. In all 
 externals, he was as little like a priest as the high- 
 bom prelates of that day usually were. In dress, 
 he rivalled the fopperies of the Plantagenet bro- 
 thers. In the chase, he was more ardent than 
 Warwick had been in his earlier youth ; and a dry 
 sarcastic humour, sometimes elevated into wit, 
 gave liveliness to his sagacious converse. 
 
 Montagu desired that the Archbishop and him- 
 self should demand solemn audience of Edward, 
 and gravely remonstrate with the King on the im- 
 propriety of receiving the brother of a rival suitor, 
 while Warwick was negotiating the marriage of 
 Margaret with a Prince of France. 
 
 "Nay," said the Archbishop, with a bland 
 smile, that fretted Montagu to the quick " surely, 
 even a baron, a knight, a franklin a poor priest 
 like myself, would rise against the man who dic- 
 
 VOL. II.
 
 70 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 tated to his hospitality. Is a king less irritable 
 than baron, knight, franklin, and priest ? or rather, 
 being, as it were, per lege, lord of all, hath he 
 not irritability enow for all four? Ay tut and 
 tush as thou wilt, John but thy sense must do 
 justice to my counsel at the last. I know Edward 
 well ; he hath something of mine own idlesse and 
 ease of temper, but with more of the dozing lion 
 than priests, who have only, look you, the mildness 
 of the dove. Prick up his higher spirit, not by 
 sharp remonstrance, but by seeming trust. Ob- 
 serve to him, with thy gay, careless laugh which, 
 methinks, thou hast somewhat lost of late that 
 with any other prince Warwick might suspect 
 some snare some humiliating overthrow of his 
 embassage but that all men know how steadfast in 
 faith and honour is Edward IV." 
 
 "Truly," said Montagu, with a forced smile, 
 "you understand mankind; but yet, bethink you 
 suppose this fail, and Warwick return to England 
 to hear that he hath been cajoled and fooled ; that 
 the Margaret he hath crossed the seas to affiance 
 to the brother of Louis is betrothed to Charolois 
 bethink you, I say, what manner of heart beats 
 under our brother's mail." 
 
 "Impiger, iracundusl" said the Archbishop j "a 
 very Achilles, to whom our English Agamemnon, if 
 he cross him, is a baby. All this is sad truth ; our 
 parents spoilt him in his childhood, and glory in his
 
 '- 
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 71 
 
 youth, and wealth, power, success, in his manhood. 
 Ay ! if Warwick be chafed, it will be as the stir of 
 the sea-serpent, which, according to the Icelanders, 
 moves a world. Still the best way to prevent the 
 danger is to enlist the honour of the King in his 
 behalf to shew that our eyes are open, but that 
 we disdain to doubt and are frank to confide. 
 Meanwhile send messages and warnings privately 
 to Warwick." 
 
 These reasonings finally prevailed with Mon- 
 tagu, and the brothers returned with one mind to 
 the house. Here, as after their ablutions, they sate 
 down to the evening meal, the Archbishop re- 
 membered poor Marmaduke, and despatched to 
 him one of his thirty household chaplains. Mar- 
 maduke was found fast asleep over the second tense 
 of the verb amo.
 
 72 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 VI. 
 
 THE ARRIVAL OF THE COUNT BE LA ROCHE, AND THE 
 VARIOUS EXCITEMENT PRODUCED ON MANY PERSONAGES 
 BY THAT EVENT. 
 
 THE prudence of the Archbishop's counsel was so 
 far made manifest, that on the next day Montagu 
 found all remonstrance would have been too late. 
 The Count de la Roche had already landed, and 
 was on his way to London. The citizens, led by 
 Rivers partially to suspect the object of the visit, 
 were delighted not only by the prospect of a 
 brilliant pageant, but by the promise such a visit 
 conveyed of a continued peace with their com- 
 mercial ally ; and the preparations made by the 
 wealthy merchants increased the bitterness and 
 discontent of Montagu. At length, at the head 
 of a gallant and princely retinue, the Count dc la 
 Roche entered London. Though Hastings made 
 no secret of his distaste to the Count de la 
 Roche's visit, it became his office as Lord Cham-
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 73 
 
 berlain to meet the Count at Blackwall, and escort 
 him and his train, in gilded barges, to the Palace. 
 
 In the great hall of the Tower, in which the 
 story of Antiochus was painted, by the great artists 
 employed under Henry the Third, and on the ele- 
 vation of the dais, behind which, across Gothic 
 columns, stretched draperies of cloth of gold, was 
 placed Edward's chair of state. Around him were 
 grouped the Dukes of Clarence and Gloucester, 
 the Lords Worcester, Montagu, Rivers, D'Eyn- 
 court, St. John, Raoul de Fulke, and others. But 
 at the threshold of the chamber stood Anthony 
 Woodville, the knightly challenger, his knee bound 
 by the lady e-badge of the S. S. and his fine person 
 clad in white-flowered velvet of Genoa, adorned 
 with pearls. Stepping forward, as the Count ap- 
 peared, the gallant Englishman bent his knee 
 half-way to the ground, and raising the Count's 
 hand to his lips, said in French " Deign, noble 
 sir, to accept the gratitude of one who were not 
 worthy of encounter from so peerless a hand, save 
 by the favour of the ladies of England, and your 
 own courtesy, which ennobles him whom it stoops 
 to." So saying, he led the Count towards the 
 King. 
 
 De la Roche, an experienced and profound 
 courtier, and justly deserving Hall's praise as a 
 man of " great witte, courage, valiantness, and 
 liberalitie," did not affect to conceal the admira- 
 
 VOL, ii, E
 
 74 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 tion which the remarkable presence of Edward 
 never failed to excite ; lifting his hand to his eyes, 
 as if to shade them from a sudden blaze of light, 
 he would have fallen on both knees, but Edward 
 with quick condescension raised him, and, rising 
 himself, said gaily 
 
 " Nay, Count de la Roche, brave and puissant 
 Chevalier, who hath crossed the seas in honour 
 of knighthood and the ladies we would, indeed, 
 that our roiaulme boasted a lord like thee, from 
 whom we might ask such homage. But since thou 
 art not our subject, it consoles at least that thou 
 art our guest. By our halidame, Lord Scales, 
 thou must look well to thy lance and thy steed's 
 girths, for never, I trow, hast thou met a champion 
 of goodlier strength and knightlier metal." 
 
 " My lord King," answered the Count, " I 
 fear me, indeed, that a knight like the Sieur An- 
 thony, who fights under the eyes of such a King, 
 will prove invincible. Did kings enter the lists 
 with kings, where, through broad Christendom, 
 find a compeer for your Highness ?" 
 
 " Your brother, Sir Count, if fame lies not," re- 
 turned Edward, slightly laughing, and lightly 
 touching the bastard's shoulder, " were a fearful 
 lance to encounter, even though Charlemagne him- 
 self were to revive, with his twelve paladins at his 
 back. Tell us, Sir Count," added the King, draw- 
 ing himself up " tell us, for we soldiers are curious
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 75 
 
 in such matters, hath not the Count of Charolois 
 the advantage of all here in sinews and stature ?" 
 
 " Sire," returned De la Roche, " my princely 
 brother is indeed mighty with the brand and 
 battle-axe, but your Grace is taller by half the 
 head, and, peradventure, of even a more stalwart 
 build, but that mere 'strength in your Highness 
 is not that gift of God which strikes the beholder 
 most." 
 
 Edward smiled good-humouredly at a compli- 
 ment, the truth of which was too obvious to move 
 much vanity, and said, with a royal and knightly 
 grace " Our House of York hath been taught, 
 Sir Count, to estimate men's beauty by men's 
 deeds, and therefore the Count of Charolois hath 
 long been known to us who, alas, have seen him 
 not ! as the fairest gentleman of Europe. My 
 Lord Scales, we must here publicly crave your 
 pardon. Our brother-in-law, Sir Count, would 
 fain have claimed his right to hold you his guest, 
 and have graced himself by exclusive service 
 to your person. We have taken from him his 
 lawful office, for we kings are jealous, and would 
 not have our subjects more honoured than our- 
 selves." Edward turned round to his courtiers as 
 he spoke, and saw that his last words had called 
 a haughty and angry look to the watchful counte- 
 nance of Montagu. "Lord Hastings," he conti- 
 nued, " to your keeping, as our representative, we 
 
 E2
 
 76 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 entrust this gentleman. He must need refresh- 
 ment, ere we present him to our Queen." 
 
 The Count bowed to the ground, and reverently 
 withdrew from the royal presence, accompanied by 
 Hastings. Edward then, singling Anthony Wood- 
 ville and Lord Rivers from the group, broke up 
 the audience, and, followed by those two noble- 
 men, quitted the hall. 
 
 Montagu, whose countenance had recovered the 
 dignified and high-born calm habitual to it, turned 
 to the Duke of Clarence, and observed, indif- 
 ferently " The Count de la Roche hath a goodly 
 mien, and a fair tongue." 
 
 "Pest on these Burgundians !" answered Cla- 
 rence, in an under-tone, and drawing Montagu 
 aside "I would wager my best greyhound to a 
 scullion's cur, that our English knights will lower 
 their burgonots." 
 
 " Nay, sir, an idle holiday show. What mat- 
 ters whose lance breaks, or whose destrier stum- 
 bles?' 
 
 " Will you not, yourself, cousin Montagu you, 
 who are so peerless in the joust take part in 
 the fray ?" 
 
 " I, your Highness I, the brother of the Earl 
 of Warwick, whom this pageant hath been de- 
 vised by the Woodvilles to mortify and disparage 
 in his solemn embassy to Burgundy's mightiest 
 foe!- 1!'
 
 THE LA.ST OF THE BARONS. 77 
 
 " Sooth to say," said the young prince, much 
 embarrassed, " it grieves me sorely to hear thee 
 speak as if Warwick would be angered at this pas- 
 time. For look you, Montagu I, thinking only 
 of my hate to Burgundy, and my zeal for our 
 English honour, have consented, as high constable, 
 and despite my grudge to the Woodvilles, to bear 
 the bassinet of our own champion and " 
 
 " Saints in heaven !" exclaimed Montagu, with 
 a burst of his fierce brother's temper, which he 
 immediately checked, and changed into a tone 
 that concealed, beneath the most outward re- 
 spect, the most latent irony, " I crave your pardon, 
 humbly, for my vehemence, Prince of Clarence. 
 I suddenly remember me, that humility is the 
 proper virtue of knighthood. Your Grace does 
 indeed set a notable example of that virtue to the 
 peers of England, and my poor brother's infirmity 
 of pride will stand rebuked for aye, when he hears 
 that George Plantagenet bore the bassinet of 
 Anthony Woodville." 
 
 " But it is for the honour of the ladies," said 
 Clarence, falteringly, " in honour of the fairest 
 maid of all the Flower of English beauty the 
 Lady Isabel that I " 
 
 "Your Highness will pardon me," interrupted 
 Montagu," but I do trust to your esteem for our 
 poor and insulted House of Nevile, so far as to 
 be assured that the name of my niece, Isabel, will
 
 78 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 not be submitted to the ribald comments of a base- 
 born Burgundian." 
 
 " Then I will break no lance in the lists !" 
 
 "As it likes you,Prince," replied Montagu, shortly, 
 and, with a low bow, he quitted the chamber, and 
 was striding to the outer gate of the Tower, when a 
 sweet, clear voice behind him called him by his 
 name. He turned abruptly, to meet the dark eye 
 and all-subduing smile of the boy-Duke of Glou- 
 cester. 
 
 " A word with you, Montagu noblest and most 
 prized, with your princely brothers, of the cham- 
 pions of our House, I read your generous indigna- 
 tion with our poor Clarence. Ay, sir ! ay ! it 
 was a weakness in him, that moved even me. But 
 you have not now to learn that his nature, how 
 excellent soever, is somewhat of the unsteady. 
 His judgment alone lacks weight and substance, 
 ever persuaded against his better reason by those 
 who approach his infirmer side. But if it be true 
 that our cousin Warwick intends for him the hand 
 of the peerless Isabel, wiser heads will guide his 
 course." 
 
 " My brother," said Montagu, greatly softened, 
 " is much beholden to your Highness for a steady 
 countenance and friendship, for which I also, be- 
 lieve me and the families of Beauchamp, Mon- 
 tagu, and Nevile are duly grateful. But to speak 
 plainly (which your Grace's youthful candour, so
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 79 
 
 all-acknowledged, will permit), the kinsmen of the 
 Queen do now so aspire to rule this land, to marry 
 or forbid to marry, not only our own children, but 
 your illustrious father's, that I foresee, in this visit 
 of the Bastard Anthony, the most signal disgrace to 
 Warwick that ever king passed upon ambassador, 
 or even gentleman. And this moves me more ! 
 yea, I vow to God, it moves me more from the 
 thought of danger to your royal House, than from 
 the grief of slight to mine; for Warwick but 
 you know him." 
 
 " Montagu, you must soothe and calm your 
 brother if chafed. I impose that task on your love 
 for us. Alack, would that Edward listened more 
 to me and less to the Queen's kith : These Wood- 
 villes ! and yet they may live to move not wrath 
 but pity. If aught snapped the thread of Edward's 
 life, (Holy Paul forbid !) what would chance to 
 Elizabeth her brothers her children ?" 
 
 " Her children would mount the throne that our 
 right hands built," said Montagu, sullenly. 
 
 "Ah! think you so? you rejoice me! I had 
 feared that the Barons might, that the Commons 
 would, that the Church must, pronounce the un- 
 happy truth, that but you look amazed, my lord \ 
 Alas, my boyish years are too garrulous !" 
 
 " I catch not your Highness's meaning." 
 
 " Pooh, pooh ! By St. Paul, your seeming dul- 
 ness proves your loyalty ; but, with me, the King's
 
 80 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 brother, frankness were safe. Thou knowcst well 
 that the King was betrothed before to the lady 
 Eleanor Talbot; that such betrothment, not set 
 aside by the Pope, renders his marriage with Eli- 
 zabeth against law ; that his children may (would 
 to Heaven it were not so !) be set aside as bastards, 
 when Edward's life no longer shields them from 
 the sharp eyes of men." 
 
 "Ah !" said Montagu, thoughtfully ; " and in that 
 case, George of Clarence would wear the crown, 
 and his children reign in England." 
 
 " Our Lord forfend," said Richard, " that I should 
 say that Warwick thought of this when he deemed 
 George worthy of the hand of Isabel. Nay, it 
 could not be so ; for, however clear the claim, 
 strong and powerful would be those who would resist 
 it, and Clarence is not, as you will see, the man who 
 can wrestle boldly even for a throne. Moreover, 
 he is too addicted to wine and pleasure to promise 
 to outlive the King." 
 
 Montagu fixed his penetrating eyes on Richard, 
 but dropped them, abashed, before that steady, 
 deep, unrevealing gaze, which seemed to pierce into 
 other hearts, and shew nothing of the heart within. 
 
 "Happy Clarence!" resumed the Prince with 
 a heavy sigh, and after a brief pause " a Nevile's 
 husband and a Warwick's son! what can the 
 saints do more for men ? You must excuse his 
 errors all our errors to your brother. You may
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 81 
 
 not know, peradventurc, sweet Montagu, how deep 
 an interest I have in maintaining all amity between 
 Lord Warwick and the King. For ine thinks there 
 is one face fairer than fair Isabel's, and one man 
 more to be envied than even Clarence. Fairest 
 face to me in the wide world is the Lady Anne's 
 happiest man, between the cradle and the grave, 
 is he whom the Lady Anne shall call her lord ! 
 and if I oh, look you, Montagu, let there be no 
 breach between Warwick and the King ! Fare-you- 
 well, dear lord and cousin I go to Baynard's 
 Castle till these feasts are over." 
 
 " Does not your Grace," said Montagu, reco- 
 vering from the surprise into which one part of 
 Gloucester's address had thrown him " does not 
 your Grace so skilled in lance and horsemanship 
 preside at the lists ?" 
 
 " Montagu, I love your brother well enough to 
 displease my King. He shall not say, at least, 
 that Richard Plantagenet, in his absence, forgot the 
 reverence due to loyalty and merit. Tell him that ; 
 and if I seem (unlike Clarence) to forbear to con- 
 front the Queen and her kindred, it is because 
 youth should make no enemies not the less for 
 that, should princes forget no friends." 
 
 Richard said this with a tone of deep feeling, 
 and, folding his arms within his furred surcoat, 
 walked slowly on to a small postern admitting to 
 the river ; but there, pausing by a buttress which 
 
 E3
 
 82 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 concealed him till Montagu had left the yard, in- 
 stead of descending to his barge, he turned back 
 into the royal garden. Here several of the Court, 
 of both sexes, were assembled, conferring on the 
 event of the day. Richard halted at a distance, and 
 contemplated their gay dresses and animated coun- 
 tenances with something between melancholy and 
 scorn upon his young brow. One of the most re- 
 markable social characteristics of the Middle Ages 
 is the prematurity at which the great arrived at man- 
 hood, shared in its passions, and indulged its ambi- 
 tions. Among the numerous instances in ourx>wn 
 and other countries that might be selected from His- 
 tory, few are more striking than that of this Duke 
 of Gloucester great in camp and in council, at an 
 age when now-a-days a youth is scarcely trusted to 
 the discipline of a college. The whole of his por- 
 tentous career was closed, indeed, before the public 
 life of modern ambition usually commences. Little 
 could those accustomed to see, on our stage, " the 
 elderly ruffian"* our actors represent, imagine that 
 at the opening of Shakspeare's play of * Richard the 
 Third,' the hero was but in his nineteenth year ; but 
 at the still more juvenile age in which he appears in 
 this our record, Richard of Gloucester was older in 
 intellect, and almost in experience, than many a 
 wise man at the date of thirty-three the fatal age 
 when his sun set for ever on the field of Bosworth ! 
 * Sharon Turner.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 83 
 
 The young prince, then, eyed the gaudy, nutter- 
 ing, babbling assemblage before him with mingled 
 melancholy and scorn. Not tha.t he felt, with the 
 acuteness which belongs to modern sentiment, his 
 bodily defects amidst that circle of the stately and 
 the fair, for they were not of a nature to weaken 
 t his arm in war or lessen his persuasive influences 
 in peace. But it was rather that sadness which 
 so often comes over an active and ambitious intel- 
 lect in early youth, when it pauses to ask, in sorrow 
 and disdain, what its plots and counterplots, its 
 restlessness and strife, are really worth. The 
 scene before him was of Pleasure but in pleasure, 
 neither the youth nor the manhood of Richard III. 
 was ever pleased; though not absolutely of the 
 rigid austerity of Amadis, or our Saxon Edward, 
 he was free from the licentiousness of his times. 
 His passions were too large for frivolous excite- 
 ments. Already the Italian, or, as it is falsely 
 called, the Machiavelian policy, was pervading the 
 intellect of Europe, and the effects of its ruthless, 
 grand, and deliberate state-craft, are visible from 
 the accession of Edward IV. till the close of 
 Elizabeth's reign. With this policy, which recon- 
 ciled itself to crime as a necessity of wisdom, was 
 often blended a refinement of character which joyed 
 not in vulgar vices. Not skilled alone in those 
 knightly accomplishments which induced Caxton, 
 with propriety, to dedicate to Richard " The Book
 
 84 THE LAST OF THE BAUONS. 
 
 of the Order of Chivalry," the Duke of Gloucebtcr's 
 more peaceful amusements were borrowed from 
 severer graces than those which presided over the 
 tastes of his royal brothers. He loved, even to 
 passion, the Arts, Music especially of the more 
 Doric and warlike kind Limning, and Architec- 
 ture ; he was a reader of Books^ as of Men 
 the books that become princes and hence that 
 superior knowledge of the principles of law and of 
 commerce, which his brief reign evinced. More 
 like an Italian in all things than the careless 
 Norman or the simple Saxon, Machiavel might 
 have made of his character a companion, though 
 a contrast, to that of Castruccio Castrucani. 
 
 The crowd murmured and rustled at the dis- 
 tance, and still, with folded arms, Richard gazed 
 aloof, when a lady, entering the garden from the 
 palace, passed by him so hastily, that she brushed 
 his surcoat,-and, turning round in surprise, made 
 a low reverence, as she exclaimed " Prince 
 Richard ! and alone amidst so many !" 
 
 " Lady," said the Duke, " it was a sudden hope 
 that brought me into this garden, and that was the 
 hope to see your fair face shining above the rest." 
 
 "Your Highness jests," returned the lady, 
 though her superb countenance and haughty car- 
 riage evinced no opinion of herself so humble as 
 her words would imply. 
 
 " My Lady of Bonville," said the young Duke,
 
 THE LAST OF T11E BARONS. 85 
 
 laying his hand on her arm ; " mirth is not in my 
 thoughts at this hour." 
 
 "I believe your Highness ; for the Lord Richard 
 Plantagenet is not one of the Woodvilles. The 
 mirth is theirs to-day." 
 
 " Let who will have mirth it is the breath of a 
 moment. Mirth cannot tarnish Glory the mirror 
 in which the gods are glassed." 
 
 " I understand you, my lord," said the proud 
 lady ; and her face, before stern and high, bright- 
 ened into so lovely a change, so soft and winning 
 a smile, that Gloucester no longer marvelled that 
 that smile had rained so large an influence on the 
 fate and heart of his favourite Hastings. The 
 beauty of this noble woman was indeed remark- 
 able in its degree, and peculiar in its character. 
 She bore a stronger likeness in feature to the 
 Archbishop, than to either of her other brothers ; 
 for the prelate had the straight and smooth outline 
 of the Greeks not, like Montagu and Warwick, 
 the lordlier and manlier aquiline of the Norman 
 race and his complexion was feminine in its pale 
 clearness. But though in this resembling the 
 subtlest of the brethren, the fair sister shared with 
 Warwick an expression, if haughty, singularly 
 frank and candid in its imperious majesty; she 
 had the same splendid and steady brilliancy of eye 
 the same quick quiver of the lip, speaking of 
 nervous susceptibility and haste of mood. The
 
 86 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 hateful fashion of that day, which pervaded all 
 ranks, from the highest to the lowest, was the pro- 
 digal use of paints and cosmetics, and all imagin- 
 able artificial adjuncts of a spurious beauty. This 
 extended often even to the men, and the sturdiest 
 warrior deemed it no shame to recur to such arts 
 of the toilette as the vainest wanton in our day 
 would never venture to acknowledge. But the 
 Lady Bonville, proudly confident of her beauty, 
 and of a purity of mind that revolted from the 
 littleness of courting admiration, contrasted forci- 
 bly in this the ladies of the court. Her cheek 
 was of a marble whiteness, though occasionally a 
 rising flush through the clear, rich, transparent 
 skin, shewed that in earlier youth the virgin bloom 
 had not been absent from the surface. There was 
 in her features, when they reposed, somewhat of 
 the trace of suffering, of a struggle, past it may 
 be, but still remembered. But when she spoke, 
 those features lighted up and undulated in such 
 various and kindling life as to dazzle, to bewitch, 
 or to awe the beholder, according as the impulse 
 moulded the expression. Her dress suited her 
 lofty and spotless character. Henry VI. might 
 have contemplated, with holy pleasure, its matronly 
 decorum ; the jewelled gorget ascended to the 
 rounded and dimpled chin ; the arms were bare 
 only at the wrists, where the blue veins were seen 
 through a skin of snow ; the dark purple locks,
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 87 
 
 which her tire-woman boasted, when released, 
 swept the ground, were gathered into a modest and 
 simple braid, surmounted by the beseeming coro- 
 net that proclaimed her rank. The Lady Bon- 
 ville might have stood by the side of Cornelia, 
 the model of a young and highborn Matron, in 
 whose virtue the Honour of Man might securely 
 dwell. 
 
 " I understand you, my lord," she said, with her 
 bright, thankful smile ; " and as Lord Warwick's 
 sister, I am grateful." 
 
 "Your love for the great Earl proves you are 
 noble enough to forgive," said Richard, mean- 
 ingly. " Nay, chide me not with that lofty look ; 
 you know that there are no secrets between 
 Hastings and Gloucester." 
 
 " My Lord Duke, the head of a noble house 
 hath the right to dispose of the hands of the 
 daughters ; I know nothing in Lord Warwick to 
 forgive." 
 
 But she turned her head as she spoke, and a 
 tear for a moment trembled in that haughty eye. 
 
 "Lady," said Richard, moved to admiration, 
 " to you let me confide my secret. I would be 
 your nephew. Boy though I be in years, my 
 heart beats loudly as a man's; and that heart 
 beats for Anne." 
 
 " It were a splendid alliance, even for Warwick's 
 daughter !"
 
 88 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 " Think you so. Then stand my friend ; and, 
 being thus my friend, intercede with Warwick, if 
 he angers at the silly holiday of this Woodville 
 pageant." 
 
 " Alas, sir ! you know that Warwick listens to 
 no intercede rs between himself and his passions. 
 But what then ? Grant him wronged, aggrieved, 
 trifled with, what then ? Can he injure the 
 House of York?" 
 
 Richard looked in some surprise at the fair 
 speaker. 
 
 " Can he injure the House of York ? Marry, 
 yes," he replied, bluntly. 
 
 " But for what end ? Whom else should he put 
 upon the throne ?" 
 
 " What if he forgive the Lancastrians ? What 
 if " 
 
 " Utter not the thought, Prince, breathe it not/' 
 exclaimed the Lady Bonville, almost fiercely. " I 
 love and honour my brave brother, despite ^ 
 
 despite ." She paused a moment, blushed, 
 
 and proceeded rapidly, without concluding the 
 sentence, " I love him as a woman of his house 
 must love the hero who forms its proudest boast. 
 But if for any personal grudge, any low ambition, 
 any rash humour, the son of my father, Salisbury, 
 could forget that Margaret of Anjou placed the 
 gory head of that old man upon the gates of York, 
 could by word or deed abet the cause of usurping
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 89 
 
 and bloody Lancaster, I would I would ; Out 
 upon my sex ! I could do nought but weep the 
 glory of Nevile and Monthermer gone for ever." 
 
 Before Richard could reply, the sound of musical 
 instruments, and a procession of heralds and pages 
 proceeding from the palace, announced the ap- 
 proach of Edward. He caught the hand of the 
 Dame of Bonville, lifted it to his lips, and saying, 
 " May fortune one day permit me to face as the 
 Earl's son the Earl's foes," made his graceful re- 
 verence, glided from the garden, gained his barge, 
 and was rowed to the huge pile of Baynard's 
 Castle, lately reconstructed, but in a gloomy and 
 barbaric taste, and in which, at that time, he prin- 
 cipally resided with his mother, the once peerless 
 Rose of Raby. 
 
 The Lady of Bonville paused a moment, and in 
 that pause her countenance recovered its compo- 
 sure. She, then, passed on with a stately step to- 
 wards a group of the ladies of the court, and her 
 eye noted with proud pleasure that the highest 
 names of the English knighthood and nobility, 
 comprising the numerous connexions of her family, 
 formed a sullen circle apart from the rest, be- 
 tokening, by their grave countenances and moody 
 whispers, how sensitively they felt the slight 
 to Lord Warwick's embassy in the visit of the 
 Count de la Roche, and how little they were 
 disposed to cringe to the rising sun of the Wood-
 
 90 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 villes. There, collected into a puissance whose 
 discontent had sufficed to shake a firmer throne, 
 (the young Raoul de Fulke, the idolater of 
 Warwick, the personation in himself of the old 
 Norman seignorie, in their centre,) with folded 
 arms and lowering brows, stood the Earl's kins- 
 men, the Lords Fitzhugh and Fauconberg ; with 
 them, Thomas Lord Stanley, a prudent noble, who 
 rarely sided with a malcontent, and the Lord St. 
 John, and the Heir of the ancient Bergavennies, and 
 many another chief, under whose banner marched 
 an army! Richard of Gloucester had shewn 
 his wit in refusing to mingle in intrigues which 
 provoked the ire of that martial phalanx. As 
 the Lady of Bonville swept by these gentlemen, 
 their murmur of respectful homage, their profound 
 salutation, and unbonneted heads, contrasted 
 forcibly with the slight and grave, if not scornful, 
 obeisance they had just rendered to one of the 
 Queen's sisters, who had passed, a moment before, 
 in the same direction. The lady still moved on, 
 and came suddenly across the path of Hastings, as 
 in his robes of state he issued from the palace. 
 Their eyes met, and both changed colour. 
 
 " So, my Lord Chamberlain," said the dame, 
 sarcastically, " the Count de la Roche is, I hear, 
 consigned to your especial charge." 
 
 "" A charge the Chamberlain cannot regret, and 
 which William Hastings does not covet."
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 91 
 
 " A King had never asked Montagu and War- 
 wick to consider amongst their duties any charge 
 they had deemed dishonouring." 
 
 " Dishonouring, Lady Bonville!" exclaimed Hast- 
 ings, with a bent brow and a flushed cheek, 
 " neither Montagu nor Warwick had, with safety, ap- 
 plied to me the word that has just passed your lips." 
 
 " I crave your pardon," answered Katherine, 
 bitterly. " Mine articles of faith in men's honour 
 are obsolete or heretical. I had deemed it dis- 
 honouring in a noble nature to countenance in- 
 sult to a noble enemy in his absence. I had 
 deemed it dishonouring in a brave soldier, a well- 
 born gentleman, (now from his valiantness, merit, 
 and wisdom, become a puissant and dreaded 
 lord,) to sink into that lackeydom and varletaiUe 
 which falsehood and cringing have stablished in 
 these walls, and baptized under the name of ' cour- 
 tiers.' Better had Katherine de Bonville esteemed 
 Lord Hastings had he rather fallen under a King's 
 displeasure than debased his better self to a Wood- 
 viUe's dastard schemings." 
 
 " Lady, you are cruel and unjust, like all your 
 haughty race. And idle were reply to one who, 
 of all persons, should have judged me better. For 
 the rest, if this mummery humbles Lord Warwick, 
 Gramercy ! there is nothing in my memory that 
 should make my share in it a gall to my conscience ; 
 nor do I owe the Neviles so large a gratitude, 

 
 92 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 that rather than fret the pile of their pride, I 
 should throw down the scaffolding on which my 
 fearless step hath clombe to as fair a height, and 
 one perhaps that may overlook as long a posterity, 
 as the best baron that ever quartered the Raven 
 Eagle and the Dun Bull. But, (resumed Hastings, 
 with a withering sarcasm,) doubtless the Lady de 
 Bonville more admires the happy lord who holds 
 himself, by right of pedigree, superior to all things 
 that make the statesman wise, the scholar learned, 
 and the soldier famous. Way there back, gentles," 
 and Hastings turned to the crowd behind, " Way 
 there for my Lord of Harrington and Bonville !" 
 
 The byestanders smiled at each other as they 
 obeyed; and a heavy, shambling, graceless man, 
 dressed in the most exaggerated fopperies of the 
 day, but with a face which even sickliness, that 
 refines most faces, could not divest of the most 
 vacant dulness, and a mien and gait to which no 
 attire could give dignity, passed through the group, 
 bowing awkwardly to the right and left, and saying 
 in a thick husky voice " You are too good, sirs 
 too good : I must not presume so overmuch on my 
 seignorie. The King would keep me he would 
 indeed, sirs ; um um why, Katherine dame 
 thy stiff gorget makes me ashamed of thee. Thou 
 wouldst not think, Lord Hastings, that Katherine 
 had a white skin a parlous white skin. La, you 
 now fie on these mufflers !"
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 93 
 
 The courtiers sneered; Hastings, with a look 
 of malignant and pitiless triumph, eyed the Lady 
 of Bonville. For a moment the colour went 
 and came across her transparent cheek, but the 
 confusion passed, and returning the insulting gaze 
 of her ancient lover with an eye of unspeakable 
 majesty, she placed her arm upon her lord's, and 
 saying calmly " An English matron cares but to 
 be fair in her husband's eyes" drew him away ; 
 and the words and the manner of the lady were 
 so dignified and simple, that the courtiers hushed 
 their laughter, and for the moment the lord of 
 such a woman ^ was not only envied but re- 
 spected. 
 
 While this scene had passed, the procession, pre- 
 ceding Edward, had filed into the garden in long 
 and stately order. From another entrance, Eliza- 
 beth, the Princess Margaret, and the Duchess of 
 Bedford, with their trains, had already issued, and 
 were now ranged upon a flight of marble steps, 
 backed by a columned alcove, hung with velvets 
 striped into the royal baudekin, while the stairs 
 themselves were covered with leathern carpets, pow- 
 dered with the white rose and the fleur de lis ; 
 either side lined by the bearers of the many ban- 
 ners of Edward, displaying the White Lion of 
 March, the Black Bull of Clare, the Cross of Jeru- 
 salem, the Dragon of Arragon, and the Rising Sun, 
 which he had assumed as his peculiar war-badge
 
 94 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 since the battle of Mortimer's Cross. Again, and 
 louder, came the flourish of music, and a murmur 
 through the crowd, succeeded by deep silence, 
 announced the entrance of the King. He ap- 
 peared, leading by the hand the Count de la Roche, 
 and followed by the Lords Scales, Rivers, Dorset, 
 and the Duke of Clarence. All eyes were bent 
 upon the Count, and though seen to disadvantage 
 by the side of the comeliest and stateliest and 
 most gorgeously attired Prince in Christendom, his 
 high forehead, bright sagacious eye, and powerful 
 frame, did not disappoint the expectations founded 
 upon the fame of one equally subtle in council 
 and redoubled in war. 
 
 The royal host and the princely guest made 
 their way, where Elizabeth, blazing in jewels and 
 cloth of gold, shone royally, begirt by the ladies 
 of her brilliant court. At her right hand stood 
 her mother, at her left, the Princess Margaret. 
 
 " I present to you, my Elizabeth," said Edward, 
 " a princely gentleman, to whom we nevertheless 
 wish all ill-fortune, for we cannot desire that he 
 may subdue our knights, and we would fain hope 
 that he may be conquered by our ladies." 
 
 " The last hope is already fulfilled," said the 
 Count, gallantly, as on his knee he kissed the fair 
 hand extended to him. Then rising, and gazing 
 full and even boldly upon the young Princess Mar- 
 garet, he added " I have seen too often the pic-
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 95 
 
 ture of the Lady Margaret not to be aware that I 
 stand in that illustrious presence." 
 
 " Her picture ! Sir Count," said the Queen ; 
 " we knew not that it had been even limned." 
 
 " Pardon me, it was done by stealth." 
 
 " And where have you seen it ?" 
 
 " Worn at the heart of my brother the Count 
 of Charolois!" answered De la Roche, in a whispered 
 tone. 
 
 Margaret blushed with evident pride and de- 
 light ; and the wily envoy, leaving the impression 
 his words had made to take their due effect, ad- 
 dressed himself, with all the gay vivacity he pos- 
 sessed, to the fair Queen and her haughty mother. 
 
 After a brief time spent in this complimentary 
 converse, the Count then adjourned to inspect the 
 Menagerie, of which the King was very proud. 
 Edward, offering his hand to his Queen, led the 
 way, and the Duchess of Bedford, directing the 
 Count to Margaret by a shrewd and silent glance 
 of her eye, so far smothered her dislike to Cla- 
 rence as to ask his Highness to attend herself. 
 
 " Ah ! lady," whispered the Count, as the pro- 
 cession moved along, "what thrones would not 
 Charolois resign for the hand that his unworthy 
 envoy is allowed to touch !" 
 
 " Sir," said Margaret, demurely looking down, 
 " the Count of Charolois is a lord, who, if report be 
 true, makes war his only mistress."
 
 96 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 " Because the only living mistress his great heart 
 could serve is denied to his love I Ah, poor lord 
 arid brother, what new reasons for eternal war 
 to Burgundy, when France, not only his foe, be- 
 comes his rival !" 
 
 Margaret sighed, and the Count continued, till 
 by degrees he warmed the royal maiden from her 
 reserve ; and his eye grew brighter, and a trium- 
 phant smile played about his lips, when, after the 
 visit to the Menagerie, the procession re-entered 
 the palace, and the Lord Hastings conducted the 
 Count to the bath prepared for him, previous to 
 the crowning banquet of the night. And far more 
 luxurious and more splendid than might be deemed 
 by those who read but the general histories of that 
 sanguinary time, or the inventories of furniture in 
 the houses even of the great barons, was the accom- 
 modation which Edward afforded to his guest. His 
 apartments and chambers were hung with white 
 silk and linen, the floors covered with richly woven 
 carpets ; the counterpane of his bed was cloth of 
 gold, trimmed with ermine; the cupboard shone 
 with vessels of silver and gold ; and over two baths 
 were pitched tents of white cloth of Rennes, fringed 
 with silver.* 
 
 Agreeably to the manners of the time, Lord 
 Hastings assisted to disrobe the Count; and, the 
 
 * See Madden 's Narrative of the Lord Grauthnse : Archse- 
 ologia, 1830.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BAROXS. 97 
 
 more to bear him company, afterwards undressed 
 himself, and bathed in the one bath, while the 
 Count refreshed his limbs in the other. 
 
 " Pri'thee," said De la Roche, drawing aside the 
 curtain of his tent, and putting forth his head 
 " pri'thee, my Lord Hastings, deign to instruct my 
 ignorance of a Court which I would fain know 
 well, and let me weet, whether the splendour 
 of your king, far exceeding what I was taught 
 to look for, is derived from his revenue, as sove- 
 reign of England, or chief of the House of York ?" 
 
 " Sir," returned Hastings, gravely, putting out 
 his own head " it is Edward's happy fortune to be 
 the wealthiest proprietor in England, except the 
 Earl of Warwick, and thus he is enabled to indulge 
 a state which yet oppresses not his people." 
 
 "Except the Earl of Warwick," repeated the 
 Count, musingly, as the fumes of the odours, with 
 which the bath was filled, rose in a cloud over his 
 long hair " ill would fare that subject, in most 
 lands, who was as wealthy as his king. You have 
 heard that Warwick has met King Louis at Rouen, 
 and that they are inseparable?" 
 
 " It becomes an ambassador to win grace of him 
 he is sent to please." 
 
 " But none win grace of Louis whom Louis does 
 not dupe." 
 
 " You know not Lord Warwick, Sir Count. His 
 
 VOL. IT. F
 
 98 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 mind is so strong and so frank, that it is as hard to 
 deceive him, as it is for him to be deceived." 
 
 " Time will shew," said the Count, pettishly, 
 and he withdrew his head into the tent. 
 
 And now there appeared the attendants, with 
 hippocras, syrups, and comfits, by way of giving 
 appetite for the supper, so that no farther oppor- 
 tunity for private conversation was left to the two 
 lords. While the Count was dressing, the Lord 
 Scales entered with a superb gown, clasped with 
 jewels, and lined with minever, with which Edward 
 had commissioned him to present the Bastard. In 
 this robe, the Lord Scales insisted upon enduing 
 his antagonist with his own hands, and the three 
 knights then repaired to the banquet. At the King's 
 table no male personage out of the royal family sate, 
 except Lord Rivers as Elizabeth's father and the 
 Count De la Roche, placed between Margaret and 
 the Duchess of Bedford. 
 
 At another table, the great peers of the realm 
 feasted under the presidence of Antony Woodville, 
 \vhile, entirely filling one side of the hall, the ladies 
 of the Court held their " mess," (so called,) apart, 
 and " great and mighty was the eating thereof!" 
 
 The banquet ended, the dance begun. The 
 admirable 'featliness' of the Count de la Roche, 
 in the pavon, with the Lady Margaret, was rivalled 
 only by the more majestic grace of Edward and
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 99 
 
 the dainty steps of Anthony Woodville. But the 
 lightest and happiest heart which beat in that 
 revel was one in which no scheme and no ambi- 
 tion but those of love nursed the hope and 
 dreamed the triumph. 
 
 Stung by the coldness, even more than by the 
 disdain of the Lady Bonville, and enraged to find 
 that no taunt of his own, however galling, could 
 ruffle a dignity which was an insult both to me- 
 mory and to self-love, Hastings had exerted more 
 than usual, both at the banquet and in the revel, 
 those general powers of pleasing, which, even in 
 an age when personal qualifications ranked so high, 
 had yet made him no less renowned for successes 
 in gallantry than the beautiful and youthful King. 
 All about this man witnessed to the triumph of 
 mind over the obstacles that beset it; his rise 
 without envy, his safety amidst foes, the happy 
 ease with which he moved through the snares and 
 pits of everlasting stratagem and universal wile ! 
 Him alone the arts of the Woodvilles could not 
 supplant in Edward's confidence and love ; to him 
 alone dark Gloucester bent his haughty soul ; him 
 alone, Warwick, who had rejected his alliance, and 
 knew the private grudge the rejection bequeathed ; 
 him alone, among the * new men,' Warwick 
 always treated with generous respect, as a wise 
 patriot, and a fearless soldier; and in the more 
 frivolous scenes of courtly life, the same mind 
 
 F2
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 raised one no longer in the bloom of youth, with 
 no striking advantages of person, and studiously 
 disdainful of all the fopperies of the time, to an 
 equality with the youngest, the fairest, the gaudiest 
 courtier, in that rivalship, which has pleasure for 
 its object and love for its reward. Many a heart 
 beat quicker as the graceful courtier, with that 
 careless wit which veiled his profound mournful- 
 ness of character, or with that delicate flattery 
 which his very contempt for human nature had 
 taught him, moved from dame to donzell ; till 
 at length, in the sight and hearing of the Lady 
 Bonville, as she sate, seemingly heedless of his 
 revenge, amidst a group of matrons elder than 
 herself, a murmur of admiration made him turn 
 quickly, and his eye following the gaze of the 
 bystanders, rested upon the sweet, animated face 
 of Sybill, flushed into rich bloom at the notice it 
 excited. Then as he approached the^ maiden, his 
 quick glance darting to the woman he had first 
 loved, told him that he had at last discovered the 
 secret how to wound. An involuntary compres- 
 sion of Katherine's proud lips, a hasty rise and 
 fall of the stately neck, a restless, indescribable 
 flutter, as it were, of the whole frame, told the ex- 
 perienced woman-reader of the signs of jealousy 
 and fear. And he passed at once to the young 
 maiden's side. Alas ! what wonder that Sybill 
 that night surrendered her heart to the happiest
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 101 
 
 dreams ; and finding herself on the floors of a 
 Court intoxicated by its perfumed air, hearing 
 on all sides the murmured eulogies which approved 
 and justified the seeming preference of the power- 
 ful noble, what wonder that she thought the 
 humble maiden, with her dower of radiant youth 
 and exquisite beauty, and the fresh and countless 
 treasures of virgin love, might be no unworthy male 
 of the " new lord." 
 
 It was morning* before the revel ended ; and, 
 when dismissed by the Duchess of Bedford, Sybill 
 was left to herself, not even amidst her happy 
 visions did the daughter forget her office. She 
 stole into her father's chamber. He, too, was 
 astir and up at work at the untiring furnace, the 
 damps on his brow, but all hope's vigour at his 
 heart. So while Pleasure feasts, and Youth re- 
 vels, and Love deludes itself, and Ambition chases 
 its shadows (chased itself by Death) so works 
 the world-changing and world-despised SCIENCE, 
 the life within life, for all living, and to all dead ! 
 
 * The hours of our ancestors, on great occasion*, were not 
 always more seasonable than our own. Froissart speaks of 
 Court Balls, in the reign of Richard II., kept up till day.
 
 102 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 VII. 
 
 THE RENOWNED COMBAT BETWEEN SIR ANTHONY WOOD- 
 VILLE AND THE BASTARD OF BURGUNDY. 
 
 AND now the day came for the memorable joust 
 between the Queen's brother and the Count de la 
 Roche. By a chapter solemnly convoked at St. 
 Paul's, the preliminaries were settled ; upon the 
 very timber used in decking the lists, King Edward 
 expended half the yearly revenue derived from 
 all the forests of his Duchy of York. In the wide 
 space of Smithfield, destined at a later day to 
 blaze with the fires of intolerant bigotry, crowded 
 London's holiday population ; and yet, though 
 all the form and parade of chivalry were there 
 though, in the open balconies, never presided 
 a braver king or a comelier queen though 
 never a more accomplished chevalier than Sir 
 Anthony Lord of Scales, nor a more redoubted 
 knight than the brother of Charles the Bold, met 
 lance to lance, it was obvious to the elder and 
 more observant spectators, that the true spirit of 
 the lists was already fast wearing out from the
 
 THE "LAST OF THE BARONS. 103 
 
 influences of the age ; that the gentleman was 
 succeeding to the knight, that a more silken, 
 and scheming race had become the heirs of the 
 iron men, who, under Edward III., had realized 
 the fabled Paladins of Charlemagne and Arthur. 
 But the actors were less changed than the spec- 
 tators, the Well-born than the People. Instead of 
 that hearty sympathy in the contest, that awful 
 respect for the champions, that eager anxiety for 
 the honour of the national lance, which, a century 
 or more ago, would have moved the throng as one 
 breast, the comments of the bystanders evinced 
 rather the cynicism of ridicule, the feeling that 
 the contest was unreal, and that chivalry was out 
 of place in the practical temper of the times. On 
 the great chess-board, the pawns were now so mar- 
 shalled, that the knights' moves were no longer 
 able to scour the board and hold in check both 
 castle and king. 
 
 " Gramercy !" said Master Stokton, who sate in 
 high state as Sheriff,* "this is a sad waste of moneys ; 
 and where, after all, is the glory in two tall fellows, 
 walled a yard thick in armour, poking at each 
 other with poles of painted wood ?" 
 
 " Give me a good bull-bait !" said a sturdy 
 butcher, in the crowd below " that's more English, 
 I take it, than these fooleries." 
 
 Amongst the ring, the bold 'prentices of London, 
 * Fabyan.
 
 104 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 up and away betimes, had pushed their path into a 
 foremost place, much to the discontent of the 
 gentry, and with their flat caps, long hair, thick 
 bludgeons, loud exclamations, and turbulent de- 
 e a nour, greatly scandalized the formal heralds. 
 That, too, was a sign of the times. Nor less did it 
 shew the growth of commerce, that, on seats very 
 little below the regal balconies, and far more con- 
 spicuous than the places of earls and barons, sate 
 in state the Mayor (that mayor a grocer*) and Al- 
 dermen of the city. 
 
 A murmur, rising gradually into a general shout, 
 evinced the admiration into which the spectators 
 were surprised, when Anthony Woodville Lord 
 Scales his head bare appeared at the entrance 
 of the lists so bold and so fair was his counte- 
 nance, so radiant his armour, and so richly capa- 
 risoned his grey steed, in the gorgeous housings 
 that almost swept the ground; and around him 
 grouped such an attendance of knights and peers 
 as seldom graced the train of any subject, with the 
 Duke of Clarence at his right hand, bearing his 
 bassinet. 
 
 But Anthony's pages, supporting his banner, 
 shared at least the popular admiration with their 
 gallant lord : they were, according to the old 
 custom, which probably fell into disuse under the 
 Tudors, disguised in imitation of the heraldic beasts 
 * Sir John Yonge. Fabyan.
 
 THE LAST OF TIIE BARONS. 105 
 
 that typified his armorial cognizance ;* and horrible 
 and laidley looked they in the guise of griffins, with 
 artful scales of thin steel painted green, red 
 forked tongues, and griping the banner in one huge 
 claw, while, much to the marvel of the bystanders, 
 they contrived to walk very statelily on the other. 
 " Oh, the brave monsters !" exclaimed the butcher, 
 " Cogs bones, this beats all the rest !" 
 
 But when the trumpets of the heralds had ceased, 
 when the words " Laissez aller /" were pronounced, 
 when the lances were set and the charge began, 
 this momentary admiration was converted into a 
 cry of derision, by the sudden restiveness of the 
 Burgundian's horse. This animal, of the pure race 
 of Flanders, of a bulk approaching to clumsiness, 
 of a rich bay, where, indeed, amidst the barding 
 and the housings, its colour could be discerned, had 
 borne the valiant Bastard through many a sanguine 
 field, and in the last had received a wound which 
 had greatly impaired its sight. And now, whether 
 scared by the shouting, or terrified by its obscure 
 vision, and the recollection of its wound when last 
 bestrode by its lord, it halted midway, reared on 
 end, and, fairly turning round, despite spur and bit, 
 carried back the Bastard, swearing strange oaths, 
 that grumbled hoarsely through his vizor, to the 
 very place whence he had started. 
 
 The uncourteous mob yelled and shouted and 
 Hence the origin of Supporters ! 
 F3
 
 106 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 laughed, and wholly disregarding the lifted wands, 
 and drowning the solemn rebukes, of the heralds, 
 they heaped upon the furious Burgundian all the 
 expressions of ridicule in which the wit of Cock- 
 aigne is so immeraorially rich. But the courteous 
 Anthony of England, seeing the strange and invo- 
 luntary flight of his redoubted foe, incontinently 
 reined-in, lowered his lance, and made his horse, 
 without turning round, back to the end of the lists 
 in a series of graceful gambadas and caracols. 
 Again the signal was given, and this time the gal- 
 lant bay did not fail his rider ; ashamed, doubtless, 
 of its late misdemeanor, arching its head till it 
 almost touched the breast, laying its ears level on 
 the neck, and with a snort of anger and disdain, 
 the steed of Flanders rushed to the encounter. 
 The Bastard's lance shivered fairly against the small 
 shield of the Englishman, but the Woodville's 
 weapon, more deftly aimed, struck full on the 
 Count's bassinet, and at the same time the pike 
 projecting from the grey charger's chaffron pierced 
 the nostrils of the unhappy bay, whom rage and 
 shame had blinded more than ever. The noble 
 animal, stung by the unexpected pain, and bitted 
 sharply by the rider, whose seat was sorely shaken 
 by the stroke on his helmet, reared again, stood an 
 instant perfectly erect, and then fell backwards, 
 rolling over and over the illustrious burthen it 
 had borne. Then the debonnair Sir Anthony of
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 107 
 
 England, casting down his lance, drew his sword, 
 and dexterously caused his destrier to curvet in a 
 close circle round the fallen Bastard, courteously 
 shaking at him the brandished weapon, but without 
 attempt to strike. 
 
 " Ho, marshal !" cried King Edward, " assist to 
 his legs the brave Count." 
 
 The marshal hastened to obey. " Ventrebleu !" 
 quoth the Bastard, when extricated from the weight 
 of his steed, "I cannot hold by the clouds, but 
 though my horse failed me, surely I will not fail 
 my companions" and as he spoke, he placed 
 himself in so gallant and superb a posture, that he 
 silenced the inhospitable yell which had rejoiced 
 in the foreigner's discomfiture. Then, observing 
 that the gentle Anthony had dismounted, and was 
 leaning gracefully against his destrier, the Burgun- 
 dian called forth 
 
 " Sir Knight, thou hast conquered the steed, 
 not the rider. We are now foot to foot. The 
 pole-axe, or the sword which ? Speak !" 
 
 " I pray thee, noble sieur," quoth the Woodville, 
 mildly, " to let the strife close for this day, and 
 when rest hath " 
 
 " Talk of rest to striplings I demand my 
 rights !" 
 
 "Heaven forefend," said Anthony Woodville, 
 lifting his hand on high, "that I, favoured so 
 highly by the fair dames of England, should
 
 108 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 demand repose on their behalf. But bear wit- 
 ness " he said, (with the generosity of the last 
 true chevalier of his age, and lifting his vizor, so 
 as to be heard by the King, and even through the 
 foremost ranks, of the crowd) "bear witness, 
 that in this encounter, my cause hath befriended 
 me, not mine arm. The Count de la Roche 
 speaketh truly ; and his steed alone be blamed 
 for his mischance." 
 
 "It is but a blind beast!" muttered the Bur- 
 gundian. 
 
 " And," added Anthony, bowing towards the tiers 
 rich with the beauty of the court " and the Count 
 himself assureth me that the blaze of yonder eyes 
 blinded his goodly steed." Having delivered him- 
 self of this gallant conceit, so much in accordance 
 with the taste of the day, the Englishman, ap- 
 proaching the King's balcony, craved permission to 
 finish the encounter with the axe or brand. 
 
 " The former, rather, please you, my liege ; 
 for the warriors of Burgundy have ever been 
 deemed unconquered in that martial weapon." 
 
 Edward, whose brave blood was up and warm 
 at the clash of steel, bowed his gracious assent, 
 and two pole-axes were brought into the ring. 
 
 The crowd now evinced a more earnest and 
 respectful attention than they had hitherto shewn, 
 for the pole-axe, in such stalwart hands, was no 
 child's toy. " Hum," quoth Master Stokton,
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 109 
 
 "there may be some merriment now not like 
 those silly poles ! Your axe lops off a limb mighty 
 cleanly." 
 
 The knights themselves seemed aware of the 
 greater gravity of the present encounter. Each 
 looked well to the bracing of his vizor ; and poising 
 their weapons with method and care, they stood 
 apart some moments, eyeing each other steadfastly, 
 as adroit fencers with the small sword do in our 
 schools at this day. 
 
 At length, the Burgundian, darting forward, 
 launched a mighty stroke at the Lord Scales, 
 which, though rapidly parried, broke down the 
 guard, and descended with such weight on the 
 shoulder, that but for the thrice-proven steel of 
 Milan, the benevolent expectation of Master 
 Stokton had been happily fulfilled. Even as it 
 was, the Lord Scales uttered a slight cry which 
 might be either of anger or of pain and lifting his 
 axe with both hands, levelled a blow on the Bur- 
 gundian's helmet that well nigh brought him to 
 his knee. And now, for the space of some ten 
 minutes, the crowd, with charmed suspense, be- 
 held the almost breathless rapidity with which 
 stroke on stroke was given and parried ; the axe 
 shifted to and fro wielded now with both hands 
 now the left, now the right and the combat 
 reeling, as it were, to and fro, so that one moment 
 it ras;ed at one extreme of the lists the next at
 
 110 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 the other ; and so well inured, from their very in- 
 fancy, to the weight of mail were these redoubted 
 champions, that the very wrestlers on the village 
 green, nay, the naked gladiators of old, might have 
 envied their lithe agility and supple quickness. 
 
 At last, by a most dexterous stroke, Anthony 
 Woodville forced the point of his axe into the 
 vizor of the Burgundian, and there so firmly did 
 it stick, that he was enabled to pull his antagonist 
 to and fro at his will, while the Bastard, ren- 
 dered as blind as his horse by the stoppage of the 
 eye-hole, dealt his own blows about at random, 
 and was placed completely at the mercy of the 
 Englishman. And gracious as the gentle Sir 
 Anthony was, he was still so smarting under many 
 a bruise felt through his dinted mail, that small 
 mercy, perchance, would the Bastard have found, 
 for the gripe of the Woodville's left hand was on his 
 foe's throat, and the right seemed about to force 
 the point deliberately forward into the brain, when 
 Edward, roused from his delight at that pleasing 
 spectacle by a loud shriek from his sister Mar- 
 garet, echoed by the Duchess of Bedford, who 
 was by no means anxious that her son's axe 
 should be laid at the root of all her schemes, rose, 
 and crying, " Hold !" with that loud voice which 
 had so often thrilled a mightier field, cast down 
 his warderer. 
 
 Instantly the lists opened the marshals ad-
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. Ill 
 
 vanced severed the champions and unbraced the 
 count's helmet. But the Bastard's martial spirit, 
 exceedingly dissatisfied at the unfriendly inter- 
 ruption, rewarded the attention of the marshals 
 by an oath, worthy his relationship to Charles 
 the Bold ; and hurrying straight to the King, his 
 face flushed with wrath, and his eyes sparkling 
 with fire 
 
 " Noble sir and King," he cried, " do me not 
 this wrong ! I am not overthrown, nor scathed, 
 nor subdued I yield not. By every knightly 
 law, till one champion yields, he can call upon the 
 other to lay on and do his worst." 
 
 Edward paused, much perplexed and surprised 
 at finding his intercession so displeasing. He 
 glanced first at the Lord Rivers, who sate a little 
 below him, and whose cheek grew pale at the 
 prospect of his son's renewed encounter with one so 
 determined then at the immovable aspect of the 
 gentle and apathetic Elizabeth then at the agi- 
 tated countenance of the Duchess then at the 
 imploring eyes of Margaret, who, with an effort, 
 preserved herself from swooning ; and, finally, 
 beckoning to him the Duke of Clarence, as high 
 constable, and the Duke of Norfolk, as earl mar- 
 shal, he said, " Tarry a moment, Sir Count, till 
 we take counsel in this grave affair." The Count 
 bowed sullenly the spectators maintained an 
 anxious silence the curtain before the King's
 
 112 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 gallery was closed while the council conferred. 
 At the end of some three minutes, however, the 
 drapery was drawn aside by the Duke of Norfolk ; 
 and Edward fixing his bright blue eye upon the 
 fiery Burgundian, said, gravely, " Count de la 
 Roche, your demand is just. According to the 
 laws of the List, you may fairly claim that the en- 
 counter go on." 
 
 " Oh ! knightly Prince, well said. My thanks ! 
 We lose time squires, my bassinet !" 
 
 "Yea," renewed Edward, "bring hither the 
 Count's bassinet. By the laws, the combat may 
 go on at thine asking I retract my wardercr. 
 But, Count de la Roche, by those laws you ap- 
 peal to, the said combat must go on precisely at 
 the point at which it was broken off. Wherefore 
 brace on thy bassinet, Count de la Roche and 
 thou, Anthony Lord Scales, fix the pike of thine 
 axe, which I now perceive was inserted exactly 
 where the right eye giveth easy access to the brain, 
 precisely in the same place. So renew the con- 
 test, and the Lord have mercy on thy soul, Count 
 de la Roche !" 
 
 At this startling sentence, wholly unexpected, 
 and yet wholly according to those laws of which 
 Edward was so learned a judge, the Bastard's 
 visage fell. With open mouth and astounded 
 eyes, he stood gazing at the King, who, majes- 
 tically reseating himself, motioned to the heralds.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 113 
 
 " Is that the law, sire ?" at length faltered forth 
 the Bastard. 
 
 " Can you dispute it ? Can any knight or gen- 
 tleman gainsay it ?" 
 
 " Then," quoth the Bastard, gruffly, and 
 throwing his axe to the ground, " by all the 
 Saints in the calendar ! I have had enough. I came 
 hither to dare all that beseems a chevalier, but to 
 stand still while Sir Anthony Woodville deliberately 
 pokes out my right eye, were a feat to shew that 
 very few brains would follow. And so, my Lord 
 Scales, I give thee my right hand, and wish thee 
 joy of thy triumph, and the golden collar."* 
 
 " No triumph," replied the Woodville, modestly, 
 " for thou art only, as brave knights should be, sub- 
 dued by the charms of the ladies, which no breast, 
 however valiant, can with impunity dispute." 
 
 So saying, the Lord Scales led the Count to a 
 seat of honour near the Lord Rivers. And the 
 actor was contented, perforce, to become a spec- 
 tator of the ensuing contests. These were carried 
 on till late at noon between the Burgundians and 
 the English, the last maintaining the superiority 
 of their principal champion ; and among those in 
 the melee, to which squires were admitted, not 
 the least distinguished and conspicuous was our 
 youthful friend, Master Marmaduke Nevile. 
 
 * The prize was a collar of gold, enamelled with the flower 
 of the souvenance. 
 
 VOL. II.
 
 114 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 HOW THE BASTARD OF BURGUNDY PROSPERED MORE IN HIS 
 POLICY THAN WITH THE POLE-AXB AND HOW KING 
 EDWARD HOLDS HIS SUMMER CHASE IN THE FAIR 
 GROVES OF SHENE. 
 
 IT was some days after the celebrated encoun- 
 ter between the Bastard and Lord Scales ; and 
 the Court had removed to the Palace of Sherie. 
 The Count de la Roche's favour with the Duchess 
 of Bedford and the young Princess had not rested 
 upon his reputation for skill with the pole-axe, and 
 it had now increased to a height that might well 
 recompense the diplomatist for his discomfiture in 
 the lists. 
 
 In the meanwhile, the arts of Warwick's enemies 
 had been attended with signal success. The final 
 preparations for the alliance, now in re concluded, 
 with Louis's brother, still detained the Earl at Rouen, 
 and fresh accounts of the French King's intimacy 
 with the ambassador were carefully forwarded to 
 Rivers, and transmitted to Edward. Now, we have
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 115 
 
 Edward's own authority for stating that his first 
 grudge against Warwick originated in this dis- 
 pleasing intimacy, but the English King was too 
 clear-sighted to interpret such courtesies into the 
 gloss given them by Rivers. He did not for a 
 moment cone eive that Lord Warwick was led into 
 any absolute connexion with Louis which could 
 link him to the Lancastrians, for this was against 
 common sense ; but Edward was, with all his 
 good-humour, implacable and vindictive, and he 
 could not endure the thought that Warwick should 
 gain the friendship of the man he deemed his foe. 
 Putting aside his causes of hatred to Louis, in the 
 encouragement that king had formerly given to the 
 Lancastrian exiles, Edward's pride as sovereign 
 felt acutely the slighting disdain with which the 
 French King had hitherto treated his royalty and 
 his birth. The customary nickname with which 
 he was maligned in Paris was " the Son of the 
 Archer," a taunt upon the fair fame of his mother, 
 whom scandal accused of no rigid fidelity to the 
 Duke of York. Besides this, Edward felt some- 
 what of the jealousy natural to a king, himself so 
 spirited and able, of the reputation for profound 
 policy and statecraft, which Louis XL was rapidly 
 widening and increasing throughout the Courts of 
 Europe. And, what with the resentment, and what 
 with the jealousy, there had sprung up in his
 
 116 THE LAST OP THE BARONS, 
 
 warlike heart a secret desire to advance the claims 
 of England to the throne of France, and retrieve 
 the conquests won by the Fifth Henry, to be lost 
 under the Sixth. Possessing these feelings and 
 these views, Edward necessarily saw, in the alliance 
 with Burgundy, all that could gratify both his hate 
 and his ambition. The Count of Charolois had 
 sworn to Louis the most deadly enmity, and would 
 have every motive, whether of vengeance or of in- 
 terest, to associate himself heart in hand with the 
 arms of England in any invasion of France ; and 
 to these warlike objects Edward added, as we have 
 so often had cause to remark, the more peaceful 
 aims and interests of commerce. And, therefore, 
 although he could not so far emancipate himself 
 from that influence, which both awe and gratitude 
 invested in the Earl of Warwick, as to resist his 
 great minister's embassy to Louis ; and though, 
 despite all these reasons in favour of connexion 
 with Burgundy, he could not but reluctantly allow 
 that Warwick urged those of a still larger and 
 wiser policy, when shewing that the infant dynasty 
 of York could only be made secure by effectually 
 depriving Margaret of the sole ally that could 
 venture to assist her cause, yet no sooner had 
 Warwick fairly departed, than he inly chafed at 
 the concession he had made, and his mind was 
 open to all the impressions which the Earl's ene-
 
 THE LAST OF THE BlRONS. 117 
 
 mies sought to stamp upon it. As the wisdom of 
 every man, however able, can but run through those 
 channels which are formed by the soil of the charac- 
 ter, so Edward, with all his talents, never possessed 
 the prudence which fear of consequences inspires. 
 He was so eminently fearless so scornful of danger 
 that he absolutely forgot the arguments on which 
 the affectionate zeal of Warwick had based the 
 alliance with Louis arguments as to the unceas- 
 ing peril, whether to his person or his throne, so 
 long as the unprincipled and plotting genius of the 
 French King had an interest against both and 
 thus he became only alive to the representations of 
 his passions, his pride, and his mercantile advan- 
 tages. The Duchess of Bedford, the Queen, and 
 all the family of Woodville, who had but one object 
 at heart the downfall of Warwick and his House 
 knew enough of the Earl's haughty nature to be 
 aware that he would throw up the reins of govern- 
 ment the moment he knew that Edward had dis- 
 credited and dishonoured his embassy ; and, de- 
 spite the suspicions they sought to instil in their 
 king's mind, they calculated upon the Earl's love 
 and near relationship to Edward upon his utter, 
 and seemingly irreconcilable breach with the 
 House of Lancaster to render his wrath impo- 
 tent and to leave him only the fallen minister, 
 not the mighty rebel. 
 
 Edward had been thus easily induced to permit
 
 118 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 the visit of the Count de la Roche, although he 
 had by no means then resolved upon the course he 
 should pursue. At all events, even if the alliance 
 with Louis Avas to take place, the friendship of Bur- 
 gundy was worth much to maintain. But De la 
 Roche, soon made aware, by the Duchess of Bed- 
 ford, of the ground on which he stood, and in- 
 structed by his brother to spare no pains and 
 to scruple no promise that might serve to alienate 
 Edward from Louis, and win the hand and dower 
 of Margaret, found it a more facile matter than his 
 most sanguine hopes had deemed, to work upon 
 the passions and the motives which inclined the 
 King to the pretensions of the heir of Burgundy. 
 And what more than all else favoured the envoy's 
 mission was the very circumstance that should 
 most have defeated it viz., the recollection of the 
 Earl of Warwick. For in the absence of that 
 powerful baron, and master-minister, the King 
 had seemed to breathe more freely. In his absence, 
 he forgot his power. The machine of government, 
 to his own surprise, seemed to go on as well, the 
 Commons were as submissive, the mobs as noisy 
 in their shouts, as if the Earl was by. There was 
 no longer any one to share with Edward the joys of 
 popularity, the sweets of power. Though Edward 
 was not Diogenes, he loved the popular sunshine, 
 and no Alexander now stood between him and its 
 beams. Deceived by the representations of his
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 119 
 
 courtiers, hearing nothing but abuse of Warwick, 
 and sneers at his greatness, he began to think 
 the hour had come when he might reign alone, 
 and he entered, though tacitly, and not acknow- 
 ledging it even to himself, into the very object 
 of the womanhood about him viz., the dismissal of 
 his minister. 
 
 The natural carelessness and luxurious indolence 
 of Edward's temper did not, however, permit him 
 to see all the ingratitude of the course he was 
 about to adopt. The egotism a king too often ac- 
 quires, and noking so easily as one, like EdwardlV., 
 not born to a throne, made him consider that he 
 alone was entitled to the prerogatives of pride. 
 As sovereign and as brother, might he not give 
 the hand of Margaret as he listed ? If Warwick 
 was offended, pest on his disloyalty and presump- 
 tion ! And so saying to himself, he dismissed the 
 very thought of the absent Earl, and glided uncon- 
 sciously down the current of the hour. And yet, 
 notwithstanding all these prepossessions and dis- 
 positions, Edward might no doubt have deferred, 
 at least, the meditated breach with his great mi- 
 nister until the return of the latter, and then have 
 acted with the delicacy and precaution that became 
 a king bound by ties of gratitude and blood to 
 the statesman he desired to discard, but for a 
 habit, which, while history mentions, it seems to 
 forget, in the consequences it ever engenders the
 
 120 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 habit of intemperance. Unquestionably, to that 
 habit many of the imprudences and levities of a 
 king possessed of so much ability, are to be 
 ascribed ; and over his cups with the wary and 
 watchful De la Roche, Edward had contrived to 
 entangle himself far more than in his cooler mo- 
 ments he would have been disposed. 
 
 Having thus admitted our readers into those 
 recesses of that cor inscrutalile the heart of 
 kings we summon them to a scene peculiar to 
 the pastimes of the magnificent Edward. Amidst 
 the shades of the vast park or chase which then 
 appertained to the Palace of Shene, the noonday 
 sun shone upon such a spot as Armida might have 
 dressed for the subdued Rinaldo. A space had 
 been cleared of trees and underwood, and made 
 level as a bowling green. Around this space the 
 huge oak and the broad beech were hung with 
 trellis-work, wreathed with jasmine, honeysuckle, 
 and the white rose, trained in arches. Ever and 
 anon through these arches extended long alleys or 
 vistas, gradually lost in the cool depth of foliage ; 
 amidst these alleys and around this space, number- 
 less arbours, quaint with all the flowers then known 
 in England, were constructed. In the centre of the 
 sward was a small artificial lake, long since dried 
 up, and adorned then with a profusion of foun- 
 tains, that seemed to scatter coolness around the 
 glowing air. Pitched in various and appropriate
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 121 
 
 sites, were tents of silk and the white cloth of 
 Rennes, each tent so placed as to command one 
 of the alleys ; and at the opening of each stood 
 cavalier or dame, with the bow or cross-bow, as 
 it pleased the fancy or suited best the skill, look- 
 ing for the quarry, which horn and hound drove 
 fast and frequent across the alleys. Such was the 
 luxurious " summer-chase " of the Sardanapalus 
 of the North. Nor could any spectacle more 
 thoroughly represent that poetical yet effeminate 
 taste, which, borrowed from the Italians, made a 
 short interval between the Chivalric and the Mo- 
 dern age ! The exceeding beauty of the day the 
 richness of the foliage in the first suns of bright 
 July the bay of the dogs the sound of the 
 mellow horn the fragrance of the air, heavy with 
 noontide flowers the gay tents the rich dresses 
 and fair faces and merry laughter of dame and 
 donzell combined [to take captive every sense, 
 and to reconcile Ambition itself, that Eternal 
 Traveller through the Future, to the enjoyment of 
 the voluptuous Hour. But there were illustrious 
 exceptions to the contentment of the general com- 
 pany. 
 
 A courier had arrived that morning to apprise 
 Edward of the unexpected debarkation of the 
 Earl of Warwick, with the Archbishop of Nar- 
 bonne and the Bastard of Bourbon, the ambas- 
 sadors commissioned by Louis to settle the pre- 
 
 VOL. n, G
 
 122 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 liminaries of the marriage between Margaret and 
 his brother. 
 
 This unwelcome intelligence reached Edward at 
 the very moment he was sallying from his palace 
 gates to his pleasant pastime. He took aside Lord 
 Hastings, and communicated to that, his most 
 able favourite, the news. " Put spurs to thy 
 horse, Hastings, and hie thee fast to Baynard's 
 Castle. Bring back Gloucester. In these difficult 
 matters, that boy's head is better than a council." 
 
 " Your Highness," said Hastings, tightening his 
 girdle with one hand, while with the other he 
 shortened his stirrups, " shall be obeyed. I fore- 
 saw, sire, that this coming would occasion much 
 that my Lords Rivers and Worcester have over- 
 looked. I rejoice that you summon the Prince 
 Richard, who hath wisely forborne all countenance 
 to the Burgundian envoy. But is this all, sire? 
 Is it not well to assemble also your trustiest lords 
 and most learned prelates, if not to overawe Lord 
 Warwick's anger, at least to confer on the fitting 
 excuses to be made to King Louis's ambassadors ?" 
 
 " And so lose the fairest day this summer hath 
 bestowed upon us ? Tush ! the more need for 
 pleasaunce to-day, since business must come to- 
 morrow. Away with you, dear Will !" 
 
 Hastings looked grave, but he saw all further 
 remonstrance would be in vain, and hoping much 
 from the intercession of Gloucester, put spurs to his
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 123 
 
 steed, and vanished. Edward mused a moment ; 
 and Elizabeth, who knew every expression and 
 change of his countenance, rode from the circle of 
 her ladies, and approached him timidly. Casting 
 down her eyes, which she always affected in speak- 
 ing to her lord, the Queen said, softly, 
 
 " Something hath disturbed my liege and my 
 life's life." 
 
 " Marry, yes, sweet Bessee. Last night, to plea- 
 sure thee and thy kin (and sooth to say, small gra- 
 titude ye owe me, for it also pleased myself), I 
 promised Margaret's hand, through De la Roche, 
 to the heir of Burgundy." 
 
 "O princely heart!" exclaimed Elizabeth, her 
 whole face lighted up with triumph " ever seeking 
 to make happy those it cherishes. But is it that 
 which disturbs thee that which thou repentest ?" 
 
 " No, sweetheart no. Yet had it not been for 
 the strength of the clary, I should have kept the 
 Bastard longer in suspense. But what is done is 
 done. Let not thy roses wither when thou hearest 
 Warwick is in England nay, nay, child, look 
 not so appalled thine Edward is no infant, whom 
 ogre and goblin scares; and" glancing his eye 
 proudly round as he spoke, and saw the goodly 
 cavalcade of his peers and knights, with his body- 
 guard tall and chosen veterans filling up the 
 palace-yard, with the show of casque and pike, 
 " and if the struggle is to come between Edward of 
 G2
 
 124 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 England and his subject, never an hour more ripe 
 than this; my throne assured the new nobility I 
 have raised, around it London true, marrow and 
 heart, true the Provinces at peace the ships and 
 the steel of Burgundy mine allies! Let the White 
 Bear growl as he list, the Lion of March is lord of 
 the forest. And now, my Bessee," added the King, 
 changing his haughty tone into a gay, careless 
 laugh, " now let the lion enjoy his chase." 
 
 He kissed the gloved hand of his Queen, gal- 
 lantly bending over his saddle-bow, and the next mo- 
 ment he was by the side of a younger, if not a fairer 
 lady, to whom he was devoting the momentary 
 worship of his inconstant heart. Elizabeth's eyes 
 shot an angry gleam as she beheld her faithless 
 lord thus engaged ; but so accustomed to conceal 
 and control the natural jealousy, that it never be- 
 trayed itself to the Court or to her husband, she 
 soon composed her countenance to its ordinary 
 smooth and artificial smile, and rejoining her mo- 
 ther, she revealed what had passed. The proud 
 and masculine spirit of the Duchess felt only joy 
 at the intelligence. In the anticipated humiliation 
 of Warwick, she forgot all cause for fear not so 
 her husband and son, the Lords Rivers and Scales, 
 to whom the news soon travelled. 
 
 " Anthony," whispered the father, " in this game 
 we have staked our heads." 
 
 " But our right hands can guard them well, sir,"
 
 THE LAST OF THE KARONS. 125 
 
 answered Anthony ; " and so God and the ladies for 
 our rights !" 
 
 Yet this bold reply did not satisfy the more 
 thoughtful judgment of the Lord Treasurer, and 
 even the brave Anthony's arrows that day wandered 
 wide of their quarry. 
 
 Amidst this gay scene, then, there were anxious 
 and thoughtful bosoms. Lord Rivers was silent 
 and abstracted; his son's laugh was hollow and 
 constrained ; the Queen, from her pavilion, cast, 
 ever and anon, more restless and prying looks down 
 the green alleys than the hare or the deer could 
 cause ; her mother's brow was knit and flushed 
 and keenly were those illustrious persons watched 
 by one deeply interested in the coming events. 
 Affecting to discharge the pleasant duty assigned 
 him by the King, the Lord Montagu glided from 
 tent to tent, inquiring courteously into the accom- 
 modation of each group, lingering, smiling, com- 
 plimenting, watching, heeding, studying, those 
 whom he addressed. For the first time since the 
 Bastard's visit, he had joined in the diversions in 
 its honour, and yet, so well had Montagu played 
 his part at the Court, that he did not excite amongst 
 the Queen's relatives any of the hostile feelings 
 entertained towards his brother. No man, except 
 Hastings, was so " entirely loved" by Edward ; and 
 Montagu, worldly as he was, and indignant against 
 the King, as at that moment he could not fail to
 
 126 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 be, so far repaid the affection, that his chief fear at 
 that moment sincerely was, not for Warwick, but 
 for Edward. He alone of those present was aware 
 of the cause of Warwick's hasty return, for he had 
 privately dispatched to him the news of the Bas- 
 tard's visit, its real object, and the inevitable suc- 
 cess of the intrigues afloat, unless the Earl could 
 return at once, his mission accomplished, and the 
 ambassadors of France in his train; and even 
 before the courier dispatched to the King had 
 arrived at Shene, a private hand had conveyed to 
 Montagu the information that Warwick, justly 
 roused and alarmed, had left the state procession 
 behind at Dover, and was hurrying, fast as relays 
 of steeds and his own fiery spirit could bear him, to 
 the presence of the ungrateful King. 
 
 Meanwhile the noon had now declined, the sport 
 relaxed, and the sound of the trumpet from the 
 King's pavilion proclaimed that the lazy pastime 
 was to give place to the luxurious banquet. 
 
 At this moment, Montagu approached a tent 
 remote from the royal pavilions, and, as his noise- 
 less footstep crushed the grass, he heard the sound 
 of voices, in which there was little in unison with 
 the worldly thoughts that filled his breast. 
 
 " Nay, sweet mistress, nay," said a young man's 
 voice, earnest with emotion "do not misthink 
 me do not deem me bold and overweening. I 
 have sought to smother my love, and to rate it,
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 127 
 
 and bring pride to my aid, but in vain ; and, now, 
 whether you will scorn my suit or not, I re- 
 member, Sybill O Sybill ! I remember the days 
 when we conversed together, and as a brother, if 
 nothing else nothing dearer I pray you to pause 
 well, and consider what manner of man this Lord 
 Hastings is said to be !" 
 
 " Master Nevile, is this generous ? why afflict 
 me thus ? why couple my name with so great a 
 lord's?" 
 
 " Because beware the young gallants already 
 so couple it, and their prophecies are not to thine 
 honour, Sybill. Nay, do not frown at me. I 
 know thou art fair and winsome, and deftly gifted, 
 and thy father may, for aught I know, be able to 
 coin thee a queen's dower out of his awsome en- 
 gines. But Hastings will not wed thee, and his 
 wooing, therefore, but stains thy fair repute; 
 while I " 
 
 " You !" said Montagu, entering suddenly 
 "you, kinsman, may look to higher fortunes than the 
 Duchess of Bedford's waiting- damsel can bring to 
 thy honest love. How now, mistress, say wilt 
 thou take this young gentleman for loving fere 
 and plighted spouse ? If so, he shall give thee a 
 manor for jointure, and thou shalt wear velvet 
 robe and gold chain, as a knight's wife." 
 
 This unexpected interference, which was per- 
 fectly in character with the great lords, who fre-
 
 128 THE LAST OF THE BAROXS. 
 
 quently wooed in very peremptory tones for their 
 clients and kinsmen,* completed the displeasure 
 which the blunt Marmakuke had already called forth 
 in Sybill's gentle but proud nature. " Speak, maiden, 
 ay or no ?" continued Montagu, surprised and an- 
 gered at the haughty silence of one whom he just 
 knew by sight and name, though he had never be- 
 fore addressed her. 
 
 " No, my lord," answered Sybill, keeping down 
 her indignation at this tone, though it burned in 
 her cheek, flashed in her eye, and swelled in the 
 heave of her breast. " No ! and your kinsman 
 might have spared this affront to one whom but 
 it matters not." She swept from the tent as she 
 said this, and passed up the alley, into that of 
 the Queen's mother. 
 
 " Best so ; thou art too young for marriage, 
 Marmaduke," said Montagu, coldly. "We will 
 find thee a richer bride ere long. There is Mary 
 of Winstown the Archbishop's ward with two 
 castles, and seven knight's fees." 
 
 " But so marvellously ill-featured, my lord," said 
 poor Marmaduke, sighing. 
 
 Montagu looked at him in surprise. " Wives, 
 sir," he said, " are not made to look at, unless, 
 
 * See, in Miss Strickland's ' Life of Elizabeth Woodville,' the 
 curious letters which the Duke of York and the Earl of War- 
 wick addressed to her, then a simple maiden, in favour of their 
 protege", Sir R. Johnes.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 129 
 
 indeed, they be the wives of other men. But dis- 
 miss these follies for the nonce. Back to thy 
 post by the king's pavilion ; and by the way, ask 
 Lord Fauconberg and Aymer Nevile, whom tliou 
 wilt pass by yonder arbour ask them in my name, 
 to be near the pavilion while the king banquets. 
 A word in thine car ere yon sun gilds the tops 
 of those green oaks, the Earl of Warwick will be 
 with Edward IV. ; and come what may, some 
 brave hearts should be by to welcome him. Go ?" 
 Without tarrying for an answer, Montagu turned 
 into one of the tents, wherein Raoul de Fulke and 
 the Lord St. John, heedless of hind and hart, 
 conferred, and Marmaduke, much bewildered, and 
 bitterly wroth with Sybill, went his way.
 
 130 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 IX. 
 
 THE GREAT ACTOK RETURNS TO FULL THE STAGE. 
 
 AND now, in various groups, these summer foresters 
 were at rest in their afternoon banquet; some lying 
 on the smooth sward around the lake some in 
 the tents some again in the arbours; here and 
 there the forms of dame and cavalier might be 
 seen, stealing apart from the rest, and gliding- 
 down the alleys till lost in the shade for under 
 that reign, gallantry was universal. Before the 
 king's pavilion a band of those merry jongleurs, into 
 whom the ancient and honoured minstrels were 
 fast degenerating, stood waiting for the signal to 
 commence their sports, and listening to the laughter 
 that came in frequent peals from the royal' tent. 
 Within feasted Edward, the Count de la Roche, 
 the Lord Rivers ; while in a larger and more 
 splendid pavilion, at some little distance, the 
 Queen, her mother, and the great dames of the 
 Court, held their own slighter and less noisy 
 repast.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 131 
 
 " And here, then," said Edward, as he put his 
 lips to a gold goblet, wrought with gems, and 
 passed it to Anthony the Bastard " here, Count, 
 we take the first waisall to the loves of Charolois 
 and Margaret !" 
 
 The Count drained the goblet, and the wine 
 gave him new fire. 
 
 "And with those loves, King," said he, "we 
 bind for ever Burgundy and England. Woe to 
 France !" 
 
 " Ay, woe to France !" exclaimed Edward, his 
 face lighting up with that martial joy which it ever 
 took at the thoughts of war " for we will wrench 
 her lands from this huckster, Louis. By Heaven ! I 
 shall not rest in peace till York hath regained what 
 Lancaster hath lost; and out of the parings of 
 the realm which I will add to England, thy bro- 
 ther of Burgundy shall have enow to change his 
 Duke's diadem for a King's. How now, Rivers ? 
 Thou gloomest, father mine." 
 
 " My liege," said Rivers, wakening himself, " I 
 did but think that if the Earl of Warwick " 
 
 " Ah ! I had forgotten," interrupted Edward ; 
 " and, sooth to say, Count Anthony, I think if the 
 Earl were by, he would not much mend our boon- 
 fellowship !" 
 
 " Yet a good subject," said De la Roche, sneer- 
 ingly, "usually dresses his face by that of his 
 kins."
 
 132 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 " A subject ! Ay, but Warwick is much such a 
 subject to England as William of Normandy or 
 Duke Hollo was to France. Ilowbeit, let him 
 come our realm is at peace we want no more his 
 battle-axe ; and in our new designs on France, 
 thy brother, bold Count, is an ally that might 
 compensate for a greater loss than a sullen minis- 
 ter. Let him come !" 
 
 As the King spoke, there was heard gently upon 
 the smooth turf the sound of the hoofs of steeds. 
 A moment more, and from the outskirts of the 
 scene of revel, where the King's guards were 
 stationed, there arose a long, loud shout. Nearer 
 and nearer came the hoofs of the steeds they 
 paused. " Doubtless Richard of Gloucester, by 
 that shout ! The soldiers love that brave boy," said 
 the King. 
 
 Marmaduke Nevile, as gentleman in waiting, 
 drew aside the curtain of the pavilion ; and as he 
 uttered a name that paled the cheeks of all who 
 heard, the Earl of Warwick entered the royal 
 presence. 
 
 The Earl's dress was disordered and soiled by 
 travel ; the black plume on his cap was broken, 
 and hung darkly over his face ; his horseman's boots 
 coining half way up the thigh, were sullied with 
 the dust of the journey ; and yet as he entered, be- 
 fore the majesty of his mien, the grandeur of his 
 stature, suddenly De la Roche, Rivers, even the
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 133 
 
 gorgeous Edward himself, seemed dwarfed into 
 common men ! About the man his air, his eye, 
 his form, his attitude there was THAT which, in 
 the earlier times, made kings, by the acclamation 
 of the crowd, an unmistakable sovereignty, as 
 of one whom Nature herself had shaped and 
 stamped for power and for rule. All three had 
 risen as he entered ; and to a deep silence suc- 
 ceeded an exclamation from Edward, and then 
 again all was still. 
 
 The Earl stood a second or two calmly gazing on 
 the effect he had produced ; and turning his dark 
 eye from one to the other, till it rested full upon 
 De la Roche, who, after vainly striving not to quail 
 beneath the gaze, finally smiled with affected dis- 
 dain, and, resting his hand on his dagger, sunk 
 back into his seat. 
 
 " My liege," then said Warwick, doffing his cap, 
 and approaching the King with slow and grave re- 
 spect, " I crave pardon for presenting myself to 
 your Highness thus travel-worn and disordered, but 
 I announce that news which ensures my welcome. 
 The solemn embassy of trust committed to me by 
 your Grace has prospered, with God's blessing; 
 and the Fils de Bourbon and the Archbishop of 
 Narbonne are on their way to your metropolis. 
 Alliance between the two great monarchies of 
 Europe is concluded on terms that insure the 
 weal of England, and augment the lustre of your 
 
 VOL. II.
 
 134 THE LAST OP THE BARONS. 
 
 crown. Your claims on Normandy and Guienne, 
 King Louis consents to submit to the arbitre- 
 ment of the Roman Pontiff,* and to pay to your 
 Jtreasuy annual tribute ; these advantages, greater 
 than your Highness even empowered me to de- 
 mand, thus obtained, his royal brother joyfully 
 awaits the hand of the Lady Margaret. 
 
 " Cousin," said Edward, who had thoroughly 
 recovered himself, and motioning the Earl to a 
 seat, " you are ever welcome, no matter what 
 your news; but I marvel much that so deft a 
 statesman should broach these matters of council 
 in the unseasonable hour, and before the gay com- 
 rades, of a revel." 
 
 " I speak, sire," said Warwick, calmly, though 
 the veins in his forehead swelled, and his dark 
 countenance was much flushed " I speak openly 
 of that which hath been done nobly; and this 
 truth has ceased to be matter of council, since 
 the meanest citizen who hath ears and eyes, ere 
 this, must know for what purpose the ambassadors 
 of King Louis arrive in England with your High- 
 ness's representative. 
 
 Edward, more embarrassed at this tone than he 
 could have foreseen, remained silent ; but De la 
 Roche, impatient to humble his brother's foe, and 
 
 * The Pope, moreover, was to be engaged to decide the ques- 
 tion within four years. A more brilliant treaty for England, 
 Edward's ambassador could not have effected. 
 
 -
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 135 
 
 judging it also discreet to arouse the King, said 
 carelessly 
 
 "It were a pity, Sir Earl, that the citizens, 
 whom you thus deem privy to the thoughts of 
 Kings, had not prevised the Archbishop of Nar- 
 bonne, that, if he desire to see a fairer show than 
 even the palaces of Westminster and the Tower, 
 he will hasten back to behold the banners of Bur- 
 gundy and England waving from the spires of 
 Notre Dame." 
 
 Ere the Bastard had concluded, Rivers, leaning 
 back, whispered the King "For Christ's sake, 
 sire, select some fitter scene for what must follow ! 
 Silence your guest !" 
 
 But Edward, on the contrary, pleased to think 
 that De la Roche was breaking the ice, and hopeful 
 that some burst from Warwick would give him 
 more excuse than he felt at present for a rupture, 
 said, sternly, " Hush, my lord, and meddle not !" 
 
 " Unless I mistake," said Warwick, coldly, " he 
 who now accosts me is the Count de la Roche 
 a foreigner." 
 
 (i And the brother of the heir of Burgundy," 
 interrupted De la Roche " brother to the be- 
 trothed and princely spouse of Margaret of Eng- 
 land." 
 
 " Doth this man lie, sire ?" said Warwick, who 
 had seated himself a moment, and who now rose 
 again. 
 

 
 136 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 The Bastard sprung also to his feet, but Ed- 
 ward, waving him back, and reassurning the ex- 
 ternal dignity which rarely forsook him, replied, 
 " Cousin, thy question lacketh courtesy to 
 our noble guest: since thy departure, reasons of 
 state, we will impart to thee at a meeter season, 
 have changed our purpose, and we will now that 
 our sister Margaret shall wed with the Count of 
 Charolois." 
 
 " And this to me, King !" exclaimed the Earl, 
 all his passions at once released " this to me ! 
 Nay frown not, Edward I am of the race of those 
 who, greater than kings, have built thrones and 
 toppled them ! I tell thee, thou hast misused mine 
 honour, and belied thine own thou hast debased 
 thyself in juggling me, delegated as the Represen- 
 tative of thy Royalty ! Lord Rivers, stand back 
 there are barriers enow between Truth and a 
 King !" 
 
 " By St. George and my father's head !" cried 
 Edward, with a rage no less fierce then Warwick's 
 " thou abusest, false lord, my mercy and our 
 kindred blood. Another word, and thou leavest 
 this pavilion for the Tower !" 
 
 " King !" replied Warwick, scornfully, and 
 folding his arms on his broad breast "there is 
 not a hair on this head which thy whole House, 
 thy guards, and thine armies could dare to touch. 
 ME to the Tower ! Send me and when the
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 1 37 
 
 third sun reddens the roof of prison-house and 
 palace, look round broad England, and miss a 
 throne !" 
 
 " What ho there !" exclaimed Edward, stamping 
 his foot; and at that instant the curtain of the 
 pavilion was hastily torn aside, and Richard of 
 Gloucester entered, followed by Lord Hastings, 
 the Duke of Clarence, and Anthony Woodville. 
 
 " Ah !" continued the King, " yc come in 
 time. George of Clarence, Lord High Constable 
 of England arrest yon haughty man, who dares 
 to menace his liege and suzerain !" 
 
 Gliding between Clarence, who stood dumb and 
 thunderstricken, and the Earl of Warwick, Prince 
 Richard said, in a voice which though even softer 
 than usual, had in it more command over those 
 who heard than when it rolled in thunder along 
 the ranks of Barnet or of Bosworth, " Edward, 
 my brother, remember Touton, and forbear War- 
 wick, my cousin, forget not thy king nor his 
 dead father !'' 
 
 At these last words the Earl's face fell ; for to 
 that father he had sworn to succour and defend 
 the sons : his sense recovering from his pride, 
 shewed him how much his intemperate anger had 
 thrown away his advantages in the foul wrong he 
 had sustained from Edward. Meanwhile the King 
 himself, with flashing eyes, and a crest as high as 
 Warwick's, was about, perhaps, to overthrow his 

 
 138 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 throne, by the attempt to enforce his threat, when 
 Anthony Woodville, who followed Clarence, whis- 
 pered to him " Beware, sire ! a countless crowd 
 that seem to have followed the Earl's steps, have 
 already pierced the chase, and can scarcely be 
 kept from the spot, so great is their desire to 
 behold him. Beware !" and Richard's quick ear 
 catching these whispered words, suddenly backed 
 them by again drawing aside the curtain of -the 
 tent. Along the sward, the guard of the King sum- 
 moned from their unseen but neighbouring post 
 within the wood, were drawn up as if to keep back 
 an immense multitude men, women, children, 
 who swayed, and rustled, and murmured in the 
 rear. But no sooner was the curtain drawn aside, 
 and the guards themselves caught sight of the 
 Royal Princes, and the great Earl towering amidst 
 them, than supposing, in their ignorance, the scene 
 thus given to them was intended for their gratifi- 
 cation, from that old soldiery of Teuton rose a 
 loud and long " Hurrah Warwick and the King" 
 " The King and the stout Earl." The multitude 
 behind caught the cry ; they rushed forward, ming- 
 ling with the soldiery, who no longer sought to 
 keep them back. 
 
 " A Warwick ! a Warwick !" they shouted. 
 
 " God bless the People's Friend !" 
 
 Edward, startled and aghast, drew sullenly into 
 the rear of the tent.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 139 
 
 De la Roche greAv pale, but with the prompt- 
 ness of a practised statesman, he hastily advanced, 
 and drew the curtain. 
 
 " Shall varlets," he said to Richard, in French, 
 " gloat over the quarrels of their lords ?" 
 
 " You are right, Sir Count," murmured Richard, 
 meekly; his purpose was effected, and leaning on 
 his riding staff, he awaited what was to ensue. 
 
 A softer shade had fallen over the Earl's face, at 
 the proof of the love in which his name was held ; 
 it almost seemed to his noble, though haughty and 
 impatient nature, as if the affection of the People 
 had reconciled him to the ingratitude of the 
 King. A tear started to his proud eye, but he 
 twinkled it away, and approaching Edward, who 
 remained erect, and with all a sovereign's wrath, 
 though silent on his lip, lowering on his brow, he 
 said, in a tone of suppressed emotion : 
 
 " Sire, it is not for me to crave pardon of living 
 man, but the grievous affront put upon my state 
 and mine honour, hath led my words to an excess 
 which my heart repents. I grieve that your Grace's 
 highness hath chosen this alliance ; hereafter you 
 may find at need what faith is to be placed in 
 Burgundy." 
 
 " Darest thou gainsay it V" exclaimed De la 
 Roche. 
 
 "Interrupt me not, sir!" continued Warwick, 
 with a disdainful gesture. " My liege, I lay down
 
 140 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 mine offices, and I leave it to your Grace to ac- 
 count as it lists you to the ambassadors of France 
 I shall vindicate myself to their king. And now, 
 ere I depart for my hall of Middleham, I alone 
 here, unarmed, and unattended, save, at least, by 
 a single squire, I, Richard Nevile, say, that if any 
 man, peer or knight, can be found to execute your 
 Grace's threat, and arrest me, I will obey your 
 royal pleasure, and attend him to the Tower." 
 Haughtily he bowed his head as he spoke, and 
 raising it again, gazed around " I await your 
 Grace's pleasure." 
 
 " Begone where thou wilt, Earl. From this day 
 Edward the Fourth reigns alone," said the King. 
 Warwick turned 
 
 " My Lord Scales," said he, " lift the curtain ; 
 nay, sir, it misdemeans you not. You are still 
 the son of the Woodville, I still the descendant of 
 John of Gaunt." 
 
 " Not for the dead ancestor, but for the living 
 warrior," said the Lord Scales, lifting the curtain, 
 and bowing with knightly grace as the Earl 
 passed. And scarcely was Warwick in the open 
 space, than the crowd fairly broke through all 
 restraint, and the clamour of their joy filled with 
 its hateful thunders the royal tent. 
 
 " Edward," said Richard, whisperingly, and 
 laying his finger on his brother's arm "forgive
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 141 
 
 me if I offended, but had you, at such a time, 
 resolved on violence " 
 
 " I see it all you were right. But is this to 
 be endured for ever?" 
 
 " Sire," returned Richard, with his dark smile, 
 " rest calm ; for the Age is your best ally, and the 
 Age is outgrowing the steel and hauberk. A little 
 while, and " 
 
 " And what- 
 
 " And ah, sire, I will answer that question when 
 
 our brother George (mark him !) either refrains 
 
 from listening, or is married to Isabel Nevile, 
 
 and hath quarrel with her father about the dowry. 
 
 What, ho, there ! let the jongleurs perform." 
 
 " The jongleurs !" exclaimed the King ; " why, 
 Richard, thou hast more levity than myself!" 
 
 " Pardon me ! Let the jongleurs perform, and 
 bid the crowd stay. It is by laughing at the 
 mountebanks that your Grace can best lead the 
 people to forget their Warwick !"
 
 142 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 X. 
 
 HOW THE GREAT LORDS COME TO THE KING-MAKER, AND 
 WITH WHAT 1'ROFFERS. 
 
 MASTERING the emotions that swelled within him, 
 Lord Warwick returned, with his wonted cheerful 
 courtesy, the welcome of the crowd, and the en- 
 thusiastic salutations of the King's guard ; but as, 
 at length, he mounted his steed, and attended but 
 by the squire who had followed him from Dover, 
 penetrated into the solitudes of the chase, the 
 recollection of the indignity he had suffered smote 
 his proud heart so sorely, that he groaned aloud. 
 His squire, fearing the fatigue he had undergone 
 might have affected even that iron health, rode up 
 at the sound of the groan, and Warwick's face was 
 hueless as he said, with a forced smile " It is 
 nothing, Walter. But these heats are oppressive, 
 and we have forgotten our morning draught, friend. 
 Hark ! I hear the brawl of a rivulet, and a drink 
 of fresh water were more grateful now than the
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 143 
 
 daintiest hippocras." So saying, he flung himself 
 from his steed ; following the sound of the ri- 
 vulet, he gained its banks, and after quenching his 
 thirst in the hollow of his hand, laid himself down 
 upon the long grass, waving coolly over the margin, 
 and fell into profound thought. From this reverie 
 he was roused by a quick footstep, and as he lifted 
 his gloomy gaze, he beheld Marmaduke Nevile by 
 his side. 
 
 "Well, young man," said he, sternly, "with 
 what messages art thou charged ?" 
 
 " With none, my lord Earl. I await now no 
 commands but thine." 
 
 " Thou knowest not, poor youth, that I can 
 serve thee no more. Go back to the Court." 
 
 " Oh, Vv T arwick," said Marmaduke, with simple 
 eloquence, " send me not from thy side ! This day 
 I have been rejected by the maid I loved. I loved 
 her well, and my heart chafed sorely, and bled 
 within ; but now, mcthinks, it consoles me to 
 have been so cast off to have no faith, no love, 
 but that which is best of all, to a brave man, love 
 and faith for a hero-chief! Where thy fortunes, 
 there be my humble fate to rise or fall with 
 thee !" 
 
 Warwick looked intently upon his young kins- 
 man's face, and said, as to himself, " Why this is 
 strange ! I gave no throne to this man, and he 
 deserts me not. My friend," he added, aloud,
 
 144 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 "have they told thee already that I am dis- 
 graced?" 
 
 "I heard the Lord Scales say to the young 
 Lovell, that thou vvert dismissed from all thine 
 offices ; and I came hither ; for I will serve no 
 more the king who forgets the arm and heart to 
 which he owes a kingdom." 
 
 " Man, I accept thy loyalty !" exclaimed War- 
 wick, starting to his feet ; " and know that thou 
 hast done more to melt, and yet to nerve my 
 spirit than but complaints in me are idle, and 
 praise were no reward to thee." 
 
 " But see, my lord, if the first to join thee, I 
 am not the sole one. See, brave Raoul de Fulke, 
 the Lords of St. John, Bergavenny, and Fitzhugh, 
 ay, and fifty others of the best blood of England, 
 are on thy track." 
 
 And as he spoke, plumes and tunics were seen 
 gleaming up the forest path, and in another mo- 
 ment a troop of knights and gentlemen, com- 
 prising the flower of such of the ancient nobility 
 as yet lingered round the Court, came up to War- 
 wick, bareheaded. 
 
 " Is it possible," cried Raoul de Fulke, " that 
 we have heard aright, noble Earl ? And has Edward 
 the Fourth suffered the base Woodvilles to triumph 
 over the bulwark of his realm ?" 
 
 " Knights and gentles !" said Warwick, with a 
 bitter smile, " is it so uncommon a thing that men
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 145 
 
 in peace should leave the battle-axe and brand 
 to rust ? I am but an useless weapon, to be sus- 
 pended at rest amongst the trophies of Touton in 
 my hall of Middleham." 
 
 " Return with us," said the Lord of St. John, 
 " and we will make Edward do thee justice, or, one 
 and all, we will abandon a Court where knaves and 
 varlets have become mightier than English valour, 
 and nobler than Norman birth." 
 
 " My friends," said the Earl, laying his hand on 
 St. John's shoulder, " not even in my just wrath will 
 I wrong my King. lie is punished enow in the 
 choice he hath made. Poor Edward and poor 
 England ! What woes and wars await ye both, 
 from the gold, and the craft, and the unsparing 
 hate of Louis XI. ! No ; if I leave Edward, he 
 hath more need of you. Of mine own free will, I 
 have resigned mine offices." 
 
 " Warwick," interrupted Raoul de Fulke, " this 
 deceives us not ; and in disgrace to you, the an- 
 cient barons of England behold the first blow at 
 their own state. We have wrongs we endured in 
 silence, while thou vvert the shield and sword of 
 yon merchant-King. We have seen the ancient 
 peers of England set aside for men of yesterday ; 
 we have seen our daughters, sisters, nay, our very 
 mothers if widowed and dowered forced into dis- 
 reputable and base wedlock, with creatures dressed 
 in titles, and gilded with wealth stolen from our- 
 
 YOL. II. H
 
 146 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. . 
 
 selves. Merchants and artificers tread upon our 
 knightly heels, and the Avarice of Trade eats up our 
 Chivalry as a rust. We nobles, in our greater day, 
 have had the crown at our disposal, and William 
 the Norman dared not think what Edward Earl of 
 March hath been permitted with impunity to do. 
 We, Sir Earl we knights and barons would a 
 King man enough to make men respect him, prince 
 enough to make peers confide. Richard Earl of 
 Warwick, thou art of royal blood the descendant 
 of old John of Gaunt. In thee we behold the true, 
 the living likeness of the Third Edward, and the 
 Hero-Prince of Cressy. Speak but the word, and 
 we make thee king !" 
 
 The descendant of the Norman, the Representa- 
 tive of the mighty Faction that no English monarch 
 had ever braved in vain, looked round as he said 
 these last words, and a choral murmur was heard 
 through the whole of that august nobility " We 
 make thee king !" 
 
 "Richard, descendant of the Plantagenet/* speak 
 the word," repeated Raoul de Fulke. 
 
 " I speak it not," interrupted Warwick ; " nor 
 shalt thou continue, brave Raoul de Fulke. What, 
 my lords and gentlemen," he added, drawing 
 himself up, and with his countenance animated 
 
 * By the female side, through Joan Beaufort, or Plantagenet, 
 Warwick was third in descent from John of Gaunt, as Henry 
 the Seventh, through the male line, WAS fourth in descent.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 147 
 
 with feelings it is scarcely possible in our times to 
 sympathize with or make clear " what ! think you 
 that Ambition limits itself to the narrow circlet of a 
 Crown ? Greater, and more in the spirit of our 
 mighty fathers, is the condition of men like us, THE 
 BARONS who make and unmake kings. What ! who 
 of us would not rather have been as our sires at 
 Runnymede than the craven monarch whom those 
 sires controlled and chid ? By Heaven, my lords, 
 Richard Nevile has too proud a soul to be a king ! 
 A king a puppet of state and form ! A king 
 a holiday show for the crowd, to hiss or hurrah, as 
 the humour seizes I A king a pauper to the na- 
 tion, wrangling with his parliament for gold ! A 
 king ! Richard the Second was a king, and Lan- 
 caster dethroned him. Ye would debase me to a 
 Henry of Lancaster. Mort Dieu ! I thank ye. 
 The Commons and the Lords raised him, forsooth, 
 for what ? To hold him as the creature they had 
 made, to rate him, to chafe him, to pry into his 
 very household, and quarrel with his wife's cham- 
 berlings andlavourers.* What ! dear Raoul de Fulke, 
 is thy friend fallen now so low, that he Earl of 
 Salisbury and of Warwick, chief of the threefold 
 race of Montagu, Monthermer, and Nevile, lord of 
 
 * Laundresses. The parliamentary rolls in the reign of Henry 
 the Fourth abound in curious specimens of the interference "of 
 the Commons with the household of Henry's wife, Queen Joan 
 
 H2 

 
 148 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 a hundred baronies, leader of sixty thousand fol- 
 lowers is not greater than Edward of March, to 
 whom we will deign still, with your permission, 
 to vouchsafe the name and pageant of a king ?" 
 
 This extraordinary address, strange to say, so 
 thoroughly expressed the peculiar pride of the old 
 barons, that when it ceased a sound of admiration 
 and applause circled through that haughty audi- 
 ence, and Raoul de Fulke, kneeling suddenly, 
 kissed the Earl's hand : " Oh, noble Earl," he said, 
 " ever live as one of us, to maintain our Order, and 
 teach kings and nations what WE are." 
 
 " Fear it not, Raoul ! fear it not we will have 
 our rights yet. Return, I beseech ye. Let me 
 feel I have such friends about the king. Even at 
 Middieham, my eye shall watch over our common 
 cause ; and till seven feet of earth suffice him, 
 your brother baron, Richard Nevile, is not a man 
 whom kings and courts can forget, much less dis- 
 honour. Sir, our honour is in our bosoms, and 
 there, is the only throne armies cannot shake, nor 
 cozeners mine away." 
 
 With these words he gently waved his hand, 
 motioned to his squire, who stood out of hearing 
 with the steeds, to approach, and mounting, gravely 
 rode on. Ere he had got many paces, he called to 
 Marmaduke, who was on foot, and bade him follow 
 him to London that night. " I have strange tidings
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 149 
 
 to tell the French envoys, and for England's sake I 
 must soothe their anger if I can, then to Mid- 
 dleham." 
 
 The nobles returned slowly to the pavilions. 
 And as they gained the open space, where the 
 gaudy tents still shone against the setting sun, 
 they beheld the mob of that day, whom Shakspearc 
 hath painted with such contempt, gathering, laugh- 
 ing and loud, around the rnountebank and the 
 conjurer, who had already replaced in their thoughts 
 (as Gloucester had foreseen) the hero-idol of their 
 worship. 
 
 END OF BOOK IV.
 
 BOOK THE FIFTH. 
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS IN HIS 
 FATHER'S HALLS.
 
 BOOK THE FIFTH. 
 
 I. 
 
 RURAL ENGLAND IN THE MIDDLE AGES NOULE VISITORS 
 SEEK THE CASTLE OF MIUDLEHAM. 
 
 AuTU-MN had succeeded to Summer Winter to 
 Autumn and the Spring of 1468 was green in 
 England, when a gallant cavalcade were seen 
 slowly winding the ascent of a long and gradual 
 hill, towards the decline of day. Different, indeed, 
 from the aspect which that part of the country 
 now presents was the landscape that lay around 
 them, bathed in the smiles of the westering sun. 
 In a valley to the left, a full view of which the 
 steep road commanded, (where now roars the din of 
 trade through a thousand factories,) lay opposite 
 a long secluded village. The houses, if so they 
 might be called, were constructed entirely of wood, 
 and that of the more perishable kind willow, sal- 
 low, elm, and plumtrce. Not one could boast a 
 u 3
 
 154 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 chimney; but the smoke from the single fire in 
 each, after duly darkening the atmosphere within, 
 sent its surplusage, lazily and fitfully, through a 
 circular aperture in the roof. In fact, there was 
 long in the provinces a prejudice against chimneys! 
 The smoke was considered good both for house 
 and owner ; the first it was supposed to season, 
 and the last to guard " from rheums, catarrhs, 
 and poses."* Neither did one of these habitations 
 boast the comfort of a glazed window, the substi- 
 tute being lattice, or chequer-work even in the 
 house of the franklin, which rose statelily above the 
 rest, encompassed with barns and out-sheds. And 
 yet greatly should we err, did we conceive that 
 these deficiencies were an index to the general 
 condition of the working-class. Far better off was 
 the labourer, tvhen employed, than now. Wages 
 were enormously high, meat extremely low ; f and 
 
 * So worthy Hollinshed, (Book II., c. 22)" Then had we 
 none but reredosses, and our heads did never ache. For as the 
 smoke, in those days, was supposed to be a sufficient harden- 
 ing for the timber of the house, so it was reputed a far better 
 medicine to keep the goodman and his familie from the quacke, 
 or pose, wherewith as then very few were oft acquainted." 
 
 f See Hallam's " Middle Ages," chap, xx., part 2. So also 
 Hollinshed, book 11, c. 12, comments on the amazement of 
 the Spaniards, in Queen Mary's time, when they saw " what 
 large diet was used in these^so homelie cottages," and reports 
 one of the Spaniards to have said, "These English have their 
 houses of sticks and dirt, but they fare commonlie so well as 
 the king!"
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 155 
 
 our Mother Land bountifully maintained her Chil- 
 dren. 
 
 On that greensward, before the village (now foul 
 and reeking with the squalid population, whom 
 Commerce rears up the Victims, as the Movers 
 of the Modern World) were assembled youth and 
 age ; for it was a holiday evening, and the grim 
 Puritan had not yet risen to sour the face of Mirth. 
 Well clad in leathern jerkin, or even broadcloth, 
 the young peasants vied with each other in quoits, 
 and wrestling ; while the merry laughter of the 
 girls, in their gay-coloured kirtles, and ribboned 
 hair, rose oft and cheerily to the ears of the caval- 
 cade. From a gentle eminence beyond the village, 
 and half veiled by trees, on which the first verdure 
 of spring was budding, (where now, around the 
 gin-shop, gather the fierce and sickly Children of 
 Toil and of Discontent,) rose the venerable walls of 
 a monastery, and the chime of its heavy bell swung 
 far and sweet over the pastoral landscape. To the 
 right of the road (where now stands the sober 
 Meeting-House) was one of those small shrines, so 
 frequent in Italy, with an Image of the Virgin 
 gaudily painted, and before it each cavalier in the 
 procession halted an instant to cross himself, and 
 mutter an ave. Beyond still, to the right, extended 
 vast chains of woodland, interspersed with strips of 
 pasture, upon which numerous flocks were grazing, 
 with horses, as yet unbroken to bit and selle, that
 
 156 THE LAST OP THE BARONS. 
 
 neighed and snorted as they caught scent of their 
 more civilized brethren pacing up the road. 
 
 In front of the cavalcade rode two, evidently of 
 superior rank to the rest. The one small and slight, 
 with his long hair flowing over his shoulders ; and 
 the other, though still young, many years older ; 
 and indicating his clerical profession by the ab- 
 sence of all love-locks, compensated by a curled 
 and glossy beard, trimmed with the greatest care. 
 But the dress of the ecclesiastic was as little accord- 
 ing to our modern notions of what beseems the 
 church as can well be conceived : his tunic and sur- 
 coat, of a rich amber, contrasted well with the clear 
 darkness of his complexion ; his piked shoes, or 
 beakers, as they were called, turned np half-way to 
 the knee ; the buckles of his dress were of gold, 
 inlaid with gems ; and the housings of his horse, 
 which was of great power, were edged with gold 
 fringe. By the side of his steed walked a tall 
 greyhound, upon which he ever and anon glanced 
 with affection. Behind these, rode two gentle- 
 men, whose golden spurs announced knighthood ; 
 and then followed a long train of squires and pages, 
 richly clad and accoutred, bearing generally the 
 Nevile badge of the Bull; though interspersed 
 amongst the retinue might be seen the grim. Boar's 
 Head, which Richard of Gloucester, in right of his 
 duchy, had assumed as his cognizance. 
 
 "Nay, sweet Prince," said the ecclesiastic, "I
 
 THE LAST OF THE BAUONS. 157 
 
 pray thce to consider that a greyhound is far more 
 of a gentleman than any other of the canine species. 
 Mark his stately, yet delicate length of limb his 
 sleek coat his keen eye his haughty neck." 
 
 " These are but the externals, my noble friend. 
 Will the greyhound attack the lion, as our mastiff' 
 doth ? The true character of the yentilhommc is 
 to know no fear, and to rush through all danger at 
 the throat of his foe ; wherefore I uphold the dig- 
 nity of the mastiff above all his tribe, though others 
 have a daintier hide, and a statelier crest. Enough 
 of such matters, Archbishop, we are nearing Mid- 
 dlehain." 
 
 " God be praised ! for I am hungered," observed 
 the Archbishop, piously ; " but, sooth to say, my 
 cook at the More far excelleth what we can hope 
 to find at the board of my brother. He hath some 
 faults, our Warwick ! Hasty and careless, he hath 
 not thought enow of the blessings he might enjoy, 
 and many a poor abbot hath daintier fare on his 
 humble table." 
 
 " Oh, George Nevile ! who that heard thee, when 
 thou talkest of hounds and interments,* would reco- 
 gnise the Lord Chancellor of England the most 
 learned dignitary the most subtle statesman ?" 
 
 " And oh, Richard Plantagenet !" retorted the 
 Archbishop, dropping the mincing and affected 
 tone, which he, in common with the coxcombs of 
 
 * Interments, entremets.
 
 158 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 that day, usually assumed, " who that heard thee, 
 when thou talkest of humility and devotion, would 
 recognise the sternest heart and the most daring 
 ambition God ever gave to prince ?" 
 
 Richard started at these words, and his eye shot 
 fire as it met the keen, calm gaze of the prelate. 
 
 " Nay, your Grace wrongs me," he said, gnaw- 
 ing his lip " or I should not say wrongs, but flat- 
 ters ; for sternness and ambition are no vices in a 
 Nevile's eyes." 
 
 "Fairly answered, royal son," said the Arch- 
 bishop, laughing ; " but let us be frank. Thou hast 
 persuaded me to accompany thee to Lord Warwick 
 as a mediator: the provinces in the North are dis- 
 turbed; the intrigues of Margaret of Anjou are 
 restless ; the King reaps what he has sown in the 
 Court of France, and, as Warwick foretold, the 
 emissaries and gold of Louis are ever at work 
 against his throne : the great barons are moody 
 and discontented ; and our liege King Edward is 
 at last aware that, if the Earl of Warwick do not 
 return to his councils, the first blast of a hostile 
 trumpet may drive him from his throne. Well, I 
 attend thee : my fortunes are woven with those of 
 York, and my interest and my loyalty go hand in 
 hand. Be equally frank with me. Hast thou, 
 Lord Richard, no interest to serve in this mission 
 save that of the public weal ?" 
 
 " Thou forgettest that the Lady Isabel is dearly
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 159 
 
 loved by Clarence, and that I would fain see re- 
 moved all barrier to his nuptial bliss. But yon 
 rise the towers of Middleham. Beloved walls, 
 which sheltered my childhood ! and, by holy Paul, 
 a noble pile, which would resist an army, or hold 
 one." 
 
 While thus conversed the Prince and the Arch- 
 bishop, the Earl of Warwick, musing and alone, 
 slowly paced the lofty terrace that crested the 
 battlements of his outer fortifications. 
 
 In vain had that restless and powerful spirit 
 sought content in retirement. Trained from his 
 childhood to active life to move mankind to and 
 fro at his beck this single and sudden interval of 
 repose in the prime of his existence, at the height 
 of his fame, served but to swell the turbulent 
 and dangerous passions to which all vent was for- 
 bidden. 
 
 The statesman of modern days has at least food 
 for intellect, in letters, when deprived of action ; 
 but with all his talents, and thoroughly cultivated 
 as his mind was in the camp, the council, and the 
 state, the great Earl cared for nothing in book- 
 lore, except some rude ballad that told of Charle- 
 magne or Hollo. The sports that had pleased the 
 leisure of his earlier youth were tedious and flat to 
 one snatched from so mighty a career. His hound 
 lay idle at his feet, his falcon took holiday on
 
 160 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 the perch, his jester was banished to the page's 
 table Behold the repose of this great unlettered 
 spirit ! But while his mind was thus debarred from 
 its native sphere, all tended to pamper Lord 
 Warwick's infirmity of pride. The ungrateful 
 Edward might forget him ; but the King seemed 
 to stand alone in that oblivion. The mightiest 
 peers, the most renowned knights gathered to 
 his hall. Middleham, not Windsor, nor Shenc, 
 nor Westminster, nor the Tower, seemed the 
 COURT OF ENGLAND. As the Last of the Barons 
 paeed his terrace, far as his eye could reach his 
 broad domains extended, studded with villages, 
 and towns, and castles, swarming with his re- 
 tainers. The whole country seemed in mourning 
 for his absence. The name of Warwick was in all 
 men's mouths, and not a group gathered in market- 
 place or hostel, but what the minstrel who had 
 some ballad in praise of the stout Earl found a rapt 
 and thrilling audience. 
 
 "And is the river of my life," muttered War- 
 wick, " shrunk into this stagnant pool ! Happy 
 the man who hath never known what it is to taste 
 of Fame to have it is a purgatory, to want it is a 
 hell!" 
 
 Wrapt in this gloomy self-commune, he heard 
 not the light step that sought his side, till a tender 
 arm was thrown around him, and a face, in which
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 sweet temper and pure thought had preserved to 
 matronly beauty all the bloom of youth, looked up 
 smilingly to his own. 
 
 My Lord ray Richard," said the Countess, 
 " why didst thou steal so churlishly from me ? 
 Hath there, alas ! come a time when thou deemcst 
 me unworthy to share thy thoughts, or soothe thy 
 troubles ?" 
 
 " Fond one ! no," said Warwick, drawing the 
 form still light, though rounded, nearer to his 
 bosom. "For nineteen years hast thou been to 
 me a leal and loving wife. Thou wert a child on 
 our wedding-day, m\imie, and I but a beardless 
 youth ; yet wise enough was I then to see, at the 
 first glance of thy blue eye, that there was more 
 treasure in thy heart than in all the lordships thy 
 hand bestowed." 
 
 " My Richard !" murmured the Countess, and 
 her tears of grateful delight fell on the hand she 
 kissed. 
 
 " Yes, let us recall those early and sweet days," 
 continued Warwick, with a tenderness of voice and 
 manner that strangers might have marvelled at, for- 
 getting how tenderness is almost ever a part of such 
 peculiar manliness of character" yes, sit we here 
 under this spacious elm, and think that our youth 
 has come back to us once more. For verily, 
 Mamie, nothing in life has ever been so fair to me,
 
 162 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 as those days when we stood hand in hand on its 
 threshold, and talked, boy-bridegroom and child- 
 bride as we were, of the morrow that lay beyond." 
 
 " Ah, Richard, even in those days thy ambition 
 sometimes vexed my woman vanity, and shewed 
 me that I could never be all in all to so large a 
 heart !" 
 
 " Ambition ! No, thou mistakest Montagu is 
 ambitious, I but proud. Montagu ever seeks to 
 be higher than he is, I but assert the right to be 
 what I am and have been ; and my pride, sweet 
 wife, is a part of my love for thee. It is thy title, 
 Heiress of Warwick, and not my father's, that I 
 bear; thy badge, and not the Neviles', which I 
 have made the symbol of my power. Shame, 
 indeed, on my knighthood, if the fairest dame in 
 England could not justify my pride ! Ah ! belle 
 amie, why have we not a son ?" 
 
 "Peradventure, fair lord," said the Countess, 
 with an arch, yet half-melancholy smile, " because 
 that pride or ambition, name it as thou wilt, which 
 thou excusest so gallantly, would become too insa- 
 tiate and limitless, if thou sawest a male heir to thy 
 greatness ; and God, perhaps, warns thee that, 
 spread and increase as thou wilt, yea, until half 
 our native country becometh as the manor of one 
 man all must pass from the Beauchamp and the 
 Nevile into new houses; thy glory, indeed, an
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 163 
 
 eternal heir-loom, but only to thy land thy lord- 
 ships and thy wealth melting into the dowry of a 
 daughter." 
 
 " At least, no king hath daughters so downed," 
 answered Warwick ; " and though I disdain for 
 myself the hard vassalage of a throne, yet, if the 
 channel of our blood must pass into other streams 
 into nothing meaner than the veins of royalty 
 should it merge." He paused a moment, and 
 added, with a sigh " Would that Clarence were 
 more worthy Isabel !" 
 
 " Nay," said the Countess, gently, " he loveth 
 her as she merits. He is comely, brave, gracious, 
 and learned." 
 
 " A pest upon that learning it sicklies and 
 womanizes men's minds !" exclaimed Warwick, 
 bluntly. " Perhaps it is his learning that I am to 
 thank for George of Clarence's fears, and doubts, 
 and calculations, and scruples. His brother forbids 
 his marriage with any English donzell, for Edward 
 dares not specialize what alone he dreads. His 
 letters burn with love, and his actions freeze with 
 doubt. It was not thus I loved thee, sweetheart. By 
 all the Saints in the calendar, had Henry the Fifth, 
 or the Lion Richard started from the tomb to forbid 
 me thy hand, it would but have made me a hotter 
 lover ! Howbeit Clarence shall decide ere the 
 moon wanes, and but for Isabel's tears and thy 
 entreaties, my father's grandchild should not have
 
 164 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 waited thus long the coming of so hesitating a 
 wooer. But lo, our darlings ! Anne hath thine 
 eyes, iifamie ; and she groweth more into my heart 
 every day, since daily she more favours thec." 
 
 While he thus spoke, the fair sisters came lightly 
 and gaily up the terrace : the arm of the statelier 
 Isabel was twined round Anne's slender waist ; 
 and as they came forward in that gentle link, 
 with their lithesome and bounding step, a hap- 
 pier blending of contrasted beauty was never seen. 
 The months that had passed since the sisters 
 were presented first to the reader had little 
 changed the superb and radiant loveliness of Isabel, 
 but had added surprisingly to the attractions of 
 Anne. Her form was more rounded, her bloom 
 more ripened, and though something of timidity 
 and bashfulness still lingered about the grace of 
 her movements and the glance of her dove-like 
 eye, the more earnest thoughts of the awakening 
 woman gave sweet intelligence to her countenance, 
 and that divinest of all attractions the touching 
 
 o 
 
 and conscious Modesty to the shy, but tender smile 
 and the blush that so came and went, so went 
 and came, that it stirred the heart with a sort of 
 delighted pity for one so evidently susceptible 
 to every emotion of pleasure and of pain. Life 
 seemed too rough a thing for so soft a nature, and 
 gazing on her, one sighed to guess her future. 
 "And what brings ye hither, young truants?''
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 165 
 
 said tlie Earl, as Anne, leaving her sister, clung 
 lovingly to his side, (for it was ever her habit to 
 cling to some one,) while Isabel kissed her mother's 
 hand, and then stood before her parents, colouring 
 deeply, and with downcast eyes. " What brings ye 
 hither, whom I left so lately deep engaged in the 
 loom, upon the helmet of Goliath, with my bur- 
 gonot before you as a sample ? Wife, you are to 
 blame our room of state will be arrasless for the 
 next three generations, if these rosy fingers are 
 suffered thus to play the idlers." 
 
 " My father," whispered Anne, " guests are on 
 their way hither, a noble cavalcade; you note 
 them not from this part of the battlements, but 
 from our turret it was fair to see how their plumes 
 and banners shone in the setting sun." 
 
 "Guests!" echoed the Earl; "well, is that so 
 rare an honour, that your hearts should beat like 
 village girls at a holiday ? Ah, Isabel ! look at her 
 blushes. Is it George of Clarence at last ? Is it ?" 
 
 " We see the Duke of Gloucester's cognizance," 
 whispered Anne, " and our own Nevile Bull. Per- 
 chance our cousin George, also, may " 
 
 Here she was interrupted by the sound of the 
 warder's horn, followed a moment after by the roar 
 of one of the bombards on the keep. 
 
 " At least," said Warwick, his face lighting up, 
 " that signal announces the coming of King's 
 blood, We must honour it, for it is our own. We
 
 166 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 will go forth and meet our guests your hand, 
 Countess." 
 
 And gravely and silently, and in deep, but 
 no longer gloomy thought, Warwick led the 
 way to his hall, followed by the fair sisters ; and 
 who that could have looked upon that princely 
 pair, and those lovely and radiant children, could 
 have foreseen, that in that hour, Fate, in tempting 
 the Earl once more to action, was busy on their 
 doom !
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 167 
 
 II. 
 
 COUNCILS AND MUSINGS. 
 
 THE lamp shone through the lattice of Warwick's 
 chamber at the unwonted hour of midnight, and 
 the Earl was still in deep commune with his guests. 
 The Archbishop, whom Edward, alarmed by the 
 state of the country, and the disaffection of his 
 barons, had reluctantly commissioned to mediate 
 with Warwick, was, as we have before said, one of 
 those men peculiar to the early Church. There 
 was nothing more in the title of Archbishop of 
 York than in that of the Bishop of Osnaburg, 
 (borne by the royal son of George the Third,*) 
 to prevent him who enjoyed it from leading 
 armies, guiding states, or indulging pleasure. 
 But beneath the coxcombry of George Nevile, 
 which was what he shewed most in common 
 with the courtiers of the laity, there lurked a true 
 ecclesiastic's mind. He would have made, in 
 later times, an admirable Jesuit, and no doubt, 
 
 * The late Duke of York.
 
 168 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 in his own time, a very brilliant pope. His objects 
 in his present mission were clear and perspicuous, 
 any breach between Warwick and the King must 
 necessarily weaken his own position, and the 
 power of his house was essential to all his views. 
 The object of Gloucester in his intercession, was 
 less defined, but not less personal : in smoothing 
 the way to his brother's marriage with Isabel, he 
 removed all apparent obstacle to his own with 
 Anne. And it is probable that Richard, who, 
 whatever his crimes, was far from inaccessible to 
 affection, might have really loved his early play- 
 mate, even while his ambition calculated the 
 baronies that would swell the dower of the heiress, 
 and gild the barren coronet of his duchy.* 
 
 " God's truth !" said Warwick, as he lifted his 
 eyes from the scroll in the King's writing, " ye 
 know well, princely cousin, and thou, my brother, 
 ye know well how dearly I have loved King Ed- 
 ward ; and the mother's milk overflows my heart, 
 when I read these gentle and tender words, which 
 he deigns to bestow upon his servant. My blood 
 is hasty and over hot, but a kind thought from 
 those I love puts out much fire. Sith he thus be- 
 seeches me to return to his councils, I will not be 
 sullen enough to hold back ; but, oh, Prince 
 
 * Majerus, the Flemish Chronicler, quoted by Biicke (Life 
 of Richard lit.), mentions the early attachment of Itichard to 
 Anne. They were mucli together, as children, at Middleham.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 169 
 
 Richard ! is it indeed a matter past all considera- 
 tion that your sister, the Lady Margaret, must 
 wed with the Duke of Burgundy ?" 
 
 "Warwick," replied the Prince, "thou mayst 
 know that I never looked with favour on that 
 alliance; that when Clarence bore the Bastard's 
 burgonot, I withheld my countenance from the 
 Bastard's presence. I incurred Edward's anger 
 by refusing to attend his court while the Count de 
 la Roche was his guest. And therefore you may 
 trust me when I say now that Edward, after pro- 
 mises, however rash, most solemn and binding, is 
 dishonoured for ever if he break off the contract. 
 New circumstances, too, have arisen, to make 
 what were dishonour, danger also. By the death 
 of his father, Charolois has succeeded to the Duke 
 of Burgundy's diadem. Thou knowest his war- 
 like temper, and though in a contest popular in 
 England we need fear no foe, yet thou knowest 
 also that no subsidies could be raised for strife 
 with our most profitable commercial ally. Where- 
 fore, we earnestly implore thee magnanimously 
 to forgive the past, accept Edward's assurance of 
 repentance, and be thy thought as it has been 
 ever the weal of our common country." 
 
 "I may add, also," said the Archbishop, ob- 
 serving how much Warwick was touched and 
 softened " that in returning to the helm of state, 
 our gracious King permits me to say, that, save 
 
 VOL. II. I
 
 170 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 only in the alliance with Burgundy, which touch- 
 eth his plighted word, you have full liberty to 
 name conditions, and to ask whatever grace or 
 power a^monarch can bestow." 
 
 " I name none but my Prince's confidence," 
 said Warwick, generously, "in that, all else is 
 given, and in return for that, I will make the 
 greatest sacrifice that my nature knoweth, or can 
 conceive I will mortify my familiar demon I 
 will subdue my PRIDE. If Edward can convince 
 me that it is for the good of England that his 
 sister should wed with mine antient and bitter foe, 
 I will myself do honour to his choice. But of this 
 hereafter. Enough, now that I forget past wrongs 
 in present favour. And that for peace or war, 
 I return to the side of that man whom I loved as 
 my son, before I served him as my king." 
 
 Neither Richard nor the Archbishop was pre- 
 pared for a conciliation so facile, for neither quite 
 understood that peculiar magnanimity which often 
 belongs to a vehement and hasty temper, and 
 which is as eager to forgive as prompt to take 
 offence which, ever in extremes, is not contented 
 with anything short of fiery aggression, or trust- 
 ful generosity and where it once passes over 
 an offence, seeks to oblige the offender. So, when, 
 after some further conversation on the state of the 
 country, the Earl lighted Gloucester to his cham- 
 ber, the young Prince said to himself musingly:
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 171 
 
 " Does ambition besot and blind men ? or can 
 Warwick think that Edward can ever view him but 
 as one to be destroyed when the hour is ripe ?" 
 
 Catesby, who was the Duke's chamberlain, was 
 in attendance, as the Prince unrobed: " A noble 
 castle this," said the Duke, " and one in the midst 
 of a warlike population our own countrymen of 
 York." 
 
 " It would be no mean addition to the dowry of 
 the Lady Isabel," said Catesby with his bland, false 
 smile. 
 
 " Methinks rather that the lordships of Salis- 
 bury, (and this is the chief,) pass to the Lady 
 Anne," said Richard, musingly. " No, Edward 
 were imprudent to suffer this stronghold to fall to 
 the next heir to his throne. Marked you the 
 Lady Anne her beauty is most excellent." 
 
 " Truly, your Highness," answered Catesby, un- 
 suspiciously ; " the Lady Isabel seems to me the 
 taller and the statelier." 
 
 " When man's merit and woman's beauty are 
 measured by the ell, Catesby, Anne will certainly 
 be less fair then Isabel, and Richard a dolt to Cla- 
 rence. Open the casement my dressing robe 
 good night to you !"
 
 172 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 III. 
 
 THE SISTERS. 
 
 THE next morning at an hour when modern beauty 
 falls into its first sickly sleep, Isabel and Anne 
 conversed on the same terrace, and near the same 
 spot which had witnessed their father's meditations 
 the day before. They were seated on a rude 
 bench in an angle of the wall, flanked by a low 
 heavy bastion. And from the parapet their gaze 
 might have wandered over a goodly sight, for on 
 a broad space, covered with sand and sawdust, 
 within the vast limits of the castle range, the 
 numerous knights, and youths who sought appren- 
 ticeship in arms and gallantry under the Earl, 
 Avere engaged in those martial sports which falling 
 elsewhere into disuse, the Last of the Barons king- 
 lily maintained. There, boys of fourteen, on their 
 small horses, ran against each other with blunted 
 lances. There, those of more advanced adoles- 
 cence, each following the other in a circle, rode at
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 173 
 
 the ring ; sometimes (at the word of command 
 from an old knight who had fought at Agincourt, 
 and was the preceptor in these valiant studies,) 
 leaping from their horses at full speed, and again 
 vaulting into the saddle. A few grim old warriors 
 sate by to censure or applaud. Most skilled among 
 the younger, was the son of the Lord Montagu, 
 among the maturer, the name of Marmaduke 
 Nevile was the most often shouted. If the eye 
 turned to the left, through the Barbican might be 
 seen flocks of beeves entering to supply the mighty 
 larder ; and at a smaller postern, a dark crowd of 
 mendicant friars, and the more destitute poor waited 
 their daily crumbs from the rich man's table. 
 What need of a poor law then ! the baron and the 
 abbot made the parish ! But not on these evidences 
 of wealth and state turned the eyes so familiar 
 to them, that they woke no vanity, and roused no 
 pride. 
 
 With downcast looks and a pouting lip, Isabel 
 listened to the silver voice of Anne. 
 
 " Dear sister, be just to Clarence. He cannot 
 openly defy his King and brother. Believe that 
 he would have accompanied our uncle and cousin 
 had he not deemed that their mediation would be 
 more welcome, at least to King Edward, without 
 his presence." 
 
 " But not a letter not a line !"
 
 174 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 " Art thou sure, Isabel, that he even knew of 
 the visit of the Archbishop and his brother ?" 
 
 " How could he fail to know ?" 
 
 " The Duke of Gloucester, last evening, told 
 me that the King had sent him southward." 
 
 " Was it about Clarence that the Duke whis- 
 pered to thee so softly by the oriel window ?" 
 
 " Surely, yes !" said Anne, simply. " Was not 
 Richard as a brother to us when we played as 
 children on yon greensward ?'' 
 
 " Never as a brother to me never was Richard 
 of Gloucester one whom I could think of without 
 fear, and even loathing," answered Isabel, quickly. 
 
 It was at this turn in their conversation that the 
 noiseless step of Richard himself neared the spot, 
 and hearing his own name thus discourteously 
 treated, he paused, screened from their eyes by the 
 bastion, in the angle. 
 
 " Nay, nay, sister," said Anne ; " what is there 
 in Richard that misbesecms his princely birth ?" 
 
 " I know not, but there is no youth in his eye 
 and in his heart. Even as a child he had the hard 
 will and the cold craft of grey hairs. Pray God 
 you give me not Gloucester for a brother !" 
 
 Anne sighed and smiled " Ah no," she said, 
 after a short pause " when thou art Princess of 
 Clarence, may I " 
 
 "May thou, what?"
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 175 
 
 " Pray for thec and thine in the house of God ! 
 Ah ! thou knowest not, sweet Isabel, how often at 
 morn and eve mine eyes and heart turn to the spires 
 of yonder convent :" she rose as she said this, her lip 
 quivered, and she moved on in the Apposite direc- 
 tion to that in which Richard stood, still unseen, 
 and no longer within his hearing. Isabel rose 
 also, and hastening after her, threw her arms round 
 Anne's neck, and kissed away the tears that stood 
 in those meek eyes. 
 
 " My sister my Anne ! Ah ! trust in me, thou 
 hast some secret, I know it well I have long seen 
 it. Is it possible that thou canst have placed thy 
 heart, thy pure love thou blushest ! Ah ! Anne, 
 Anne ! thou canst not have loved beneath thee." 
 
 " Nay," said Anne, with a spark of her ancestral 
 fire lighting her meek eyes through its tears, " not 
 beneath me, but above. What do I say ! Isabel, 
 ask me no more. Enough that it is a folly a 
 dream and that I could smile with pity at myself, 
 to think from what light causes love and grief can 
 spring." 
 
 " Above thee !" repeated Isabel, in amaze, " and 
 who in England is above the daughter of Earl 
 Warwick ? Not Richard of Gloucester : if so, par- 
 don my foolish tongue." 
 
 " No, not Richard though I feel kindly to- 
 wards him, and his sweet voice soothes me when I 
 listen not Richard. Ask no more."
 
 176 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 " Oh, Anne speak speak! we are not both so 
 wretched. Thou lovest not Clarence ? It is it 
 must be !" 
 
 " Canst thou think me so false and treacherous 
 a heart pledged to thee ? Clarence ! Oh no !" 
 
 " But who then who then ?" said Isabel still 
 suspiciously ; " nay, if thou wilt not speak, blame 
 thyself if I must still wrong thee." 
 
 Thus appealed to, and wounded to the quick by 
 Isabel's tone and eye, Anne at last, with a strong 
 eifort, suppressed her tears, and, taking her sister's 
 hand, said in a voice of touching solemnity " Pro- 
 mise, then, that the secret shall be ever holy ; and, 
 since I know that it will move thine anger per- 
 haps thy scorn strive to forget what I will confess 
 to thee." 
 
 Isabel for answer pressed her lips on the hand 
 she held; and the sisters, turning under the sha- 
 dow of a long row of venerable oaks, placed them- 
 selves on a little mound, fragrant with the violets 
 of spring. A different part of the landscape 
 beyond was now brought in view ; calmly slept 
 in the valley the roofs of the subject town of 
 Middleham calmly flowed through the pastures 
 the noiseless waves of Ure. Leaning on Isabel's 
 bosom, Anne thus spake, " Call to mind, sweet 
 sister, that short breathing-time in the horrors of 
 the Civil War, when a brief peace was made 
 between our father and Queen Margaret. We
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 177 
 
 were left in the palace mere children that we 
 were to play with the young Prince, and the 
 children in Margaret's train." 
 
 " I remember." 
 
 " And I was unwell, and timid, and kept aloof 
 from the sports with a girl of my own years, whom I 
 think see how faithful my memory ! they called 
 Sybill ; and Prince Edward, Henry's son, stealing 
 from the rest, sought me out ; and we sate together, 
 or walked together alone, apart from all, that day 
 and the few days we were his mother's guests. Oh ! 
 if you could have seen him and heard him then 
 so beautiful, so gentle, so wise beyond his years, 
 and yet so sweetly sad; and when we parted, he 
 bade me ever love him, and placed his ring on my 
 finger, and wept, as we kissed each other, as chil- 
 dren will." 
 
 " Children! ye were infants!" exclaimed Isabel, 
 whose wonder seemed increased by this simple tale. 
 
 " Infant though I was, I felt as if my heart 
 would break when I left him ; and then the wars 
 ensued ; and do you not remember how ill I was, 
 and like to die, when our House triumphed, and 
 the Prince and Heir of Lancaster was driven into 
 friendless exile ? From that hour my fate was fixed. 
 Smile if you please at such infant folly, but chil- 
 dren often feel more deeply than later years can 
 weet of." 
 
 i3
 
 178 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 " My sister, this is indeed a wilful invention of 
 sorrow for thine own scourge. Why, ere this, be- 
 lieve me, the boy-prince hath forgotten thy very 
 name." 
 
 "Not so, Isabel," said Anne, colouring, and 
 quickly, " and perchance, did all rest here, I 
 might have outgrown my weakness. But last year, 
 when we were at Rouen with my father " 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " One evening, on entering my chamber, I 
 found a packet how left I know not, but the 
 French King and his suite, thou rememberest, 
 made our house almost their home and in this 
 packet was a picture, and on its back these words, 
 ' Forget not the exile, who remembers thee /' " 
 
 " And that picture was Prince Edward's ?" 
 
 Anne blushed, and her bosom heaved beneath 
 the slender and high-laced gorget. After a pause, 
 looking round her, she drew forth a small minia- 
 ture, which lay on the heart that beat thus sadly, 
 and placed it in her sister's hands. 
 
 " You sec I deceive you not, Isabel. And is not 
 this a fair excuse for " 
 
 She stopped short, her modest nature shrinking 
 from comment upon the mere beauty that might 
 have won the heart. 
 
 And fair indeed was the face upon which Isabel 
 gazed admiringly, in spite of the stiff and rude art of
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 179 
 
 the limner ; full of the fire and energy which cha- 
 racterized the countenance of the mother, but with a 
 tinge of the same profound and inexpressible melan- 
 choly that gave its charm to the pensive features of 
 Henry the Sixth a face, indeed, to fascinate a 
 young eye, even if not associated with such remem- 
 brances of romance and pity. 
 
 Without saying a word, Isabel gave back the 
 picture, but she pressed the hand that took it, and 
 Anne was contented to interpret the silence into 
 sympathy. 
 
 " And now you know why I have so often in- 
 curred your anger by compassion for the adherents 
 of Lancaster ; and for this, also, Richard of Glou- 
 cester hath been endeared to me ; for fierce and 
 stern as he may be called, he hath ever been gentle 
 in his mediation for that unhappy House." 
 
 " Because it is his policy to be well with all 
 parties. My poor Anne, I cannot bid you hope ; 
 and yet, should I ever wed with Clarence, it may 
 be possible that that but you in turn will 
 chide me for ambition." 
 
 "How?" 
 
 " Clarence is heir to the throne of England, for 
 King Edward has no male children ; and the hour 
 may arrive when the son of Henry of Windsor 
 may return to his native land, not as Sovereign, 
 but as Duke of Lancaster, and thy hand may re- 
 concile him to the loss of a crown."
 
 180 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 " Would love reconcile thee to such a loss, proud 
 Isabel ?" said Anne, shaking her head and smiling 
 mournfully. 
 
 " No," answered Isabel, emphatically. 
 
 " And are men less haught than we?" said Anne. 
 "Ah ! I know not if I could love him so well 
 could he resign his rights, or even could he regain 
 them. It is his position that gives him a holiness 
 in my eyes. And this love, that must be hopeless, 
 is half pity and half respect." 
 
 At this moment a loud shout arose from the youths 
 in the yard, or sporting ground, below, and the 
 sisters, startled, and looking up, saw that the sound 
 was occasioned by the sight of the young Duke of 
 Gloucester, who was standing on the parapet near 
 the bench the demoiselles had quitted, and who 
 acknowledged the greeting by a wave of his 
 plumed cap and a lowly bend of his head ; at the 
 same time the figures of Warwick and the Arch- 
 bishop, seemingly in earnest conversation, ap- 
 peared at the end of the terrace. The sisters 
 rose hastily, and would have stolen away, but the 
 Archbishop caught a glimpse of their robes, and 
 called aloud to them. The reverent obedience, 
 at that day, of youth to relations, left the sisters no 
 option but to advance towards their uncle, which 
 they did with demure reluctance. 
 
 " Fair brother," said the Archbishop, " I would
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 181 
 
 that Gloucester were to have my stately niece 
 instead of the gaudy Clarence." 
 
 " Wherefore ?" 
 
 " Because he can protect those he loves, and 
 Clarence will ever need a protector." 
 
 " I like George not the less for that," said War- 
 wick, " for I would not have my son-in-law my 
 master." 
 
 "Master!" echoed the Archbishop, laughing, 
 " the soldan of Babylon himself, were he your 
 son-in-law, would find Lord Warwick a tolerably 
 stubborn servant !" 
 
 "And yet," said Warwick, also laughing, but 
 with a franker tone, " beshrew me, but much as I 
 approve young Gloucester, and deem him the 
 hope of the House of York, I never feel sure, 
 when we are of the same mind, whether 1 agree 
 with him, or whether he leadeth me. Ah, George ! 
 Isabel should have wedded the King, and then 
 Edward and I would have had a sweet mediator in 
 all our quarrels. But not so hath it been decreed." 
 
 There was a pause. 
 
 " Note how Gloucester steals to the side of 
 Anne. Thou mayst have him for a son-in-law, 
 though no rival to Clarence. Montagu hath hinted 
 that the Duke so aspires." 
 
 " He has his father's face well," said the Earl, 
 softly. " But yet," he added, in an altered and 
 reflective tone, " the boy is to me a riddle. That
 
 182 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 he will be bold in battle and wise in council I 
 foresee ; but would he had more of a young man's 
 honest follies ! There is a medium between Ed- 
 ward's wantonness and Richard's sanctimony ; and 
 he who in the hey-day of youth's blood scowls 
 alike upon sparkling wine and smiling woman, 
 may hide in his heart darker and more sinful 
 fancies. But fie on me ! I will not wrongfully 
 mistrust his father's son. Thou spokest of Mon- 
 tagu ; he seems to have been mighty cold to his 
 brother's wrongs ever at tho court ever sleek 
 with Villein and Woodville." 
 
 " But the better to watch thy interests ; I so 
 counselled him." 
 
 " A priest's counsel ! Hate frankly or love 
 freely is a knight's and soldier's motto. A mur- 
 rain on all double-dealing !" 
 
 The Archbishop shrugged his shoulders, and 
 applied to his nostril a small pouncet-box of dainty 
 essences. 
 
 "Come hither, my haughty Isabel," said the 
 prelate, as the demoiselles now drew near. He 
 placed his niece's arm within his own, and took 
 her aside to talk of Clarence. Richard remained 
 with Anne, and the young cousins were joined by 
 Warwick. The Earl noted in silence the soft 
 address of the eloquent prince, and his evident 
 desire to please Anne. And, strange as it may 
 seem, although he had hitherto regarded Richard
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 183 
 
 with admiration and affection, and although his 
 pride for both daughters coveted alliances not 
 less than royal, yet, in contemplating Gloucester 
 for the first time as a probable suitor to his daughter, 
 (and his favourite daughter,) the anxiety of a father 
 sharpened his penetration, and placed the character 
 of Richard before him in a different point from 
 that in which he had hitherto looked only on the 
 fearless heart and accomplished wit of his royal 
 godson.
 
 184 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 IV. 
 
 THE DESTRIEH. 
 
 IT was three days afterwards that the Earl, as, 
 according to custom, Anne knelt to him for his 
 morning blessing in the oratory, where the 
 Christian Baron at matins and vespers offered up 
 his simple worship, drew her forth into the air, 
 and said, abruptly 
 
 "Wouldst thou be happy if Richard of Glou- 
 cester were thy betrothed ?" 
 
 Anne started, and with more vivacity than 
 usually belonged to her, exclaimed, " O no, my 
 father !" 
 
 " This is no maiden's silly coyness, Anne ? It is 
 a plain yea or nay that I ask from thee !" 
 
 "Nay, then," answered Anne, encouraged by 
 her father's tone " nay, if it so please you." 
 
 " It doth please me," said the Earl, shortly ; and 
 after a pause, he added, " Yes, I am well pleased. 
 Richard gives promise of an illustrious manhood ; 
 but Anne, thou growest so like thy mother, that, 
 whenever my pride seeks to see thee great, my
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 185 
 
 heart steps in, and only prays that it may see thee 
 happy ! so much so, that I would not have given 
 thee to Clarence, whom it likes me well to view as 
 Isabel's betrothed, for, to her, greatness and bliss are 
 one ; and she is of firm nature, and can rule in her 
 own house ; but thou, where out of romaunt can I 
 find a lord loving enough for thee, soft child ?" 
 
 Inexpressibly affected, Anne threw herself on 
 her father's breast and wept. He caressed and 
 soothed her fondly ; and, before her emotion was 
 well over, Gloucester and Isabel joined them. 
 
 " My fair cousin," said the Duke, " hath pro- 
 mised to shew me thy renowned steed, Saladin; and 
 since, on quitting thy halls, I go to my apprentice- 
 ship in war on the turbulent Scottish frontier, I 
 would fain ask thee for a Destrier of the same 
 race as that which bears the thunderbolt of War- 
 wick's wrath through the storm of battle." 
 
 " A steed of the race of Saladin," answered the 
 Earl, leading the way to the destrier's stall, apart 
 from all other horses, and rather a chamber of the 
 castle than a stable, " were indeed a boon worthy a 
 soldier's gift and a prince's asking. But, alas ! 
 Saladin, like myself, is sonless the last of a long 
 line." 
 
 " His father, methinks, fell for us on the field of 
 Touton. Was it not so ? I have heard Edward 
 say, that when the archers gave way, and the vic- 
 tory more than wavered, thou, dismounting, didst 
 slay thy steed with thine own hand, and kissing
 
 186 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 the cross of thy sword, swore, on that spot, to stem 
 the rush of the foe, and win Edward's crown or 
 Warwick's grave."* 
 
 " It was so ; and the shout of my merry men, 
 when they saw me amongst their ranks on foot 
 all llight forbid was Malech's death-dirge ! It is 
 a wondrous race that of Malech and his son Sala- 
 din, (continued the Earl, smiling.) When my an- 
 cestor, Aymer de Nevile, led his troops to the 
 Holy Land, under Coeur de Lion, it was his fate to 
 capture a lady beloved by the mighty Saladin. 
 Need I say that Aymer, under a flag of truce, 
 escorted her ransomless, her veil never raised from 
 her face, to the tent of the Saracen King. Saladin, 
 too gracious for an Infidel, made him tarry awhile, 
 an honoured guest ; and Aymer's chivalry became 
 sorely tried, for the lady he had delivered loved 
 and tempted him ; but the good knight prayed and 
 fasted, and defied Satan and all his works. The 
 lady (so runs the legend) grew wroth at the pious 
 crusader's disdainful coldness ; and when Aymer 
 returned to his comrades, she sent, amidst the gifts 
 of the soldan, two coal-black steeds, male and 
 mare, over which some foul and weird spells had 
 
 * " Every Palm Sunday, the day on which the Battle of 
 Teuton was fought, a rough figure, called the Red Horse, on 
 the side of a hill in Warwickshire, is scoured out. This is 
 suggested to be done in commemoration of the horse which 
 the Earl of Warwick slew on that day, determined to vanquish 
 or die." lioberts's York and Lancaster, vol. i., p. 429.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 187 
 
 been duly muttered. Their beauty, speed, art, and 
 fierceness were a marvel. And Aymer, unsuspect- 
 ing, prized the boon, and selected the male destrier 
 for his war-horse. Great were the feats, in many 
 a field, which my forefather wrought, bestriding 
 his black charger. But one fatal day, on which 
 the sudden war-trump made him forget his morn- 
 ing ave, the beast had power over the Christian, 
 and bore him, against bit and spur, into the thickest 
 of the foe. He did all a knight can do against 
 many (pardon his descendant's vaunting, so runs 
 the tale) and the Christians for awhile beheld him 
 solitary in the melee, mowing down moon and 
 turban. Then the crowd closed, and the good 
 knight was lost to sight. * To the rescue !' cried 
 bold King Richard, and on rushed the crusaders 
 to Aymer's help ; when lo ! and suddenly, the 
 ranks severed, and the black steed emerged ! 
 Aymer still on the selle, but motionless, and his 
 helm battered and plumeless his brand broken 
 his arm drooping. On came man and horse, on 
 charging on, not against Infidel, but Christian. On 
 dashed the steed, I say, with fire bursting from 
 eyes and nostrils, and the pike of his chaffron bent 
 lance-like against the crusaders' van. The foul 
 fiend seemed in the destrier's rage and puissance. 
 He bore right against Richard's standard bearer, 
 and down went the lion and the cross. He charged 
 the King himself ; and Richard, unwilling to harm 
 his own dear soldier Aymer, halted wondering, till
 
 188 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 the pike of the destrier pierced his own charger 
 through the barding, and the King lay rolling in 
 the dust. A panic seized the cross-men they 
 fled the Saracens pursued and still with the 
 Saracens came the black steed and the power- 
 less rider. At last, when the crusaders reached 
 the camp, and the flight ceased, there, halted also 
 Aymer. Not a man dared near him. He spoke 
 not none spoke to him till a holy priest and 
 palmer approached and sprinkled the good knight 
 and the black barb with holy water, and exorcised 
 both the spell broke, and Aymer dropped to the 
 earth. They unbraced his helm he was cold and 
 stark. The fierce steed had but borne a dead man." 
 
 " Holy Paul !" cried Gloucester^ with seeming 
 sanctimony, though a covert sneer played round the 
 firm beauty of his pale lips " a notable tale, and 
 one that proveth much of Sacred Truth, now lightly 
 heeded. But, verily, Lord Earl, I should have 
 little loved a steed with such a pedigree!" 
 
 " Hear the rest," said Isabel " King Richard 
 ordered the destrier to be slain forthwith ; but 
 the holy palmer who had exorcised it, forbade 
 the sacrifice. ' Mighty shall be the service,' said 
 the reverend man, * which the posterity of this 
 steed shall render to thy royal race, and great 
 glory shall they give to the sons of Nevile. Let 
 the war-horse, now duly exorcised from infidel 
 spells, live long to bear a Christian warrior !' " 
 
 " And so," quoth the Earl, taking up the tale
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 189 
 
 " so mare and horse were brought by Aymer's 
 squires to his English hall ; and Aymer's son, Sir 
 Reginald, bore the cross, and bestrode the fatal 
 steed, without fear and without scathe. From that 
 hour the House of Nevile rose amain, in fame and 
 in puissance, and the legend further saith, that the 
 same palmer encountered Sir Reginald at Joppa, 
 bade him treasure that race of war-steeds as his 
 dearest heritage, for with that race his own should 
 flourish and depart ; and the sole one of the In- 
 fidel's spells which could not be broken, was that 
 which united the gift generation after generation, 
 for weal or for woe, for honour or for doom 
 to the fate of Aymer and his house. ' And,' added 
 the palmer, ' as with woman's love and woman's 
 craft was woven the indissoluble charm, so shall 
 woman, whether in craft or in love, ever shape the 
 fortunes of thee and thine.' " 
 
 " As yet/' said the Prince, " the prophecy is 
 fulfilled in a golden sense, for nearly all thy wide 
 baronies, I trow, have come to thee through the 
 female side. A woman's hand brought to the 
 Nevile this castle and its lands.* From a woman 
 came the heritage of Monthermer and Montagu, 
 
 * Middleham Castle was built by Robert Fitz Ranulph, 
 grandson of Ribald, younger brother of the Earl of Bretagne 
 and Richmond, nephew to the Conqueror. The founder's line 
 failed in male heirs, and the heiress married Robert Nevile, 
 son of Lord Raby. Warwick's father held the earldom of 
 Salisbury in right of his wife, the heiress of Thomas de Mont- 
 acute.
 
 190 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 and Salisbury's famous earldom ; and the dower of 
 thy peerless countess was the broad domains of 
 Beauchamp." 
 
 "And a woman's craft, young Prince, wrought my 
 King's displeasure ! But enough of these dissour's 
 tales : behold the son of poor Malech, whom, 
 forgetting all such legends, I slew at Teuton. Ho ! 
 Saladin greet thy master !" 
 
 They stood now in the black steed's stall an 
 ample and high-vaulted space, for halter never 
 insulted the fierce destrier's mighty neck, which 
 the God of Battles had clothed in thunder. A 
 marble cistern contained his lymphid drink, and 
 in a gilded manger the finest wheaten bread was 
 mingled with the oats of Flanders. On entering, 
 they found young George, Montagu's son, with 
 two or three boys, playing familiarly with the 
 noble animal, who had all the affectionate docility 
 inherited from an Arab origin. But at the 
 sound of Warwick's voice, its ears rose, its mane 
 dressed itself, and with a short neigh it came to 
 his feet, and kneeling down, in slow and stately 
 grace, licked its master's hand. So perfect and so 
 matchless a steed never had knight bestrode ! Its 
 hide without one white hair, and glossy as the 
 sheenest satin; a lady's tresses were scarcely 
 finer than the hair of its noble mane ; the exceed- 
 ing smallness of its head, its broad frontal, the re- 
 markable and almost human intelligence of its eye, 
 seemed actually to elevate its conformation above
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 191 
 
 that of its species. Though the race had in- 
 creased, generation after generation, in size and 
 strength, Prince Richard still marvelled (when, 
 obedient to a sign from Warwick, the destrier 
 rose, and leant its head, with a sort of melancholy 
 and quiet tenderness, upon the Earl's shoulder) 
 that a horse, less in height and bulk than the 
 ordinary battle steed, could bear the vast weight of 
 the giant Earl in his ponderous mail. But his 
 surprise ceased when the Earl pointed out to him 
 the immense strength of the steed's ample loins, 
 the sinewy cleanness, the iron muscle, of the stag- 
 like legs, the bull-like breadth of chest, and the 
 swelling power of the shining neck." 
 
 " And after all," added the Earl, " both in man 
 and beast, the spirit and the race, not the stature 
 and the bulk, bring the prize. Mort Dieu, Richard ! 
 it often shames me of mine own thews and broad 
 breast I had been more vain of laurels had I 
 been shorter by the head !" 
 
 " Nevertheless," said young George of Montagu, 
 with a page's pertness, " I had rather have thine 
 inches than Prince Richard's, and thy broad breast 
 than his Grace's short neck." 
 
 The Duke of Gloucester turned as if a snake had 
 stunghim. He gave but one glance to the speaker, but 
 that glance lived for ever in the boy's remembrance, 
 and the young Montagu turned pale and trem- 
 bled, even before he heard the Earl's stern rebuke. 
 
 " Young magpies chatter, boy young eagles in
 
 192 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 silence measure the space between the eyrie and 
 the sun !" 
 
 The boy hung his head, and would have 
 slunk off, but Richard detained him with a gentle 
 hand " My fair young cousin," said he, " thy words 
 gall no sore, and if ever thou and I charge side by 
 side into the foeman's ranks, thou shalt compre- 
 hend what thy uncle designed to say, how in the 
 hour of strait and need, we measure men's stature 
 not by the body but the soul !" 
 
 " A noble answer," whispered Anne, with some- 
 thing like sisterly admiration. 
 
 " TOO noble," said the more ambitious Isabel, 
 in the same voice, " for Clarence's future wife not 
 to fear Clarence's dauntless brother." 
 
 "And so," said the Prince, quitting the stall 
 with Warwick, while the girls still lingered behind, 
 " so Saladin hath no son ! Wherefore ? Can you 
 mate him with no bride ?" 
 
 " Faith," answered the Earl, " the females of 
 his race sleep in yonder dell, their burial place, 
 and the proud beast disdains all meaner loves, 
 Nay, were it not so, to continue the breed if 
 adulterated, were but to mar it." 
 
 " You care little for the legend, meseems." 
 
 " Pardieu I at times, yes, overmuch ; but in 
 sober moments, I think that the brave man who 
 does his duty lacks no wizard prophecy to fulfil 
 his doom ; and whether in prayer or in death, in 
 fortune or defeat, his soul goes straight to God !"
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 193 
 
 " Umph," said Richard, musingly, and there 
 was a pause. 
 
 " Warwick," resumed the Prince, " doubtless 
 even on your return to London, the Queen's enmity 
 and her mother's will not cease. Clarence loves 
 Isabel, but Clarence knows not how to persuade 
 the King and rule the King's womankind. Thou 
 knowest how I have stood aloof from all the fac- 
 tions of the Court. Unhappily I go to the Borders, 
 
 and can but slightly serve thee. But " (he 
 
 stopped short, and sighed heavily.) 
 
 " Speak on, Prince." 
 
 " In a word, then, if I were thy son, Anne's 
 husband I see I see I see " (thrice repeated 
 the Prince, with a vague dreaminess in his eye, 
 and stretching forth his hand) "a Future that 
 might defy all foes, opening to me and thee !" 
 
 Warwick hesitated in some embarrassment. 
 
 " My gracious and princely cousin," he said, at 
 length, " this proffer is indeed sweet incense to a 
 father's pride. But pardon me, as yet, noble 
 Richard, thou art so young that the King and the 
 world would blame me did I suffer my ambition to 
 listen to such temptation. Enough at present, if 
 all disputes between our House and the King can 
 be smoothed and laid at rest, without provoking 
 new ones. Nay, pardon me, Prince, let this 
 matter cease, at least, till thy return from the 
 Borders." 
 
 VOL. II. K
 
 194 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 " May I take with me hope ?" 
 
 " Nay," said Warwick, " thou knowest that I 
 am a plain man ; to bid thee hope, were to plight 
 my word. And," he added, seriously, " there be 
 reasons grave, and well to be considered, why both 
 the daughters of a subject should not wed with 
 their King's brothers. Let this cease now, I pray 
 thee, sweet lord." 
 
 Here the demoiselles joined their father, and the 
 conference was over ; but when Richard, an hour 
 after, stood musing alone on the battlements, he 
 muttered to himself " Thou art a fool, stout Earl, 
 not to have welcomed the union between thy 
 power and my wit. Thou goest to a Court where, 
 without wit, power is nought. Who may foresee 
 the Future ? Marry, that was a wise ancient fable, 
 that he who seized and bound Proteus, could ex- 
 tract from the changeful god, the prophecy of the 
 days to come. Yea ! the man who can seize Fate, 
 can hear its voice predict to him. And by my 
 own heart and brain, which never yet relinquished 
 what affection yearned for or thought aspired to, 
 I read, as in a book, Anne, that thou shalt be 
 mine; and that where wave on yon battlements 
 the ensigns of Beauchamp, Monthermer, and 
 Nevile, the Boar of Gloucester shall liege it over 
 their broad baronies and hardy vassals." 
 
 END OF BOOK V.
 
 BOOK THE SIXTH. 
 
 WHEREIN ARE OPENED SOME GLIMPSES OF THE FATE, BELOW, 
 THAT ATTENDS THOSE WHO ARE BETTER THAN OTHERS, 
 AND THOSE WHO DESIRE TO MAKE OTHERS BETTER. LOVE, 
 DEMAGOGUT, AND SCIENCE ALL EQUALLY OFFSPRING OF 
 
 THE SAME PROLIFIC DELUSION VIZ., THAT MEAN SOULS 
 
 (THE EARTH'S MAJORITY) ARE WORTH THE HOPE AND 
 THE AGONY OF NOBLE SOULS, THE EVERLASTINGLY SUFFER- 
 ING AND ASPIRING FEW.
 
 BOOK THE SIXTH. 
 
 I. 
 
 NEW DISSENSIONS. 
 
 WE must pass over some months. Warwick and 
 his family had returned to London, and the meet- 
 ing between Edward and the Earl, had been 
 cordial and affectionate. Warwick was reinstated 
 in the offices which gave him apparently the 
 supreme rule in England. The Princess Margaret 
 had left England, as the bride of Charles the 
 Bold ; and the Earl had attended the procession, 
 in honour of her nuptials. The King, agreeably 
 with the martial objects he had had long at heart, 
 had then declared war on Louis XL, and parlia- 
 ment was addressed, and troops were raised for 
 that impolitic purpose.* To this war, however, 
 Warwick was inflexibly opposed. He pointed out 
 
 * Parliamentary Rolls, 623. The fact in the text has been 
 neglected by most historians.
 
 198 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 the madness of withdrawing from England all her 
 best affected chivalry, at a time when the ad- 
 herents of Lancaster, still powerful, would require 
 no happier occasion to raise the Red Rose banner. 
 He shewed how hollow was the hope of steady aid 
 from the hot, but reckless and unprincipled Duke of 
 Burgundy, and how different now was the condition 
 of France under a King of consummate sagacity, and 
 with an overflowing treasury, to its distracted state 
 in the former conquests of the English. This oppo- 
 sition to the King's will, gave every opportunity for 
 Warwick's enemies to renew their old accusation 
 of secret and treasonable amity with Louis. 
 Although the proud and hasty Earl had not only 
 forgiven the affront put upon him by Edward, but 
 had sought to make amends for his own intem- 
 perate resentment, by public attendance on the 
 ceremonials that accompanied the betrothal of the 
 Princess, it was impossible for Edward ever 
 again to love the minister who had defied his 
 power, and menaced his Crown. His humour and 
 his suspicions broke forth despite the restraint that 
 policy dictated to him ; and in the disputes upon 
 the invasion of France, a second and more deadly 
 breach between Edward and his minister must have 
 yawned, had not events suddenly and unexpectedly 
 proved the wisdom of Warwick's distrust of Bur- 
 gundy. Louis XL bought off the Duke of Bre- 
 tagne, patched up a peace with Charles the Bold,
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 199 
 
 and thus frustrated all the schemes, and broke all 
 the alliances of Edward at the very moment his 
 military preparations were ripe.* 
 
 Still the angry feelings that the dispute had oc- 
 casioned between Edward and the Earl were not 
 removed with the cause ; and, under pretence of 
 guarding against hostilities from Louis, the King 
 requested Warwick to depart to his government of 
 Calais, the most important and honourable post, it 
 is true, which a subject could then hold ; but War- 
 wick considered the request as a pretext for his 
 removal from the Court. A yet more irritating 
 and insulting cause of offence was found in Ed- 
 ward's withholding his consent to Clarence's often- 
 urged demand for permission to wed with the Lady 
 Isabel. It is true that this refusal was accom- 
 panied with the most courteous protestations of 
 respect for the Earl, and placed only upon the 
 general ground of state policy. 
 
 " My dear George," Edward would say, " the 
 heiress of Lord Warwick is certainly no mal-alliance 
 for [a King's brother ; but the safety of the throne 
 imperatively demands, that my brothers should 
 strengthen my rule, by connexions with foreign 
 potentates. I, it is true, married a subject, and 
 see all the troubles that have sprung from my 
 boyish passion ! No, no ! Go to Bretagne. The 
 Duke hath a fair daughter, and we will make up for 
 * W. VVyr, 518.
 
 200 THE LAST OF THE BAEONS. 
 
 any scantiness in the dower. Weary me no more, 
 George. Fiat voluntas mea /" 
 
 But the motives assigned were not those which 
 influenced the King's refusal. Reasonably enough, 
 he dreaded that the next male heir to his crown 
 should wed the daughter of the subject who had 
 given that crown, and might at any time take it 
 away. He knew Clarence to be giddy, unprin- 
 cipled, and vain. Edward's faith in Warwick was 
 shaken by the continual and artful representations 
 of the Queen and her family. He felt that the 
 alliance between Clarence and the Earl would be 
 the union of two interests, almost irresistible, if 
 once arrayed against his own. 
 
 But Warwick, who penetrated into the true 
 reasons for Edward's obstinacy, was yet more re- 
 sentful against the reasons than the obstinacy itself. 
 The one galled him through his affections, the 
 other through his pride ; and the first were as 
 keen as the last was morbid. He was the more 
 chafed, inasmuch as his anxiety of father became 
 aroused. Isabel was really attached to Clarence, 
 who, with all his errors, possessed every superficial 
 attraction that graced his house ; gallant and hand- 
 some, gay and joyous, and with manners that 
 made him no less popular than Edward himself. 
 
 And if Isabel's affections were not deep, disin- 
 terested, and tender, like those of Anne, they were 
 strengthened by a pride which she inherited from
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 201 
 
 her father, and a vanity which she took from her 
 sex. It was galling in the extreme to feel that the 
 loves between her and Clarence were the Court 
 gossip, and the king's refusal the Court's jest. Her 
 health gave way, and pride and love both gnawed 
 at her heart. 
 
 It happened, unfortunately for the King and for 
 Warwick, that Gloucester, whose premature acute- 
 ness and sagacity would have the more served both, 
 inasmuch as the views he had formed in regard to 
 Anne, would have blended his interest, in some 
 degree, with that of the Duke of Clarence, and 
 certainly with the object of conciliation between 
 Edward and his minister, it happened, we say, 
 unfortunately, that Gloucester was still absent with 
 the forces employed on the Scottish frontier, whither 
 he had repaired on quitting Middleham, and where 
 his extraordinary military talents found their first 
 brilliant opening, and he was therefore absent from 
 London during all the disgusts he might have re- 
 moved, and the intrigues he might have frustrated. 
 But the interests of the House of Warwick, 
 during the Earl's sullen and indignant sojourn at 
 his government of Calais, were not committed to 
 unskilful hands ; and Montagu and the Arch- 
 bishop were well fitted to cope with Lord Rivers 
 and the Duchess of Bedford. 
 
 Between these able brothers, one day, at the 
 More, an important conference took place. 
 K3
 
 202 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 " I have sought you," said Montagu, with more 
 than usual care upon his brow " I have sought you 
 in consequence of an event that may lead to issues 
 of no small moment, whether for good or evil. 
 Clarence has suddenly left England for Calais." 
 
 " I know it, Montagu ; the Duke confided to 
 me his resolution to proclaim himself old enough 
 to marry and discreet enough to choose for him- 
 self." 
 
 " And you approved ?" 
 
 " Certes ; and, sooth to say, I brought him to 
 that modest opinion of his own capacities. What 
 is more still, I propose to join him at Calais !" 
 
 " George !" 
 
 " Look not so scared, O valiant Captain, who 
 never lost a battle where the church meddles all 
 prospers. Listen !" And the young prelate gathered 
 himself up from his listless posture, and spoke with 
 earnest unction " Thou knowest that I do not 
 much busy myself in lay schemes when I do, the 
 object must be great. Now, Montagu, I have of 
 late, narrowly and keenly watched that spidery 
 web which ye call a Court, and I see that the 
 spider will devour the wasp, unless the wasp boldly 
 break the web for womancraft I call the spider, 
 and soldier-pride I style the wasp. To speak 
 plainly, these Woodvilles must be bravely breasted 
 and detemiinately abashed. I do not mean that 
 we can deal with the King's wife and her family as
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 203 
 
 with any other foes ; but we must convince them 
 that they cannot cope with us, and that their in- 
 terest will best consist in acquiescing to that con- 
 dition of things which places the rule of England 
 in the hands of the Neviles." 
 
 " My own thought, if I saw the way !" 
 " I see the way in this alliance ; the Houses of 
 York and Warwick must become so indissolubly 
 united, that attempt to injure the one, must destroy 
 both. The Queen and the Woodvilles plot against 
 us ; we must raise in the King's family a counter- 
 poise to their machinations. It brings no scandal 
 on the Queen to conspire against Warwick, but it 
 would ruin her in the eyes of England to conspire 
 against the King's brother ; and Clarence and War- 
 wick must be as one. This is not all ! If our 
 sole aid was in giddy George, we should but but- 
 tress our house with a weathercock. This con- 
 nexion is but as a part of the grand scheme on 
 which I have set my heart Clarence shah 1 wed 
 Isabel, Gloucester wed Anne, and (let thy ambi- 
 tious heart beat high, Montagu) the King's eldest 
 daughter shall wed thy son the male representa- 
 tive of our triple honours. Ah, thine eyes sparkle 
 now ! Thus the whole royalty of England shall 
 centre in the Houses of Nevile and York ; and the 
 Woodvilles will be caught and hampered in their 
 own meshes their resentment impotent ; for how 
 can Elizabeth stir against us, if her daughter be
 
 204 THE LAST OF TIIE BARONS. 
 
 betrothed to the son of Montagu, the nephew of 
 Warwick. Clarence, beloved by the shallow Com- 
 mons;* Gloucester, adored both by the army and 
 the church ; and Montagu and Warwick, the two 
 great captains of the age is not this a combina- 
 tion of power, that may defy Fate ?" 
 
 " Oh, George !" said Montagu, admiringly, " what 
 pity that the church should spoil such a statesman !" 
 
 " Thou art profane, Montagu ; the church spoils 
 no man the church leads and guides ye all ; and, 
 mark, I look farther still. I would have intimate 
 league with France ; I would strengthen ourselves 
 with Spain and the German Emperor; I would 
 buy, or seduce the votes of the sacred college ; I 
 would have thy poor brother, whom thou so pitiest 
 because he has no son to marry a King's daughter 
 no daughter to wed with a King's son I 
 would have thy unworthy brother, Montagu, the 
 Father of the whole Christian world, and, from the 
 chair of the Vatican, watch over the weal of king- 
 doms. And now, seest thou why with to-mor- 
 row's sun I depart for Calais, and lend my voice 
 in aid of Clarence's, for the first knot in this com- 
 plicated bond?" 
 
 * Singular as it may seem to those who know not that popu- 
 larity is given to the vulgar qualities of men, and that where a 
 noble nature becomes popular (a rare occurrence), it is despite 
 the nobleness not because of it, Clarence was a popular idol, 
 even to the time of his death. Croi/l. 562.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BAIIONS. 205 
 
 " But, will Warwick consent while the King 
 opposes? Will his pride " 
 
 " His pride serves us here ; for, so long as Cla- 
 rence did not dare to gainsay the King, Warwick, 
 in truth, might well disdain to press his daughter's 
 hand upon living man. The King opposes, but 
 with what right ? Warwick's pride will but lead 
 him, if well addressed, to defy affront, and to resist 
 dictation. Besides, our brother has a woman's 
 heart to his children; and Isabel's face is pale, and 
 that will plead more than all my eloquence." 
 
 " But can the King forgive your intercession, 
 and Warwick's contumacy ?" 
 
 "Forgive! the marriage once over, what is 
 left for him to do ? He is then one with us, and 
 when Gloucester returns all will be smooth again 
 smooth for the second and more important nup- 
 tials and the second shall preface the third; 
 meanwhile, you return to the Court. To these 
 ceremonials you need be no party : keep but thy 
 handsome son from breaking his neck in over- 
 riding his hobby, and ' bide thy time !' " 
 
 Agreeably with the selfish, but sagacious policy, 
 the Prelate thus detailed, he departed the next day 
 for Calais, where Clarence was already urging his 
 suit with the ardent impatience of amorous youth. 
 The Archbishop found, however, that Warwick was 
 more reluctant than he had anticipated to suffer 
 his daughter to enter any House without the con-
 
 206 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 sent of its chief, nor would the Earl, in all pro- 
 bability, have acceded to the prayers of the princely 
 suitor, had not Edward, enraged at the flight of 
 Clarence, and worked upon by the artful Queen, 
 committed the imprudence of writing an intem- 
 perate and menacing letter to the Earl, which 
 called up all the passions of the haughty Warwick. 
 
 " What !" he exclaimed, " thinks this ungrateful 
 man not only to dishonour me, by his method of 
 marrying his sisters, but will he also play the tyrant 
 with me in the disposal of mine own daughter ! 
 He threats ! he ! enough. It is due to me to 
 shew that there lives no man whose threats I have 
 not the heart to defy !" And the Prelate, finding 
 him in this mood, had no longer any difficulty in 
 winning his consent. This ill-omened marriage 
 was, accordingly, celebrated with great and regal 
 pomp at Calais, and the first object of the Arch- 
 bishop was attained. 
 
 While thus stood affairs between the two great 
 factions of the state, those discontents which War- 
 wick's presence at Court had awhile laid at rest, 
 again spread, broad and far, throughout the land. 
 The luxury and indolence of Edward's disposition, 
 in ordinary times, always surrendered him to the 
 guidance of others. In the commencement of his 
 reign he was eminently popular, and his govern- 
 ment, though stern, suited to the times ; for then 
 the presiding influence was that of Lord Warwick.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 207 
 
 As the Queen's counsels prevailed over the consum- 
 mate experience and masculine vigour of the Earl, 
 the King's government lost both popularity and 
 respect, except only in the Metropolis ; and if, at the 
 close of his reign, it regained all its earlier favour 
 with the people, it must be principally ascribed to 
 the genius of Hastings, then England's most power- 
 ful subject, and whose intellect calmly moved all the 
 springs of action. But now everywhere the royal 
 authority was weakened ; and while Edward was 
 feasting at Shene, and Warwick absent at Calais, 
 the Provinces were exposed to all the abuses which 
 most gall a population. The Poor complained that 
 undue exactions were made on them by the Hos- 
 pitals, Abbeys, and Barons ; the Church complained 
 that the Queen's relations had seized and spent 
 church moneys ; the men of birth and merit com- 
 plained of the advancement of new men who had 
 done no service ; and all these several discontents 
 fastened themselves upon the odious Woodvilles, as 
 the cause of all. The second breach now, noto- 
 rious, between the King and the all-beloved War- 
 wick, was a new aggravation of the popular hatred 
 to the Queen's family, and seemed to give occa- 
 sion for the malcontents to appear with impunity, 
 at least so far as the Earl was concerned : it was, 
 then, at this critical time that the circumstances we 
 are about to relate occurred.
 
 208 THE LAST OP THE BARONS. 
 
 II. 
 
 THE WOULD-BE IMPROVERS OF JOVE S TOOT-BALL, EARTH 
 THE SAD FATHER AND THE SAD CHILD THE FAIR 
 RIVALS. 
 
 ADAM WARNER was at work on his crucible when 
 the servitor commissioned to attend him opened 
 the chamber door, and a man dressed in the black 
 gown of a student entered. 
 
 He approached the alchemist, and after surveying 
 him for a moment in a silence that seemed not 
 without contempt, said, " What, Master Warner, 
 are you so wedded to your new studies, that you 
 have not a word to bestow on an old friend?" 
 
 Adam turned, and after peevishly gazing at the 
 intruder a few moments, his face brightened up 
 into recognition. 
 
 " En iterum /" he said. " Again, bold Robin 
 Hilyard, and in a scholar's garb. Ha ! doubtless 
 thou hast learned, ere this, that peaceful studies 
 do best ensure man's weal below, and art come to 
 labour with me in the high craft of mind-work !"
 
 THE LAST OP THE BARONS. 209 
 
 " Adam," quoth Hilyard, " ere I answer, tell 
 me this Thou, with thy science wouldst change 
 the world, art thou a jot nearer to thy end?" 
 
 " Wcll-a-day," said poor Adam, " you know 
 little what I have undergone ; for danger to myself 
 by rack and gibbet, I say naught. Man's body is 
 fair prey to cruelty, and what a king spares to-day 
 the worm shall gnaw to-morrow. But mine inven- 
 tion my Eureka look !" and stepping aside, he 
 lifted a cloth, and exhibited the mangled remains 
 of the unhappy model. 
 
 "I am forbid to restore it," continued Adam, 
 dolefully. " I must work day and night to make 
 gold, and the gold comes not ; and my only change 
 of toil is when the Queen bids me construct little 
 puppet-boxes for her children ! How, then, can I 
 change the world ? And thou," he added, doubt- 
 ingly and eagerly " thou, with thy plots and strata- 
 gem, and active demagoguy, thinkest thou that thou 
 hast changed the world, or extracted one drop of 
 evil out of the mixture of gall and hyssop Man is 
 born to drink ?" 
 
 Hilyard was silent, and the two World-Bettcrers 
 the Philosopher and the Demagogue gazed on 
 each other, half in sympathy, half contempt. At 
 last Robin said 
 
 " Mine old friend, Hope sustains us both ; and 
 in the Wilderness we yet behold the Pisgah ! But
 
 210 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 to my business. Doubtless thou art permitted to 
 visit Henry in his prison." 
 
 "Not so," replied Adam; "and for the rest, 
 since I now eat King Edward's bread, and enjoy 
 what they call his protection, ill would it beseem 
 me to lend myself to plots against his throne." 
 
 "Ah! man man man," exclaimed Hilyard, 
 bitterly, " thou art like all the rest scholar or serf, 
 the same slave ; a king's smile bribes thee from a 
 people's service !" 
 
 Before Adam could reply, a panel in the 
 wainscot slid back, and the bald head of a friar 
 peered into the room. " Son Adam," said the 
 holy man, " I crave your company an instant, oro 
 vestrem aurem ;" and with this abominable piece 
 of Latinity the Friar vanished. 
 
 With a resigned and mournful shrug of the shoul- 
 ders, Adam walked across the room, when Hilyard, 
 arresting his progress, said, crossing himself, and in 
 a subdued and fearful whisper, " Is not that Friar 
 Bungey, the notable magician ?" 
 
 " Magician or not," answered Warner, with a lip 
 of inexpressible contempt and a heavy sigh, " God 
 pardon his mother for giving birth to such a numb- 
 skull !" and with this pious and charitable ejacula- 
 tion Adam disappeared in the adjoining chamber, 
 appropriated to the friar. 
 
 " Hum," soliloquized Hilyard, " they say that 
 Friar Bungey is employed by the witch Duchess
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 211 
 
 in everlasting diabolisms against her foes. A peep 
 into his den might suffice me for a stirring tale to 
 the people." 
 
 No sooner did this daring desire arise, than the 
 hardy Robin resolved to gratify it ; and stealing on 
 tiptoe along the wall, he peered cautiously through 
 the aperture made by the sliding panel. An 
 enormous stuffed lizard hung from the ceiling, and 
 various strange reptiles, dried into mummy, 
 were ranged around, and glared at the spy with 
 green glass eyes. A huge book lay open on a 
 tripod stand, and a caldron seethed over a slow 
 and dull fire. A sight yet more terrible presently 
 awaited the rash beholder. 
 
 " Adam," said the Friar, laying his broad palm 
 on the student's reluctant shoulders, "inter sa- 
 pcjites" 
 
 " Sapientes, brother," groaned Adam. 
 
 " That's the old form, Adam," quoth the Friar, 
 superciliously " sapentes is the last improvement. 
 I say, between wise men there is no envy. Our 
 noble and puissant patroness, the Duchess of Bed- 
 ford, hath committed to me a task that promiseth 
 much profit. I have worked at it night and day 
 stotis jilibus" 
 
 " O, man, what lingo speakest thou ? stotis 
 
 iiibus r 
 
 " Tush, if it is not good Latin it does as well, 
 son Adam. I say I have worked at it night and
 
 212 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 day, and it is now advanced enow for experiment. 
 But tliou art going to sleep." 
 
 " Dispatch speak out speak on !" said Adam, 
 desperately " what is thy achievement ?" 
 
 " See !" answered the Friar, majestically ; and 
 drawing aside a black pall, he exhibited to the 
 eyes of Adam, and to the more startled gaze of 
 Robin Hilyard, a pale, cadaverous, corpse-like 
 image, of pigmy proportions, but with features 
 moulded into a coarse caricature of the lordly coun- 
 tenance of the Earl of Warwick. 
 
 " There," said the Friar, complacently, and rub- 
 bing his hands; " that is no piece of bungling, eh ! 
 As like the stout Earl as one pea to another." 
 
 " And for what hast thou kneaded up all this 
 waste of wax ?" asked Adam. " Forsooth I knew 
 not you had so much of ingenious art; algates, 
 the toy is somewhat ghastly." 
 
 " Ho, ho !" quoth the Friar, laughing so as to 
 shew a set of jagged, discoloured fangs from ear to 
 ear, " surely thou, who art so notable a wizard and 
 scholar, knowest for what purpose we image forth 
 our enemies. Whatever the Duchess inflicts upon 
 this figure, the Earl of Warwick, whom it repre- 
 senteth, will feel through his bones and marrow 
 waste wax, waste man !" 
 
 " Thou art a devil to do this thing, and a block- 
 head to think it, O miserable friar !" exclaimed 
 Adam, roused from all his gentleness.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 213 
 
 " Ha !" cried the Friar, no less vehemently, and 
 his burly face purple with passion, "dost thou 
 think to bandy words with me ? Wretch ! I will 
 set goblins to pinch thee black and blue. I will 
 drag thee at night over all the jags of Moimt 
 Pepanon, at the tail of a mad nightmare. I will 
 put aches in all thy bones, and the blood in thy 
 veins shall run into sores and blotches. Am I not 
 Friar Bungey ? and what art thou ?" 
 
 At these terrible denunciations, the sturdy Robin, 
 though far less superstitious than most of his con- 
 temporaries, w r as seized with a trembling from 
 head to foot ; and expecting to see goblins and 
 imps start forth from the walls, he retired 
 hastily from his hiding place, and, without waiting 
 for further commune with Warner, softly opened 
 the chamber door, and stole down the stairs. Adam, 
 however, bore the storm unquailingly, and when the 
 holy man paused to take breath, he said, calmly 
 
 " Verily, if thou canst do these things, there 
 must be secrets in Nature, which I have not yet 
 discovered. Howbeit, though thou art free to try 
 all thou canst against me, thy threats make it 
 necessary that this communication between us 
 should be nailed up, and I shall so order." 
 
 The Friar, who was ever in want of Adam's aid, 
 either to construe a bit of Latin, or to help him in 
 some chemical illusion, by no means relished this
 
 214 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 quiet retort ; and, holding out his huge hand to 
 Adam, said, with affected cordiality 
 
 " Pooh ! we are brothers, and must not quarrel. 
 I was over hot, and thou too provoking; but I 
 honour and love thee, man let it pass. As for this 
 figure, doubtless we might pink it all over, and the 
 Earl be never the worse. But if our employers 
 order these things, and pay for them, we cunning 
 men make profit by fools !" 
 
 "It is men like thec that bring shame on 
 science," answered Adam, sternly ; " and I will not 
 listen to thee longer." 
 
 " Nay, but you must," said the Friar, clutching 
 Adam's robe, and concealing his resentment by an 
 affected grin. " Thou thinkest me a mere ignora- 
 mus ha ! ha ! I think the same of thee. Why, 
 man, thou hast never studied the parts of the 
 human body, I'll swear." 
 
 " I'm no leech," said Adam. " Let me go." 
 
 "No not yet. I will convict thee of igno- 
 rance. Thou dost not even know where the liver 
 is placed." 
 
 " I do," answered Adam, shortly, " but what 
 then ?" 
 
 " Thou dost ! I deny it. Here is a pin ; stick 
 it into this wax, man, where thou sayest the liver 
 lies in the human frame." 
 
 Adam unsuspiciously obeyed.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 215 
 
 " Well ! the liver is there, eh. Ah ! but where 
 are the lungs ?" 
 
 " Why, here." 
 
 "And the midriff?" 
 
 " Here, certes." 
 
 "Right! thou mayest go now," said the Friar, 
 drily. Adam disappeared through the aperture, 
 and closed the panel. 
 
 " Now I know where the lungs, midriff, and 
 liver are," said the Friar to himself, " I shall get on 
 famously. 'Tis an useful fellow, that, or I should 
 have had him hanged long ago !" 
 
 Adam did not remark, on his re-entrance, that 
 his visitor, Hilyard, had disappeared, and was 
 soon re-immersed in the fiery interest of his thank- 
 less labours. 
 
 It might be au hour afterwards, when, wearied 
 and exhausted by perpetual hope and perpetual dis- 
 appointment, he flung himself on his seat, and that 
 deep sadness, which they who devote themselves in 
 this noisy world to wisdom and to truth alone can 
 know suffused his thoughts, and murmured from 
 his feverish lips. 
 
 " Oh, hard condition of my life !" groaned the 
 Sage " ever to strive, and never to accomplish. 
 The sun sets and the sun rises upon my eternal 
 toils, and my Age stands as distant from the goal, 
 as stood my Youth ! Fast, fast, the mind is wearing 
 out the frame, and my schemes have but woven
 
 216 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 the ropes of sand, and my name shall be writ in 
 Avater. Golden dreams of my young hope, where 
 are ye ? Methought once, that could I obtain the 
 grace of royalty, the ear of power, the command of 
 wealth, my path to glory was made smooth and 
 sure I should become the grand inventor of my 
 time and land ; I should leave my lore a heritage 
 and blessing wherever labour works to civilize the 
 round globe. And now my lodging is a palace 
 royalty my patron they give me gold at my de- 
 sire my wants no longer mar my leisure. Well ! 
 and for what ? On condition that I forego the 
 sole task for which patronage, wealth, and leisure 
 were desired ! There, stands the broken iron, and 
 there, simmers the ore I am to turn to gold 
 the iron worth more than all the gold, and 
 the gold, never to be won ! Poor, I was an in- 
 ventor, a creator, the true magician protected, 
 patronized, enriched, I am but the alchemist, the 
 bubble, the dupe or duper, the fool's fool. God, 
 brace up my limbs ! Let me escape give me back 
 my old dream, and die, at least, if accomplishing 
 nothing, hoping all !" 
 
 He rose as he spoke, he strode across the cham- 
 ber with majestic step, with resolve upon his brow. 
 He stopped short, for a sharp pain shot across his 
 heart. Premature age, and the disease that labour 
 brings, were at their work of decay within : the 
 mind's excitement gave way to the body's weak-
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 217 
 
 ness. And he sank again upon his seat, breathing 
 hard, gasping, pale, the icy damps upon his brow. 
 Bubblingly seethed the molten metals, redly glowed 
 the poisonous charcoal, the air of death was hot 
 within the chamber where the victim of royal will 
 pandered to the desire of gold : Terrible and 
 eternal moral for Wisdom and for Avarice, for sages 
 and for kings ever shall he who would be the 
 maker of gold, breathe the air of death ! 
 
 (< Father," said the low and touching voice of 
 one who had entered unperceived, and who now 
 threw her arms round Adam's neck, " father, thou 
 art ill, and sorely suffering " 
 
 " At heart yes, Sybill. Give me thine arm ; 
 let us forth and taste the fresher air." 
 
 It was so seldom that Warner could be induced 
 to quit his chamber, that these words almost startled 
 Sybill, and she looked anxiously in his face, as she 
 wiped the dews from his forehead. 
 
 " Yes air air !" repeated Adam, rising. 
 
 Sybill placed his bonnet over his silvered locks, 
 drew his gown more closely round him, and they 
 slowly, and in silence, left the chamber, and took 
 their way across the court to the ramparts of the 
 fortress-palace. 
 
 The day was calm and genial, with a low but 
 fresh breeze stirring gently through the warmth of 
 noon. The father and child seated themselves on 
 the parapet, and saw, below, the gay and numerous 
 
 VOL. II. L
 
 218 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 vessels that glided over the sparkling river, while 
 the dark walls of Baynard's castle, the adjoining 
 bulwark and battlements of Montfichet, and the 
 tall watch-tower of Warwick's mighty mansion, 
 frowned, in the distance, against the soft blue sky. 
 
 "There," said Adam, quietly, and pointing to 
 the feudal roofs, " there seems to rise Power and 
 yonder, (glancing to the river,) yonder seems to 
 flow Genius! A century or so hence, the walls 
 shall vanish, but the river shall roll on. Man 
 makes the castle, and founds the power God 
 forms the river, and creates the genius. And yet, 
 Sybill, there may be streams as broad and stately 
 as yonder Thames, that flow afar in the waste, 
 never seen, never heard by man. What profits the 
 river unmarked ? what the genius never to be 
 known ?'' 
 
 It was not a common thing with Adam Warner 
 to be thus eloquent. Usually silent and absorbed, 
 it was not his gift to moralize or declaim. His soul 
 must be deeply moved before the profound and 
 buried sentiment within it could escape into words. 
 
 Sybill pressed her father's hand, and, though her 
 own heart was very heavy, she forced her lips to 
 smile, and her voice to soothe. Adam interrupted 
 her. 
 
 " Child, child, ye women know not what presses 
 darkest and most bitterly on the minds of men. 
 You know not what it is to form out of immaterial
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 219 
 
 things some abstract but glorious object to wor- 
 ship to serve it to sacrifice to it, as on an altar, 
 youth, health, hope, life and suddenly, in old age, 
 to see that the idol was a phantom, a mockery, a 
 shadow laughing us to scorn, because we have 
 sought to clasp it." 
 
 " Oh, yes, father, women have known that illu- 
 sion." 
 
 " What ! Do they study ?" 
 
 " No, father, but they feel !" 
 
 " Feel ! I comprehend thee not." 
 
 " As man's genius to him, is woman's heart to 
 her," answered Sybill, her dark and deep eyes suf- 
 fused with tears. " Doth not the heart create in- 
 vent ? Doth it not dream ? Doth it not form its 
 idol out of air? Goeth it not forth into the Fu- 
 ture, to prophesy to itself? And, sooner or later, 
 in age or youth, doth it not wake at last, and see 
 how it hath wasted its all on follies ? Yes, Father, 
 my heart can answer, when thy genius would 
 complain." 
 
 " Sybill," said Warner, roused, and surprised, 
 and gazing on her wistfully, " time flies apace. 
 Till this hour I have thought of thee but as a child 
 an infant. Thy words disturb me now." 
 
 " Think not of them, then. Let me never add 
 one grief to thine." 
 
 " Thou art brave and gay in thy silken sheen," 
 
 L2
 
 220 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 said Adam, curiously stroking down the rich, smooth 
 stuff of Sybill's tunic ; " her Grace the Duchess is 
 generous to us. Thou art surely happy here !" 
 "Happy!" 
 
 " Not happy !" exclaimed Adam, almost joyfully, 
 " wouldst thou that we were back once more in 
 our desolate ruined home ?" 
 
 " Yes, oh, yes ! but rather away, far away, in 
 some quiet village, some green nook ; for the de- 
 solate ruined home was not safe for thine old age." 
 " I would we could escape, Sybill," said Adam, 
 earnestly, in a whisper, and with a kind of innocent 
 cunning in his eye, "we and the poor Eureka! 
 The palace is a prison-house to me. I will speak 
 to the Lord Hastings, a man of great excellence, 
 and gentle too. He is ever kind to us." 
 
 " No, no, father, not to him," cried Sybill, turn- 
 ing pale, " let him not know a word of what we 
 would purpose, or whither we would fly." 
 
 " Child, he loves me, or why does he seek me 
 so often, and sit and talk not ?" 
 
 Sybill pressed her clasped hands tightly to her 
 bosom, but made no answer ; and, while she was 
 summoning courage to say something that seemed 
 to oppress her thoughts with intolerable weight, 
 a footstep sounded gently near, and the Lady of 
 Bonville, (then on a visit to the Queen,) unseen, 
 and unheard by the two, approached the spot. She
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 221 
 
 paused, and gazed at Sybill, at first haughtily ; and 
 then, as the deep sadness of that young face struck 
 her softer feelings, and the pathetic picture of father 
 and child, thus alone in their commune, made its 
 pious and sweet effect, the gaze changed from 
 pride to compassion, and the Lady said, cour- 
 teously 
 
 " Fair Mistress, canst thou prefer this solitary 
 scene to the gay company about to take the air in 
 her Grace's gilded barge ?" 
 
 Sybill looked up in surprise, not unmixed with 
 fear. Never before had the great Lady spoken to 
 her thus gently. Adam, who seemed for awhile 
 restored to actual life, saluted Katherine with 
 simple dignity, and took up the word 
 
 "Noble Lady, whoever thou art, in thine old 
 age, and thine hour of care, may thy child, like 
 this poor girl, forsake all gayer comrades for a pa- 
 rent's side!" 
 
 The answer touched the Lady of Bonville, and 
 involuntarily she extended her hand to Sybill. 
 With a swelling heart, Sybill, as proud as herself, 
 bent silently over that rival's hand. Katherine's 
 marble cheek coloured, as she interpreted the girl's 
 silence. 
 
 " Gentle sir," she said, after a short pause, 
 " wilt thou permit me a few words with thy fair 
 daughter? and if in aught, since thou speakest 
 of care, Lord Warwick's sister can serve thee,
 
 222 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 prithee bid thy young maiden impart it, as to a 
 friend." 
 
 "Tell her, then, my Sybill tell Lord War- 
 wick's sister, to ask the King to give back to 
 Adam Warner his poverty, his labour, and his 
 Hope," said the scholar, and his noble head sank 
 gloomily on his bosom. 
 
 The Lady of Boimlle, still holding SybilPs hand, 
 drew her a few paces up the walk, and then she 
 said suddenly, and with some of that blunt frank- 
 ness which belonged to her great brother, " Maiden, 
 can there be confidence between thee and me ?" 
 
 " Of what nature, Lady ?" 
 
 Again Katherine blushed, but she felt the small 
 hand she held tremble in her clasp, and was em- 
 boldened 
 
 " Maiden, thou mayest resent and marvel at my 
 words ; but, when I had fewer years than thou, my 
 father said, ' There are many carks in life which a 
 little truth could end.' So would I heed his lesson. 
 William de Hastings has folio wed thee with a homage 
 that has broken, perchance, many as pure a heart 
 nay, nay, fair child, hear me on. Thou hast heard 
 that in youth he wooed Katherine Nevile that we 
 loved, and were severed. They who see us now 
 marvel whether we hate or love, no, not love 
 that question were an insult to Lord Bonville's 
 wife ! Ofttimes we seem pitiless to each other, 
 why? Lord Hastings would have wooed me,
 
 THE LAST OP THE BARONS. 223 
 
 an English matron, to forget mine honour and 
 my House's. He chafes that he moves me not. / 
 behold him debasing a great nature, to unworthy 
 triflings with man's conscience and a knight's 
 bright faith. But mark me ! the heart of Has- 
 tings is everlastingly mine, and mine alone I What 
 seek I in this confidence ? To warn thee. Where- 
 fore ? Because for months, amidst all the vices of 
 this foul court-air amidst the flatteries of the 
 softest voice that ever fell upon woman's ear 
 amidst, peradventure, the pleadings of thine own 
 young and guileless love thine innocence is un- 
 scathed. And therefore Katherine of Bonville may 
 be the friend of Sybill Warner." 
 
 However generous might be the true spirit of 
 these words, it was impossible that they should not 
 gall and humiliate the young and flattered beauty 
 to whom they were addressed. They so wholly 
 discarded all belief in the affection of Hastings for 
 Sybill; they so haughtily arrogated the mastery 
 over his heart; they so plainly implied that his 
 suit to the poor maiden was but a mockery or dis- 
 honour, that they made even the praise for virtue 
 an affront to the delicate and chaste ear on which 
 they fell. And, therefore, the reader will not be 
 astonished, though the Lady of Bonville certainly 
 was, when Sybill, drawing her hand from Kathe- 
 rine 's clasp, stopping short, and calmly folding her 
 arms upon her bosom, said,
 
 224 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 " To what this tends, lady, I know not. The 
 Lord Hastings is free to carry his homage where he 
 will. He has sought me not I Lord Hastings. 
 And if to-morrow lie offered me his hand, I would 
 reject it, if I were not convinced that the heart " 
 
 "Damsel," interrupted the Lady Bonvillc, in 
 amazed contempt, " the hand of Lord Hastings ! 
 Look ye indeed so high, or has he so far paltered 
 with your credulous youth as to speak to you, the 
 daughter of the alchemist, of marriage ? If so, 
 poor child, beware !" 
 
 " I knew not," replied Sybill, bitterly, " that 
 Sybill Warner was more below the state of Lord 
 Hastings, than Master Hastings was once below the 
 state of Lady Katherine Nevile." 
 
 " Thou art distraught with thy self-conceit," an- 
 swered the Dame, scornfully ; and, losing all the 
 compassion and friendly interest she had before 
 felt, " my rede is spoken reject it, if thou wilt, in 
 pride. Rue thy folly thou wilt, in shame." 
 
 She drew her wimple round her face as she said 
 these words, and, gathering up her long robe, 
 swept slowly on.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BAHOX3. 225 
 
 III. 
 
 WHEREIN THE DEMAGOGUE SEEKS THE COCHTIEK. 
 
 ON quitting Adam's chamber, Hilyard paused not 
 till he reached a stately house, not far from War- 
 wick Lane, which was the residence of the Lord 
 Montagu. 
 
 That nobleman was employed in reading, or 
 rather, in pondering over, two letters, with which a 
 courier from Calais had just arrived the one from 
 the Archbishop, the other from Warwick. In these 
 epistles were two passages, strangely contrary 
 their counsel. A sentence in Warwick's letter ran 
 thus : " It hath reached me, that certain disaffected 
 men meditate a rising against the King, under pre- 
 text of wrongs from the Queen's kin. It is even 
 said that our kinsmen, Coniers and Fitzhugh, are 
 engaged therein. Need I caution thee to watch well 
 that they bring our name into no disgrace or attaint. 
 We want no aid to right our own wrongs ; and if 
 the misguided men rebel, Warwick will best punish 
 Edward, by proving that he is yet of use.' 
 
 L3
 
 226 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 On the other hand, thus wrote the Pre- 
 late : 
 
 "The King, wroth with my visit to Calais, 
 has taken from me the Chancellor's seal. I 
 humbly thank him, and shall sleep the lighter for 
 the fardel's loss. Now, mark me, Montagu: our 
 kinsman, Lord Fitzhugh's son, and young Henry 
 Nevilc, aided by old Sir John Coniers, meditate a 
 fierce and well-timed assault upon the Woodvilles. 
 Do thou keep neuter neither help nor frustrate 
 it. Howsoever it end, it will answer our views, 
 and shake our enemies." 
 
 Montagu was yet musing over these tidings, and 
 marvelling that he in England should know less 
 than his brethren in Calais of events so important, 
 when his page informed him that a stranger, with 
 urgent messages from the north country, craved an 
 audience. Imagining that these messages would 
 tend to illustrate the communications just received, 
 he ordered the visitor to be admitted. 
 
 He scarcely noticed Hilyard on his entrance, 
 and said, abruptly, " Speak shortly, friend I have 
 but little leisure." 
 
 " And yet, Lord Montagu, my business may 
 touch thee home !" 
 
 Montagu, surprised, gazed more attentively on 
 his visitor : " Surely, I know thy face, friend we 
 have met before."
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 227 
 
 " True ; thou wert then on thy way to the 
 More." 
 
 " I remember me ; and thou then seem'dst, from 
 thy bold words, on a still shorter road to the gal- 
 lows." 
 
 " The tree is not planted," said Robin, care- 
 lessly, " that will serve for my gibbet. But were 
 there no 'words uttered by me that thou couldst 
 not disapprove ? I spoke of lawless "disorders of 
 shameful malfaisance throughout the land which 
 the Woodvilles govern under a lewd tyrant " 
 
 "Traitor, hold!" 
 
 " A tyrant," continued Robin (heeding not the 
 interruption nor the angry gesture of Montagu), 
 " a tyrant who, at this moment, meditates the de- 
 struction of the House of Nevile. And not con- 
 tented with this world's weapons, palters with the 
 Evil One for the snares and devilries of witchcraft." 
 
 " Hush, man ! Not so loud," said Montagu, in 
 an altered voice. " Approach nearer nearer yet. 
 They who talk of a crowned King whose right 
 hand raises armies, and whose left hand reposes on 
 the block should beware how they speak above 
 their breath. Witchcraft, sayest thou? Make 
 thy meaning clear/' 
 
 Here Robin detailed, with but little exaggera- 
 tion, the scene he had witnessed in Friar Bungey's 
 chamber the waxen image, the menaces against 
 the Earl of Warwick, and the words of the friar*
 
 228 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 naming the Duchess of Bedford as his employer. 
 Montagu listened in attentive silence. Though not 
 perfectly free from the credulities of the time, 
 shared even by the courageous heart of Edward, 
 and the piercing intellect of Gloucester, he was yet 
 more alarmed by such proofs of determined earthly 
 hostility in one so plotting and so near to the 
 throne as the Duchess of Bedford, than by all 
 the pins and needles that could be planted into the 
 Earl's waxen counterpart 
 
 " A devilish malice indeed," said he, when Hil- 
 yard had concluded ; " and yet this story, if thou 
 wilt adhere to it, may serve us well at need. I 
 thank thee, trusty friend, for thy confidence, and 
 beseech thee to come at once with me to the King. 
 There will I denounce our foe, and, with thine 
 evidence, we will demand her banishment." 
 
 " By your leave, not a step will I budge, my 
 Lord Montagu," quoth Robin bluntly " I know 
 how these matters are managed at Court. The 
 King will patch up a peace between the Duchess 
 and you, and chop off my ears and nose as a liar 
 and common scandal-maker. No, no; denounce 
 the Duchess and all the Woodvilles, I will : but it 
 shall be not in the Halls of the Tower, but on the 
 broad plains of Yorkshire, with twenty thousand 
 men at my back." 
 
 " Ha! thou a leader of armies and for what 
 end ? to dethrone the King?"
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 229 
 
 " That as it may be but first for justice to the 
 People ; it is the People's rising, that I will head, 
 and not a faction's. Neither White Rose nor Red 
 shall be on my banner, but our standard shall be 
 the gory head of the first oppressor we can place 
 upon a pole." 
 
 " What is it, the People, as you word it, would 
 demand ?" 
 
 " I scarce know what we demand as yet that 
 must depend upon how we prosper," returned 
 Hilyard, with a bitter laugh ; " but the rising will 
 have some good, if it shews only to you Lords and 
 Normans, that a Saxon People does exist, and will 
 turn when the iron heel is upon its neck. We are 
 taxed, ground, pillaged, plundered sheep, main- 
 tained to be sheared for your peace, or butchered 
 for your war. And now will we have a petition and 
 a charter of our own, Lord Montagu. I speak 
 frankly I am in thy power thou canst arrest me 
 thou canst strike off the head of this revolt. 
 Thou art the King's friend wilt thou do so ? No, 
 thou and thy House have wrongs as well as we, 
 the People. And a part at least of our demands 
 and our purpose is your own." 
 
 " What part, bold man ?" 
 
 " This : we shall make our first complaint the 
 baneful domination of the Queen's family; and 
 demand the banishment of the Woodvilles, root 
 and stem."
 
 230 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 " Hem !" said Montagu, involuntarily glancing 
 over the Archbishop's letter, " hem, but without 
 outrage to the King's state and person ?" 
 
 " Oh, trust me, my Lord, the franklin's head 
 contains as much north-country cunning as the 
 noble's. They who would speed well, must feel 
 their way cautiously." 
 
 " Twenty thousand men impossible ! Who 
 art thou, to collect and head them ?" 
 
 Plain Robin of Redesdale." 
 
 " Ha !" exclaimed Montagu, " is it indeed, as I 
 was taught to suspect ! Art thou that bold, strange, 
 mad fellow, whom, by pike and brand a soldier's 
 oath I a soldier, have often longed to see. Let 
 me look at thee. 'Fore God, a tall man, and well 
 knit, with dareiment in thy brow. Why, there are 
 as many tales of thee in the North, as of my 
 brother the Earl. Some say thou art a Lord of 
 degree and birth, others that thou art the robber 
 of Hexham, to whom Margaret of Anjou trusted 
 her own life and her son's." 
 
 " Whatever they say of me," returned Robin, 
 " they all agree in this, that I am a man of 
 honest word, and bold deed that I can stir up 
 the hearts of men, as the wind stirreth fire that 
 I came an unknown stranger into the parts where 
 I abide, and that no peer in this roiaulme, save 
 Warwick himself, can do more to raise an army, 
 or shake a throne."
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 231 
 
 "But by what spell?" 
 
 " By men's wrongs, Lord," answered Robin, in 
 a deep voice ; " and now, ere this moon wanes, 
 Redesdale is a camp !" 
 
 " What the immediate cause of complaint ?" 
 
 " The hospital of St. Leonard's has compelled 
 us unjustly to render them a thrave of corn." 
 
 " Thou art a cunning knave ! Pinch the belly 
 if you would make Englishmen rise." 
 
 " True," said Robin, smiling grimly " and 
 now what say you will you head us ?" 
 
 "Head you! No!" 
 
 " Will you betray us ?" 
 
 " It is not easy to betray twenty thousand men ; 
 if ye rise merely to free yourselves from a corn- 
 tax, and England from the Woodvilles, I see no 
 treason in your revolt." 
 
 " I understand you, Lord Montagu," said Robin 
 with a stern and half-scornful smile "you are 
 not above thriving by our danger ; but we need 
 now no lord and baron we will suffice for our- 
 selves. And the hour will come, believe me, when 
 Lord Warwick, pursued by the King, must fly to 
 the Commons. Think well of these things and 
 this prophecy, when the news from the North 
 startles Edward of March in the lap of his har- 
 lots." 
 
 Without saying another word, he turned and 
 quitted the chamber as abruptly as he had entered.
 
 232 
 
 Lord Montagu was not, for his age, a bad man ; 
 though worldly, subtle, and designing ; with some of 
 the craft of his prelate brother, he united some- 
 thing of the high soul of his brother soldier. But 
 that age had not the virtue of later times, and 
 cannot be judged by its standard. He heard this 
 bold dare-devil menace his country with civil war 
 upon grounds not plainly stated, nor clearly under- 
 stood he aided not, but he connived : " Twenty 
 thousand men in arms," he muttered to himself 
 " say half well, ten thousand not against Ed- 
 ward, but the Woodvilles ! It must bring the King 
 to his senses must prove to him how odious 
 the mushroom race of the Woodvilles, and drive 
 him for safety and for refuge to Montagu and 
 Warwick. If the knaves presume too far," (and 
 Montagu smiled,) " what arc undisciplined mul- 
 titudes to the eye of a skilful captain ? Let the 
 storm blow, we will guide the blast. In this world 
 man must make use of man."
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 233 
 
 IV. 
 
 WHILE Montagu, in anxious forethought, awaited 
 the revolt that Robin of Redesdale had predicted 
 while Edward feasted and laughed, merry-made 
 with his courtiers, and aided the conjugal duties of 
 his good citizens in London while the Queen 
 and her father, Lord Rivers, more and more in the 
 absence of Warwick, encroached on all the good 
 things power can bestow and avarice seize while 
 the Duchess of Bedford and Friar Bungey toiled 
 hard at the waxen effigies of the great Earl, who 
 still held his royal son-in-law in his Court at Calais 
 the stream of our narrative winds from its 
 noisier channels, and lingers, with a quiet wave, 
 around the temple of a virgin's heart. Wherefore 
 is Sybill sad ? Some short months since, and we 
 beheld her gay with hope, and basking in the 
 sunny atmosphere of pleasure and of love. The 
 mind of this girl was a singular combination of
 
 234 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 tenderness and pride the first wholly natural, the 
 last the result of circumstance and position. She 
 was keenly conscious of her gentle birth, and her 
 earlier prospects in the Court of Margaret ; and 
 the poverty and distress and solitude in which 
 she had grown up from the Child into the Woman, 
 had only served to strengthen what, in her nature, 
 was already strong, and to heighten whatever was 
 already proud. Ever in her youngest dreams of 
 the Future, ambition had visibly blent itself with 
 the vague ideas of love. The imagined wooer was 
 less to be young and fair, than renowned and 
 stately. She viewed him through the mists of the 
 Future, as the protector of her persecuted father 
 as the rebuilder of a fallen House as the ennobler 
 of a humbled name. And from the moment in 
 which her girl's heart beat at the voice of Hastings, 
 the ideal of her soul seemed found. And when 
 transplanted to the Court, she learned to judge of 
 her native grace and loveliness, by the common 
 admiration they excited, her hopes grew justified 
 to her inexperienced reason. Often and ever the 
 words of Hastings, at the house of the Lady 
 Longu cvie, rang in her ear, and thrilled through 
 the solitude of night " Whoever is fair and 
 chaste, gentle and loving, is, in the eyes of William 
 de Hastings, the mate and equal of a king." In 
 visits that she had found opportunity to make to 
 the Lady Longueville, these hopes were duly fed ;
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 235 
 
 for the old Lancastrian detested the Lady Bon- 
 ville, as Lord Warwick's sister, and she would have 
 reconciled her pride to view with complacency his 
 alliance with the Alchemist's daughter, if it led to 
 his estrangement from the memory of his first love ; 
 and, therefore, when her quick eye penetrated the 
 secret of Sybill's heart, and when she witnessed 
 for Hastings often encountered (and seemed to 
 seek the encounter) the young maid at Lady Lon- 
 gueville's house the unconcealed admiration which 
 justified Sybill in her high-placed affection, she 
 scrupled not to encourage the blushing girl, by 
 predictions in which she forced her own better judg- 
 ment to believe. Nor, when she learned Sybill's 
 descent from a family that had once ranked at 
 least as high as that of Hastings, would she allow 
 that there was any disparity in the alliance she 
 foretold. But more, far more than Lady Longue- 
 ville's assurances, did the delicate and unceasing 
 gallantries of t Hastings himself flatter the fond 
 faith of Sybill. True, that he spoke not actually 
 of love, but every look implied, every whisper 
 seemed to betray it. And to her he spoke as to 
 an equal, not in birth alone, but in mind ; so su- 
 perior was she in culture, in natural gifts, and, 
 above all, in that train of high thought, and ele- 
 vated sentiment, in which genius ever finds a 
 sympathy, to the court-flutterers of her sex, that 
 Hastings, whether or not he cherished a warmer
 
 236 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 feeling, might well take pleasure in her converse, 
 and feel the lovely infant worthy the wise man's 
 trust. He spoke to her without reserve of the 
 Lady Bonville, and he spoke with bitterness. " I 
 loved her," he said, "as woman is rarely loved. 
 She deserted me for another rather should she 
 have gone to the convent than the altar ; and now, 
 forsooth, she deems she hath the right to taunt 
 and to rate me, to dictate to me the way I should 
 walk, and to flaunt the honours I have won." 
 
 " May that be no sign of a yet tender interest ?" 
 said Sybill, timidly. 
 
 The eyes of Hastings sparkled for a moment, 
 but the gleam vanished. " Nay, you know her 
 not. Her heart is marble, as hard and as cold. 
 Her very virtue but the absence of emotion I 
 would say of gentler emotion for, God wot, such 
 emotions as come from ire and pride and scorn, 
 are the daily growth of that stern soil. Oh, happy 
 was my escape ! happy the desertion, which my 
 young folly deemed a curse. No!" he added, 
 with a sarcastic quiver of his lip " No ; what 
 stings and galls the Lady of Harrington and 
 Bonville what makes her countenance change in 
 my presence, and her voice sharpen at my accost, 
 is plainly this : in wedding her dull lord, and re- 
 jecting me, Katherine Nevile deemed she wedded 
 power, and rank, and station; and now, while 
 we are both young, how proves her choice ? The
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 237 
 
 Lord of Harrington and Bonville is so noted a 
 dolt, that even the Neviles cannot help him to 
 rise the meanest office is above his mind's level; 
 and, dragged down by the heavy clay to which her 
 wings are yoked, Katherine, Lady of Harrington 
 and Bonville oh, give her her due titles ! is but a 
 pageant figure in the court. If the war-trump blew, 
 his very vassals would laugh at a Bonville 's banner, 
 and beneath the flag of poor William Hastings 
 would gladly march the best chivalry of the 
 land. And this it is, I say, that galls her. For 
 evermore she is driven to compare the state 
 she holds, as the dame of the accepted Bonville, 
 with that she lost as the wife of the disdained 
 Hastings." 
 
 And if, in the heat and passion that such words 
 betrayed, Sybill sighed to think that something of 
 the old remembrance yet swelled and burned, they 
 but impressed her more with the value of a heart, in 
 which the characters once writ endured so long, 
 and roused her to a tender ambition to heal and to 
 console. 
 
 Then looking into her own deep soul, Sybill 
 beheld there a fund of such generous, pure, and 
 noble affection such reverence as to the fame 
 such love as to the man, that she proudly felt 
 herself worthier of Hastings than the haughty 
 Katherine. She entered then, as it were, the lists
 
 238 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 with this rival a memory rather, so she thought, 
 than a corporeal being ; and her eye grew brighter, 
 her step statelier, in the excitement of the contest 
 the anticipation of the triumph. For, what 
 diamond without its flaw ? what rose without its 
 canker ? And bedded deep in that exquisite and 
 charming nature, lay the dangerous and fatal weak- 
 ness which has cursed so many victims, broken so 
 many hearts the Vanity of the Sex. We may now 
 readily conceive how little predisposed was Sybill 
 to the blunt advances and displeasing warnings 
 of the Lady Bonville, and the more so from the 
 time in which they chanced. For here comes 
 the answer to the question " Why was Sybill 
 sad?" 
 
 The reader may determine for himself what were 
 the ruling motives of Lord Hastings in the court 
 he paid to Sybill. Whether to pique the Lady 
 Bonville, and force upon her the jealous pain he 
 restlessly sought to inflict whether, from the 
 habit of his careless life, seeking the pleasure of the 
 moment, with little forethought of the future, and 
 reconciling itself to much cruelty, by that profound 
 contempt for human beings, man, and woman 
 more, which sad experience often brings to acute 
 intellect or whether, from the purer and holier 
 complacency with which one, whose youth has fed 
 upon nobler aspirations than manhood cares to
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 pursue, suns itself back to something of its earlier 
 lustre in the presence and the converse of a 
 young bright soul : Whatever, in brief, the earlier 
 motives of gallantries to Sybill, once begun, con- 
 stantly renewed, by degrees wilder, and warmer, 
 and guiltier emotions, roused up in the universal and 
 all-conquering lover the vice of his softer nature. 
 When calm and unimpassioned, his conscience had 
 said to him " Thou shall spare that flower." But 
 when once the passion was roused within him, the 
 purity of the flower was forgotten in the breath of 
 its voluptuous sweetness. 
 
 ' And but three days before the scene we have 
 described with Katherine, SybilFs fabric of hope 
 fell to the dust. For Hastings spoke for the first 
 time of love for the first time knelt at her feet 
 for the first time, clasping to his heart that virgin 
 hand, poured forth the protestation and the vow. 
 And oh ! woe woe ! for the first time she learned 
 how cheaply the great man held the poor maiden's 
 love, how little he deemed that purity and genius 
 and affection equalled the possessor of fame and 
 wealth and power ; for plainly visible, boldly 
 shewn and spoken, the love that she had foreseen 
 as a glory from the Heaven, sought but to humble 
 her to the dust. 
 
 The anguish of that moment was unspeakable 
 and she spoke it not. But as she broke from the
 
 240 THE LAST OP THE BARONS. 
 
 profaning clasp, as escaping to the threshold, 
 she cast on the unworthy wooer one look of such 
 reproachful sorrow, as told at once all her love and 
 all her horror, the first act in the eternal tragedy 
 of man's wrong and woman's grief was closed. 
 And therefore was Sybill sad !
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 241 
 
 V. 
 
 KATHEBrNE. 
 
 FOR several days Hastings avoided Sybill ; in 
 truth, he felt remorse for his design, and in his 
 various, active, and brilliant life, he had not 
 the leisure for obstinate and systematic siege to 
 a single virtue, nor was he, perhaps, any longer 
 capable of deep and enduring passion ; his heart, 
 like that of many a chevalier in the earlier day, 
 had lavished itself upon one object, and sullenly, 
 upon regrets and dreams, and vain anger and idle 
 scorn, it had exhausted those sentiments which 
 make the sum of true love. And so, like Petrarch, 
 whom his taste and fancy worshipped, and many 
 another votary of the yentil Dlcu, while his imagi- 
 nation devoted itself to the chaste and distant Ideal 
 the Spiritual Laura, his senses, ever vagrant 
 and disengaged, settled, without scruple, upon the 
 thousand Cynthias of the minute. But then, those 
 Cynthias were, for the most part, and especially of 
 
 VOL. II. M
 
 242 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 late years, facile and light-won Nymphs: their 
 coyest were of another clay from the tender but lofty 
 Sybill. And Hastings shrunk from the cold- 
 blooded and deliberate seduction of one so pure, 
 while he could not reconcile his mind to contem- 
 plate marriage with a girl who could give nothing 
 to his ambition ; and yet it was not, in this last re- 
 luctance, only his ambition that startled and re- 
 coiled. In that strange tyranny over his whole 
 soul, which Katherine Bonville secretly exercised, 
 he did not dare to place a new barrier evermore 
 between her and himself. The Lord Bonville was 
 of infirm health; he had been more than once 
 near to death's door, and Hastings, in every suc- 
 ceeding fancy that beguiled his path, recalled the 
 thrill of his heart, when it had whispered, " Kathe- 
 rine, the loved of thy youth, may yet be thine !" 
 And then that Katherine rose before him, not as 
 she now swept the earth, with haughty step, and 
 frigid eye, and disdainful lip, but as in all her 
 bloom of maiden beauty, before the temper was 
 soured, or the pride aroused, she had met him in 
 the summer twilight, by the trysting-tree ; broken 
 with him the golden ring of Faith, and wept upon 
 his bosom. 
 
 And yet, during his brief and self-inflicted ab- 
 sence from Sybill, this wayward and singular per- 
 sonage, who was never weak but to women, and 
 ever weak to them, felt that she had made herself
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 243 
 
 far dearer to him than he had at first supposed it 
 possible. He missed that face, ever, till the last in- 
 terview, so confiding in the unconsciously betrayed 
 affection. He felt how superior hi sweetness, and 
 yet in intellect, Sybill was to Katherine ; there was 
 more in common between her mind and his in all 
 things, save one. But oh, that one exception ! what 
 a world lies within it the memories of the spring of 
 life ! In fact, though Hastings knew it not, he was in 
 love with two objects at once : the one, a chimera, 
 a fancy, an ideal, an Eidolon, under the name of 
 Katherine ; the other, youth, and freshness, and 
 mind, and heart, and a living shape of beauty, under 
 the name of Sybill. Often does this double love 
 happen to men; but when it does, alas for the 
 human object ! for the shadowy and the spiritual 
 one is immortal, until, indeed, it be possessed ! 
 
 It might be, perhaps, with a resolute desire to 
 conquer the new love and confirm the old, that 
 Hastings, one morning, repaired to the house of 
 the Lady Bonville, for her visit to the Court had 
 expired. It was a large mansion, without the Lud 
 Gate. 
 
 He found the dame in a comely chamber, seated 
 in the sole chair the room contained, to which 
 was attached a foot-board that served as a dais, 
 while around her, on low stools, sate some spin- 
 ning, others broidering some ten or twelve young 
 M 2
 
 244 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 maidens of good family, sent to receive their nur- 
 turing under the high-born Katherine,* while two 
 other and somewhat elder virgins sate a little apart, 
 but close under the eye of the lady, practising the 
 courtly game of " Prime ;" for the diversion of 
 cards was in its zenith of fashion under Edward IV., 
 and even half a century later was considered one 
 of the essential accomplishments of a well-educated 
 young lady.f The exceeding stiffness, the solemn 
 silence of this female circle, but little accorded with 
 the mood of the graceful visitor. The demoi- 
 selles stirred not at his entrance, and Katherine 
 quietly motioned him to a seat at some distance. 
 
 " By your leave, fair lady," said Hastings, " I 
 rebel against so distant an exile from such sweet 
 company ;" and he moved the tabouret close to the 
 formidable chair of the presiding chieftainess. 
 
 * And strange as it may seem to modern notions, the highest 
 lady who received such pensioners accepted a befitting salary 
 for their board and education. 
 
 f So the Princess Margaret, daughter of Henry VII., at the 
 age of fourteen, exhibits her skill, in prime or trump, to her 
 betrothed husband, James IV. of Scotland ; so, among the 
 womanly arts of the unhappy Katherine of Arragon, it is men- 
 tioned that she conld play at "cardis and dyce." (See Strutt's 
 Games and Pastimes, Hone's edition, p. 327.) The legisla- 
 ture was very anxious to keep these games sacred to the aristo- 
 cracy, and very wroth will) 'prentices and the vulgar for imitating 
 the ruinous amusements of their betters.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 245 
 
 Katherine smiled faintly, but not in displeasure. 
 
 "So gay a presence," she said, "must, I fear 
 me, a little disturb these learners." 
 
 Hastings glanced at the prim demureness written 
 on each blooming visage, and replied 
 
 " You wrong their ardour in such noble studies. 
 I would wager that nothing less than my entering 
 your bower on horseback, with helm on head and 
 lance in rest, could provoke even a smile from one 
 pair of the twenty rosy lips round which, methinks, 
 I behold Cupido hovering in vain !" 
 
 The Baroness bent her stately brows, and the 
 twenty rosy lips were all tightly pursed up, to pre- 
 vent the indecorous exhibition which the wicked 
 courtier had provoked. But it would not do : 
 one and all the twenty lips broke into a smile but 
 a smile so tortured, constrained, and nipped in the 
 bud, that it only gave an expression of pain to the 
 features it was forbidden to enliven. 
 
 " And what brings the Lord Hastings hither ?" 
 asked the Baroness, in a formal tone. 
 
 " Can you never allow, for motive, the desire of 
 pleasure, fair Dame ?" 
 
 That peculiar and exquisite blush, which at 
 moments changed the whole physiognomy of Ka- 
 therine, flitted across her smooth cheek, and 
 vanished. She said, gravely 
 
 " So much do I allow it in yon, my lord, that 
 hence my question."
 
 246 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 " Katherine !" exclaimed Hastings, in a voice of 
 tender reproach, and attempting to seize her hand, 
 forgetful of all other presence save that to which 
 the blush, that spoke of old, gave back the ancient 
 charm. 
 
 Katherine cast a hurried and startled glance over 
 the maiden group, and her eye detected on the 
 automaton faces one common expression of sur- 
 prise. Humbled and deeply displeased, she rose 
 from the awful chair, and then, as suddenly re- 
 seating herself, she said, with a voice and lip of 
 the most cutting irony, " My Lord Chamberlain is, 
 it seems, so habituated to lackey his King amidst 
 the goldsmiths and grocers, that he forgets the form 
 of language and respect of bearing which a noble- 
 woman of repute is accustomed to consider seemly." 
 
 Hastings bit his lip, and his falcon eye shot in- 
 dignant fire. " Pardon, my Lady of Bonville and 
 Harrington, I did indeed forget what reasons the 
 dame of so wise and so renowned a lord hath to 
 feel pride in the titles she hath won. But I see 
 that my visit hath chanced out of season. My bu- 
 siness, in truth, was rather with my lord, whose 
 counsel in peace is as famous as his truncheon in 
 the war !" 
 
 " It is enough," replied Katherine, with a dignity 
 that rebuked the taunt, " that Lord Bonville has 
 the name of an honest man, who never rose at 
 Court."
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 247 
 
 " Woman, without one soft woman-feeling !" 
 muttered Hastings, between his ground teeth, as he 
 approached the lady and made his profound obei- 
 sance. The words were intended only for Kathe- 
 rine's ear, and they reached it. Her bosom swelled 
 beneath the brocaded gorget, and when the door 
 closed on Hastings, she pressed her hands convul- 
 sively together, and her dark eyes were raised up- 
 ward. 
 
 " My child, thou art entangling thy skein," said 
 the Lady of Bonville, as she passed one of the 
 maidens, towards the casement, which she opened, 
 " The air to-day weighs heavily !"
 
 218 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 VI. 
 
 JOY FOR ADAM, AND llOl'Ji TOR SYBLLL AND POPULAR 
 1'RIAR 
 
 LEAPING on his palfrey, Hastings rode back lo the 
 Tower dismounted at the gate passed on to the 
 little postern in the inner court, and paused not 
 till he was in Warner's room. 
 
 " How now, friend Adam ? Thou art idle." 
 
 " Lord Hastings, I am ill." 
 
 " And thy child not with thce ?" 
 
 " She is gone to her Grace the Duchess, to pray 
 her to grant me leave to go home, and waste no 
 more life on making gold." 
 
 " Home ! Go hence ! We cannot hear it! The 
 Duchess must not grant it. I will not suffer the 
 King to lose so learned a philosopher." 
 
 "Then pray the King to let the philosopher 
 achieve that which is in the power of labour." lie 
 pointed to the Eureka. " Let me be heard in the 
 King's council, and prove to sufficing judges what 
 this iron can do for England." 
 
 "Is that all? So be it. I will speak to his
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 249 
 
 Highness forthwith. But promise that thou wilt 
 think no more of leaving the King's palace." 
 
 " Oh, no, no ! If I may enter again into mine 
 own palace mine own royalty of craft and hope 
 the court or the dungeon all one to me !" 
 
 " Father," said Sybill, entering, " be comforted. 
 The Duchess forbids thy departure, but we will 
 yet flee 
 
 She stopped short as she saw Hastings. He ap- 
 proached her timidly, and with so repentant, so 
 earnest a respect, in his mien and gesture, that 
 she had not the heart to draw back the fair hand 
 he lifted to his lips. 
 
 " No, flee not, sweet donzell ; leave not the de- 
 sert Court, without the flower and the laurel, the 
 beauty and the wisdom, that scent the hour, and 
 foretype eternity. I have conferred with thy father 
 I wilt obtain his prayer from the King. His 
 mind shall be free to follow its own impulse, and 
 thou (he whispered) pardon pardon an offence 
 of too much love. Never shall it wound again." 
 
 Her eyes, swimming with delicious tears, were 
 fixed upon the floor. Poor child ! with so much 
 love, how could she cherish anger ? With so much 
 purity, how distrust herself? And while, at least, 
 he spoke, the dangerous lover was sincere. So 
 from that hour peace was renewed between Sybill 
 and Lord Hastings. Fatal peace ! alas for the 
 girl who loves, and has no mother ! 
 
 M3
 
 250 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 True to his word, the courtier braved the dis- 
 pleasure of the Duchess of Bedford, in inducing the 
 King to consider the expediency of permitting 
 Adam to relinquish alchemy, and repair his model. 
 Edward summoned a deputation from the London 
 merchants and traders, before whom Adam ap- 
 peared, and explained his device. But these prac- 
 tical men at first ridiculed the notion, as a madman's 
 fancy, and it required all the art of Hastings to 
 overcome their contempt, and appeal to the native 
 acuteness of the King. Edward, however, was only 
 caught by Adam's incidental allusions to the appli- 
 cation of his principle to ships. The Merchant-King 
 suddenly roused himself to attention, when it was 
 promised to him that his galleys could cross the 
 seas without sail, and against wind and tide." 
 
 " By St. George !" said he then, " let the honest 
 man have his whim. Mend thy model, and God 
 speed thee ! Master Heyford, tell thy comely wife 
 that I and Hastings will sup with thee to-morrow, 
 for her hippocras is a rare dainty. God day to 
 you, worshipful my masters. Hastings, come hither 
 enough of these trifles I must confer with thee 
 on matters really pressing this damnable mar- 
 riage of Gentle Georgie's !" 
 
 And now Adam Warner was restored to his 
 native clement of thought ; now the crucible was at 
 rest, and the Eureka began to rise from its ruins. 
 He knew not the hate that he had acquired, in the
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 251 
 
 permission he had gained ; for the London depu- 
 ties, on their return home, talked of nothing else 
 for a whole week, but the favour the King had 
 shewn to a strange man, half-maniac, half-con- 
 jurer, who had undertaken to devise a something 
 which would throw all the artisans and journey- 
 men out of work! From merchant to mechanic 
 travelled the news, and many an honest man cursed 
 the great scholar, as he looked at his young children, 
 and wished to have one good blow at the head that 
 was hatching such devilish malice against the poor ! 
 The name of Adam Warner became a byword of 
 scorn and horror. Nothing less than the deep 
 ditch and strong walls of the Tower could have 
 saved him from the popular indignation; and 
 these prejudices were skilfully fed by the jealous 
 enmity of his fellow-student, the terrible Friar 
 Bungey. This man, though in all matters of true 
 learning and science, worthy the utmost contempt 
 Adam could heap upon him, \vas by no means of 
 despicable abilities in the arts of imposing upon 
 men. In his youth he had been an itinerant 
 mountebank, or, as it was called, tregetour. He 
 knew well all the curious tricks of juggling that, 
 then, amazed the vulgar, and, we fear, are lost 
 to the craft of our modern necromancers. He 
 could clothe a wall with seeming vines, that 
 vanished as you approached ; he could conjure 
 sip in his quiet cell the likeness of a castle manned
 
 252 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 with soldiers, or a forest tenanted by deer.* Be- 
 sides these illusions, probably produced by more 
 powerful magic lanthorns than are now used, the 
 Friar had stumbled upon the wondrous effects of 
 animal magnetism, which was then unconsciously 
 practised by the alchemists and cultivators of white 
 or sacred magic. He was an adept in the craft of 
 fortune-telling ; and his intimate acquaintance with 
 all noted characters in the metropolis, their pre- 
 vious history, and present circumstances, enabled 
 his natural shrewdness to hit the mark, at least, 
 now and then, in his oracular predictions, lie had 
 taken for safety and for bread, the Friar's robes, 
 and had long enjoyed the confidence of the Duchess 
 of Bedford, the traditional descendant of the Ser- 
 pent-witch, Mclusina. Moreover, and in this the 
 Friar especially valued himself, Bungey had, in 
 the course of his hardy, vagrant, early life, studied, 
 as shepherds and mariners do now, the signs of the 
 weather, and as weather-glasses were then un- 
 known, nothing could be more convenient to the 
 royal planners of a summer chase or a hawking 
 company, than the neighbourhood of a skilful pre- 
 dictor of storm and sunshine. In fact, there was 
 no part in the lore of magic which the popular seers 
 
 * See Chaucer, House of Time, Book iii.; also the Account 
 given by Baptista Porta, of his own Magical Delusions, of 
 which an extract may be seen in the Curiosities of Literature ~ 
 Art. " Dreams at the Dawn of Philosophy."
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 253 
 
 found so useful and studied so much as that 
 which enabled them to prognosticate the humours 
 of the sky, at a period when the lives of all men 
 were principally spent in the open air. 
 
 The fame of Friar Bimgey had travelled much 
 farther than the repute of Adam Warner : it was 
 known in the distant provinces; and many a 
 northern peasant grew pale as he related to his 
 gaping listeners the talcs he had heard of the 
 Duchess Jacquetta's dread magician. 
 
 And yet, though the Friar was an atrocious 
 knave, and a ludicrous impostor, on the whole he 
 was by no means unpopular, especially in the 
 metropolis, for he was naturally a jolly, social fellow: 
 he often ventured boldly forth into the different 
 hostels and reunions of the populace, and enjoyed 
 the admiration he there excited, and pocketed the 
 groats he there collected. He had no pride none 
 in the least, this Friar Bungey ! and was as affable, 
 as a magician could be, to the meanest mechanic 
 who crossed his broad horn palm. A vulgar man 
 is never unpopular with the vulgar. Moreover, 
 the Friar, who was a very cunning person, wished 
 to keep well with the mob : he was fond of his own 
 impudent, cheating, burly carcase, and had the 
 prudence to foresee that a time might come when 
 his royal patrons might forsake him, and a mob 
 might be a terrible monster to meet in his path ;
 
 254 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 therefore he always affected to love the poor, often 
 told their fortunes gratis, noAv and then gave them 
 something to drink, and was esteemed a man ex- 
 ceedingly good-natured, because he did not always 
 have the devil at his back. 
 
 Now Friar Bungey had, naturally enough, 
 evinced, from the first, a great distaste and jealousy 
 of Adam Warner ; but occasionally profiting by the 
 science of the latter, he suffered his resentment to 
 sleep latent till it was roused into fury by learning 
 the express favour shewn to Adam by the King, and 
 the marvellous results expected from his contriv- 
 ance. His envy, then, forbad all tolerance and 
 mercy ; the world was not large enough to contain 
 two such giants Bungey and Warner the genius 
 and the quack. To the best of our experience, the 
 quacks have the same creed to our own day. He 
 vowed deep vengeance upon his associate, and 
 spared no arts to foment the popular hatred against 
 him. Friar Bungey would have been a great critic 
 in our day ! 
 
 But besides his jealousy, the fat Friar had another 
 motive for desiring poor Adam's destruction ; he 
 coveted his model ! True, he despised the model, 
 he jeered the model, he abhorred the model ; but, 
 nevertheless, for the model, every string in his 
 bowels fondly yearned. He believed that if that 
 model were once repaired, and in his possession.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 255 
 
 he could do what he knew not but certainly all 
 that was wanting to complete his glory, and to 
 bubble the public. 
 
 Unconscious of all that was at work against 
 him, Adam threw his whole heart and soul into 
 his labour, and, happy in his happiness, Sybill 
 once more smiled gratefully upon Hastings, from 
 whom the rapture came.
 
 256 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 VII. 
 
 A LOVE SCENE. 
 
 MORE than ever chafed against Katherine, Has- 
 tings surrendered himself, without reserve, to the 
 charm he found in the society of Sybill. Her 
 confidence being again restored, again her mind 
 shewed itself to advantage, and the more because 
 her pride was farther roused, to assert the equality 
 with Rank and Gold which she took from Nature 
 and from God. 
 
 It so often happens that the first love of woman 
 is accompanied with a bashful timidity, which over- 
 comes the effort, while it increases the desire, to 
 shine, that the union has been called inseparable, 
 in the hackneyed language of every love-tale. But 
 this is no invariable rule, as Shakspeare has shewn 
 us in the artless Miranda, in the eloquent Juliet, 
 in the frank and healthful Rosalind; and the love 
 of Sybill was no common girl's spring-fever of sighs 
 and blushes. It lay in the mind, the imagination,
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 257 
 
 the intelligence, as well as in the heart and fancy. 
 It was a breeze that stirred from the modest leaves 
 of the rose all their diviner odour. It was impossible 
 but what this strong, fresh, young nature, with its 
 free gaiety when happy its earnest pathos when 
 sad its various faculties of judgment and senti- 
 ment, and covert play of innocent wit should not 
 contrast forcibly, in the mind of a man who had 
 the want to be amused and interested, with the 
 cold pride of Katherine, the dull atmosphere in 
 which her stiff, unbending virtue, breathed unin- 
 tellectual air, and still more with the dressed pup- 
 pets, with painted cheeks and barren talk, who filled 
 up the common world, under the name of women. 
 His feelings for Sybill, therefore, took a more 
 grave and respectful colour, and his attentions, if 
 gallant ever, were those of a man wooing one 
 whom he would make his wife, and studying the 
 qualities in which he was disposed to entrust his 
 happiness ; and so pure was Sybill's affection, that 
 she could have been contented to have lived for 
 ever thus have seen and heard him daily have 
 talked but the words of friendship, though with 
 the thoughts of love ; for some passions refine 
 themselves through the very fire of the imagina- 
 tion into which the senses are absorbed, and by the 
 ideal purification elevated up to spirit. Wrapped 
 in the exquisite happiness she now enjoyed, Sybill 
 perceived not, or, if perceiving, scarcely heeded
 
 258 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 that the admirers, who had before fluttered round 
 her, gradually dropped off that the ladies of the 
 Court, the damsels who shared her light duties, 
 grew distant and silent at her approach that 
 strange looks were bent on her that sometimes, 
 when she and Hastings were seen together, the 
 stern frowned and the godly crossed themselves. 
 
 The popular prejudices had reacted on the Court. 
 The wizard's daughter was held to share the gifts 
 of her sire, and the fascination of beauty was im- 
 puted to evil spells. Lord Hastings was regarded, 
 especially by all the ladies he had once courted and 
 forsaken, as a man egregiously bewitched ! 
 
 One day, it chanced that Sybill encountered 
 Hastings in the walk that girded the ramparts of 
 the Tower. He was pacing musingly, with folded 
 arms, when he raised his eyes and beheld her. 
 
 u And whither go you thus alone, fair mis- 
 tress?" 
 
 " The Duchess bade me seek the Queen, who is 
 taking the air yonder. My lady has received some 
 tidings she would impart to her Highness." 
 
 " I was thinking of thee, fair damsel, when thy 
 face brightened on my musings, and I was com- 
 paring thee to others, who dwell in the world's high 
 places; and marvelling at the whims of fortune." 
 
 Sybill smiled faintly, and answered, " Provoke 
 not too much the aspiring folly of my nature. Con- 
 tent is better than ambition."
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 259 
 
 " Thou ownest thy ambition ?" asked Hastings, 
 curiously. 
 
 " Ah, sir, who hath it not ?" 
 
 " But, for thy sweet sex, ambition has so narrow 
 and cribbed a field." 
 
 " Not so, for it lives in others. I would say," 
 continued Sybill, colouring, fearful that she had 
 betrayed herself, " that, for example, so long as my 
 father toils for fame, I breathe in his hope, and am 
 ambitious for his honour." 
 
 " And so, if thou wert wedded to one worthy of 
 thee, in his ambition thou wouldst soar and dare ?" 
 
 " Perhaps," answered Sybill, coyly. 
 
 " But, if thou wert wedded to sorrow, and po- 
 verty, and troublous care, thine ambition, thus 
 struck dead, would, of consequence, strike dead 
 thy love ?" 
 
 "Nay, noble lord, nay canst thou so wrong 
 womanhood in me unworthy ? for surely true ambi- 
 tion lives not only in the goods of fortune. Is there 
 no nobler ambition than that of the vanity? Is 
 there no ambition of the heart ? an ambition to 
 console, to cheer the griefs of those who love and 
 trust us ? an ambition to build a happiness out of 
 the reach of fate? an ambition to soothe some 
 high soul, in its strife with a mean world to lull to 
 sleep its pain, to smile to serenity its cares ? Oh, 
 methinks a woman's true ambition would rise the 
 bravest when, in the very sight of death itself, the
 
 260 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 voice of Him in whom her glory had dwelt through 
 life should say, ' Thou fearest not to walk to the 
 grave, and to heaven, by my side !'" 
 
 Sweet and thrilling were the tones in whieh these 
 words were said lofty and solemn the upward and 
 tearful look with which they closed. 
 
 And the answer struck home to the native and 
 original heroism of the listener's nature, before 
 debased into the cynic sourness of worldly wisdom. 
 Never had Katherine herself more forcibly re- 
 called to Hastings the pure and virgin glory of his 
 youth, 
 
 " Oh, Sybill !" he exclaimed, passionately, and 
 yielding to the impulse of the moment " oh, that 
 for me, as to me, such high words were said ! Oh 
 that all the triumphs of a life men call prosperous 
 were excelled by the one triumph of waking such 
 an ambition in such a heart !" 
 
 Sybill stood before him transformed pale, trem- 
 bling, mute and Hastings, clasping her hand and 
 covering it with kisses, said 
 
 " Dare I arede thy silence ? Sybill, thou lovest 
 me! Oh, Sybill, speak!" 
 
 With a convulsive effort, the girl's lips moved, 
 then closed, then moved again, into low and broken 
 words. 
 
 " Why this why this ? Thou hadst promised 
 not to not to " 
 
 " Not to insult thee by unworthy vows ! Nor
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 261 
 
 do I ! But as my wife" he paused abruptly, 
 alarmed at his own impetuous words, and scared 
 by the Phantom of the World that rose like a bodily 
 thing before the generous impulse, and grinned in 
 scorn of his folly. 
 
 But Sybill heard only that one holy word of 
 WIFE, and so sudden and so great was the transport 
 it called forth, that her senses grew faint and dizzy, 
 and she would have fallen to the earth but for the 
 arms that circled her, and the breast upon which, 
 now, the virgin might veil the blush that did not 
 speak of shame. 
 
 With various feelings, both were a moment silent. 
 But, oh, that moment! what centuries of bliss 
 were crowded into it for the nobler and fairer 
 nature ! 
 
 At last, gently releasing herself, she put her 
 hands before her eyes, as if to convince herself she 
 was awake, and then, turning her lovely face full 
 upon the wooer, Sybill said, ingenuously 
 
 " Oh, my lord oh, Hastings ! if thy calmer 
 reason repent not these words if thou canst ap- 
 prove in me what thou didst admire in Elizabeth 
 the Queen if thou canst raise one who has no 
 dower but her heart, to the state of thy wife and 
 partner by this hand, which I place fearlessly in 
 thine, I pledge to thee such a love as minstrel hath 
 never sung. No !" she continued, drawing loftily 
 up her light stature, " no, thou shall not find me
 
 262 THE LAST OP THE BARONS. 
 
 unworthy of thy name mighty though it is, 
 mightier though it shall be ! I have a mind that 
 can share thine objects, I have pride that can 
 exult in thy power, courage to partake thy dan- 
 gers, and devotion " she hesitated, with the 
 most charming blush " but of that, sweet lord, 
 thou shalt judge hereafter ! This is my dowry ! 
 it is all I" 
 
 " And all I ask or covet," said Hastings. But 
 his cheek had lost its first passionate glow. Lord 
 of many a broad land and barony, victorious cap- 
 tain in many a foughten field, wise statesman in 
 many a thoughtful stratagem, high in his King's 
 favour, and linked with a nation's history William 
 de Hastings at that hour was as far below, as earth 
 is to heaven, the poor maiden whom he already 
 repented to have so honoured, and whose sublime 
 answer woke no echo from his heart. 
 
 Fortunately, as he deemed it, at that very instant 
 he heard many steps rapidly approaching, and his 
 own name called aloud by the voice of the King's 
 body squire. 
 
 " Hark, Edward summons me," he said, with a 
 feeling of reprieve. " Farewell, dear Sybill, fare- 
 well for a brief while we shall meet anon." 
 
 At this time, they were standing in that part of 
 the rampart walk which is now backed by the bar- 
 racks of a modern soldiery, and before which, on 
 the other side of the moat, lay a space that had
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 263 
 
 seemed solitary and deserted ; but, as Hastings, 
 in speaking his adieu, hurriedly pressed his lips 
 on Sy bill's forehead from a hostel without the 
 fortress, and opposite the spot on which they 
 stood, suddenly sallied a disorderly troop of half- 
 drunken soldiers, with a gang of the wretched wo- 
 men that always continue the classic association of 
 a false Venus with a brutal Mars ; and the last 
 words of Hastings were scarcely spoken, before a 
 loud laugh startled both himself and Sybill, and a 
 shudder came over her when she beheld the tinsel 
 robes of the tymbesteres glittering in the sun, and 
 heard their leader sing, as she darted from the 
 arms of a reeling soldier : 
 
 " Ha ! Death to the dove 
 
 Is the falcon's love. 
 Oh ! sharp is the kiss of the falcon's beak !" 
 
 END OF BOOK VI.
 
 BOOK THE SEVENTH. 
 
 THE POPULAR REBELLION. 
 
 VOL. II.

 
 BOOK THE SEVENTH. 
 
 THE WHITE LION OF MAKCH SHAKES HIS MANE. 
 
 " AND what news ?" asked Hastings, as he found 
 himself amidst the King's squires ; while yet was 
 heard the laugh of the tymbesteres, and yet, glid- 
 ing through the trees, might be seen the retreating 
 form of Sybill. 
 
 " My Lord, the King needs you instantly. A 
 courier has just arrived from the North. The Lords 
 St. John, Rivers, De Fulke, and Scales, are already 
 with his Highness." 
 
 " Where ?" 
 
 " In the great council chamber." 
 
 To that memorable room,* in the White Tower, 
 in which the visitor, on entrance, is first reminded 
 
 * It was from this room that Hastings was hurried to execu- 
 tion, June 13, 1483. 
 
 N2
 
 268 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 of the name and fate of Hastings, strode the un- 
 prophetic lord. 
 
 He found Edward not reclining on cushions and 
 carpets not womanlike in loose robes and with 
 his lazy smile upon his sleek beauty. The King 
 had doffed his gown, and stood erect in the tight 
 tunic, which gave in full perfection the splendid 
 proportions of a frame unrivalled for activity and 
 strength. Before him, on the long table, lay two 
 or three open letters beside the dagger with which 
 Edward had cut the silk that bound them. Around 
 him gravely sate Lord Rivers, Anthony Woodville, 
 Lord St. John, Raoul de Fulke, the young and 
 valiant D'Eyncourt, and many other of the prin- 
 cipal lords. Hastings saw at once that something 
 of pith and moment had occurred ; and by the 
 fire in the King's eye, the dilation of his nostril, 
 the cheerful and almost joyous pride of his mien 
 and brow, the experienced courtier read the signs 
 of WAR. 
 
 " Welcome, brave Hastings," said Edward, in a 
 voice wholly changed from its wonted soft affecta- 
 tion loud, clear, and thrilling as it went through 
 the marrow and heart of all who heard its stirring 
 and trumpet accent " Welcome now to the field, 
 as ever to the banquet ! We have news from the 
 North, that bid us brace on the burgonot, and 
 buckle-to the brand a revolt that requires a 
 King's arm to quell. In Yorkshire, fifteen thousand 

 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 269 
 
 men arc in arms, under a leader they call Robin 
 of Redesdale the pretext, a thrave of corn de- 
 manded by the Hospital of St. Leonard's the 
 true design, that of treason to our realm. At the 
 same time, we hear from our brother of Gloucester, 
 now on the border, that the Scotch have lifted 
 the Lancaster Rose. There is peril if these two 
 armies meet ; no time to lose they arc saddling 
 our warsteeds we hasten to the van of our royal 
 force. We shall^ have warm work, my lords. But 
 who is worthy of a throne that cannot guard it !" 
 
 " This is sad tidings indeed, sire," said Hastings, 
 gravely. 
 
 *' Sad ! Say it not, Hastings ! War is the chase 
 of knights and nobles ! Sir Raoul de Fulke ! why 
 lookest thou brooding and sorrowful ?" 
 
 " Sire, I but thought that had Earl Warwick 
 been in England, this " 
 
 " Ha I" interrupted Edward, haughtily and has- 
 tily " and is Warwick the sun of heaven that 
 no cloud can darken where his face may shine ? 
 The rebels shall need no foe, my realm no re- 
 gent, while I, the Heir of the Plantagenets, have 
 the sword for one, the sceptre for the other. We 
 depart this evening ere the sun be set." 
 
 " My Liege," said the Lord St. John, gravely 
 " on what forces do you count to meet so formi- 
 dable an array ?" 
 
 All England, Lord of St. John !"
 
 270 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 " Alack ! my Liege, may you not deceive your- 
 self ! But in this crisis, it is right that your leal 
 and trusty subjects should speak out and plainly. 
 It seems that these insurgents clamour not against 
 yourself, but against the Queen's relations yes, 
 my Lord Rivers, against you and your house, and 
 I fear me that the hearts of England are with them 
 here." 
 
 " It is true, Sire," put in Raoul de Fulke, boldly 
 " and if these new men are to head your armies, 
 the warriors of Teuton will stand aloof Raoul dc 
 Fulke serves no Woodville's banner. Frown not, 
 Lord de Scales ! it is the griping avarice of you 
 and yours that have brought this evil on the King. 
 For you the Commons have been pillaged for 
 you the daughters of our peers have been forced 
 into monstrous marriages, at war with birth and 
 with nature herself. For you, the princely Warwick, 
 near to the throne in blood, and front and pillar 
 of our time-honoured order of Seigneur and 
 of Knight, has been thrust from our Suzerain's 
 favour. And if now ye are to march at the van 
 of war you to be avengers of the strife of which 
 ye are the cause I say that the soldiers will lack 
 heart, and the provinces ye pass through, will be 
 the country of a foe !" 
 
 " Vain man !" began Anthony Woodville, when 
 Hastings laid his hand on his arm, Avhilc Edward, 
 amazed at this outburst from two of the supporters
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 271 
 
 on whom he principally counted, had the prudence 
 to suppress his resentment and remained silent, 
 but with the aspect of one resolved to command 
 obedience, when he once deemed it right to inter- 
 fere. 
 
 " Hold, Sir Anthony !" said Hastings, who, the 
 moment he found himself with men, woke to all 
 the manly spirit and profound wisdom that had 
 rendered his name illustrious " hold, and let me 
 have the word ; my Lords St. John and De Fulke, 
 your charges are more against me than against 
 these gentlemen, for I am a new man a squire 
 by birth and proud to derive mine honours 
 from the same origin as all true nobility I mean 
 the grace of a noble liege, and the happy fortune of 
 a soldier's sword. It may be," (and here the artful 
 favourite, the most beloved of the whole Court, in- 
 clined himself meekly) " it may be that I have not 
 borne those honours so mildly as to disarm blame. 
 In the war to be, let me atone. My liege, hear 
 your servant : give me no command let me be a 
 simple soldier, fighting by your side. My example 
 who will not follow ? proud to ride but as a man 
 of arms along the track which the sword of his 
 Sovereign shall cut through the ranks of battle ? 
 Not you, Lord de Scales, redoubtable and in- 
 vincible with lance and axe; let us new men 
 soothe envy by our deeds; and you, Lords St. 
 John and De Fulke you shall teach us how your
 
 272 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 fathers led warriors Avho did not fight more gal- 
 lantly than we will. And when rebellion is at rest 
 when we meet again in our Suzerain's hall accuse 
 us new men, if you can find us faulty, and we 
 will answer you as we best may !" 
 
 This address, which could have come from no 
 man with such effect as from Hastings, touched 
 all present. And though the Woodvillcs, father 
 and son, saw in it much to gall their pride, and 
 half believed it a snare for their humiliation, they 
 made no opposition. Raoul de Fulke, ever 
 generous as fiery, stretched forth his hand, and 
 said 
 
 " Lord Hastings, you have spoken well. Be it 
 as the King wills." 
 
 " My Lords," returned Edward, gaily, " my 
 will is that ye be friends while a foe is in the 
 field. Hasten, then, I beseech you, one and all, 
 to raise your vassals, and join our standard at 
 Fotheringay. I will find ye posts that shall con- 
 tent the bravest." 
 
 The King made a sign to break up the con- 
 ference, and, dismissing even the Woodvilles, was 
 left alone with Hastings. 
 
 " Thou hast served me at need, Will," said the 
 King. " But I shall remember" (and his eye 
 flashed a tiger's fire) " the mouthing of those mock- 
 pieces of the Lords at Runnymede. I am no 
 John, to be bearded by my vassals. Enough of
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 273 
 
 them now. Think you Warwick can have abetted 
 this revolt ?" 
 
 "A revolt of peasants and yeomen ! No, sire. 
 If he did so, farewell for ever to the love the 
 Barons bear him." . 
 
 " Um ! and yet Montagu, whom I dismissed ten 
 days since to the Borders, hearing of disaffection, 
 hath done nought to check it. But come what 
 may, his must be a bold lance that shivers against 
 a King's mail. And now one kiss of my Lady 
 Bessee, one cup of the bright canary, and then 
 God and St. George for the White Rose !"
 
 274 THE LAST OF TUB BARONS. 
 
 II. 
 
 THE CAMP AT OLNEY. 
 
 IT was some weeks after the citizens of London had 
 seen their gallant King, at the head of such forces 
 as were collected in haste in the metropolis, depart 
 from their walls to the encounter of the rebels. 
 Surprising and disastrous had been the tidings in 
 the interim. At first, indeed, there were hopes 
 that the insurrection had been put down by Mon- 
 tagu, who had defeated the troops of Robin of 
 Redesdale, near the City of York, and was said to 
 have beheaded their leader. But the spirit of 
 discontent was only fanned by an adverse wind. 
 The popular hatred to the Woodvilles was so great, 
 that in proportion as Edward advanced to the 
 scene of action, the country rose in arms as Raoul 
 de Fulke had predicted. Leaders of lordly 
 birth now headed -the rebellion ; the sons of the 
 Lords Latimer and Fitzhugh, (near kinsmen of 
 the House of Nevile,) lent their names to the
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 275 
 
 cause ; and Sir John Coniers, an experienced sol- 
 dier, whose claims had been disregarded by Ed- 
 ward, gave to the insurgents the aid of a formid- 
 able capacity for war. In every mouth was the 
 story of the Duchess of Bedford's witchcraft ; and 
 the waxen figure of the Earl did more to rouse the 
 people, than perhaps the Earl himself could have 
 done in person.* As yet, however, the language of 
 the insurgents was tempered with all personal 
 respect to the King ; they declared in their mani- 
 festoes that they desired only the banishment of 
 the Woodvilles, and the recall of Warwick, whose 
 name they used unscrupulously, and whom they 
 declared they were on their way to meet. As soon 
 as it was known that the kinsmen of the beloved 
 Earl were in the revolt, and naturally supposed 
 that the Earl himself must countenance the enter- 
 prise, the tumultuous camp swelled every hour, 
 while knight after knight, veteran after veteran, 
 abandoned the Royal Standard. The Lord d'Eyn- 
 court, (one of the few lords of the highest birth and 
 greatest following, over whom the Neviles had no 
 influence, and who bore the Woodvilles no grudge,) 
 had, in his way to Lincolnshire, where his personal 
 aid was necessary to rouse his vassals, infected by 
 
 * See Parliamentary Rolls, vi. 232, for the accusations of 
 witchcraft, and the fabrication of a necromantic image of Lord 
 Warwick, circulated against the Duchess of Bedford. She her- 
 self quotes, and complains of, them.
 
 276 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 the common sedition, been attacked and wounded 
 by a body of marauders, and thus Edward's 
 camp lost one of its greatest leaders. Fierce dis- 
 pute broke out in the King's councils ; and, when 
 the witch Jacquetta's practices against the Earl 
 travelled from the hostile into the royal camp, 
 Raoul de Fulke, St John, and others, seized with 
 pious horror, positively declared they would throw 
 doAvn their arms and retire to their castles, unless 
 the Woodvilles were dismissed from the camp, and 
 the Earl of Warwick was recalled to England. To 
 the first demand the King was constrained to 
 yield; with the second he temporized. He 
 marched from Fotheringay to Newark; but the 
 signs of disaffection, though they could not dis- 
 may him as a soldier, altered his plans as a captain 
 of singular military acuteness ; he fell back on 
 Nottingham, and dispatched, with his own hands, 
 letters to Clarence, the Archbishop of York, and 
 Warwick. To the last he wrote touchingly. " We 
 do not believe" (said the letter) " that ye should 
 be of any such disposition toward us, as the rumour 
 here runneth, considering the trust and affection 
 we bear you and cousin, ne think ye shall be to 
 us welcome."* But ere these letters reached 
 
 * Paston Letters, ccxcviii., (Knight's edition,) vol. ii., p. 5 ( J. 
 See also Lingard, vol. iii., p. 522, (4to edition,) note 43, for 
 the proper date to be assigned to Edward's letter to Warwick,
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 277 
 
 the destination, the crown seemed well nigh lost. 
 At Edgecote, the Earl of Pembroke was defeated 
 and slain, and five thousand Royalists were left on 
 the field. Earl Rivers, and his son, Sir John 
 Woodville,* who, in obedience to the royal order, 
 had retired to the Earl's country seat of Grafton, 
 were taken prisoners, and beheaded by the ven- 
 geance of the insurgents. The same lamentable 
 fate befel the Lord Stafford, on whom Edward re- 
 lied as one of his most puissant leaders ; and 
 London heard with dismay, that the King, with 
 but a handful of troops, and those lukewarm and 
 disaffected, was begirt on all sides by hostile and 
 marching thousands. 
 
 From Nottingham, however, Edward made good 
 his retreat to a village called Olney, which chanced 
 at that time to be partially fortified with a wall 
 and a strong gate. Here the rebels pursued him ; 
 and Edward, hearing that Sir Anthony Woodville, 
 who conceived that the fate of his father and 
 brother cancelled all motive for longer absence 
 
 * This Sir John Woodville was the most obnoxious of the 
 Queen's brothers, and infamous for the avarice which had led 
 him to marry the old Duchess of Norfolk, an act which, accord- 
 ing to the old laws of chivalry, would have disabled him from 
 entering the lists of knighthood, for the ancient code disqualified 
 and degraded any knight who should marry an old woman for 
 her money ! Lord Rivers was the more odious to the people 
 at the time of the insurrection, because, in his capacity of trea- 
 surer, he had lately tampered with the coin and circulation.
 
 278 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 from the contest, was busy in collecting a force 
 in the neighbourhood of Coventry, while other 
 assistance might be daily expected from London, 
 strengthened the fortifications as well as the time 
 would permit, and awaited the assault of the insur- 
 gents. 
 
 It was at this crisis, and while throughout all 
 England reigned terror and commotion that one 
 day, towards the end of July, a small troop of 
 horsemen were seen riding rapidly towards the 
 neighbourhood of Olney. As the village came 
 in view of the cavalcade, with the spire of its 
 church, and its grey stone gateway, so, also, they 
 beheld, on the pastures that stretched around wide 
 and far, a moving forest of pikes and plumes. 
 
 " Holy Mother !" said one of the foremost 
 riders, " Good knight and strong man though Ed- 
 ward be, it were sharp work to cut his way from 
 that hamlet through yonder fields ! Brother, we 
 were more welcome, had we brought more bills and 
 bows at our backs !" 
 
 " Archbishop," answered the stately personage 
 thus addressed, " we bring w r hat alone raises armies 
 and disbands them a NAME that a People honours ! 
 From the moment the White Bear is seen on yon- 
 der archway, side by side with the King's banner 
 that army will vanish as smoke before the wind." 
 
 " God grant it, Warwick!" said the Duke of 
 Clarence, " for, though Edward hath used us sorely,
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 279 
 
 it chafes me as Plantagenet and as Prince, to see 
 how peasants and varlets can hem round a king." 
 
 " Peasants and varlets are pawns in the chess- 
 board, cousin George," said the Prelate, " and 
 knight and bishop find them mighty useful, when 
 pushing forward to an attack. Now knight and 
 bishop appear themselves and take up the game 
 Warwick," added the Prelate, in a whisper, unheard 
 by Clarence, " forget not, while appeasing rebel- 
 lion, that the King is in your power." 
 
 " For shame, George ! I think not now of the 
 unkind King; I think only of^ the brave boy I 
 dandled on my knee, and whose sword I girded on 
 at Touton. How his lion heart must chafe, con- 
 demned to see a foe whom his skill as captain 
 tells him it were madness to confront!" 
 
 " Ay, Richard Nevile ! ay," said the Prelate, 
 with a slight sneer, " play the Paladin, and become 
 the dupe release the Prince, and betray the 
 People !" 
 
 " No ! I can be true to both. Tush ! brother, 
 your craft is slight to the plain wisdom of bold 
 honesty. You slacken your steeds, sirs, on on 
 see, the march of the rebels ! On, for an Edward 
 and a Warwick !" and spurring to full speed, the 
 little company arrived at the gates. The loud 
 bugle of the new comers was answered by the 
 cheerful note of the joyous warder, while dark,
 
 280 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 slow, and solemn, over the meadows, crept on the 
 mighty cloud of the rebel army. 
 " We have forestalled the insurgents !" said the 
 Earl, throwing himself from his black steed. " Mar- 
 maduke Nevile, advance our banner ; heralds, 
 announce the Duke of Clarence, the Archbishop of 
 York, and the Earl of Salisbury and Warwick." 
 
 Through the anxious town, along the crowded 
 walls and housetops, into the hall of an old mansion 
 (that then adjoined the church,) where the King, in 
 complete armour, stood at bay, with stubborn and 
 disaffected officers, rolled the thunder cry " A 
 Warwick a Warwick ! all saved ! a Warwick !" 
 
 Sharply, as he heard the clamour, the King 
 turned upon his startled council. " Lords and 
 captains !" said he, with that inexpressible majesty 
 which he could command in his happier hours, 
 " God and our Patron Saint have sent us at least 
 one man who has the heart to fight against fifty, 
 the odds of yon miscreant rabble, by his King's 
 side, and for the honour of loyalty and knight- 
 hood!" 
 
 " And who says, sire," answered Raoul dc Fulke, 
 " that we your lords and captains would not risk 
 blood and life for our King and our knighthood in 
 a just cause ? But we will not butcher our coun- 
 trymen for echoing our own complaint, and pray- 
 ing your Grace that a grasping and ambitious
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 281 
 
 family which you have raised to power may no 
 longer degrade your nobles and oppress your 
 Commons. We shall see if the Earl of Warwick 
 blame us or approve !" 
 
 " And I answer," said Edward, loftily, " that 
 whether Warwick approve or blame, come as friend 
 or foe, I will sooner ride alone through yonder 
 archway, and carve out a soldier's grave amongst 
 the ranks of rebellious war, than be the puppet of 
 my subjects, and serve their will by compulsion. 
 Free am I free ever will I be, while the crown of 
 the Plantagenet is mine, to raise those whom I 
 love, to defy the threats of those sworn to obey 
 me. And were I but Earl of March, instead of 
 King of England, this Hall should have sw r am 
 with the blood of those who have insulted the 
 friends of my youth the wife of my bosom. Off, 
 Hastings ! I need no mediator with my servants. 
 Nor here, nor anywhere in broad England, have I 
 my equal, and the King forgives or scorns construe 
 it as ye will, my lords Avhat the simple gentleman 
 would avenge." 
 
 It were in vain to describe the sensation that 
 this speech produced. There is ever something 
 in courage and in will that awes numbers, though 
 brave themselves. And what with the unques- 
 tioned valour of Edward what with the effect of 
 his splendid person, towering above all present by 
 the head, and moving lightly, with each impulse,
 
 282 THE LAST OF THE BAIION8. 
 
 through the mass of a mail that few there could 
 have borne unsinking, this assertion of absolute 
 power in the midst of mutiny an army inarch- 
 ing to the gates imposed an unwilling reverence 
 and sullen silence, mixed with anger, that, while it 
 chafed, admired. They who, in peace, had despised 
 the voluptuous monarch, feasting in his palace, 
 and reclining on the lap of harlot-beauty, felt that 
 in war, all Mars seemed living in his person. 
 Then, indeed, he was a King; and had the 
 foe, now darkening the landscape, been the 
 noblest chivalry of France, not a man there 
 but had died for a smile from that haughty lip. 
 But the barons were knit heart in heart with the 
 popular outbreak, and to put down the revolt 
 seemed to them but to raise the Woodvilles. The 
 silence was still unbroken, save where the persuasive 
 whisper of Lord Hastings might be faintly heard in 
 remonstrance with the more powerful or the more 
 stubborn of the chiefs when the tread of steps 
 resounded without, and, unarmed, bareheaded, the 
 only form in Christendom grander and statelier 
 than the King's, strode into the Hall. 
 
 Edward, as yet unaware what course Warwick 
 would pursue, and half doubtful whether a revolt 
 that had borrowed his name, and was led by his 
 kinsmen, might not originate in his consent, sur- 
 rounded by those to whom the Earl was especially 
 dear, and aware that if Warwick were against him
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 283 
 
 all was lost, still relaxed not the dignity of his 
 mien ; and leaning on his large two-handed sword, 
 with such inward resolves as brave kings and gal- 
 lant gentlemen form, if the worst should befall, he 
 watched the majestic strides of his great kinsman, 
 and said, as the Earl approached, and the mutinous 
 captains louted low 
 
 " Cousin, you are welcome ! for truly do I know 
 that when you have aught whereof to complain, 
 you take not the moment of danger and disaster. 
 And whatever has chanced to alienate your heart 
 from me, the sound of the rebel's trumpet chases 
 all difference, and marries your faith to mine." 
 
 " Oh, Edward, my King, why did you so mis- 
 judge me in the prosperous hour !" said Warwick, 
 simply, but with affecting earnestness ; " since in 
 the adverse hour you arede me well ?" 
 
 As he spoke, he bowed his head, and, bending 
 his knee, kissed the hand held out to him. 
 
 Edward's face grew radiant, and raising the 
 Earl, he glanced proudly at the barons who stood 
 round, surprised and mute. 
 
 " Yes, my lords and sirs, see it is not the Earl 
 of Warwick, next to our royal brethren, the nearest 
 subject to the throne, who would desert me in the 
 day of peril !" 
 
 " Nor do ice, Sire," retorted Raoul de Fulke ; 
 " you wrong us before our mighty comrade if you 
 so misthink us. We will fight for the King, but not
 
 284 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 for the Queen's kindred ; and this alone brings on 
 us your anger." 
 
 " The gates shall be opened to ye. Go ! War- 
 wick and I are men enough for the rabble yonder." 
 
 The Earl's quick eye, and profound experience 
 of his time, saw at once the dissension and its 
 causes. Nor, however generous, was he willing to 
 forego the present occasion for permanently de- 
 stroying an influence which he knew hostile to him- 
 self and hurtful to the realm. His was not the ge- 
 nerosity of a boy, but of a statesman. Accord- 
 ingly, as Raoul de Fulke ceased, he took up the 
 word. 
 
 " My Liege, we have yet an hour good ere the 
 foe can reach the gates. Your brother and mine 
 accompany me. See, they enter ! Please you, a 
 few minutes to confer with them ; and suffer me, 
 meanwhile, to reason with these noble captains." 
 
 Edward paused ; but before the open brow of 
 the Earl fled whatever suspicion might have 
 crossed the King's mind. 
 
 "Be it so, cousin: but remember this: to 
 councillors who can menace me with desertion in 
 such an hour, I concede nothing." 
 
 Turning hastily away, he met Clarence and the 
 Prelate, midway in the hall, threw his arm caress- 
 ingly over his brothers shoulder, and, taking the 
 Archbishop by the hand, walked with them to- 
 wards the battlements.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 285 
 
 " Well, my friends," said Warwick, and what 
 would you of the King ?" 
 
 " The dismissal of all the Woodvilles, except the 
 Queen the revocation of the grants and lands 
 accorded to them, to the despoiling the ancient 
 noble and, but for your presence, we had de- 
 manded your recal." 
 
 " And, failing these, what your resolve ?" 
 
 " To depart, and leave Edward to his fate. 
 These granted, we doubt little but that the insur- 
 gents will disband. These not granted, w r e but 
 waste our lives against a multitude whose cause 
 we must approve." 
 
 " The cause ! But ye know not the real cause," 
 answered Warwick. " I know it ; for the sons 
 of the North are familiar to me, and their rising 
 hath deeper meaning than ye deem. What ! have 
 they not decoyed to their head my kinsmen, the 
 heirs of Latimer and Fitzhugh, and bold Coniers, 
 whose steel casque should have circled a wiser 
 brain? Have they not taken my name as their 
 battle-cry ? And do ye think this falsehood veils 
 nothing but the simple truth of just complaint ?" 
 
 " Was their rising, then," asked St. John, in 
 evident surprise, " wholly unauthorized by you ?" 
 
 " So help me Heaven ! If I would resort to 
 arms to redress a wrong, trow not that I myself 
 would be absent from the field. No, my lords, 
 friends, and captains time presses ; a few words
 
 286 THE LAST OP THE BARONS. 
 
 must suffice to explain what, as yet, may be dark 
 to you. I have letters from Montagu and others, 
 which reached me the same day as the King's, and 
 which clear up the purpose of our misguided coun- 
 trymen. Ye know well that ever in England, but 
 especially since the reign of Edward III., strange, 
 wild notions of some kind of liberty other than 
 that we enjoy, have floated loose through the land. 
 Among the commons, a half conscious recollection 
 that the nobles are a different race from themselves 
 feeds a secret rancour and mislike, which at any 
 fair occasion for riot, shews itself bitter and ruth- 
 less as in the outbreak of Cade and others. And if 
 the harvest fail, or a tax gall, there are never want- 
 ing men to turn the popular distress to the ends of 
 private ambition or state design. Such a man has 
 been the true head and front of this commotion." 
 
 " Speak you of Robin Redesdale, now dead?" 
 asked one of the captains. 
 
 " He is not dead.* Montagu informs me that 
 the report was false. He was defeated off York, 
 and retired for some days into the woods ; but it is 
 he who has enticed the sons of Latimer and Fitz- 
 
 * The fate of Robin of Redesdale has been as obscure as most 
 of the incidents in this most perplexed part of English history. 
 While some of the chroniclers finish his career according to the 
 report mentioned in the text, "Fabyan not only more charitably 
 prolongs his life, but rewards him with the king's pardon ; and 
 accordingto the annals of his ancient and distinguished family, 
 (who will pardon, we trust, a licence with one of their ancestry
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS, 287 
 
 hugh into the revolt, and resigned his own com- 
 mand to the martial cunning of Sir John Corners. 
 This Robin of Redesdale is no common man. He 
 hath had a clerkly education he hath travelled 
 among the Free Towns of Italy he hath deep 
 purpose in all he doth ; and among his projects is 
 the destruction of the nobles here, as it was whilome 
 effected in Florence, the depriving us of all offices 
 and posts, with other changes, wild to think of, 
 and long to name." 
 
 " And we would have suffered this man to 
 triumph !" exclaimed De Fulke : " we have been to 
 blame." 
 
 " Under fair pretence he has gathered numbers, 
 and now wields an army. I have reason to know 
 that, had he succeeded in estranging ye from 
 Edward, and had the King fallen, dead or alive, 
 into his hands, his object would have been to re 
 store Henry of Windsor, but on conditions that 
 would have left king and baron little more than 
 pageants in the state. I knew this man years ago. 
 I have watched him since ; and, strange though it 
 may seem to you, he hath much in him that I ad- 
 
 equally allowed by history and romance,) as referred to in 
 Wotton's English Baronetage, (Art., Hilyard,) and which pro- 
 bably rests upon the authority of the life of Richard III., in 
 Stowe's Annals, he is represented as still living in the reign 
 of that king; But the whole account of this famous dema- 
 gogue in Wotton is, it rnyst be owned, full pf historical 
 mistakes.
 
 288 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 mire as a subject and should fear we^3 I a king. 
 Brief, thus runs my counsel : For our sake and the 
 realm's safety we must see this armed multitude 
 disbanded that done, we must see the grievances 
 they with truth complain of fairly redressed. Think 
 not, my lords, I avenge my own wrongs alone, 
 when I go with you in your resolve to banish from 
 the King's councils the baleful influence of the 
 Queen's kin. Till that be compassed, no peace for 
 England. As a leprosy, their avarice crawls over 
 the nobler parts of the state, and devours while it 
 sullies. Leave this to me; and, though we will 
 redress ourselves, let us now assist our King !" 
 
 With one voice, the unruly officers clamoured 
 their assent to all the Earl urged, and expressed 
 their readiness to sally at once from the gates, and 
 attack the rebels. 
 
 " But," observed an old veteran, " what are we 
 amongst so many ? Here a handful there an 
 army !" 
 
 " Fear not, reverend sir," answered Warwick, 
 with an assured smile ; " is not this army in part 
 gathered from my own province of Yorkshire ? Is 
 it not formed of men who have' eaten my bread 
 and drank of my cup ? Let me see the man who 
 will discharge one arrow at the walls which contain 
 Richard Nevile of Warwick. Now each to your 
 posts I to the King." 
 
 Like the pouring of new blood into a decrepit
 
 THE LAST OF TUE BARONS. 289 
 
 body seemed the arrival, at that feeble garrison, 
 of the Earl of Warwick. From despair into the 
 certainty of triumph leaped every heart. Already, 
 at the sight of his banner floating by the side of 
 Edward's, the gunner had repaired to his bombard 
 the archer had taken up his bow the village itself, 
 before disaffected, poured all its scanty population 
 women, and age, and children to the walls. 
 And when the Earl joined the King upon the 
 ramparts, he found that able general sanguine and 
 elated, and pointing out to Clarence the na- 
 tural defences of the place. Meanwhile the rebels, 
 no doubt apprized by their scouts of the new aid, 
 had already halted in their march, and the dark 
 swarm might be seen indistinctly undulating, as 
 bees ere they settle, amidst the verdure of the 
 plain. 
 
 "^Well, cousin," said the King, " have ye brought 
 these Hotspurs to their allegiance ?" 
 
 " Sire, yes ;" said Warwick, gravely, " but we 
 have here no force to resist yon army." 
 
 " Bring you not succours ?" said the King, 
 astonished. " You must have passed through 
 London. Have you left no troops upon the road ?" 
 
 " I had no time, Sire ; and London is well nigh 
 palsied with dismay. Had I waited to collect 
 troops, I might have found a king's head blackening 
 over those gates." 
 
 " Well," returned Edward, carelessly, " few or 
 VOL. n. o
 
 290 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 many, one gentleman is more worth than a hun- 
 dred varlets. ' We are enow for glory,' as Henry 
 said, at Agin court." 
 
 " No, Sire ; you are too skilful and too wise to 
 believe your boast. These men we cannot con- 
 quer we may disperse them." 
 
 " By what spell ?" 
 
 "By their King's word to redress their com- 
 plaints." 
 
 " And banish my Queen ?" 
 
 " Heaven forbid that man should part whom God 
 has joined," returned Warwick. " Not my lady, 
 your Queen, but my lady's kindred." 
 
 " Rivers is dead, and gallant John," said Ed- 
 ward, sadly " is not that enough for revenge !" 
 
 " It is not revenge we require, but pledges for ' 
 the land's safety," answered Warwick. " And to be 
 plain, without such a promise these walls may be 
 your tomb." 
 
 Edward walked apart, strongly debating within 
 himself. In his character were great contrasts; 
 no man was more frank in common no man more 
 false when it suited no man had more levity in 
 wanton love, or more firm affection for those he 
 once thoroughly took to his heart. He was the re- 
 verse of grateful for service yielded, yet he was 
 warm in protecting those on whom service was 
 conferred. He was resolved not to give up the 
 Wooclvilles, and, after a short self-commune, he
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 291 
 
 equally determined not to risk his crown and life 
 by persevering in resistance to the demand for their 
 downfall. Inly obstinate, outwardly yielding, he 
 concealed his falsehood with his usual soldierly 
 grace. 
 
 " Warwick," he said, returning to the Earl's side, 
 " you cannot advise me to what is misbeseeming, 
 and therefore, in this strait, I resign my con- 
 duct to your hands. I will not unsay to yon 
 mutinous gentlemen what I have already said ; 
 but what you judge it right to promise in my 
 name to them, or to the insurgents, I will not sup- 
 pose that mine honour will refuse to concede. But 
 go not hence, O noblest friend that ever stood by a 
 king's throne ! go not hence till the grasp of your 
 hand assures me that all past unkindness is gone 
 and buried ; yea, and by this hand, and while its 
 pressure is warm in mine, bear not too hard on thy 
 King's affection for his lady's kindred." 
 
 "Sire," said Warwick, though his generous 
 nature well nigh melted into weakness, and it was 
 with an effort that he adhered to his purpose 
 " Sire, if dismissed for awhile, they shall not be 
 degraded. And if it be, on consideration, wise 
 to recall from the family of Woodville your grants 
 of lands and lordships, take from your Warwick 
 who, rich in his King's love, hath enow to spare 
 take the double of what you would recall. O, be 
 frank with me be true be steadfast, Edward, 
 o2
 
 292 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 and dispose of my lands whenever you would con- 
 tent a favourite." 
 
 " Not to impoverish thee, my Warwick," an- 
 swered Edward, smiling, " did I call thee to my 
 aid ; for the rest, my revenues as Duke of York 
 are at least mine to bestow. Go now to the hos- 
 tile camp go as sole minister and Captain-General 
 of this realm go with all powers and honours a 
 King can give ; and when these districts are at 
 peace, depart to our Welch provinces, as Chief Jus- 
 ticiary of that principality. Pembroke's mournful 
 death leaves that high post in my gift. It cannot 
 add to your greatness, but it. proves to England 
 your Sovereign's trust." 
 
 " And while that trust is given," said Warwick, 
 with tears in his eyes, " may Heaven strengthen 
 my arm in battle, and sharpen my brain in council. 
 But I play the laggard. The sun wanes westward ; 
 it should not go down while a hostile army me- 
 naces the son of Richard of York." 
 
 The Earl strode rapidly away, reached the broad 
 space where his followers still stood, dismounted, 
 but beside their steeds 
 
 " Trumpets advance pursuivants and heralds go 
 before Marmaduke, mount ! The rest I need not. 
 We ride to the insurgent camp."
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 293 
 
 III. 
 
 THE CAMP OF THE REBEL!. 
 
 THE rebels had halted about a mile from the town, 
 and were already pitching their tents for the night. 
 It was a tumultuous, clamorous, but not altogether 
 undisciplined array ; for Corners was a leader of 
 singular practice in reducing men into the ma- 
 chinery of war, and where his skill might have 
 failed, the prodigious influence and energy of 
 Robin of Redesdale ruled the passions and united 
 the discordant elements. This last was, indeed, 
 in much worthy the respect in which Warwick 
 held his name. In times more ripe for him, he 
 had been a mighty demagogue and a successful 
 regenerator. His birth was known but to few ; 
 his education and imperious temper made him 
 vulgarly supposed of noble origin ; but had he 
 descended from a king's loins, Robert Hilyard had 
 still been the son of the Saxon people. Warwick 
 overrated, perhaps, Hilyard's wisdom ; for, de- 
 spite his Italian experience, his ideas were far
 
 294 THE LAST OF TUB BARONS. 
 
 from embracing any clear and definite system of 
 democracy. He had much of the frantic levelism 
 and jacquerie of his age and land, and could pro- 
 bably not have explained to himself all the changes 
 he desired to effect ; but, coupled with his hatred 
 to the nobles, his deep and passionate sympathy 
 with the poor, his heated and fanatical chimeras 
 of a republic, half-political and half-religious, he 
 had, with no uncommon inconsistency, linked the 
 cause of a dethroned king. For as the Covenanters 
 leagued with the Stuarts against the succeeding and 
 more tolerant dynasty never relinquishing their own 
 anti-monarchic theories; as in our time, the extreme 
 party on the popular side has leagued with the ex- 
 treme of the aristocratic, in order to crush the me- 
 dium policy, as a common foe ; so the bold leveller 
 united with his zeal for Margaret the very cause 
 which the House of Lancaster might be supposed 
 the least to favour. He expected to obtain from a 
 sovereign, dependent upon a popular reaction for 
 restoration, great popular privileges. And as the 
 church had deserted the Red Rose for the White, he 
 sought to persuade many of the Lollards, ever ready 
 to shew their discontent, that Margaret, (in revenge 
 on the hierarchy,) would extend the protection they 
 had never found in the previous sway of her husband 
 and Henry V. Possessed of extraordinary craft, 
 and even cunning in secular intrigues energetic, 
 versatile, bold, indefatigable, and, above all, mar-
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 295 
 
 vellously gifted with the arts that inflame, stir up, 
 and guide the physical force of masses, Hobert 
 Hilyard had been, indeed, the soul and life of the 
 present revolt ; and his prudent moderation in re- 
 signing the nominal command to those whose 
 military skill and high birth raised a riot into the 
 dignity of rebellion, had given that consistency 
 and method to the rising which popular move- 
 ments never attain without aristocratic aid. 
 
 In the principal tent of the encampment the 
 leaders of the insurrection were assembled. 
 
 There was Sir John Coniers, who had married 
 one of the Neviles, the daughter of Fauconberg, 
 Lord High Admiral, but who had profited little by 
 this remote connexion with Warwick ; for, with all 
 his merit, he was a greedy, grasping man, and he 
 had angered the hot Earl in pressing his claims too 
 imperiously. This renowned knight was a tall, 
 gaunt man, whose iron frame sixty winters had not 
 bowed ; there, were the young heirs of Latimer and 
 Fitzhugh, in gay gilded armour and scarlet man- 
 telines ; and there, in a plain cuirass, trebly welded, 
 and of immense weight, but the lower limbs, left 
 free and unencumbered, in thick leathern hose, 
 stood Robin of Redesdale. Other captains there 
 were, whom different motives had led to the com- 
 mon confederacy, There, might be seen the secret 
 Lollard, hating either Rose, stern and sour, and 
 acknowledging no leader but Hilyard, whom he
 
 296 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 knew as a Lollard's son ; there might be seen the 
 ruined spendthrift, discontented with fortune, and 
 regarding civil war as the cast of a die death for 
 the forfeiture, lordships for the gain; there, the 
 sturdy Saxon squire, oppressed by the little baron 
 of his province, and rather hopeful to abase a 
 neighbour than dethrone a king, of whom he knew 
 little, and for whom he cared still less ; and there, 
 chiefly distinguished from the rest by grizzled 
 beard, upturned moustache, erect mien, and grave, 
 not thoughtful aspect, were the men of a former 
 period the soldiers who had fought against the 
 Maid of Arc now without place, station, or hope, 
 in peaceful times, already half robbers by profes- 
 sion, and decoyed to any standard that promised 
 action, pay, or plunder. 
 
 The conclave were in high and warm debate. 
 
 " If this be true," said Coniers, who stood at the 
 head of the table, his helmet, axe, truncheon, and 
 a rough map of the walls of Olney before him " if 
 this be true if our scouts are not deceived if the 
 Earl of Warwick is in the village, and if his banner 
 float beside King Edward's I say bluntly, as 
 soldiers should sppak, that I have been deceived 
 and juggled !" 
 
 " And by whom, Sir Knight and cousin ?'' said 
 the Heir of Fitzhugh, reddening. 
 
 " By you, young kinsman, and this hot- 
 mouthcd dare-devil, Robin of Redesdale ! Ye 
 
 ' -
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 297 
 
 assured me, both, that the Earl approved the rising 
 that he permitted the levying yon troops in 
 his name that he knew well the time was come 
 to declare against the Woodvilles, and that no 
 sooner was an army mustered than he would place 
 himself at its head ; and, I say, if this be not true, 
 you have brought these grey hairs into dishonour I" 
 
 " And what, Sir John Coniers," exclaimed 
 Robin, rudely, " what honour had your grey hairs 
 till the steel cap covered them ? What honour, I 
 say, under lewd Edward and his lusty revellers ? 
 You were thrown aside, like a broken scythe, Sir 
 John Coniers ! You were forsaken in your rust ! 
 Warwick himself, your wife's great kinsman, could 
 do nought in your favour ! You stand now, leader 
 of thousands, lord of life and death, master of 
 Edward and the throne ! We have done this for 
 you, and you reproach us !" 
 
 " And," began the Heir of Fitzhugh, encouraged 
 by the boldness of Hilyard, " we had all reason to 
 believe my noble uncle, the Earl of Warwick, 
 approved our emprise. When this brave fellow 
 (pointing to Robin) came to inform me that, with 
 his own eyes, he had seen the waxen effigies of my 
 great kinsman, the hellish misdeed of the Queen's 
 witch-dam, I repaired to my Lord Montagu ; and, 
 though that prudent courtier refused to declare 
 openly, he let me see that war with the Woodvilles 
 was not unwelcome to him." 
 o3
 
 298 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 " Yet this same Montagu," observed one of the 
 ringleaders, " when Hilyard was well-nigh at the 
 gates of York, sallied out and defeated him, sans 
 ruth, sans ceremony." 
 
 "Yes; but he spared my life, and beheaded 
 the dead body of poor Hugh Withers in my stead ; 
 for John Nevile is cunning, and he picks his nuts 
 from the brennen without lesing his own paw. It 
 was not the hour for him to join us, so he beat us 
 civilly, and with discretion. But what hath he 
 done since? He stands aloof while our army 
 swells while the Bull of the Neviles, and the 
 Ragged Staff of the Earl are the ensigns of our 
 war and while Edward gnaws out his fierce heart 
 in yon walls of Olney. How say ye, then, that 
 Warwick, even if now in person with the King, is 
 in heart against us ? Nay, he may have entered 
 Olney but to capture the Tyrant." 
 
 " If so," said Corners, " all is as it should be ; 
 but if Earl Warwick, who, though he hath treated 
 me ill, is a stour carle, and to be feared if not 
 loved, join the King, I break this wand, and ye 
 will, seek out another captain/' 
 
 " And a captain shall be found !" cried Robin. 
 " Are we so poor in valour that when one man 
 leaves us we are headless and undone ? What if 
 Warwick so betray us and himself he brings no 
 forces. And never, by God's blessing, should we
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 299 
 
 separate, till we have redressed the wrongs of our 
 countrymen ! ; ' 
 
 " Good !" said the Saxon squire, winking and 
 looking wise " not till we have burned to the 
 ground the Baron of Bullstock's castle." 
 
 " Not," said a Lollard, sternly " till we have 
 shortened the purple gown of the churchman not 
 till abbot and bishop have felt on their backs the 
 whip wherewith they have scourged the godly be- 
 liever and the humble saint." 
 
 " Not," added Robin, " till we have assured 
 bread to the poor man, and the filling of the flesh- 
 pot, and the law to the weak, and the scaffold to 
 the evil-doer." 
 
 " All this is mighty well," said, bluntly, Sir Geof- 
 frey Gates, the leader of the mercenaries, a skilful 
 soldier, but a predatory and lawless bravo " but 
 who is to pay me and my tall fellows ?" 
 
 At this pertinent question, there was a general 
 hush of displeasure and disgust. 
 
 " For look you, my masters," continued Sir 
 Geoffrey " as long as I and my comrades here 
 believed that the rich Earl, who hath half England 
 for his provant, was at the head or the tail of this 
 matter, we were contented to wait awhile ; but 
 devil a groat hath yet gone into my gipsire, and as 
 for pillage, what is a farm or a homestead ! an' it 
 were a church or a castle, there might be pickings." 
 
 " There is much plate of silver, and a sack or so
 
 300 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 of marks and royals in the stronghold of the Baron 
 of Bullstock," quoth the Saxon squire, doggedly 
 hounding on to his revenge. 
 
 " You see, my friends," said Coniers, vvitli a 
 smile, and shrugging his shoulders " that men 
 cannot gird a kingdom with ropes of sand. Sup- 
 pose we conquer and take captive nay, or slay 
 King Edward what then ?" 
 
 " The Duke of Clarence, male heir to the throne," 
 said the Heir of Latimer, " is Lord Warwick's son- 
 in-law, and therefore akin to you, Sir John." 
 
 " That is true !" observed Coniers, musingly. 
 
 " Not ill thought of, sir," said Sir Geoffrey 
 Gates " and my advice is to proclaim Clarence 
 King and Warwick Lord Protector. We have 
 some chance of the angels then." 
 
 " Besides," said the Heir of Fitzhugh, " our 
 purpose once made clear, it will be hard either for 
 Warwick or Clarence to go against us harder still 
 for the country not to believe them with us. Bold 
 measures are our wisest councillors." 
 
 " Urn !" said the Lollard " Lord Warwick is 
 a good man, and hath never, though his brother 
 be a bishop, abetted the church tyrannies. But 
 as for George of Clarence " 
 
 " As for Clarence," said Hilyard, who saw, with 
 dismay and alarm, that the rebellion he designed 
 to turn at the fitting hour to the service of Lan- 
 caster, might now only help to shift, from one
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 301 
 
 shoulder to the other, the hated dynasty of York 
 " as for Clarence, he hath Edward's vices with- 
 out his manhood." He paused, and seeing that the 
 crisis had ripened the hour for declaring himself, 
 his bold temper pushed at once to its object. 
 " No !" he continued, folding his arms, raising his 
 head, and comprehending the whole council in his 
 keen and steady gaze " no ! Lords and Gentle- 
 men since speak I must, in this emergency, hear 
 me calmly. Nothing hath prospered in England 
 since we abandoned our lawful king. If we rid 
 ourselves of Edward, let it not be to sink from a 
 harlot-monger to a drunkard. In the Tower 
 pines our true Lord, already honoured as a 
 saint. Heaj me, I say hear me out ! On the 
 frontiers, an army that keeps Gloucester at bay, 
 hath declared for Henry and Margaret. Let us, 
 after seizing Olney, march thither at once, and 
 unite forces. Margaret is already prepared to 
 embark for England. I have friends in London 
 who will attack the Tower, and deliver Henry. 
 To you, Sir John Coniers, in the Queen's name, I 
 promise an Earldom and the Garter. To you, the 
 Heirs of Latimer and Fitzhugh, the high posts 
 that beseem your birth ; to all of you Knights and 
 Captains, just share and allotment in the confis- 
 cated lands of the Woodvilles and the Yorkists. 
 To you, brethren," and addressing the Lollards, 
 his voice softened into a meaning accent, that,
 
 302 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 compelled to worship in secret, they yet under- 
 stood " shelter from your foes, and mild laws ; 
 and to you, brave soldiers, that pay which a King's 
 coffers alone can supply. Wherefore I say, down 
 with all subject banners ! up with the Red Rose 
 and the Antelope, and long live Henry the Sixth !" 
 
 This address, however subtle in its adaptation to 
 the various passions of those assembled, however 
 aided by the voice, spirit, and energy of the 
 speaker, took too much by surprise those present 
 to produce at once its effect. 
 
 The Lollards remembered the fires lighted for 
 their martyrs by the House "of Lancaster; and 
 though blindly confident in Hilyard, were not yet 
 prepared to respond to his call. The young Heir 
 of Fitzhugh, who had, in truth, but taken arms to 
 avenge the supposed wrongs of Warwick, whom he 
 idolized, saw no object gained in the rise of War- 
 wick's enemy Queen Margaret. The merce- 
 naries called to mind the woful state of Henry's 
 exchequer in the former time. The Saxon squire 
 muttered to himself " And what the devil is 
 to become of the Castle of Bullstock?" But 
 Sir Henry Nevile (Lord Latimer's son) who be- 
 longed to that branch of his house which had 
 espoused the Lancaster cause, and who was in 
 the secret councils of Hilyard, caught up the cry, 
 and said " Hilyard doth not exceed his powers ; 
 and he who strikes for the Red Rose, shall carve
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 303 
 
 out his own lordship from the manors of every 
 Yorkist that he slays!" Sir John Coniers hesi- 
 tated : poor, long neglected, ever enterprising and 
 ambitious, he was dazzled by the proffered bribe 
 but age is slow to act, and he expressed himself 
 with the measured caution of grey hairs. 
 
 " A king's name," said he, " is a tower of 
 strength, especially when marching against a king ; 
 but this is a matter for general assent and grave 
 forethought." 
 
 Before any other (for ideas did not rush at once 
 to words in those days) found his tongue, a mighty 
 uproar was heard without. It did not syllable it- 
 self into distinct sound; it uttered no name it 
 was such a shout as numbers alone could raise, 
 and to such a shout would some martial leader 
 have rejoiced to charge to battle, so full of depth 
 and fervour, and enthusiasm, and good heart, it 
 seemed, leaping from rank to rank, from breast to 
 breast, from earth to heaven. With one accord 
 the startled captains made to the entrance of the 
 tent, and there they saw, in the broad space before 
 them, girded by the tents which were grouped in 
 a wide semicircle, for the mass of the hardy rebel 
 army slept in the open air, and the tents were but 
 for leaders they saw, we say, in that broad space, 
 a multitude kneeling, and in the midst, upon his 
 good steed Saladin, bending graciously down, the 
 martial countenance, the lofty stature, of the Earl
 
 304 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 of Warwick. Those among the captains, who knew 
 him not personally, recognised him by the popular 
 description by the black war-horse, whose le- 
 gendary fame had been hymned by every minstrel ; 
 by the sensation his appearance had created ; by the 
 armorial insignia of his heralds, grouped behind 
 him, and whose gorgeous tabards blazed with his 
 cognizance and quarterings in azure, or, and argent. 
 The sun was slowly setting, and poured its rays 
 upon the bare head of the mighty noble, gathering 
 round it in the hazy atmosphere like a halo. The 
 homage of the crowd to that single form, unarmed, 
 and scarce attended, struck a death-knell to the 
 hopes of Hilyard struck awe into all his com- 
 rades ! The presence of that one man seemed to 
 ravish from them, as by magic, a vast army ; power 
 and state, and command, left them suddenly to be 
 absorbed in HIM ! Captains, they were troopless 
 the wielder of men's hearts was amongst them, and 
 from his Barb assumed reign, as from his throne ! 
 
 " Gads, my life !" said Comers, turning to his 
 comrades, " we have now, with a truth, the Earl 
 amongst us ; but, unless he come to lead us on to 
 Olney, I would as lief see the King's provost at 
 my shoulder." 
 
 " The crowd separates he rides this way I" 
 said the Heir of Fitzhugh. " Shall we go forth to 
 meet him ?" 
 
 " Not so !" exclaimed Hilyard, " we are still
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 305 
 
 the leaders of this army ; let him find us deliberat- 
 ing on the siege of Olney !" 
 
 "Right!" said Corners; "and if there come 
 dispute, let not the rabble hear it." 
 
 The captains re-entered the tent, and in grave 
 silence awaited the Earl's coming ; nor was this 
 suspense long. Warwick, leaving the multitude in 
 the rear, and taking only one of the subaltern 
 officers in the rebel camp as his guide and usher, 
 arrived at the tent, and was admitted into the 
 council. 
 
 The captains, Hilyard alone excepted, bowed 
 with great reverence as the Earl entered. 
 
 " Welcome, puissant sir, and illustrious kins- 
 man !" said Coniers, who had decided on the line 
 to be adopted " you are come at last to take the 
 command of the troops raised in your name, and 
 into your hands I resign this truncheon." 
 
 " I accept it, Sir John Corners," answered War- 
 wick, taking the place of dignity ; " and since you 
 thus constitute me your commander, I proceed at 
 once to my stern duties. How happens it, knights 
 and gentlemen, that in my absence ye have dared 
 to make my name the pretext of rebellion ? Speak 
 thou, my sister's son !" 
 
 " Cousin and lord," said the Heir of Fitzhugh, 
 reddening but not abashed, " we could not believe 
 but what you would smile on those who have risen 
 to assert your wrongs and defend your life." And
 
 306 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 he then briefly related the tale of the Duchess of 
 Bedford's waxen effigies, and pointed to Hilyard as 
 the eye-witness. 
 
 " And," began Sir Henry Nevile, " you, mean- 
 while, were banished, seemingly, from the King's 
 Court; the dissensions between you and Edward 
 sufficiently the land's talk the King's vices, the 
 land's shame !" 
 
 " Nor did we act without at least revealing our 
 intentions to my uncle and your brother, the Lord 
 Montagu," added the Heir of Fitzhugh. 
 
 " Meanwhile," said Robin of Redesdale, " the 
 Commons were oppressed, the People discontented, 
 the Woodvilles plundering us, and the King wast- 
 ing our substance on concubines and minions. 
 We have had cause enow for our rising !" 
 
 The Earl listened to each speaker in stern silence. 
 
 " For all this," he said at last, " you have, with- 
 out my leave or sanction, levied armed men in my 
 name, and would have made Richard Nevile seem 
 to Europe a traitor, without the courage to be a 
 rebel ! Your lives are in my power, and those lives 
 are forfeit to the laws." 
 
 " If we have incurred your disfavour from our 
 over-zeal for you," said the Son of Lord Fitzhugh, 
 touchingly, " take our lives, for they are of little 
 worth." And the young nobleman unbuckled his 
 sword, and laid it on the table. 
 
 " But," resumed Warwick, not seeming to heed
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 307 
 
 his nephew's humility, " I, who have ever loved 
 the People of England, and before King and Par- 
 liament have ever pleaded their cause I, as cap- 
 tain-general and first officer of these realms, here 
 declare, that whatever motives of ambition or in- 
 terest may have misled men of mark and birth, I 
 believe that the Commons at least never rise in 
 arms without some excuse for their error. Speak 
 out then, you, their leaders ; and putting aside all 
 that relates to me as the one man, say what are 
 the grievances of which the many would complain." 
 And now there was silence, for the knights 
 and gentlemen knew little of the complaints 
 of the populace ; the Lollards did not dare 
 to expose their oppressed faith, and the squires 
 and franklins were too uneducated to detail the 
 grievances they had felt. But then, the immense 
 superiority of the Man of the People at once 
 asserted itself; and Hilyard, whose eye the Earl 
 had hitherto shunned, lifted his deep voice. With 
 clear precision, in indignant, but not declamatory 
 eloquence, he painted the disorders of the time 
 the insolent exactions of the hospitals and abbeys 
 the lawless violence of each petty baron the 
 weakness of the royal authority in restraining op- 
 pression its terrible power in aiding the op- 
 pressor. He accumulated instance on instance of 
 misrule ; he shewed the insecurity of property ; the 
 adulteration of the coin; the burthen of the imposts;
 
 308 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 he spoke of wives and maidens violated of in- 
 dustry defrauded of houses forcibly entered of 
 barns and granaries despoiled of the impunity of 
 all offenders, if high-born of the punishment of 
 all complainants, if poor and lowly. " Tell us 
 not," he said, " that this is the necessary evil of the 
 times, the hard condition of mankind. It was other- 
 wise, Lord Warwick, when Edward first swayed ; for 
 you then made yourself dear to the people by your 
 justice. Still men talk, hereabouts, of the golden 
 rule of Earl Warwick ; but since you have been, 
 though great in office, powerless in deed, absent in 
 Calais, or idle at Middleham, England hath been 
 but the plaything of the Woodvilles, and the 
 King's ears have been stuffed with flattery as with 
 wool. And," continued Hilyard, warming with 
 his subject, and, to the surprise of the Lollards, 
 entering boldly on their master-grievance " and 
 this is not all. When Edward ascended the throne, 
 there was, if not justice, at least repose, for the 
 persecuted believers who hold that God's Word was 
 given to man to read, study, and digest into godly 
 deeds. I speak plainly. I speak of that faith 
 which your great father, Salisbury, and many of 
 the House of York, were believed to favour that 
 faith which is called the Lollard, and the oppres- 
 sion of which, more than aught else, lost to Lan- 
 caster the Hearts of England. But of late, the 
 Church, assuming the power it ever grasps the
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 309 
 
 most under the most licentious kings, (for the 
 Sinner Prince hath ever the Tyrant Priest !) hath 
 put in vigour old laws, for the wronging man's 
 thought and conscience ;* and we sit at our doors' 
 under the shade, not of the vine-tree, but the 
 gibbet. For all these things we have drawn the 
 sword ; and if now, you, taking advantage of the 
 love borne to you by the sons of England, push 
 that sword back into the sheath, you, generous, 
 great, and princely though you be, well deserve 
 the fate that I foresee and can foretell. Yes !" 
 cried the speaker, extending his arms, and gazing 
 fixedly on the proud face of the Earl, which "was 
 not inexpressive of emotion " yes ! I see you, 
 having deserted the people, deserted by them also, 
 in your need I see you, the hate and the dupe of 
 an ungrateful King, stripped of power and honour, 
 an exile and an outlaw; and when you call in 
 vain upon the people, in whose hearts you now 
 reign, remember, O fallen Star, Son of the Morn- 
 ing ! that in the hour of their might you struck 
 down the people's right arm, and paralyzed their 
 power. And now, if you will, let your friends 
 
 * The Lollards had greatly contributed to seat Edward on 
 the throne ; and much of the subsequent discontent, no doubt, 
 arose from their disappointment, when, as Sharon Turner well 
 expresses it, " his indolence allied him to the church," and he 
 became," herelicorum severissimus hostis" Croyl. p. 564.
 
 310 THE LAST OP THE BARONS. 
 
 and England's champions glut the scaffolds of 
 your Woman-King !" 
 
 He ceased a murmur went round the conclave ; 
 every breast breathed hard every eye turned to 
 Warwick. That mighty statesman mastered the 
 effect the thrilling voice of the popular pleader 
 produced on him ; but at that moment he had need 
 of all his frank and honourable loyalty to remind 
 him that he was there but to fulfil a promise and 
 discharge a trust that he was the King's delegate, 
 not the King's judge. 
 
 " You have spoken, bold men," said he, " as, in 
 an hour when the rights of princes are weighed in 
 one scale, the subject's swords in the other, I, were 
 I king, would wish free men to speak. And now 
 you, Robert Hilyard, and you, gentlemen, hear me, 
 as envoy to King Edward IV. To all of you I pro- 
 mise complete amnesty and entire pardon. His 
 Highness believes you misled, not criminal, and your 
 late deeds will not be remembered in your future 
 services. So much for the leaders. Now for the 
 commons. My liege the King is pleased to re- 
 call me to the high powers I once exercised, and to 
 increase rather than to lessen them. In his name, 
 I pledge myself to full and strict inquiry into all 
 the grievances Robin of Redesdale hath set forth, 
 with a view to speedy and complete redress. Nor is 
 this all. His Highness, laying aside his purpose of
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 311 
 
 war with France, will have less need of imposts on 
 his subjects, and the burthens and taxes will be 
 reduced. Lastly his Grace, ever anxious to 
 content his people, hath most benignly empowered 
 me to promise that, whether or no ye rightly 
 judge the Queen's kindred, they will no longer 
 have part or weight in the King's councils. The 
 Duchess of Bedford, as beseems a lady so sorrow- 
 fully widowed, will retire to her own home ; and 
 the Lord Scales will fulfil a mission to the Court 
 of Spain. Thus, then, assenting to all reasonable 
 demands promising to heal all true grievances 
 proffering you gracious pardon I discharge my 
 duty to King and to People. I pray that these 
 unhappy sores may be healed evermore, under the 
 blessing of God and our Patron Saint ; and in the 
 name of Edward the Fourth, Lord Suzerain of 
 England, and of France, I break up this truncheon 
 and disband this army !" 
 
 Among those present, this moderate and wise 
 address produced a general sensation of relief; for 
 the Earl's disavowal of the revolt took away all 
 hope of its success. But the common approbation 
 was not shared by Hilyard. He sprang upon the 
 table, and seizing the broken fragments of the 
 truncheon which the Earl had snapped as a willow 
 twig, exclaimed " And thus, in the name of the 
 people, I seize the command that ye unworthily 
 resign ! Oh, yes, what fools were yonder drudges
 
 312 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 of the hard hand and the grimed brow, and the 
 leather jerkin, to expect succour from knight and 
 noble !" 
 
 So saying, he bounded from the tent, and rushed 
 towards the multitude at the distance. 
 
 " Ye, knights and lords, men of blood and birth, 
 were but the tools of a manlier and wiser Cade !" 
 said Warwick, calmly. " Follow me !" 
 
 The Earl strode from the tent, sprang on his 
 steed, and was in the midst of the troops with his 
 heralds by his side, ere Hilyard had been enabled 
 to begin the harangue he had intended. Warwick's 
 trumpets sounded to silence ; and the Earl himself, 
 in his loud clear voice, briefly addressed the immense 
 audience. Master, scarcely less than Hilyard, of 
 the popular kind of eloquence, which short, plain, 
 generous and simple cuts its way at once through 
 the feelings to the policy, Warwick briefly but forci- 
 bly recapitulated to the Commons the promises he 
 had made to the captains ; and as soon as they 
 heard of taxes removed, the coinage reformed, the 
 corn thrave abolished, the Woodvilles dismissed, 
 and the Earl recalled to power, the rebellion was at 
 an end. They answered with a joyous shout his 
 order to disperse and retire to their homes forth- 
 with. But the indomitable Hilyard, ascending a 
 small eminence, began his counter agitation. The 
 Earl saw his robust form and waving hand he 
 saw the crowd sway towards him ; and too well
 
 T11E LAST OF THE BARONS. 313 
 
 acquainted with mankind to suffer his address, he 
 spurred to the spot, and turning to Mannadukc, 
 said, in a loud voice, " Marmaduke Nevile, arrest 
 that man in the King's name !" 
 
 Marmaduke sprang from his steed, and laid his 
 hand on Hilyard's shoulder. Not one of the 
 multitude stirred on behalf of their demagogue. 
 As before the sun recede the stars, all lesser lights 
 had died in the blaze of Warwick's beloved name. 
 Hilyard griped his dagger, and struggled an instant; 
 but when he saw the awe and apathy of the armed 
 mob, a withering expression of disdain passed over 
 his hardy face. 
 
 " Do ye suffer this ?" he said. " Do ye suffer 
 me, who have placed swords in your hands, to go 
 forth in bonds and to the death ?" 
 
 " The stout Earl wrongs no man," said a single 
 voice, and the populace echoed the word. 
 
 " Sir, then, I care not for life, since liberty is 
 gone. I yield myself your prisoner." 
 
 " A horse for my captive !" said Warwick, 
 laughing " and hear me promise you, that he 
 shall go unscathed in goods and in limbs. God 
 wot, when Warwick and the People meet, no vic- 
 tim should be sacrificed ! Hurrah for King Edward 
 and Fair England !" 
 
 lie waved his plumed cap as he spoke, and 
 within the walls of Olncy was heard the shout that 
 answered. 
 
 VOL, II. P
 
 314 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 Slowly the Earl and his scanty troop turned the 
 rein : as he receded, the multitude broke up 
 rapidly, and when the moon rose, that camp was 
 a solitude 1* 
 
 Such, ever grander in the individual than the 
 mass, is the power of Man above Mankind ! 
 
 * The dispersion -of the rebels at Olney is forcibly narrated 
 by a few sentences, graphic from their brief simplicity, in " The 
 Pictorial History of England," book v., p. 104. " They (War- 
 wick, &c.) repaired in a very friendly manner to Olney, where 
 they found Edward in a most unhappy condition ; his friends 
 were dead or scattered, flying for their lives, or hiding them- 
 selves in remote places : the insurgents were almost upon him. 
 A word from Warwick, sent the insurgents quietly back to the 
 North."
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 315 
 
 IV. 
 
 THE NORMAN EARL AND THE SAXON DEMAGOGUE 
 CONFER. 
 
 ON leaving the camp, Warwick rode in advance of 
 his train, and his countenance was serious and full 
 of thought. At length, as a turn in the road hid 
 the little band from the view of the rebels, the 
 Earl motioned to Marmaduke to advance with his 
 prisoner. The young Nevile then fell back, and 
 Robin and Warwick rode breast to breast, out of 
 hearing of the rest. 
 
 " Master Hilyard, I am well content that my 
 brother, when you fell into his hands, spared your 
 life, out of gratitude for the favour you once 
 shewed to mine." 
 
 "Your noble brother, my Lord," answered Robin, 
 drily "is, perhaps, not aware of the service I once 
 rendered you. Methinks he spared me rather, be- 
 cause, without me, an enterprise which has shaken 
 the Woodvilles from their roots around the throne, 
 and given back England to the Neviles, had been 
 p2
 
 316 THE LAST OF THE BARONS, 
 
 nipped in the bud! Your brother is a deep 
 thinker!" 
 
 " I grieve to hear thee speak thus of the Lord 
 Montagu. I know that he hath wilier devices than 
 become, in my eyes, a well-born knight and a 
 sincere man ; but he loves his King, and his ends 
 are juster than his means. Master Hilyard, enough 
 of the past evil. Some months after the Field 
 of Hexham, I chanced to fall, when alone, amongst 
 a band of roving and fierce Lancastrian outlaws. 
 Thou, their leader, recognising the crest on my 
 helm, and mindful of some slight indulgence 
 once shewn to thy strange notions of republican 
 liberty, didst save me from the swords of thy fol- 
 lowers : from that time, I have sought in vain to 
 mend thy fortunes. Thou hast rejected all mine 
 offers, and I know well that thou hast lent thy 
 service to the fatal cause of Lancaster. Many a 
 time I might have given thec to the law, but gra- 
 titude for thy aid in the needful strait, and to 
 speak sooth, my disdain of all individual efforts 
 to restore a fallen House, made me turn my eyes 
 from transgressions, which once made known to the 
 King, placed thee beyond pardon. I see now that 
 thou art a man of head and arm to bring great danger 
 upon nations ; and though this time Warwick bids 
 thee escape and live, if once more thou offend, 
 know me only as the King's Minister. The debt be- 
 tween us is now cancelled. Yonder lies the path
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 317 
 
 that conducts to the forest. Farewell. Yet stay ! 
 poverty may have led thee into treason." 
 
 "Poverty," interrupted Hilyard "poverty, 
 Lord Warwick, leads men to sympathize with the 
 poor, and therefore I have done with riches." 
 He paused, and his breast heaved. " Yet," he 
 added, sadly, " now that I have seen the cowardice 
 and ingratitude of men, my calling seems over, 
 and my spirit crushed." 
 
 " Alas !" said Warwick, " whether man be rich 
 or poor, ingratitude is the vice of men ; and you, 
 who have felt it from the mob, menace me with it 
 from a king. But each must carve out his own 
 way through this earth, without over care for ap- 
 plause or blame ; and the Tomb is the sole judge of 
 Mortal Memory !" 
 
 Robin looked hard at the Earl's face, which was 
 dark and gloomy, as he thus spoke, and approach- 
 ing nearer, he said " Lord Warwick, I take from 
 you liberty and life the more willingly, because a 
 voice I cannot mistake tells me, and hath long 
 told, that, sooner or later, time will bind us to each 
 other. Unlike other nobles, you have owed your 
 power not so much to lordship, land, and birth, and 
 a king's smile, as to the love you have nobly won ; 
 you alone, true Knight and princely Christian 
 you alone, in war, have spared the humble you 
 alone, stalwart and resistless champion, have 
 directed your lance against your equals, and your
 
 318 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 order hath gone forth to the fierce of heart 
 < Never smite the Commons !' In peace, you alone 
 have stood up in your haughty parliament for just 
 law or for gentle mercy ; your castle hath had a 
 board for the hungry, and a shelter for the house- 
 less ; your pride, which hath bearded kings and 
 humbled upstarts, hath never had a taunt for the 
 lowly ; and therefore I Son of the People in the 
 People's name, bless you living, and sigh to ask 
 whether a People's gratitude will mourn you dead ! 
 Beware Edward's false smile beware Clarence's 
 fickle faith beware Gloucester's inscrutable wile. 
 Mark, the sun sets! and while we speak, yon 
 dark cloud gathers over your plumed head." 
 
 He pointed to the heavens as he ceased, and a 
 low roll of gathering thunder seemed to answer his 
 ominous warning. Without tarrying for the Earl's 
 answer, Hilyard shook the reins of his steed, and 
 disappeared in the winding of the lane through 
 which he took his way.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 319 
 
 V. 
 
 WHAT FAITH EDWARD IV. PURPOSETH TO KEEP WITH 
 EARL AND PEOPLB. 
 
 EDWARD received his triumphant Envoy with open 
 arms and profuse expressions of gratitude. He 
 exerted himself to the utmost in the banquet that 
 crowned the day, not only to conciliate the illus- 
 trious new comers, but to remove from the minds 
 of Raoul de Fulke and his officers all memory of 
 their past disaffection. No gift is rarer or more 
 successful in the intrigues of life than that which 
 Edward eminently possessed viz., the hypocrisy of 
 frankness. Dissimulation is often humble often 
 polished often grave, sleek, smooth, decorous ; 
 but it is rarely gay and jovial, a hearty laugher, 
 a merry, cordial, boon companion. Such, how- 
 ever, was the felicitous craft of Edward IV. ; and, 
 indeed, his spirits were naturally so high his good 
 humour so flowing that this joyous hypocrisy 
 cost him no effort. Elated at the dispersion of his 
 foes at the prospect of his return to his ordinary
 
 320 THE LAST OF TIIE BARONS. 
 
 life of pleasure there was something so kindly 
 and so winning in his mirth, that he subjugated 
 entirely the fiery temper of Raoul de Fulke and 
 the steadier suspicions of the more thoughtful St. 
 John. Clarence, wholly reconciled to Edward, 
 gazed on him with eyes swimming with affection, 
 and soon drank himself into uproarious joviality. 
 The Archbishop, more reserved, still animated the 
 society by the dry and epigrammatic wit not un- 
 common to his learned and subtle mind; but 
 Warwick, in vain, endeavoured to shake off an un- 
 easy, ominous gloom. He was not satisfied with 
 Edward's avoidance of discussion upon the grave 
 matters involved in the Earl's promise to the in- 
 surgents, and his masculine spirit regarded with 
 some disdain, and more suspicion, a levity that he 
 considered ill-suited to the emergence. 
 
 The banquet was over, and Edward, having dis- 
 missed his other attendants, was in his chamber 
 with Lord Hastings, whose office always admitted 
 him to the wardrobe of the King. 
 
 Edward's smile had now left his lip ; he paced 
 the room with a hasty stride, and then suddenly 
 opening the casement, pointed to the landscape 
 without, which lay calm and suffused in moon- 
 light. 
 
 "Hastings," said he, abruptly, "a few hours 
 since, and the earth grew spears ! Behold the 
 landscape now !"
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 321 
 
 " So vanish all the King's enemies !" 
 
 " Ay, man, ay if at the King's word, or before 
 the King's battle-axe ; but at a subject's com- 
 mand . No, I am not a King, while another 
 
 scatters armies in my realm, at his bare will. Tore 
 Heaven, this shall not last !" 
 
 Hastings regarded the countenance of Edward, 
 changed from affable beauty into terrible fierceness, 
 Avith reflections suggested by his profound and 
 mournful wisdom. "How little a man's virtues 
 profit him in the eyes of men !" thought he. " The 
 subject saves the crown, and the crown's wearer 
 never pardons the presumption !" 
 
 "You do not speak, sir!" exclaimed Edward, 
 irritated and impatient. " Why gaze you thus on 
 me ?" 
 
 " Beau Sire," returned the favourite, calmly, " I 
 was seeking to discover if your pride spoke, or 
 your nobler nature." 
 
 " Tush !" said the King, petulantly " the 
 noblest part of a King's nature is his pride as 
 King !" Again he strode the chamber, and again 
 halted. " But the Earl hath fallen into his own 
 snare he hath promised in my name what I will 
 not perform. Let the people learn that their idol 
 hath deceived them. He asks me to dismiss from 
 the Court the Queen's mother and kindred !" 
 
 Hastings, who in this went thoroughly with the 
 Earl and the popular feeling, and whose only 
 p3
 
 322 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 enemies in England were the Woodvilles, replied 
 simply 
 
 " These are cheap terms, Sire, for a King's life, 
 and the crown of England." 
 
 Edward started, and his eyes flashed that cold, 
 cruel fire, which makes eyes of a light colouring so 
 far more expressive of terrible passions than the 
 quicker and warmer heat of dark orbs. " Think 
 you so, sir ? By God's blood, he who proffered 
 them shall repent it in every vein of his body ! 
 Harkye, William Hastings de Hastings, I know 
 you a deep and ambitious man ; but better for you, 
 had you covered that learned brain under the cowl 
 of a mendicant friar, than lent one thought to 
 the counsels of the Earl of Warwick." 
 
 Hastings, who felt even to fondness the affection 
 which Edward generally inspired in those about 
 his person, and who, far from sympathizing, ex- 
 cept in hate of the Woodvilles, with the Earl, saw 
 that beneath that mighty tree no new plants could 
 push into their fullest foliage, reddened with anger 
 at this imperious menace. 
 
 " My Liege," said he, with becoming dignity and 
 spirit, " if you can thus address your most tried 
 confidant and your lealest friend, your most dan- 
 gerous enemy is yourself." 
 
 " Stay, man," said the King, softening, "I was 
 over warm, but the wild beast within me is chafed. 
 Would Gloucester were here !"
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 323 
 
 " I can tell you what would be the counsels of 
 that wise young Prince, for I know his mind," an- 
 swered Hastings. 
 
 " Ay, he and you love each other well. Speak 
 out." 
 
 " Prince Richard is a great reader of Italian lere. 
 He saith that those small states are treasuries of all 
 experience. From that lere Prince Richard would 
 say to you where a subject is so great as to be 
 feared, and too much beloved to be destroyed, the 
 King must remember how Tarpeia was crushed." 
 
 " I remember nought of Tarpeia, and I detest 
 parables." 
 
 " Tarpeia, sire, (it is a story of old Rome,) was 
 crushed under the weight of presents. Oh, my 
 Liege," continued Hastings, warming with that" 
 interest which an able man feels in his own su- 
 perior art, " were I king for a year, by the end of 
 it Warwick should be the most unpopular (and 
 therefore the weakest) lord in England!" 
 
 " And how, O wise in thine own conceit ?" 
 
 " Beau Sire," resumed Hastings, not heeding the 
 rebuke and strangely enough he proceeded to 
 point out, as the means of destroying the Earl's 
 influence, the very method that the Archbishop 
 had detailed to Montagu, as that which would 
 make the influence irresistible and permanent, 
 " Beau sire," resumed Hastings, " Lord Warwick 
 is beloved by the people, because they consider 

 
 324 THE LAST OP THE BARONS. 
 
 him maltreated; he is esteemed by the people, 
 because they consider him above all bribe ; he is 
 venerated by the people, because they believe that 
 in all their complaints and struggles he is inde- 
 pendent (he alone) of the King. Instead of love, 
 I would raise envy ; for instead of cold countenance 
 I would heap him with grace. Instead of esteem 
 and veneration I would raise suspicion, for I would 
 so knit him to your house, that he could not stir 
 hand or foot against you ; I would make his heirs 
 your brothers. The Duke of Clarence hath mar- 
 ried one daughter wed the other to Lord Richard. 
 Betroth your young princess to Montagu's son, 
 the representative of all the Nevilcs. The Earl's 
 immense possessions must thus ultimately pass to 
 your own kindred. The Earl himself will be no 
 longer a power apart from the throne, but a part 
 of it. The barons will chafe against one who half 
 ceases to be of their order, and yet monopolizes 
 their dignities ; the people will no longer see in 
 the Earl their champion, but a king's favourite 
 and deputy. Neither barons nor people will flock 
 to his banner." 
 
 " All this is well and wise," said Edward, musing, 
 "but meanwhile my Queen's blood am I to reign 
 in a solitude ? for look you, Hastings, you know 
 well that, uxorious as fools have deemed me, I had 
 purpose and design in the elevation of new families, 
 I wished to raise a fresh nobility to counteract the
 
 TUB LAST OF THE BARONS. 325 
 
 pride of the old, and only upon new nobles can a 
 new dynasty rely." 
 
 " 3Iy lord, I will not anger you again ; but still, 
 for awhile, the Queen's relations will do well to 
 retire." 
 
 " Good night, Hastings," interrupted Edward, 
 abruptly, " my pillow in this shall be my coun- 
 sellor." 
 
 Whatever the purpose solitude and reflection 
 might ripen in the King's mind, he was saved from 
 immediate decision by news, the next morning, 
 of fresh outbreaks. The Commons had risen in 
 Lincolnshire and the county of Warwick ; and 
 Anthony Woodvillc wrote word that, if the King 
 would but shew himself among the forces he had 
 raised near Coventry, all the gentry around would 
 rise against the rebellious rabble. Seizing advan- 
 tage of these tidings, borne to him by his own 
 couriers, and eager to escape from the uncertain 
 soldiery quartered at Olney, Edward, without 
 waiting to consult even with the Earl, sprang to 
 horse, and his trumpets were the first signal of 
 departure that he deigned to any one. 
 
 This want of ceremony displeased the pride of 
 Warwick ; but he made no complaint, and took 
 his place by the King's side, when Edward said, 
 shortly, but with that customary outward frank- 
 ness in which he cloaked his falsehood
 
 326 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 " Dear cousin, this is a time that needs all our 
 energies. I ride towards Coventry, to give head 
 and heart to the raw recruits I shall find there ; 
 but I pray you and the Archbishop to use all 
 means, in this immediate district, to raise fresh 
 troops ; for at your name armed men spring up 
 from pasture and glebe, dyke and hedge. Join 
 what troops you can collect in three days with 
 mine at Coventry, and, ere the sickle is in the 
 harvest, England shall be at peace. God speed 
 you ! Ho ! there, gentlemen, away ! franc 
 etrier /" 
 
 Without pausing for reply for he wished to 
 avoid all questioning, lest Warwick might dis- 
 cover that it was to a Woodville that he was 
 bound the King put spurs to his horse, and, 
 while his men were yet hurrying to and fro, 
 rode on almost alone, and was a good mile out of 
 the town before the force led by St. John and 
 Raoul de Fulke, and followed by Hastings, who 
 held no command, overtook him. 
 
 " I misthink the King," said Warwick, gloomily, 
 " but my word is pledged to the people, and it 
 shall be kept !" 
 
 " A man's word is best kept when his arm is 
 the strongest," said the sententious Archbishop; 
 " yesterday, you dispersed an army ; to-day, raise 
 one !"
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 327 
 
 Warwick answered not, but, after a moment's 
 thought, beckoned to Marmaduke. 
 
 " Kinsman," said he, " spur on, with ten of my 
 little company, to join the King. Report to me 
 if any of the Woodvilles be in his camp near 
 Coventry." 
 
 " Whither shall I send the report ?" 
 
 " To my castle of Warwick !" 
 
 Marmaduke bowed his head, and, accustomed to 
 the brevity of the Earl's speech, proceeded to the 
 task enjoined him. Warwick next summoned his 
 second squire. 
 
 " My lady and her children," said he, " are on 
 their way to Middleham. This paper will instruct 
 you of their progress. Join them with all the 
 rest of my troop, except my heralds and trum- 
 peters ; and say that I shall meet them ere long 
 at Middleham !" 
 
 " It is a strange way to raise an army," said 
 the Archbishop, drily, " to begin by getting rid 
 of all the force one possesses !" 
 
 " Brother," answered the Earl, " I would fain 
 shew my son-in-law, who may be the father of a 
 line of kings, that a general may^be helpless at the 
 head of thousands, but that a man may stand alone 
 who has the love of a nation." 
 
 " May Clarence profit by the lesson ! Where is 
 he all this while ?"
 
 328 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 " Abed," said the stout Earl, with a slight ac- 
 cent of disdain ; and then, in a softer voice, he 
 added " youth is ever luxurious. Better the 
 slow man than the false one." 
 
 Leaving Warwick to discharge the duty en- 
 joined him, \ve follow the dissimulating King.
 
 THE LAST OF TI1E BARONS. 329 
 
 VI. 
 
 WHAT BEFALS KING EDWARD ON HIS ESCAPE rROM 
 OLNEY. 
 
 As soon as Edward was out of sight of the spire of 
 Olney he slackened his speed, and beckoned 
 Hastings to his side. 
 
 " Dear Will," said the King, " I have thought 
 over thy counsel, and will find the occasion to 
 make experiment thereof. But, methinks, thou 
 wilt agree with me, that concessions come best 
 from a king who has an army of his own. Fore 
 Heaven ! in the camp of a Warwick I have less 
 power than a lieutenant ! Now mark me. I go to 
 head some recruits raised in haste near Coventry. 
 The scene of contest must be in the Northern 
 counties. Wilt thou, for love of me, ride night 
 and day, thorough brake thorough brier, to Glou- 
 cester, on the" Borders ? Bid him march, if the 
 Scot will let him, back to York ; and if he cannot 
 himself quit the borders, let him send what men 
 can be spared under thy banner. Failing this,
 
 330 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 raise through Yorkshire all the men at arms thou 
 canst collect. But, above all, see Montagu. Him 
 and his army secure at all hazards. If he demur, 
 tell him his son shall many his King's daughter, 
 and wear the coronal of a duke. Ha ! ha ! a large 
 bait for so large a fish ! I see this is no casual 
 outbreak, but a general convulsion of the realm ; 
 and the Earl of Warwick must not be the only man 
 to smile or to frown back the angry elements." 
 
 " In this, Beau Sire," answered Hastings, " you 
 speak as a king and a warrior should, and I will 
 do my best to assert your royal motto * Modus et 
 ordo." 1 If I can but promise that your Highness has 
 for awhile dismissed the Woodville lords, rely upon 
 it, that ere two months I will place under your 
 truncheon an army worthy of the Liege Lord of 
 hardy England." 
 
 " Go, dear Hastings, I trust all to thee !" an- 
 swered the King." 
 
 The nobleman kissed his sovereign's extended 
 hand, closed his visor, and, motioning to his body 
 squire to follow him, disappeared down a green 
 lane, avoiding such broader thoroughfares as might 
 bring him in contact with the officers left at Olney. 
 
 In a small village near Coventry, Sir Anthony 
 Woodville had collected about two thousand men ; 
 chiefly composed of the tenants and vassals of the 
 new nobility, who regarded the brilliant Anthony 
 as their head. The leaders were gallant and am-
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 331 
 
 bitious gentlemen, as they who arrive at fortunes 
 above their birth mostly are but their vassals 
 were little to be trusted. For in that day clan- 
 ship was still strong, and these followers had been 
 bred in allegiance to Lancastrian lords, whose 
 confiscated estates were granted to the Yorkist 
 favourites. The shout that welcomed the arrival 
 of the King was therefore feeble and lukewarm 
 and, disconcerted by so chilling a reception, he 
 dismounted, in less elevated spirits than those in 
 which he had left Olney, at the pavilion of his 
 brother-in-law. 
 
 The mourning dress of Anthony, his counte- 
 nance saddened by the barbarous execution of his 
 father and brother, did not tend to cheer the King. 
 
 But Woodville's account of the Queen's grief 
 and horror at the afflictions of her House, and of 
 Jacquetta's indignation at the foul language which 
 the report of her practices put into the popular 
 mouth, served to endear to the King's mind the 
 family that he considered unduly persecuted. 
 Even in the coldest breasts affection is fanned by 
 opposition, and the more the Queen's kindred 
 were assailed, the more obstinately Edward clung 
 to them. By suiting his humour, by winking at 
 his gallantries, by a submissive sweetness of temper, 
 which soothed his own hasty moods and contrasted 
 with the rough pride of Warwick and the peevish 
 fickleness of Clarence, Elizabeth had completely
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 wound herself into the King's heart. And the 
 charming graces, the elegant accomplishments, of 
 Anthony Woodville, were too harmonious with the 
 character of Edward, who in all except truth and 
 honour was the perfect model of the gay yentil- 
 homme of the time, not to have become almost a 
 necessary companionship. Indolent natures may 
 be easily ruled but they grow stubborn when 
 their comforts and habits are interfered with. 
 And the whole current of Edward's merry, easy 
 life, seemed to him to lose flow and sparkle, if 
 the faces he loved best were banished or even 
 clouded. 
 
 He was yet conversing with Woodville, and yet 
 assuring him, that however he might temporize, he 
 would never abandon his interests when a gen- 
 tleman entered aghast, to report that the Lords 
 St. John and de Fulke, on hearing that Sir An- 
 thony Woodville was in command of the forces, 
 had, without even dismounting, left the camp, and 
 carried with them their retainers, amounting to 
 more than half of the little troop that rode from 
 Olney. 
 
 " Let them go," said Edward, frowning ; " a 
 day shall dawn upon their headless trunks !" 
 
 "^Oh, my King," said Anthony, now Earl of 
 Rivers, who, by far the least selfish of his House, 
 was struck with remorse at the penalty Edward 
 paid for his love marriage, " now that your
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 333 
 
 Highness can relieve me of my command, let me 
 retire from the camp. I would fain go, a pilgrim to 
 the shrine of Compostella, to pray for my father's 
 sins and my Sovereign's weal." 
 
 " Let us first see what forces arrive from Lon- 
 don," answered the King. " Richard ere long 
 will be on the march from the frontiers, and what- 
 ever Warwick's resolves, Montagu, whose heart I 
 hold in my hand, will bring his army to my side. 
 Let us wait." 
 
 But the next day brought no reinforcements, 
 nor the next ; and the King retired betimes to his 
 tent, in much irritation and perplexity ; when at 
 the dead of the night, he was startled from slumber 
 by the tramp of horses, the sound of horns, the 
 challenge of the sentinels and, as he sprang from 
 his couch, and hurried on his armour in alarm, 
 by the abrupt entrance of the Earl of Warwick. 
 The Earl's face was stern, but calm and sad ; and 
 Edward's brave heart beat loud as he gazed on his 
 formidable subject. 
 
 " King Edward," said Warwick, slowly and 
 mournfully ; " you have deceived me ! I promised 
 to the Commons the banishment of the Wood- 
 villes, and to a Woodville you have flown." 
 
 " Your promise was given to rebels, with whom 
 no faith can be held ; and I passed from a den of 
 mutiny to the camp of a loyal soldier." 
 
 " We will not now waste words, King," an- 
 swered Warwick. " Please you to mount, and
 
 334 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 ride Northward. The Scotch have gained great 
 advantages on the marches. The Duke of Glouces- 
 ter is driven backwards. All the Lancastrians in 
 the North have risen. Margaret of Anjou is on 
 the coast of Normandy,* ready to set sail at the 
 first decisive victory of her adherents." 
 
 " I am with you," answered Edward ; " and I 
 rejoice to think that at last I may meet a foe. 
 Hitherto it seems as if I had been chased by 
 shadows. Now may I hope to grasp the form and 
 substance of danger and of battle." 
 
 " A steed prepared for your grace awaits you." 
 
 " Whither ride we first ?" 
 
 " To my Castle of Warwick, hard by. At noon 
 to-morrow all will be ready for our Northward 
 march." 
 
 Edward, by this time, having armed himself, 
 strode from the tent into the open air. The scene 
 was striking the moon was extremely bright and 
 the sky serene, but around the tent stood a troop 
 of torch-bearers, and the red glare shone luridly 
 upon the steel of the serried horsemen and the 
 banners of the Earl, in which the grim White 
 Bear was wrought upon an ebon ground, quartered 
 with the Dun Bull, and crested in gold, with the 
 Eagle of the Monthermers. Far as the King's eye 
 could reach, he saw but the spears of Warwick ; 
 while a confused hum in his own encampment 
 
 * At this time, Margaret was at Horfleur. WILL. WYHE.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 335 
 
 told that the troops Anthony Woodville had col- 
 lected were not yet marshalled into order Ed- 
 ward drew back. 
 
 " And the Lord Anthony of Scales and Rivers," 
 said he, hesitatingly. 
 
 " Choose between the Lord Anthony of Scales 
 and Rivers, and Richard Nevilc, King !" answered 
 Warwick, in a stern whisper. 
 
 Edward paused, and at that moment Anthony 
 himself emerged from his tent (which adjoined the 
 King's) in company with the Archbishop of York, 
 who had rode thither in Warwick's train. 
 
 " My Liege," said that gallant knight, putting 
 his knee to the ground, " I have heard from the 
 Archbishop the new perils that await your High- 
 ness, and I grieve sorely that, in this strait, your 
 counsellors deem it meet to forbid me the glory of 
 fighting or falling by your side ! I know too well 
 the unhappy odium attached to my House and 
 name in the northern parts, to dispute the policy 
 which ordains my absence from your armies. Till 
 these feuds are over, I crave your royal leave to 
 quit England, and perform my pilgrimage to the 
 sainted shrine of Compostella." 
 
 A burning flush passed over the King's face as 
 he raised his brother-in-law, and clasped him to 
 his bosom. 
 
 " Go or stay, as you will, Anthony !" said he, 
 " but let these proud men know that neither time
 
 336 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 nor absence can tear you from your King's heart. 
 But envy must have its hour ! Lord Warwick, I 
 attend you, but, it seems, rather as your prisoner 
 than your Liege." 
 
 Warwick made no answer : the King mounted, 
 and waived his hand to Anthony. The torches 
 tossed to and fro, the horns sounded, and in a 
 silence, moody and resentful on either part, Ed- 
 ward and his terrible subject rode on to the 
 towers of Warwick. 
 
 The next day the King beheld, with astonish- 
 ment, the immense force that, in a time so brief, 
 the Earl had collected round his standard. 
 
 From his casement, which commanded that 
 lovely slope on which so many a tourist now gazes 
 with an eye that seeks to call back the stormy 
 and chivalric past, Edward beheld the Earl on his 
 renowned black charger, reviewing the thousands 
 that, file on file, and rank on rank, lifted pike and 
 lance in the cloudless sun. 
 
 " After all," muttered the King, " I can never 
 make a new noble a great baron! And if in 
 peace a great baron overshadows the throne, in 
 time of war a great baron is a throne's bulwark ! 
 Gramercy, I had been mad to cast away such 
 an army an army fit for a King to lead ! They 
 serve Warwick now but Warwick is less skilful in 
 the martial art than I and soldiers, like hounds, 
 love best the most dexterous huntsman !"
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 337 
 
 VII. 
 
 HOW KIXG EDWARD ARRIVES AT THE CASTLE OF 
 MIDDLEUAM. 
 
 ON the ramparts of feudal Middleham, in the same 
 place where Anne had confessed to Isabel the 
 romance of her childish love, again the sisters 
 stood, awaiting the coming of their father and the 
 King. They had only, Avith their mother, reached 
 Middleham two days before, and the preceding 
 night an advanced guard had arrived at the castle 
 to announce the approach of the Earl with his 
 royal comrade and visitor. From the heights, al- 
 ready, they beheld the long array winding in 
 glorious order towards the mighty pile. 
 
 " Look !" exclaimed Isabel, " look ! already me- 
 thinks I see the white steed of Clarence. Yes ! it 
 is he ! it is my George my husband ! The ban- 
 ner borne before, shews his device." 
 
 " Ah ! happy Isabel !" said Anne, sighing, 
 " what rapture to await the coming of him one 
 loves !" 
 
 VOL. II. Q
 
 338 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 " My sweet Anne," returned Isabel, passing her 
 arm tenderly round her sister's slender waist, 
 " when thou hast conquered the vain folly of thy 
 childhood, thou wilt find a Clarence of thine own. 
 And yet," added the young Duchess, smiling, " it 
 , must be the opposite of a Clarence, to be to thy 
 heart what a Clarence is to mine. I love George's 
 gay humour thou lovest a melancholy brow. I 
 love that charming weakness which supples to my 
 woman will thou lovest a proud nature to com- 
 mand thine own. I do not respect George less, 
 because I know my mind stronger than his own ; 
 but thou (like my gentle mother) wouldst have thy 
 mate, lord and chief in all things, and live from 
 his life as the shadow from the sun. But where 
 left you our mother ?" 
 
 " In the oratory, at prayer !" 
 
 " She has been sad of late." 
 
 " The dark times darken her ; and she ever 
 fears the King's falseness or caprice will stir the 
 Earl up to some rash emprise. My father's letter, 
 brought last night to her, contains something that 
 made her couch sleepless." 
 
 " Ha !" exclaimed the Duchess, eagerly, " my 
 mother confides in thee more than me. Saw you 
 the letter ?" 
 
 No." 
 
 " Edward will make himself unfit to reign," 
 said Isabel, abruptly. " The Barons will call on
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 339 
 
 him to resign ; and then and then, Anne sister 
 Anne, Warwick's daughters cannot be born to be 
 simple subjects !" 
 
 " Isabel, God temper your ambition ! Oh ! 
 curb it crush it down ! Abuse not your influ- 
 ence with Clarence. Let not the brother aspire to 
 the brother's crown." 
 
 " Sister, a king's diadem covers all the sins 
 schemed in the head that wins it !" 
 
 As the Duchess spoke, her eyes flashed and 
 her form dilated. Her beauty seemed almost ter- 
 rible. 
 
 The gentle Anne gazed and shuddered ; but 
 ere she found words to rebuke, the lovely shape of 
 the Countess-mother was seen moving slowly to- 
 wards them. She was dressed in her robes of 
 state to receive her kingly guest ; the vest fitting 
 high to the throat, where it joined the ermine 
 tippet, and thickly sown with jewels ; the sleeves 
 tight, with the second or over sleeves, that, loose 
 and large, hung pendent and sweeping even to 
 the ground ; and the gown, velvet of cramousin, 
 trimmed with ermine, made a costume not less 
 graceful than magnificent, and which, where 
 compressed, set off the exquisite symmetry of a 
 form still youthful, and where flowing, added 
 majesty to a beauty naturally rather soft and 
 feminine than proud and stately. As she ap- 
 Q2
 
 340 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 preached her children, she looked rather like their 
 sister than their mother, as if Time, at least, 
 shrunk from visiting harshly one for whom such 
 sorrows were reserved ! 
 
 The face of the Countess was so sad in its 
 aspect of calm and sweet resignation, that even the 
 proud Isabel was touched ; and kissing her mo- 
 ther's hand, she asked, ' If any ill tidings preceded 
 her father's coming ?' 
 
 " Alas, my Isabel, the times themselves are 
 bad tidings ! Your youth scarcely remembers the 
 days when brother fought against brother, and the 
 son's sword rose against the father's breast. But I, 
 recalling them, tremble to hear the faintest murmur 
 that threatens a civil war.". She paused, and 
 forcing a smile to her lips, added, " Our woman 
 fears must not, however, sadden our lords with an 
 unwelcome countenance ; for men, returning to 
 their hearths, have a right to a wife's smile ; and 
 so, Isabel, thou and I, wives both, must forget the 
 morrow in to-day. Hark ! the trumpets sound 
 near and nearer let us to the hall." 
 
 Before, however, they had reached the castle, a 
 shrill blast rang at the outer gate. The portcullis 
 was raised ; the young Duke of Clarence, with a 
 bridegroom's impatience, spurred alone through 
 the gloomy arch, and Isabel, catching sight of his 
 countenance, lifted towards the ramparts, uttered
 
 THE LAST OF TIIE BARONS. 341 
 
 a cry and waived her hand. Clarence heard and 
 saw, leapt from his steed, and had clasped Isabel 
 to his breast, almost before Anne or the Countess 
 had recognised the new comer. 
 
 Isabel, however, always stately, recovered in an 
 instant from the joy she felt at her lord's return, 
 and gently escaping his embrace, she glanced with 
 a blush towards the battlements crowded with re- 
 tainers ; Clarence caught and interpreted the look. 
 
 "^Well, belle mere" he said, turning to the 
 Countess " and if yon faithful followers do wit- 
 ness with what glee a fair bride inspires a return- 
 ing bridegroom is there cause for shame in this 
 cheek of damascene ?" 
 
 " Is the King still with my Father ?" asked 
 Isabel hastily, and interrupting the Countess's 
 reply. 
 
 " Surely, yes ; and hard at hand. And pardon 
 me that I forgot, dear Lady, to say that my royal 
 brother has announced his intention of addressing 
 the principal officers of the army in Middleham 
 Hall. This news gave me fair excuse for hasten- 
 ing to you and Isabel." 
 
 " All is prepared for his Highness," said the 
 Countess, " save our own homage. We must 
 quicken our steps come Anne." 
 
 The Countess took the arm of the younger 
 sister, while the Duchess made a sign to Clarence..
 
 342 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 he lingered behind, and Isabel drawing him 
 aside, asked 
 
 " Is my father reconciled to Edward ?" 
 
 " No nor Edward to him." 
 
 " Good ! The King has no soldiers of his own 
 amidst yon armed train ?" 
 
 " Save a few of Anthony Woodville's recruits 
 none. Raoul de Fulke and St. John have re- 
 tired to their towers in sullen dudgeon. But 
 have you no softer questions for my return, 
 Bella mia ?" 
 
 " Pardon me many my King" 
 
 "King!" 
 
 " What other name should the successor of Ed- 
 ward the Fourth bear?" 
 
 " Isabel," said Clarence, in great emotion, 
 " what is it you would tempt me to ? Edward 
 the Fourth spares the life of Henry the Sixth, and 
 shall Edward the Fourth's Brother conspire against 
 his own ?" 
 
 " God forefend !" exclaimed Isabel " can you 
 so wrong my honest meaning ? O George I can 
 you conceive that your wife Warwick's daughter 
 harbours the thought of murder ? No ! surely 
 the career before you seems plain and spotless ! 
 Can Edward reign ? Deserted by the Barons, and 
 wearing away even my father's long credulous 
 love ; odious ! except in luxurious and unwarlikc
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 343 
 
 London, to all the Commons how reign ? What 
 other choice left ? none save Henry of Lancaster 
 or George of York." 
 
 " Were it so," said the weak Duke, and yet he 
 added, falteringly " believe me, Warwick medi- 
 tates no such changes im my favour." 
 
 " Time is a rapid ripener," answered Isabel 
 " but hark, they are lowering the drawbridge for 
 our guests."
 
 344 THE LAST OF TUB BARONS. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 THE ANCIENTS EIGHTLY GAVE TO THE GODDESS OF 
 ELOQUENCE A CROWN. 
 
 THE Lady of Warwick stood at the threshold of 
 the porch, which in the inner side of the broad 
 quadrangle, admitted to the apartments used by 
 the family ; and, heading the mighty train that, line 
 after line, emerged through the grim jaws of the 
 arch, came the Earl on his black destrier, and the 
 young King. 
 
 Even where she stood, the anxious Chatelaine 
 beheld the moody and gloomy air with which 
 Edward glanced around the strong walls of the 
 fortress, and up to the battlements that bristled 
 with the pikes and sallcts of armed men, who 
 looked on the pomp below, in the silence of 
 military discipline. 
 
 " Oh, Anne !" she whispered to her youngest 
 daughter, who stood beside her " what are women 
 worth in the strife of men ? Would that our 
 smiles could heal the wounds which a taunt can 
 make in a proud man's heart !"
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 Anne, affected and interested by her mother's 
 words, and with a secret curiosity to gaze upon 
 the man who ruled on the throne of the prince she 
 loved, came nearer and more in front, and sud- 
 denly, as he turned his head, the King's regard 
 rested upon her intent eyes and blooming face. 
 
 " Who is that fair donzell, cousin of Warwick ?" 
 he asked. 
 
 " My daughter, Sire." 
 
 " Ah ! your youngest ! I have not seen her since 
 she was a child." 
 
 Edward reined in his charger, and the Earl 
 threw himself from his selle, and held the King's 
 stirrup to dismount. But he did so with a haughty 
 and unsmiling visage. " I would be the first, Sire," 
 said he, with a slight emphasis, and as if excusing 
 to himself his condescension " to welcome to 
 Middleham the son of Duke Richard." 
 
 "And your Suzerain, my Lord Earl," added 
 Edward, with no less proud a meaning, and leaning 
 his hand lightly on Warwick's shoulder, he dis- 
 mounted slowly. " Rise, lady," he said, raising 
 the Countess, who knelt at the porch " and you 
 too, fair demoiselle. Pardieu, we envy the knee 
 that hath knelt to you" So saying, with royal 
 graciousness, he took the Countess's hand, and 
 they entered the Hall as the musicians, in the 
 gallery raised above, rolled forth their stormy wel- 
 come. 
 
 Q 3
 
 346 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 The Archbishop, who had followed close to 
 Warwick and the King, whispered now to his 
 brother 
 
 " Why would Edward address the Captains ?" 
 
 " I know not." 
 
 " He hath made himself familiar with many in 
 the march." 
 
 " Familiarity with a steel casque better be- 
 comes a King, than wassail with a greasy flat-cap." 
 
 " You do not fear lest he seduce from the White 
 Bear its retainers ?" 
 
 " As well fear that he can call the stars from 
 their courses around the sun." 
 
 While these words were interchanged, the 
 Countess conducted the King to a throne-chair, 
 raised upon the dais, by the side of which were 
 placed two seats of state, and, from the dais at the 
 same time, advanced the Duke and Duchess of 
 Clarence. The King prevented their kneeling, 
 and kissed Isabel slightly and gravely on the fore- 
 head. " Thus, noble lady, I greet the entrance 
 of the Duchess of Clarence into the royalty of 
 England." 
 
 Without pausing for reply, he passed on and 
 seated himself on the throne, while Isabel and her 
 husband took possession of the state chairs on 
 either hand. At a gesture of the King's, the 
 Countess and Anne placed themselves on seats 
 less raised, but still upon the dais. But now as
 
 THE LAST OF T1IE BARONS. 347 
 
 Edward sate, the hall grew gradually full of 
 lords and knights who commanded in Warwick's 
 train, while the Earl and the Archbishop stood 
 mute in the centre, the one armed cap-a-pic, 
 leaning on his sword, the other with his arms 
 folded in his long robes. 
 
 The King's eye, clear, steady, and majestic, 
 roved round that martial audience, worthy to 
 be a monarch's war-council, and not of one whom 
 marched under a monarch's banner ! Their silence, 
 their discipline, the splendour of their arms, the 
 greater splendour of their noble names, contrasted 
 painfully with the little mutinous camp of Olney, 
 and the surly untried recruits of Anthony Wood- 
 ville. But Edward, whose step, whose form, whose 
 aspect, proclaimed the man conscious of his rights 
 to be lord of all, betrayed not to those around him 
 the kingly pride, the lofty grief that swelled within 
 his heart. Still seated, he raised his left hand to 
 command silence ; with the right he replaced his 
 plumed cap upon his brow. 
 
 " Lords and Gentlemen," he said, (arrogating to 
 himself at once, as a thing "of course, that gorgeous 
 following,) " we have craved leave of our host to 
 address to you some words words which it pleases 
 a king to utter, and which may not be harsh to the 
 ears of a loyal subject. Nor will we, at this great cur- 
 rent of unsteady fortune, make excuse, noble ladies, 
 to you, that we speak of war to knighthood, which
 
 348 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 is ever the sworn defender of the daughter and the 
 wife the daughters and the wife of our cousin, 
 Warwick, have too much of hero-blood in their blue 
 veins to grow pale at the sight of heroes. Com- 
 rades in arms ! thus far towards our foe upon the 
 frontiers we have marched, without a sword drawn 
 or an arrow launched from an archer's bow. We 
 believe that a blessing settles on the head of a 
 true king, and that the trumpet of a good angel 
 goes before his path, announcing the victory which 
 awaits him. Here, in the hall of the Earl of War- 
 wick, our Captain-General, we thank you for your 
 cheerful countenance, and your loyal service ; and 
 here, as befits a king, we promise to you those 
 honours a king alone worthily can bestow." lie 
 paused, and his keen eye glanced from chief to 
 chief as he resumed : " We arc informed that cer- 
 tain misguided and traitor lords have joined the 
 Rose of Lancaster. Whoever so doth is attainted, 
 life and line, evermore ! His lands and dignities 
 arc forfeit to enrich and to ennoble the men who 
 strike for me. Heaven grant I may have foes enow 
 to reward all my friends! To every baron who 
 owns Edward the Fourth king, (ay, and not king 
 in name king in banquet and in bower but 
 leader and captain in the war,) I trust to give 
 a new barony to every knight a new knight's 
 fee to every yeoman a hyde of land to every 
 soldier a year's pay. What more I can do, let it
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 349 
 
 be free for any one to suggest for my domains of 
 York are broad, and my heart is larger still !" 
 
 A murmur of applause and reverence went round. 
 Vowed, as those warriors were, to the Earl, they 
 felt that A MONARCH was amongst them. 
 
 " What say you, then ? We are ripe for glory. 
 Three days will we halt at Middleham, guest to our 
 noble subject." 
 
 "Three days, Sire!" repeated Warwick, in a 
 voice of surprise. 
 
 " Yes ; and this, Fair Cousin, and ye, Lords and 
 Gentlemen, is my reason for the delay. I have 
 despatched Sir William, Lord de Hastings, to the 
 Duke of Gloucester, with command to join us here 
 (the Archbishop started, but instantly resumed 
 his earnest, placid aspect) to the Lord Montagu, 
 Earl of Northumberland, to muster all the vassals 
 of our shire of York. As three streams that dash 
 into the ocean, shall our triple army meet and 
 rush to the war. Not even. Gentlemen, not even 
 to the great Earl of Warwick will Edward the 
 Fourth be so beholden for roiaulmc and renown, as 
 to march but a companion to the conquest. If ye 
 were raised in Warwick's name, not mine why, be 
 it so ! I envy him such friends ; but I will have an 
 army of mine own, to shew mine English soldiery 
 how a Plantagenet battles for his crown. Gentle- 
 men, ye arc dismissed to your repose. In three 
 days we march ! and if any of you know in these
 
 350 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 fair realms the man, be he of York or Lancaster, 
 more fit to command brave subjects than he who 
 now addresses you, I say to that man turn rein, and 
 leave us! Let tyrants and cowards enforce re- 
 luctant service, my crown was won by the hearts 
 of my people ! Girded by those hearts, let me reign 
 or, mourned by them, let me fall ! So God and 
 St George favour me as I speak the truth !" 
 
 And as the King ceased, he uncovered his head, 
 and kissed the cross of his sword. A thrill went 
 through the audience. Many were there, dis- 
 affected to his person, and whom Warwick's in- 
 fluence alone could have roused to arms ; but, at the 
 close of an address, spirited and royal in itself, and 
 borrowing thousand-fold effect by the voice and 
 mien of the speaker, no feeling but that of enthu- 
 siastic loyalty, of almost tearful admiration, was left 
 in those steel-clad breasts. 
 
 As the King lifted on high the cross of his sword, 
 every blade leapt from its scabbard, and glittered 
 in the air; and the dusty banners in the hall 
 waved, as to a mighty blast, when, amidst the 
 rattle of armour, burst forth the universal cry 
 " Long live Edward the Fourth ! Long live the 
 King!" 
 
 The sweet Countess, even amidst the excite- 
 ment, kept her eyes anxiously fixed on Warwick, 
 whose countenance, however, shaded by the black 
 plumes of his casque, though the visor was raised,
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 351 
 
 revealed nothing of his mind. Her daughters 
 were more powerfully affected; for Isabel's in- 
 tellect was not so blinded by her ambition, 
 but that the kingliness of Edward forced itself 
 upon her with a might and solemn weight, which 
 crushed, for the moment, her aspiring hopes Was 
 this the man unfit to reign ? This the man volun- 
 tarily to resign a crown? This the man whom 
 George of Clarence, without fratricide, could suc- 
 ceed ? No ! there, spoke the soul of the First and 
 the Third Edward ! There, shook the mane, and 
 there, glowed the eye, of the indomitable lion of the 
 august Plantagenets ! And the same conviction, 
 rousing softer and holier sorrow, sate on the heart 
 of Anne : she saw, as for the first time, clearly be- 
 fore her, the awful Foe with whom her ill- 
 omened and beloved Prince had to struggle for his 
 throne. In contrast beside that form, in the prime 
 of manly youth a giant in its strength, a god 
 in its beauty rose the delicate shape of the me- 
 lancholy boy who, afar in exile, coupled in his 
 dreams the sceptre and the bride ! By one of those 
 mysteries magnetism seeks to explain, in the 
 strong intensity of her emotions, in the tremor 
 of her shaken nerves, fear seemed to grow pn>- 
 phetic. A steam as of blood rose up from the 
 dizzy floors. The image of her young Prince, 
 bound and friendless, stood before the throne of
 
 352 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 that Warrior-King. In the waving glitter of the 
 countless swords raised on high, she saw the mur- 
 derous blade against the boy-heir of Lancaster 
 descend descend! Her passion, her terror, at 
 the spectre which fancy thus evoked, seized and 
 overcame her; and ere the last hurrah sent its 
 hollow echo to the raftered roof, she sank from her 
 chair to the ground, hueless and insensible as the 
 dead. 
 
 The King had not without design permitted the 
 unwonted presence of the women in this warlike 
 audience. Partly because he was not unaware of 
 the ambitious spirit of Isabel, partly because he 
 counted on the affection shewn to his boyhood by 
 the Countess, who was said to have singular in- 
 fluence over her Lord, but principally because in 
 such a presence he trusted to avoid all discussion 
 and all questioning, and to leave the effect of his 
 eloquence, in which he excelled all his contempo- 
 raries, Gloucester alone excepted, single and un- 
 impaired ; and, therefore, as he rose, and re- 
 turned with a majestic bend the acclamation of 
 the warriors, his eye now turned towards the chairs 
 where the ladies sat, and he was the first to per- 
 ceive the swoon of the fair Anne. 
 
 With the tender grace that always characterized 
 his service to women, he descended promptly from 
 his throne, and raised the lifeless form in his stal-
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 353 
 
 wart arms; and Anne, as he bent over her, 
 looked so strangely lovely, in her marble stillness, 
 that even in that hour a sudden thrill shot through 
 a heart always susceptible to beauty, as the harp- 
 string to the breeze. 
 
 "It is but the heat, Lady," said he to the 
 alarmed Countess, " and let me hope that interest 
 which my fair kinswoman may take in the for- 
 tunes of Warwick and of York, hitherto linked 
 together " 
 
 " May they ever be so !" said Warwick, who, on 
 seeing his daughter's state, had advanced hastily to 
 the dais ; and, moved by the King's words, his late 
 speech, the evils that surrounded his throne, the 
 gentleness shewn to the beloved Anne, forgetting 
 resentment and ceremony alike, he held out his 
 mailed hand. The King, as he resigned Anne to 
 her mother's arms, grasped with soldierly frank- 
 ness, and with the ready wit of the cold intellect 
 which reigned beneath the warm manner, the hand 
 thus extended, and holding still that iron gauntlet in 
 his own ungloved and jewelled fingers, he advanced 
 to the verge of the dais, to which, in the confusion 
 occasioned by Anne's swoon, the principal officers 
 had crowded, and cried aloud 
 
 " Behold ! Warwick and Edward, thus hand in 
 hand, as they stood when the clarions sounded 
 the charge at Touton ! and that link, what
 
 354 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 swords, forged on a mortal's anvil, can rend or 
 sever?" 
 
 In an instant, every knee, there, knelt; and 
 Edward exultingly beheld, that what before had 
 been allegiance to the Earl was now only homage 
 to the King !
 
 THE LAST OF THE BAIIONS. 355 
 
 IX. 
 
 WEDDED CONFIDENCE AND LOVE THE EARL AND THE PRE- 
 LATE THE PRELATE AND THE KING SCHEMES WILES 
 AND THE BIRTH OF A DARK THOUGHT DESTINED TO 
 ECLIPSE A SUN. 
 
 WHILE, preparatory to the banquet, Edward, as 
 was then the daily classic custom, relaxed his 
 fatigues, mental or bodily, in the hospitable bath, 
 the Archbishop sought the closet of the Earl. 
 
 " Brother," said he, throwing himself with some 
 petulance into the only chair the room, otherwise 
 splendid, contained " when you left me, to seek 
 Edward in the camp of Anthony Woodville, what 
 was the understanding between us ?" 
 
 " I know of none," answered the Earl, who, 
 having doffed his armour, and dismissed his 
 squires, leaned thoughtfully against the wall, 
 dressed for the banquet, with the exception of the 
 short surcoat, which lay glittering on the tabouret.
 
 356 THE LAST OF THE BARONS, 
 
 " You know of none ? Reflect ! Have you 
 brought hither Edward as a guest or as a pri- 
 soner ?" 
 
 The Earl knit his brows " A prisoner, Arch- 
 bishop !" 
 
 The Prelate regarded him with a cold smile. 
 
 " Warwick, you who would deceive no other 
 man, now seek to deceive yourself." The Earl 
 drew back, and his hardy countenance grew a 
 shade paler. The Prelate resumed " You have 
 carried Edward from his camp, and severed him 
 from his troops; you have placed him in the 
 midst of your own followers you have led him 
 charing and resentful all the way, to this impreg- 
 nable keep ; and you now pause, amazed by the 
 grandeur of your captive ; a man who leads to 
 his home a tiger a spider who has entangled a 
 hornet in its web ! " 
 
 " Nay, reverend brother," said the Earl, calmly, 
 " ye churchmen never know what passes in the 
 hearts of those who feel and do not scheme. 
 When I learned that the King had fled to the 
 Woodvilles that he was bent upon violating the 
 pledge given in his name to the Insurgent Com- 
 mons ; I vowed that he should redeem my honour 
 and his own, or that for ever I would quit his ser- 
 vice. And here, within these walls which shel- 
 tered his childhood I trusted, and trust still, to 
 make one last appeal to his better reason."
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 357 
 
 " For all that, men now, and history hereafter, 
 will consider Edward as your captive." 
 
 " To living men, my words and deeds can clear 
 themselves; and as for history, let clerks and 
 scholars fool themselves in the lies of parchment ! 
 He who has acted History, despises the gownsmen 
 who sit in cloistered ease, and write about what they 
 know not." The Earl paused, and then continued 
 " I confess, however, that I have had a scheme. 
 I have wished to convince the King how little his 
 mushroom lords can bestead him in the storm ; 
 and that he holds his crown only from his Barons 
 and his People." 
 
 " That is, from the Lord Warwick !" 
 " Perhaps I am the personation of both Seignorie 
 and People ; but I design this solely for his wel- 
 fai'e. Ah, the gallant Prince how well he bore 
 himself to-day !" 
 
 " Ay, when stealing all hearts from thee to him." 
 " And, Vive Dieu, I never loved him so well as 
 when he did ! Methinks it was for a day like this 
 that I reared his youth and achieved his crown. 
 Oh, Priest Priest, thou mistakest me. I am rash, 
 hot, haughty, hasty ; and I love not to bow my 
 knees to a man because they call him King, if his 
 life be vicious and his word be false. But, could 
 Edward be ever as to-day, then indeed should I 
 hail a Sovereign whom a Baron may reverence and 
 a soldier serve !"
 
 358 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 Before the Archbishop could reply, the door 
 gently opened, and the Countess appeared. War- 
 wick seemed glad of the interruption ; he turned 
 quickly " And how fares my child?" 
 
 " Recovered from her strange swoon, and ready 
 to smile at thy return. Oh, Warwick, thou art re- 
 conciled to the King !" 
 
 " That glads thee, sister ?" said the Archbishop. 
 
 " Surely. Is it not for my Lord's honour." 
 
 " May he find it so !" said the prelate, and he 
 left the room. 
 
 " My Priest-Brother is chafed," said the Earl, 
 smiling. " Pity he was not born a trader, he would 
 have made a shrewd hard bargain. Verily our 
 Priests burn the Jews out of envy ! Ah, rrfamie, 
 how fair thou art to-day. Methinks even Isabel's 
 cheek less blooming." And the warrior drew 
 the lady towards him and smoothed her hair, and 
 tenderly kissed her brow. " My letter vexed thee, I 
 know, for thou lovest Edward, and blamest me not 
 for my love to him. It is true that he hath pal- 
 tered with me, and that I had stern resolves, not 
 against his Crown, but to leave him to his fate, and 
 in these halls to resign my charge. But while he 
 spoke, and while he looked, methought I saw his 
 mother's face, and heard his dear father's tones, and 
 the past rushed over me, and all wrath was gone. 
 Sonlcss myself, why would he not be my son ?"
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 359 
 
 The Earl's voice trembled, and the tears stood in 
 his dark eyes. 
 
 " Speak thus, dear Lord, to Isabel, for I fear 
 her over-vaulting spirit " 
 
 " Ah had Isabel been his wife !" he paused 
 and moved away. Then, as if impatient to escape 
 the thoughts that tended to an ungracious recol- 
 lection, he added " and now, sweetheart these 
 slight fingers have ofttimes buckled on my mail, let 
 them place on my breast this badge of St. George's 
 chivalry; and, if angry thoughts return, it shall 
 remind me that the day on which I wore it first, 
 Richard of York said to his young Edward, * Look 
 to that star, boy, if ever, in cloud and trouble, thou 
 wouldst learn what safety dwells in the heart 
 which never knew deceit !' " 
 
 During the banquet, the King, at whose table 
 sate only the Duke of Clarence and the Earl's 
 family, was gracious as day to all, but especially 
 to the Lady Anne ; attributing her sudden ill- 
 ness to some cause not unflattering to himself, 
 her beauty which somewhat resembled that of the 
 Queen, save that it had more advantage of expres- 
 sion and of youth, was precisely of the character 
 he most admired. Even her timidity, and the re- 
 serve with which she answered him, had their 
 charm ; for like many men, themselves of impe- 
 rious nature and fiery will, he preferred even im- 
 becility in a woman to whatever was energetic or
 
 360 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 determined ; and hence, perhaps, his indifference 
 to the more dazzling beauty of Isabel. After the 
 feast, the numerous Demoiselles, highborn and fair, 
 who swelled the more than regal train of the 
 Countess, were assembled in the long gallery, 
 which was placed in the third story of the Castle, 
 and served for the principal State apartment. The 
 dance began ; but Isabel excused herself from the 
 Pavon, and the King led out the reluctant and me- 
 lancholy Anne. 
 
 The proud Isabel, who had never forgiven Ed- 
 ward's slight to herself, resented deeply his evident 
 admiration of her sister, and conversed apart with 
 the Archbishop, whose subtle craft easily drew 
 from her lips confessions of an ambition higher 
 even than his own. He neither encouraged nor 
 dissuaded ; he thought there were things more im- 
 possible than the accession of Clarence to the 
 throne, but he was one who never plotted, save 
 for himself and for the church. 
 
 As the revel waned, the Prelate approached the 
 Earl, who, with that remarkable courtesy which 
 charmed those below his rank, and contrasted with 
 his haughtiness to his peers, had well played 
 amongst his knights the part of host, and said, in a 
 whisper, " Edward is in a happy mood let us lose 
 it not. Will you trust me to settle all differences, 
 ere he sleep ? Two proud men never can agree 
 without a third of a gentler temper,"
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 361 
 
 " You are right," said Warwick, smiling, " yet 
 the danger is, that I should rather concede too 
 much, than be too stubborn. But look you ; all I 
 demand is, satisfaction to mine own honour, and 
 faith to the army I disbanded in the King's 
 name." 
 
 " All /" muttered the Archbishop, as he turned 
 away, " but that all is everything to provoke quar- 
 rel for you, and nothing to bring power to me /" 
 
 The Earl and the Archbishop attended the King 
 to his chamber, and after Edward was served with 
 the parting refection, or livery, the Earl said, with 
 his most open smile " Sire, there are yet affairs 
 between us ; whom will you confer with me or 
 the Archbishop ?" 
 
 " Oh ! the Archbishop, by all means, fair cousin," 
 cried Edward, no less frankly, " for if you and I 
 are left alone, God help both of us ! when flint 
 and steel meet, fire flies, and the house may 
 burn." 
 
 The Earl half smiled at the candour half 
 sighed at the levity of the royal answer, and 
 silently left the room. The King, drawing round 
 him his loose dressing robe, threw himself upon 
 the gorgeous coverlid of the bed, and lying at lazy 
 length, motioned to the Prelate to seat himself at 
 the foot. The Archbishop obeyed. Edward raised 
 himself on his elbow, and, by the light of seven 
 gigantic tapers, set in sconces of massive silver, the 
 
 VOL. II. B
 
 362 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 Priest and the King gravely gazed on each other, 
 without speaking. 
 
 At last, Edward, bursting into his hale, clear, 
 silvery laugh, said, " Confess, dear sir and cousin 
 confess that we are like two skilful masters of 
 Italian fence, each fearing to lay himself open by 
 commencing the attack." 
 
 " Certes," quoth the Archbishop, " your Grace 
 over-estimates my vanity, in opining that I deemed 
 myself equal to so grand a duello. If there were 
 dispute between us, I should only win by baring 
 my bosom." 
 
 The King's bowlike lip curved with a slight 
 sneer, quickly replaced by a serious and earnest 
 expression " Let us leave word-making, and to 
 the point, George. Warwick is displeased be- 
 cause I will not abandon my wife's kindred ; you, 
 with more reason, because I have taken from your 
 hands the Chancellor's great seal " 
 
 " For myself, I humbly answer that your Grace 
 errs. I never coveted other honours than those of 
 the church." 
 
 " Ay," said Edward, keenly examining the young 
 prelate's smooth face, " is it so ? Yes, now I 
 begin to comprehend thee. What offence have I 
 given to the church ? Have I suffered the law too 
 much to sleep against the Lollards ? If so, blame 
 Warwick." 
 
 " On the contrary, Sire, unlike other priests, I 
 have ever deemed that persecution heals no schism.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 3G3 
 
 Blow not dying embers. Rather do I think of late 
 that too much severity hath helped to aid, by Lol- 
 lard bows and pikes, the late rising. My lady, the 
 Queen's mother, unjustly accused of witchcraft, hath 
 sought to clear herself, and perhaps too zealously, 
 in exciting your Grace against that invisible 
 giant ycleped heresy." 
 
 " Pass on," said Edward. " It is not then in- 
 difference to the Ecclesia that you complain of. Is 
 it neglect of the Ecclesiastic? Ha ! ha ! you and I, 
 though young, know the colours that make up the 
 patchwork world. Archbishop, I love an easy 
 life, if your brother and his friends will but give me 
 that, let them take all else. Again, I say, to the 
 point, I cannot banish my lady's kindred, but I 
 will bind your house still more to mine. I have a 
 daughter, failing male issue, the heiress to my 
 crown. I will betroth her to your nephew, my 
 beloved Montagu's son. They are children yet, 
 but their ages not unsuited. And when I return 
 to London, young Nevile shall be Duke of Bedford, 
 a title hitherto reserved to the royal race.* Let 
 that be a pledge of peace between the Queen's 
 mother, bearing the same honours, and the House 
 of Nevile, to which they pass." 
 
 * And indeed there was but one Yorkist Duke then in Eng- 
 land out of the Royal Family viz., the young boy, Buckingham, 
 who afterwards vainly sought to bend the Ulysses bow of War- 
 wick against Richard the Third.
 
 364 THE LAST OP THE BARONS. 
 
 The cheek of the Archbishop flushed with proud 
 pleasure ; he bowed his head, and Edward, ere he 
 could answer, went on, " Warwick is already so 
 high that, pardie, I have no other step to give him 
 save my throne itself, and God's truth, I would 
 rather be Lord Warwick than King of England ! 
 But for you listen our only English Cardinal 
 is old and sickly whenever he pass to Abraham's 
 bosom, who but you should have the suffrage of 
 the Holy College? Thou knowest that I am 
 somewhat in the good favour of the Sovereign Pon- 
 tiff. Command me to the utmost. Now, George, 
 are we friends ?'' 
 
 The Archbishop kissed the gracious hand ex- 
 tended to him, and, surprised to find, as by magic, 
 all his schemes frustrated by sudden acquiescence 
 in the objects of them all, his voice faltered with 
 real emotion as he gave vent to his gratitude. But 
 abruptly he checked himself, his brow lowered, and 
 with a bitter remembrance of his brother's plain, 
 blunt sense of honour, he said, " Yet, alas, my 
 Liege, in all this there is nought to satisfy our 
 stubborn host." 
 
 " By dear Saint George and my father's head 1" 
 exclaimed Edward, reddening, and starting to his 
 feet, " what would the man have ?" 
 
 " You know," answered the Archbishop, " that 
 Warwick's pride is only roused when he deems his 
 honour harmed. Unhappily, as he thinks, by
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 365 
 
 your Grace's full consent, he pledged himself to 
 the insurgents of Olney to the honourable dis- 
 missal of the lords of the Woodville race. And 
 unless this be conceded, I fear me that all else he 
 will reject, and the love between ye can be but 
 hollow!" 
 
 Edward took but three strides across the cham- 
 ber, and then halted opposite the Archbishop, and 
 laid both hands on his shoulders, as, looking him full 
 in the face, he said, " Answer me frankly, am I a 
 prisoner in these towers, or not ?" 
 
 "Not, Sire." 
 
 " You palter with me, Priest. I have been led 
 here against my will. I am almost without an 
 armed retinue. I am at the Earl's mercy. This 
 chamber might be my grave, and this couch my 
 bed of death." 
 
 " Holy Mother ! Can you think so of Warwick ? 
 Sire, you freeze my blood." 
 
 "Well, then, if I refuse to satisfy Warwick's pride, 
 and disdain to give up to rebel insolence loyal 
 servants, what will Warwick do? Speak out, Arch- 
 bishop." 
 
 " I fear me, Sire, that he will resign all office, 
 whether of peace or war. I fear me that the goodly 
 army now at sleep within and around these walls 
 will vanish into air, and that your Highness will 
 stand alone amidst new men,* and against the dis- 
 affection of the whole land !"
 
 366 
 
 Edward's firm hand trembled. The Prelate 
 continued, with a dry, caustic smile 
 
 " Sire, Sir Anthony Woodville, now Lord Rivers, 
 has relieved you of all embarrassment ; no doubt, 
 my Lord Dorset and his kinsm'cn will be cheva- 
 liers enough to do the same. The Duchess of 
 Bedford will but suit the decorous usage to retire 
 awhile into privacy, to mourn her widowhood. 
 And when a year is told, if these noble persons 
 re-appear at Court, your word and the Earl's will 
 at least have been kept." 
 
 " I understand thee," said the King, half laugh- 
 ing ; " but I have my pride as well as Warwick. 
 To concede this point is to humble the conceder." 
 
 " I have thought how to soothe all things, and 
 without humbling either party. Your Grace's 
 mother is dearly beloved by Warwick, and revered 
 by all. Since your marriage she hath lived se- 
 cluded from all state affairs. As so nearly akin 
 to Warwick so deeply interested in your Grace 
 she is a fitting mediator in all disputes. Be they 
 left to her to arbitrate." 
 
 " Ah ! cunning Prelate, thou knowest how my 
 proud mother hates the Woodvilles thou knowest 
 how her judgment will decide." 
 
 " Perhaps so ; but at least your Grace will be 
 spared all pain and all abasement." 
 
 " Will Warwick consent to this ?" 
 
 " I trust so."
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 367 
 
 " Learn, and report to me. Enough for to-night's 
 conference." 
 
 Edward was left alone, and his mind ran rapidly 
 over the field of action open to him. 
 
 " I have half won the Earl's army," he thought ; 
 " but it would be to lose all hold in their hearts 
 again, if they knew that these unhappy Woodvilles 
 were the cause of a second breach between us. 
 Certes, the Lancastrians are making strong head ! 
 Certes, the times must be played with and ap- 
 peased! And yet these poor gentlemen love 
 me after my own fashion, and not with the bear's 
 hug of that intolerable Earl. How came the grim 
 man by so fair a daughter ? Sweet Anne ! I 
 caught her eye often fixed on me, and with a soft 
 fear which my heart beat loud to read aright. 
 Verily, this is the fourth week I have passed with- 
 out hearing a woman's sigh ! What marvel that 
 so fair a face enamours me ! Would that War- 
 wick made her his ambassador ; and yet it were all 
 over with the Woodvilles if he did. These men 
 know not how to manage me, and well-a-day, that 
 task is easy enow to women !" 
 
 He laughed gaily to himself as he thus con- 
 cluded his soliloquy, and extinguished the tapers. 
 But rest did not come to his pillow; and after 
 tossing to and fro for some time in vain search for 
 sleep, he rose and opened his casement to cool the 
 air which the tapers had overheated. In a single
 
 368 THE LAST OF THE BARONS. 
 
 casement, in a broad turret, projecting from an 
 angle in the building, below the tower in which 
 his chamber was placed, the King saw a solitary 
 light burning steadily. A sight so unusual at 
 such an hour, surprised him. " Peradventure the 
 wily prelate," thought he. " Cunning never sleeps." 
 But a second look shewed him the very form that 
 chased his slumbers. Beside the casement, which 
 was partially open, he saw the soft profile of the 
 Lady Anne ; it was bent downwards ; and what 
 with the clear moonlight, and the lamp within her 
 chamber, he could see distinctly that she was 
 weeping. " Ah ! Anne," muttered the amorous 
 King, " would that I were by to kiss away those 
 tears !" While yet the unholy wish murmured on 
 his lips, the lady rose. The fair hand, that seemed 
 almost transparent in the moonlight, closed the 
 casement ; and though the light lingered for some 
 minutes ere it left the dark walls of the castle 
 without other sign of life than the step of the 
 sentry, Anne was visible no more. 
 
 "Madness madness madness!" again mur- 
 
 
 
 mured the King. " These Neviles are fatal to me 
 in all ways in hatred or in love !" 
 
 END OF BOOK VII.
 
 369 
 
 NOTE TO VOL. II. 
 
 Hume, Rapin, and Carte, all dismiss the story of 
 Edward's actual imprisonment at Middleham, while Lingard, 
 Sharon Turner, and others, adopt it implicitly. And yet, 
 though Lingard has successfully grappled with some of 
 Hume's objections, he has left others wholly unanswered. 
 Hume states that no such fact is mentioned in Edward's sub- 
 sequent proclamation against Clarence and Warwick. Lin- 
 gard answers, after correcting an immaterial error in Hume's 
 dates, " that the proclamation ought not to have mentioned it, 
 because it was confined to the enumeration of offences only 
 committed after the general amnesty in 1469." And then, 
 surely with some inconsistency, quotes the attainder of Cla- 
 rence many years afterwards, in which the king enumerates 
 it among his offences, " as jeopardyng the king's royal estate, 
 person, and life, in strait warde, putting him thereby from 
 all his libertye after procuring great commotions." But it is 
 clear that if the amnesty hindered Edward from charging 
 Warwick with this imprisonment only one year after it was 
 granted, it would, a fortiori, hinder him from charging 
 Clarence with it nine years after. Most probable is it that 
 this article of accusation does not refer to any imprisonment, 
 real or supposed, at Middleham, in 1469, but to Clarence's 
 invasion of England in 1470, when Edward's state, personne, 
 and life were indeed jeopardized by his narrow escape 
 from the fortified house, where he might fairly be called, 
 " in straite warde ;" especially as the words, " after procuring 
 great commotions," could not apply to the date of the sup- 
 
 VOL. II. S
 
 370 . NOTE TO VOL. II. 
 
 posed detention in Middleham, when, instead of procuring 
 commotions, Clarence had helped Warwick to allay them, 
 but do properly apply to his subsequent rebellion in 1470. 
 Finally, Edward's charges against his brother, as Lingard, 
 himself, has observed elsewhere, are not proofs, and that 
 king never scrupled at any falsehood to serve his turn. 
 Nothing, in short, can be more improbable than this tale 
 of Edward's captivity there was no object in it. At the 
 very time it is said to have taken place, "Warwick is abso- 
 lutely engaged in warfare against the king's foes. The mo- 
 ment Edward leaves Middleham, instead of escaping to Lon- 
 don, he goes carelessly and openly to York, to judge and 
 execute the very Captain of the rebels whom Warwick has sub- 
 dued, and in the very midst of Warwick's armies ! Far from 
 appearing to harbour the natural resentment so vindictive a 
 king must have felt (had so great an indignity been offered 
 to him) almost immediately after he leaves York, he takes 
 the Nevile family into greater power than ever, confers new 
 dignities upon Warwick, and betroths his eldest daughter 
 to Warwick's nephew. On the whole, then, perhaps some 
 such view of the king's visit to Middleham, which lias been 
 taken in this narrative, may be considered not the least pro- 
 bable compromise of the disputed and contradictory evidence 
 on the subject. 
 
 END OF VOL. II. 
 
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