THE LIBRARY 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 Miss Nancy Bangert
 
 THE LAST OF THE 
 BARONS
 
 The noble animal reared again.
 
 THE LAST OF 
 THE BARONS 
 
 By 
 
 EDWARD BULWER LYTTON 
 
 Illustrated by 
 E. POLLAK 
 
 VOLUME I 
 
 Charles Scribner's Sons 
 New York J904
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1902, BY 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS,
 
 College 
 Library 
 
 "THE Earl of Warwick, commonly known, from the subsequent 
 events, by the appellation of the King-maker, had distinguished him- 
 self by his gallantry in the field, by the hospitality of his table, by the 
 magnificence, and still more by the generosity, of his expense, and by 
 the spirited and bold manner which attended him in all his actions. 
 The undesigning frankness and openness of his character rendered his 
 conquest over men's affections the more certain and infallible ; his 
 presents were regarded as sure testimonies of esteem and friendship ; 
 and his professions as the overflowings of his genuine sentiments. 
 No less than thirty thousand persons are said to have daily lived at 
 his board in the different manors and castles which he possessed in 
 England ; the military men, allured by his munificence and hospi- 
 tality, as well as by his bravery, were zealously attached to his in- 
 terests ; the people in general bore him an unlimited affection ; his 
 numerous retainers were more devoted to his will, than to the prince 
 
 Or to the laws; AND HE WAS THE' GREATEST, AS WELL AS THE 
 LAST, OF THOSE MIGHTY BARONS WHO FORMERLY OVERAWED 
 THE CROWN." Hume.
 
 DEDICATORY EPISTLE 
 
 I dedicate to you, my indulgent Critic and long- 
 tried Friend, the work which owes its origin to your 
 suggestion. Long since, you urged me to attempt a 
 fiction which might borrow its characters from our 
 own Records, and serve to illustrate some of those 
 truths which History is too often compelled to leave 
 to the Tale-teller, the Dramatist, and the Poet. 
 Unquestionably, Fiction, when aspiring to something 
 higher than mere romance, does not pervert, but 
 elucidate Facts. He who employs it worthily must, 
 like a biographer, study the time and the characters 
 he selects, with a minute and earnest diligence which 
 the general historian, whose range extends over cen- 
 turies; can scarcely be expected to bestow upon the 
 things and the men of a single epoch; his descriptions 
 should fill up with colour and detail the cold outlines 
 of the rapid chronicler; and, in spite of all that has 
 been argued by pseudo-critics, the very fancy which 
 urged and animated his theme should necessarily 
 tend to increase the reader's practical and familiar 
 acquaintance with the habits, the motives, and the 
 modes of thought, which constitute the true idiosyn- 
 crasy of an age. More than all, to Fiction is per- 
 mitted that liberal use of Analogical Hypothesis which 
 is denied to History, and which, if sobered by research, 
 and enlightened by that knowledge of mankind (with- 
 out which Fiction can neither harm nor profit, for it 
 becomes unreadable), tends to clear up much that were 
 otherwise obscure, and to solve the disputes and dif- 
 ficulties of contradictory evidence by the philosophy 
 of the human heart. 
 
 My own impression of the greatness of the labour 
 to which you invited me, made me the more diffident
 
 viii DEDICATORY EPISTLE 
 
 of success, inasmuch as the field of English historical 
 fiction had been so amply cultivated not only by the 
 most brilliant of our many glorious Novelists, but by 
 later writers of high and merited reputation. But 
 however the annals of our History have been ex- 
 hausted by the industry of romance, the subject you 
 finally pressed on my choice is unquestionably one 
 which, whether in the delineation of character, the 
 expression of passion, or the suggestion of historical 
 truths, can hardly fail to direct the Novelist to paths 
 wholly untrodden by his predecessors in the Land of 
 Fiction. 
 
 Encouraged by you, I commenced my task encour- 
 aged by you, I venture, on concluding it, to believe 
 that, despite the partial adoption of that established 
 compromise between the modern and the elder dic- 
 tion, which Sir Walter Scott so artistically improved 
 from the more rugged phraseology employed by 
 Strutt, and which later writers have perhaps somewhat 
 over-hackneyed, I may yet have avoided all material 
 trespass upon ground which others have already re- 
 deemed from the waste. Whatever the produce of 
 the soil I have selected, I claim, at least, to have 
 cleared it with my own labour, and ploughed it with 
 my own heifer. 
 
 The reign of Edward IV. is in itself suggestive of 
 new considerations and unexhausted interest to those 
 who accurately regard it. Then commenced the policy 
 consummated by Henry VII. ; then were broken up 
 the great elements of the old feudal order; a new 
 Nobility was called into power, to aid the growing 
 Middle Class in its struggles with the ancient: and 
 in the fate of the hero of the age, Richard Nevile, Earl 
 of Warwick, popularly called the King-maker, " the 
 greatest as well as the last of those mighty Barons 
 who formerly over-awed the Crown," * was involved 
 the very principle of our existing civilisation. It 
 
 * Hume adds, " and rendered the people incapable of civil 
 government;" a sentence, which, perhaps, judges too hastily 
 the whole question at jssue in our earlier history, between the 
 jealousy of the Barons and the authority of the King.
 
 DEDICATORY EPISTLE ix 
 
 adds to the wide scope of Fiction, which ever loves 
 to explore the twilight, that, as Hume has truly ob- 
 served " No part of English history since the Con- 
 quest is so obscure, so uncertain, so little authentic 
 or consistent, as that of the Wars between the two 
 Roses." * It adds also to the importance of that con- 
 jectural research in which Fiction may be made so 
 interesting and so useful, that " this profound dark- 
 ness falls upon us just on the eve of the restoration 
 of letters; " f while amidst the gloom, we perceive the 
 movement of those great and heroic passions in which 
 Fiction finds delineations everlastingly new, and are 
 brought in contact with characters sufficiently familiar 
 for interest, sufficiently remote for adaptation to ro- 
 mance, and, above all, so frequently obscured by con- 
 tradictory evidence, that we lend ourselves willingly to 
 any one who seeks to help our judgment of the indi- 
 vidual by tests taken from the general knowledge of 
 mankind. 
 
 Round the great image of the Last of the Barons 
 group Edward the Fourth, at once frank and false; 
 the brilliant but ominous boyhood of Richard the 
 Third ; the accomplished Hastings, " a good knight 
 and gentle, but somewhat dissolute of living;" J the 
 vehement and fiery Margaret of Anjou, the meek im- 
 age of her " holy Henry," and the pale shadow of their 
 son : there, may we see, also, the gorgeous Prelate, re- 
 fining in policy and wile, as the enthusiasm and energy 
 which had formerly upheld the Ancient Church pass 
 into the stern and persecuted votaries of the New: 
 We behold, in that social transition, the sober Trader 
 outgrowing the prejudices of the rude retainer or 
 rustic franklin, from whom he is sprung recognising 
 sagaciously, and supporting sturdily, the sectarian in- 
 terests of his order, and preparing the way for the 
 mighty Middle Class in which our modern Civilisa- 
 tion, with its faults and its merits, has established its 
 stronghold; while, in contrast to the measured and 
 thoughtful notions of liberty which prudent Com- 
 
 * Hume. t Ibid. 
 
 t Chronicle of Edward V. in Stowe.
 
 x DEDICATORY EPISTLE 
 
 merce entertains, we are reminded of the political 
 fanaticism of the secret Lollard, of the jacquerie of 
 the turbulent mob-leader; and perceive, amidst the 
 various tyrannies of the time, and often partially allied 
 with the war-like seignorie * ever jealous against all 
 kingly despotism, the restless and ignorant move- 
 ment of a democratic principle, ultimately suppressed, 
 though not destroyed, under the Tudors, by the strong 
 union of a Middle Class, anxious for security and 
 order, with an Executive Authority determined upon 
 absolute sway. 
 
 Nor should we obtain a complete and compre- 
 hensive view of that most interesting Period of Transi- 
 tion, unless we saw something of the influence which 
 the sombre and sinister wisdom of Italian policy began 
 to exercise over the councils of the great a policy of 
 refined stratagem of complicated intrigue of sys- 
 tematic falsehood of ruthless, but secret violence : a 
 policy which actuated the fell statecraft of Louis XL, 
 which darkened, whenever he paused to think and to 
 scheme, the gaudy and jovial character of Edward 
 IV. ; which appeared in its fullest combination of pro- 
 found guile and resolute will in Richard III., and, 
 softened down into more plausible and specious pur- 
 pose by the unimpassioned sagacity of Henry VII. 
 finally attained the object which justified all its villanies 
 to the princes of its native land namely, the tran- 
 quillity of a settled state, and the establishment of a 
 civilised but imperious despotism. 
 
 Again, in that twilight time, upon which was dawn- 
 ing the great Invention that gave to Letters and to 
 Science the precision and durability of the printed 
 page ; it is interesting to conjecture what would have 
 been the fate of any scientific achievement for which 
 the world was less prepared. The reception of print- 
 
 * For it is noticeable that in nearly all the popular risings 
 that of Cade, of Robin of Redesdale, and afterwards of that 
 which Perkin Warbeck made subservient to his extraordinary 
 enterprise, the proclamations of the rebels always announced, 
 among their popular grievances, the depression of the ancient 
 nobles and the elevation of new men.
 
 DEDICATORY EPISTLE xi 
 
 ing into England, chanced just at the happy period 
 when Scholarship and Literature were favoured by the 
 great. The princes of York, with the exception of 
 Edward IV. himself, who had, however, the grace to 
 lament his own want of learning, and the taste to 
 appreciate it in others, were highly educated. The 
 Lords Rivers and Hastings* were accomplished in all 
 the " witte and lere " of their age. Princes and peers 
 vied with each other in their patronage of Caxton, 
 and Richard III., during his brief reign, spared no 
 pains to circulate to the utmost the invention destined 
 to transmit his own memory to the hatred and the 
 horror of all succeeding time. But when we look 
 around us, we see, in contrast to the gracious and 
 fostering reception of the mere mechanism by which 
 science is made manifest, the utmost intolerance to 
 science itself. The mathematics in especial are deemed 
 the very cabala of the black art accusations of witch- 
 craft were never more abundant, and yet, strange to 
 say, those who openly professed to practise the unhal- 
 lowed science, f and contrived to make their deceptions 
 profitable to some unworthv political purpose, appear 
 to have enjoyed safety, and sometimes even honour, 
 while those who, occupied with some practical, useful, 
 and noble pursuits, uncomprehended bv prince or 
 people, denied their sorcery, were despatched without 
 mercy. The Mathematician and Astronomer, Bolin- 
 broke (the greatest clerk of his age), is hanged and 
 quartered as a wizard, while not only impunity but 
 reverence seems to have awaited a certain Friar Bun- 
 gey, for having raised mists and vapours, which great- 
 ly befriended Edward IV. at the battle of Barnet. 
 Our knowledge of the intellectual spirt of the age, 
 
 * The erudite Lord Worcester had been one of Caxton's 
 warmest patrons, but that nobleman was no more, at the time 
 in which Printing is said to have been actually introduced 
 into England. 
 
 t Nigromancy or Sorcery even took its place amongst the 
 regular callings. Thus, " Thomas Vandvke. late of Cam- 
 bridge," is styled (Rolls Parl. 6, p. 273) Nigromancer, as his 
 profession. Sharon Turner. " History of England," vol. iv. 
 p. 6. Bucke, " History of Richard III."
 
 xii DEDICATORY EPISTLE 
 
 therefore, only becomes perfect when we contrast the 
 success of the Impostor with the fate of the true 
 Genius. And as the prejudices of the populace ran 
 high against all mechanical contrivances for altering 
 the settled conditions of labour,* so, probably, in the 
 very instinct and destiny of Genius, which ever drive 
 it to a war with popular prejudice, it would be towards 
 such contrivances that a man of great ingenuity and 
 intellect, if studying the physical sciences, would direct 
 his ambition. 
 
 Whether the author, in the invention he has as- 
 signed to his philosopher (Adam Warner), has too 
 boldly assumed the possibility of a conception so much 
 in advance of the time, they who have examined such 
 of the works of Roger Bacon as are yet given to the 
 world, can best decide; but the assumption in itself 
 belongs strictly to the most acknowledged preroga- 
 tives of Fiction ; and the true and important question 
 will obviously be, not whether Adam Warner could 
 have constructed his model, but whether, having so 
 constructed it, the fate that befell him was probable 
 and natural. 
 
 Such characters as I have here alluded to, seemed, 
 then, to me, in meditating the treatment of the high 
 and brilliant subject which your eloquence animated 
 me to attempt, the proper Representatives of the mul- 
 tiform Truths which the time of Warwick, the King- 
 maker, affords to our interests and suggests for our 
 instruction; and I can only wish that the powers of 
 the author were worthier of the theme. 
 
 It is necessary that I now state briefly the founda- 
 tion of the Historical portions of this narrative. The 
 charming and popular History, of Hume, which, how- 
 
 * Even in the article of bonnets and hats, it appears that 
 certain wicked Fulling Mills were deemed worthy of a special 
 anathema in the reign of Edward IV. These engines are ac- 
 cused of having sought, " by subtle imagination," the destruc- 
 tion of the original makers of hats and bonnets, " by man's 
 strength that is. with hands and feet." And an act of parlia- 
 ment was passed (22nd of Edward IV.) to put down the 
 fabrication of the said hats and bonnets by Mechanical con- 
 trivance.
 
 DEDICATORY EPISTLE xiii 
 
 ever, in its treatment of the reign of Edward IV. is 
 more than ordinarily incorrect, has probably left upon 
 the minds of many of my readers, who may not have 
 directed their attention to more recent and accurate 
 researches into that obscure period, an erroneous im- 
 pression of the causes which led to the breach between 
 Edward IV. and his great kinsman and subject, the 
 Earl of Warwick. The general notion is probably still 
 strong, that it was the marriage of the young king to 
 Elizabeth Gray, during Warwick's negotiations in 
 France for the alliance of Bona of Savoy (sister-in-law 
 to Louis XL), which exasperated the fiery earl, and 
 induced his union with the House of Lancaster. All 
 our more recent historians have justly rejected this 
 groundless fable, which even Hume (his extreme pen- 
 etration supplying the defects of his superficial re- 
 search) admits with reserve.* A short summary of 
 the reasons for this rejection is given by Dr. Lingard, 
 and annexed below, f And, indeed, it is a matter of 
 
 * " There may even some doubt arise with regard to the 
 proposal of marriage made to Bona of Savoy," &c. Hume, 
 note to p. 222, vol. iii. edit. 1825. 
 
 t " Many writers tell us that the enmity of Warwick arose 
 from his disappointment, caused by Edward's clandestine mar- 
 riage with Elizabeth. If we may believe them, the earl was at 
 the very time in France negotiating on the part of the king a 
 marriage with Bona of Savoy, sister to the Queen of France; 
 and having succeeded in his mission, brought back with him 
 the Count of Dampmartin as ambassador from Louis. To me 
 the whole story appears a fiction, i. It is not to be found in 
 the more ancient historians. 2. Warwick was not at the time 
 in France. On the 20th of April, ten days before the marriage, 
 he was employed in negotiating a truce with the French en- 
 voys in London (Rym. xi. 521), and on the 26th of May, about 
 three weeks after it, was appointed to treat of another truce 
 with the King of Scots (Rym. xi. 424). 3. Nor could he 
 bring Dampmartin with him to England. For that nobleman 
 was committed a prisoner to the Bastile in September, 1463, 
 and remained there till May, 1465. (Monstrel. iii. 97, 109.) 
 Three contemporary and well-informed writers, the two con- 
 tinuators of the History of Croyland, and Wyrcester, attribute 
 his discontent to the marriages and honours granted to the 
 Wydeviles, and the marriage of the Princess Margaret with 
 the Duke of Burgundy." Lingard, vol. iii. c. 24, p. 5, 19, 410 
 edition.
 
 xiv DEDICATORY EPISTLE 
 
 wonder that so many of our chroniclers could have 
 gravely admitted a legend contradicted by all the sub- 
 sequent conduct of Warwick himself. For we find the 
 earl specially doing honour to the publication of Ed- 
 ward's marriage, standing godfather to his first-born 
 (the Princess Elizabeth), employed as ambassador, or 
 acting as minister, and fighting for Edward, and 
 against the Lancastrians during the five years that 
 elapsed between the coronation of Elizabeth and War- 
 wick's rebellion. 
 
 The real causes of this memorable quarrel, in which 
 Warwick acquired his title of King-maker, appear to 
 have been these. 
 
 It is probable enough, as Sharon Turner suggests,* 
 that Warwick was disappointed that, since Edward 
 chose a subject for his wife, he neglected the more suit- 
 able marriage he might have formed with the earl's 
 eldest daughter: and it is impossible but that the 
 earl should have greatly chafed in common with all his 
 order, by the promotion of the queen's relations,! new 
 men, and apostate Lancastrians. But it is clear that 
 these causes for discontent never weakened his zeal 
 for Edward till the year 1467, when we chance upon 
 the true origin of the romance concerning Bona of 
 Savoy, and the first open dissension between Edward 
 and the earl. 
 
 In that year Warwick went to France, to conclude 
 an alliance with Louis XL, and to secure the hand of 
 one of the French princes \ for Margaret, sister to 
 Edward IV.; during this period, Edward received the 
 bastard brother of Charles, Count of Charolois, after- 
 wards Duke of Burgundy, and arranged a marriage 
 between Margaret and the count. 
 
 * Sharon Turner, " History of England," vol. iii. p. 269. 
 
 t W. Wyr. 506, 7. Croyl. 542. 
 
 $ Which of the princes this was does not appear, and can 
 scarcely be conjectured. The " Pictorial History of England " 
 (Book v. 102), in a tone of easy decision, says " it was one 
 of the sons of Louis XI." But Louis had no living sons at 
 all at the time. The Dauphin was not born till three years 
 afterwards. The most probable person was the Duke of 
 Guienne, Louis's brother.
 
 XV 
 
 Warwick's embassy was thus dishonoured, and the 
 dishonour was aggravated by personal enmity to the 
 bridegroom Edward had preferred.* The earl retired 
 in disgust to his castle. But Warwick's nature, which 
 Hume has happily described as one of " undesigning 
 frankness and openness," f does not seem to have long 
 harboured this resentment. By the intercession of 
 the Archbishop of York and others, a reconciliation 
 was effected, and the next year, 1468, we find War- 
 wick again in favour, and even so far forgetting his 
 own former cause of complaint as to accompany the 
 procession in honour of Margaret's nuptials with his 
 private foe.J In the following year, however, arose 
 the second dissension between the king and his min- 
 ister viz., in the king's refusal to sanction the mar- 
 riage of his brother Clarence with the earl's daughter 
 Isabel, a refusal which was attended with a resolute 
 opposition that must greatly have galled the pride 
 of the earl, since Edward even went so far as to 
 solicit the pope to refuse his sanction, on the ground 
 of relationship. The pope, nevertheless, grants the 
 dispensation, and the marriage takes place at Calais. 
 A popular rebellion then breaks out in England. 
 Some of Warwick's kinsmen- those, however, be- 
 longing to the branch of the Nevile family that had 
 always been Lancastrians, and at variance with the 
 earl's party are found at its head. The king, who 
 
 * The Croyland Historian, who, as far as his brief and meagre 
 record extends, is the best authority for the time of Edward 
 IV., very decidedly states the Burgundian alliance to be the 
 original cause of Warwick's displeasure, rather than the king's 
 marriage with Elizabeth: "Upon which (the marriage of 
 Margaret with Charolois), Richard Nevile, Earl of Warwick, 
 who had for so many years taken party with the French against 
 the Burgundians, conceived great indignation ; and I hold this 
 to be the truer cause of his resentment, than the king's mar- 
 riage with Elizabeth, for he had rather have procured a hus- 
 band for the aforesaid Princess Margaret in the kingdom of 
 France." The Croyland Hirtorian also speaks emphatically of 
 the strong animosity existing between Charolois and Warwick. 
 Cont. Croyl. 551. 
 
 ( Hume, " Henry VI.," vol. iii. p. 172, edit. 1825. 
 
 J Lingard. Carte. Wm. Wyre.
 
 xvi DEDICATORY EPISTLE 
 
 is in imminent danger, writes a supplicating letter to 
 Warwick to come to his aid.* The earl again forgets 
 former causes for resentment, hastens from Calais, 
 rescues the king, and quells the rebellion by the in- 
 fluence of his popular name. 
 
 We next find Edward at Warwick's castle of Mid- 
 dleham, where, according to some historians, he is 
 forcibly detained, an assertion treated by others as a 
 contemptible invention ; but, whatever the true con- 
 struction of the story, we find that Warwick and the 
 king are still on such friendly terms, that the earl 
 marches in person against a rebellion on the borders 
 obtains a signal victory and that the rebel leader 
 (the earl's own kinsman) is beheaded by Edward at 
 York. We find that, immediately after this supposed 
 detention, Edward speaks of Warwick and his brothers 
 " as his best friends " f that he betroths his eldest 
 daughter to Warwick's nephew, the male heir of the 
 family. And then suddenly, only three months after- 
 wards (in Feb. 1470), and without any clear and ap- 
 parent cause, we find Warwick in open rebellion, 
 animated by a deadly hatred to the king, refusing, 
 from first to last, all overtures of conciliation ; and so 
 determined is his vengeance, that he bows a pride, 
 hitherto morbidly susceptible, to the vehement inso- 
 
 * " Paston Letters," cxcviii. vol. ii., Knight's edition. See 
 Lingard, c. 24, for the true date of Edward's letters to War- 
 wick, Clarence, and the Archbishop of York. 
 
 t " Paston Letters," cciv. vol. ii., Knight's edition. The 
 date of this letter, which puzzled the worthy annotator, is 
 clearly to be referred to Edward's return from York, after his 
 visit to Middleham in 1469. No mention is therein made by 
 the gossiping contemporary of any rumour that Edward had 
 suffered imprisonment. He enters the city in state, as having 
 returned safe and victorious from a formidable rebellion. The 
 letter goes on to say " The king himself hath [that is, holds] 
 good language of the Lords Clarence, of Warwick, &c., say- 
 ing, ' they be his best friends.' " Would he say this if just 
 escaped from a prison? Sir John Paston, the writer of the 
 letter, adds, it is true, " But his household men have [hold] 
 other language." Very probably, for the household men were 
 the court creatures always at variance with Warwick, and 
 held, no doubt, the same language they had been in the habit 
 of holding before.
 
 DEDICATORY EPISTLE xvii 
 
 lence of Margaret of Anjou, and forms the closest 
 alliance with the Lancastrian party, in the destruction 
 of which his whole life had previously been employed.. 
 
 Here, then, where History leaves us in the dark 
 where our curiosity is the most excited, Fiction 
 gropes amidst the ancient chronicles, and seeks to 
 detect and to guess the truth. And then, Fiction, ac- 
 customed to deal with the human heart, seizes upon 
 the paramount importance of a Fact which the modern 
 historian has been contented to place amongst dubious 
 and collateral causes of dissension. We find it broadly 
 and strongly stated, by Hall and others, that Edward 
 had coarsely attempted the virtue of one of the earl's 
 female relations. " And farther it erreth not from 
 the truth," says Hall, " that the king did attempt a 
 thing once in the earl's house, which was much against 
 the earl's honesty ; but whether it was the daughter 
 or the niece," adds the chronicler, " was not, for both 
 their honours, openly known ; but surely such a thing 
 was attempted by King Edward," &c. 
 
 Any one at all familiar with Hall (and, indeed, with 
 all our principal chroniclers, except Fabyan) will not 
 expect any accurate precision as to the date he assigns 
 for the outrage. He awards to it, therefore, the same 
 date he erroneously gives to Warwick's other grudges 
 (viz. a period brought some years lower by all judi- 
 cious historians), a date at which Warwick was still 
 Edward's fastest friend. 
 
 Once grant the probability of this insult to the earl 
 (the probability is conceded at once by the more re- 
 cent historians, and received without scruple as a fact 
 by Rapin, Habington, and Carte), and the whole ob- 
 scurity which involves this memorable quarrel van- 
 ishes at once. Here was, indeed, a wrong never to be 
 forgiven, and yet never to be proclaimed. As Hall im- 
 plies, the honour of the earl was implicated in hushing 
 the scandal, and the honour of Edward in concealing 
 the offence. That, if ever the insult were attempted, 
 it must have been just previous to the earl's declared 
 hostility, is clear. Offences of that kind hurry men to
 
 xviii DEDICATORY EPISTLE 
 
 immediate action at the first, or else, if they stoop to 
 dissimulation, the more effectually to avenge after- 
 wards, the outbreak bides its seasonable time. But 
 the time selected by the earl for his outbreak was the 
 very worst he could have chosen, and attests the in- 
 fluence of a sudden passion a new and uncalculated 
 cause of resentment. He had no forces collected 
 he had not even sounded his own brother-in-law, Lord 
 Stanley (since he was uncertain of his intentions), 
 while, but a few months before, had he felt any desire 
 to dethrone the king, he could either have suffered 
 him to be crushed by the popular rebellion the earl 
 himself had quelled, or have disposed of his person 
 as he pleased when a guest at his own castle of Mid- 
 dleham. His evident want of all preparation and fore- 
 thought a want which drove into rapid and compul- 
 sory flight from England the baron to whose banner, 
 a few months afterwards, flocked sixty thousand men 
 proves that the cause of his alienation was fresh and 
 recent. 
 
 If, then, the cause we have referred to, as mentioned 
 by Hall and others, seems the most probable we can 
 find (no other cause for such abrupt hostility being dis- 
 cernible), the date for it must be placed where it is in 
 this work viz., just prior to the earl's revolt. The 
 next question is, who could have been the lady thus 
 offended, whether a niece or daughter ; scarcely a 
 niece. For Warwick had one married brother, Lord 
 Montagu, and several sisters; but the sisters were 
 married to lords who remained friendly to Edward,* 
 and Montagu seems to have had no daughter out of 
 childhood, f while that nobleman himself did not share 
 
 * Except the sisters married to Lord Fitzhugh and Lord Ox- 
 ford. But though Fitzhugh, or rather his son, broke into 
 rebellion, it was for some cause in which Warwick did not 
 sympathise, for by Warwick himself was that rebellion put 
 down ; nor could the aggrieved lady have been a daughter of 
 Lord Oxford's, for he was a stanch, though not avowed, Lan- 
 castrian, and seems to have carefully kept aloof from the court. 
 
 t Montagu's wife could have been little more than thirty at 
 the time of his death. She married again, and had a family 
 by her second husband
 
 DEDICATORY EPISTLE xix 
 
 Warwick's rebellion at the first, but continued to enjoy 
 the confidence of Edward. We cannot reasonably, 
 then, conceive the uncle to have been so much more 
 revengeful than the parents the legitimate guardians 
 of the honour of a daughter. It is, therefore, more 
 probable that the insulted maiden should have been 
 one of Lord Warwick's daughters, and this is the gen- 
 eral belief. Carte plainly declares it was Isabel. But 
 Isabel it could hardly have been ; she was then married 
 to Edward's brother, the Duke of Clarence, and with- 
 in a month of her confinement. The earl had only one 
 other daughter, Anne, then in the flower of her youth ; 
 and though Isabel appears to have possessed a more 
 striking character of beauty, Anne must have had no 
 inconsiderable charms to have won the love of the 
 Lancastrian Prince Edward, and to have inspired a 
 tender and human affection in Richard Duke of 
 Gloucester.* It is also noticeable, that when, not as 
 
 * Not only does Majerus, the Flemish annalist, speak of 
 Richard's early affection to Anne, but Richard's pertinacity 
 in marrying her, at a time when her family was crushed and 
 fallen, seems to sanction the assertion. True, that Richard 
 received her with a considerable portion of the estates of her 
 parents. But both Anne herself and her parents were attainted, 
 and the whole property at the disposal of the crown. Richard 
 at that time had conferred the most important services on 
 Edward. He had remained faithful to him during the re- 
 bellion of Clarence he had been the hero of the day both at 
 Barnet and Tewksbury. His reputation was then exceedingly 
 high, and if he had demanded, as a legitimate reward, the 
 lands of Middleham, without the bride, Edward could not well 
 have refused them. He certainly had a much better claim than 
 the only other competitor for the confiscated estates viz., the 
 perjured and despicable Clarence. For Anne's reluctance to 
 marry Richard, and the disguise she assumed, see Miss Strick- 
 land's " Life of Anne of Warwick." For the honour of Anne, 
 rather than of Richard, to whose memory, one crime more or 
 less, matters but little, it may here be observed, that so far 
 fiom there being any ground to suppose that Gloucester was 
 an accomplice in the assassination of the young prince Edward 
 of Lancaster, there is some ground to believe that that prince 
 was not assassinated at all, but died (as we would fain hope 
 the grandson of Henry V. did die) fighting manfully in the 
 field. " Harleian MSS. :" Stowe, " Chronicle of Tewksbury;" 
 Sharon Turner, vol. iii. p. 335.
 
 xx DEDICATORY EPISTLE 
 
 Shakspeare represents, but after long solicitation, and 
 apparently by positive coercion, Anne formed her 
 second marriage, she seems to have been kept care- 
 fully by Richard from his gay brother's court, and 
 rarely, if ever, to have appeared in London till Edward 
 was no more. 
 
 That considerable obscurity should always rest 
 upon the facts connected with Edward's meditated 
 crime that they should never be published amongst 
 the grievances of the haughty rebel, is natural from the 
 very dignity of the parties, and the character of the 
 offence that in such obscurity, sober History should 
 not venture too far on the hypothesis suggested by 
 the chronicler, is right and laudable. But probably 
 it will be conceded by all, that here Fiction finds its 
 lawful province, and that it may reasonably help, by 
 no improbable nor groundless conjecture, to render 
 connected and clear the most broken and the darkest 
 fragments of our annals. 
 
 I have judged it better partially to forestall the in- 
 terest of the reader in my narrative, by stating thus 
 openly what he may expect, than to encounter the far 
 less favourable impression (if he had been hitherto a 
 believer in the old romance of Bona of Savoy*), that 
 the author was taking an unwarrantable liberty with 
 the real facts, when, in truth, it is upon the real facts, 
 as far as they can be ascertained, that the author has 
 built his tale, and his boldest inventions are but deduc- 
 tions from the amplest evidence he could collect. 
 Nay, he even ventures to believe, that whoever here- 
 after shall write the history of Edward IV. will not 
 disdain to avail himself of some suggestions scattered 
 throughout these volumes, and tending to throw new 
 light upon the events of that intricate but important 
 period. 
 
 * I say, the old romance of Bona of Savoy so far as Ed- 
 ward's rejection of her hand for that of Elizabeth Gray, is 
 stated to have made the cause of his quarrel with Warwick. 
 But I do not deny the possibility that such a marriage had 
 been contemplated and advised by Warwick, though he neither 
 sought to negotiate it, nor was wronged by Edward's preference 
 of his fair subject.
 
 XXI 
 
 It is probable that this work will prove more popular 
 in its nature than my last fiction of " Zanoni," which 
 could only be relished by those interested in the ex- 
 amination of the various problems in human life which 
 it attempts to solve. But both fictions, however dif- 
 ferent and distinct their treatment, are constructed on 
 those principles of art to which, in all my later works, 
 however imperfect my success, I have sought at least 
 steadily to adhere. 
 
 To my mind, a writer should sit down to compose 
 a fiction as a painter prepares to compose a picture. 
 His first care should be the conception of a whole as 
 lofty as his intellect can grasp as harmonious and 
 complete as his art can accomplish ; his second care, 
 the character of the interest which the details are in- 
 tended to sustain. 
 
 It is when we compare works of imagination in writ- 
 ing, with works of imagination on the canvas, that we 
 can best form a critical idea of the different schools 
 which exist in each ; for common both to the author 
 and the painter are those styles which we call the 
 Familiar, the Picturesque, and the Intellectual. By 
 recurring to this comparison we can, without much 
 difficulty, classify works of Fiction in their proper 
 order, and estimate the rank they should severally 
 hold. The Intellectual will probably never be the most 
 widely popular for the moment. He who prefers to 
 study in this school must be prepared for much depre- 
 ciation, for its greatest excellences, even if he achieve 
 them, are not the most obvious to the many. In dis- 
 cussing, for instance, a modern work, we hear it 
 praised, perhaps, for some striking passage, some 
 prominent character ; but when do we ever hear any 
 comment on its harmony of construction, on its fulness 
 of design, on its ideal character, on its essentials, in 
 short, as a work of art? What we hear most valued 
 in the picture, we often find the most neglected in the 
 book viz., the composition; and this, simply, because 
 in England painting is recognised as an art, and esti- 
 mated according to definite theories. But in literature, 
 we judge from a taste never formed from a thousand
 
 xxii DEDICATORY EPISTLE 
 
 prejudices and ignorant predilections. We do not yet 
 comprehend that the author is an artist, and that the 
 true rules of art by which he should be tested are 
 precise and immutable. Hence the singular and fan- 
 tastic caprices of the popular opinion its exaggera- 
 tions of praise or censure its passion and reaction. 
 At one while, its solemn contempt for Wordsworth 
 at another, its absurd idolatry. At one while, we are 
 stunned by the noisy celebrity of Byron at another, 
 we are calmly told that he can scarcely be called a 
 poet. Each of these variations in the public is im- 
 plicitly followed by the vulgar criticism ; and as a few 
 years back our journals vied with each other in ridi- 
 culing Wordsworth for the faults which he did not 
 possess, they vie now with each other in eulogiums 
 upon the merits which he has never displayed. 
 
 These violent fluctuations betray both a public and a 
 criticism utterly unschooled in the elementary prin- 
 ciples of literary art, and entitle the humblest author 
 to dispute the censure of the hour, while they ought 
 to render the greatest suspicious of its praise. 
 
 It is, then, in conformity, not with any presumptu- 
 ous conviction of his own superiority, but with his 
 common experience and common sense, that every 
 author who addresses an English audience in serious 
 earnest is permitted to feel that his final sentence rests 
 not with the jury before which he is first heard. The 
 literary history of the day consists of a series of judg- 
 ments set aside. 
 
 But this uncertainty must more essentially betide 
 every student, however lowly, in the school I have 
 called the Intellectual, which must ever be more or 
 less at variance with the popular canons ; it is its hard 
 necessity to vex and disturb the lazy quietude of vulgar 
 taste, for unless it did so, it could neither elevate nor 
 move. He who resigns the Dutch art for the Italian 
 must continue through the dark to explore the prin- 
 ciples upon which he founds his design to which he 
 adapts his execution: in hope or in despondence, still 
 faithful to the theory which cares less for the amount 
 of interest created than for the sources from which
 
 DEDICATORY EPISTLE xxiii 
 
 the interest is to be drawn seeking in action the 
 movement of the grander passions, or the subtler 
 springs of conduct seeking in repose the colouring 
 of intellectual beauty. 
 
 The Low and the High of Art are not very readily 
 comprehended; they depend not upon -the worldly 
 degree or the physical condition of the characters 
 delineated; they depend entirely upon the quality of 
 the emotion which the characters are intended to ex- 
 cite viz., whether of sympathy for something low, 
 or of admiration for something high. There is noth- 
 ing high in a boor's head by Teniers there is nothing 
 low in a boor's head by Guido. What makes the dif- 
 ference between the two? The absence or presence 
 of the Ideal! But every one can judge of the merit of 
 the first for it is of the Familiar school it requires 
 a connoisseur to see the merit of the last, for it is of 
 the Intellectual. 
 
 I have the less scrupled to leave these remarks to 
 cavil or to sarcasm, because this fiction is probably the 
 last with which I shall trespass upon the Public, and I 
 am desirous that it shall contain, at least, my avowal 
 of the principles upon which it and its later prede- 
 cessors have been composed : you know well, however 
 others may dispute the fact, the earnestness with which 
 those principles have been meditated and pursued, 
 with high desire, if but with poor results. 
 
 It is a pleasure to feel that the aim, which I value 
 more than the success, is comprehended by one whose 
 exquisite taste as a critic is only impaired by that far 
 rarer quality the disposition to oz^r-estimate the per- 
 son you profess to esteem! Adieu, my sincere and 
 valued friend ; and accept, as a mute token of gratitude 
 and regard, these flowers gathered in the Garden 
 where we have so often roved together. 
 
 E. L. B. 
 
 LONDON, 
 
 January, 1843.
 
 PREFACE 
 
 TO THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 This was the first attempt of the Author in His- 
 torical Romance upon English ground. Nor would 
 he have risked the disadvantage of comparison with 
 the genius of Sir Walter Scott, had he not believed 
 that that great writer and his numerous imitators had 
 left altogether unoccupied the peculiar field in His- 
 torical Romance which the Author has here sought 
 to bring into cultivation. In "The Last of the Barons," 
 as in " Harold," the aim has been to illustrate the 
 actual history of the period; and to bring into fuller 
 display than general History itself has done, the char- 
 acters of the principal personages of the time, the 
 motives by which they were probably actuated the 
 state of parties, the condition of the people, and 
 the great social interests which were involved in what, 
 regarded imperfectly, appear but the feuds of rival 
 factions. 
 
 " The Last of the Barons " has been by many es- 
 teemed the best of the Author's romances ; and per- 
 haps in the portraiture of actual character, and the 
 grouping of the various interests and agencies of the 
 time, it may have produced effects which render it 
 more vigorous and life-like than any of the other at- 
 tempts in romance by the same hand. 
 
 It will be observed that the purely imaginary char- 
 acters introduced are very few; and, however promi- 
 nent they may appear, still, in order not to interfere 
 with the genuine passions and events of history, they 
 are represented as the passive sufferers, not the active 
 agents, of the real events. Of these imaginary char-
 
 xxvi PREFACE 
 
 acters, the most successful is Adam Warner, the 
 philosopher in advance of his age ; indeed, as an ideal 
 portrait, I look upon it as the most original in con- 
 ception, and the most finished in execution, of any to 
 be found in my numerous prose works, " Zanoni " 
 alone excepted. 
 
 For the rest, I venture to think that the general 
 reader will obtain from these pages a better notion of 
 the important age, characterised by the decline of the 
 feudal system, and immediately preceding that great 
 change in society which we usually date from the 
 accession of Henry VII., than he could otherwise 
 gather without wading through a vast mass of neg- 
 lected chronicles and antiquarian dissertations.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 BOOK I 
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF MASTER MARMADUKE NEVILE 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 I. The Pastime-Ground of Old Cockaigne I 
 
 II. The Broken Cittern 20 
 
 III. The Trader and the Gentle; or, The Changing 
 
 Generation 33 
 
 IV. Ill Fares the Country Mouse in the Traps of Town 44 
 V. Weal to the Idler Woe to the Workman . . 53 
 
 VI. Master Marmaduke Nevile Fears for the Spiritual 
 
 Weal of his Host and Hostess . . . . 75 
 VII. There is a Rod for the Back of every Fool who 
 
 would be Wiser than his Generation . . 83 
 VIII. Master Marmaduke Nevile Makes Love and is 
 
 Frightened 96 
 
 IX. Master Marmaduke Nevile Leaves the Wizard's 
 
 House for the Great World .... 104 
 
 BOOK II 
 THE KING'S COURT 
 
 I. Earl Warwick the King-Maker Ill 
 
 II. King Edward the Fourth 131 
 
 III. The Antechamber 144
 
 xxviii CONTENTS 
 
 BOOK III 
 
 IN WHICH THE HISTORY PASSES FROM THE KING'S COURT TO 
 THE STUDENT'S CELL, AND RELATES THE PERILS THAT 
 BEFELL A PHILOSOPHER FOR MEDDLING WITH THE AFFAIRS 
 OF THE WORLD 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 I. The Solitary Sage and the Solitary Maid . . 152 
 
 II. Master Adam Warner Grows a Miser, and Be- 
 haves Shamefully 155 
 
 III. A Strange Visitor All Ages of the World Breed 
 
 World-Betters 163 
 
 IV. Lord Hastings 175 
 
 V. Master Adam Warner and King Henry the Sixth 181 
 
 VI. How, on Leaving King Log, Foolish Wisdom 
 
 Runs A-Muck on King Stork .... 197 
 
 VII. My Lady Duchess's Opinion of the Utility of Mas- 
 ter Warner's Invention, and her Esteem for 
 its Explosion! 21 1 
 
 VIII. The Old Woman Talks of Sorrows The Young 
 Woman Dreams of Love The Courtier Flies 
 from Present Power to Remembrances of Past 
 Hopes And the World-Betterer Opens Utopia, 
 with a View of the Gibbet for the Silly Sage 
 he has Seduced into his Schemes So, Ever and 
 Evermore, Runs the World Away ! . . . 215 
 
 IX. How the Destructive Organ of Prince Richard 
 
 Promises Goodly Development .... 224
 
 CONTENTS xxix 
 
 BOOK IV 
 INTRIGUES OF THE COURT OF EDWARD IV 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 I. Margaret of Anjou 233 
 
 II. Ih which are Laid Open to the Reader the Char- 
 acter of Edward the Fourth and that of his 
 Court, with the Machinations of the Wood- 
 villes against the Earl of Warwick . . . 240 
 
 III. Wherein Master Nicholas Alwyn Visits the Court, 
 
 and there Learns Matter of which the Acute 
 Reader will Judge for Himself .... 253 
 
 IV. Exhibiting the Benefits which Royal Patronage 
 
 Confers on Genius. Also the Early Loves of 
 the Lord Hastings ; with Other Matters Edify- 
 ing and Delectable 261 
 
 V. The Woodville Intrigue Prospers Montagu Con- 
 fers with Hastings Visits the Archbishop of 
 York, and is Met on the Road by a Strange 
 Personage 268 
 
 VI. The Arrival of the Count de la Roche, and the 
 Various Excitement Produced on Many Per- 
 sonages by that Event 285 
 
 VII. The Renowned Combat between Sir Anthony 
 
 Woodville and the Bastard of Burgundy . . 309 
 
 VIII. How the Bastard of Burgundy Prospered more in 
 his Policy than with the Pole- Axe And how 
 King Edward Holds his Summer Chase in the 
 Fair Groves of Shene 318 
 
 IX. The Great Actor Returns to Fill the Stage . . 330 
 
 X. How the Great Lords Come to the King-Maker, 
 
 and with what Proffers 339
 
 xxx CONTENTS 
 
 BOOK V 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS IN HIS FATHER'S HALLS 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 I. Rural England in the Middle Ages Noble Visitors 
 
 Seek the Castle of Middleham .... 346 
 
 II. Councils and Musings ...... 356 
 
 III. The Sisters 360 
 
 IV. The Destrier . . . .369 
 
 BOOK VI 
 
 HEREIN 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, 
 DEMAGOGUY, 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 SUFFERING AND AS- 
 PIRING FEW 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 I. New Dissensions 378 
 
 II. The Would-Be Improvers of Jove's Foot-Ball, 
 Earth The Sad Father and the Sad Child 
 The Fair Rivals 387 
 
 III. Wherein the Demagogue Seeks the Courtier . . 400 
 
 IV. Sibyll 406 
 
 V. Katherine 411 
 
 VI. Joy for Adam, and Hope for Sibyll And Popular 
 
 Friar Bungey! 416 
 
 VII. A Love Scene 422
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 The noble animal reared again Frontispiece 
 
 Facing 
 page 
 
 " My poor father, thou hast not tasted bread to-day." . . 64 
 
 " I come but to bid you fly." 234 
 
 " King ! there is not a hair on this head which thy whole 
 house could dare to touch." 336
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 BOOK I 
 
 THE ADVENTURES OF MASTER MARMADUKE 
 NEVILE 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE PASTIME-GROUND OF OLD COCKAIGNE 
 
 Westward, beyond the still pleasant, but, even 
 then, no longer solitary, hamlet of Charing, a broad 
 space, broken here and there by scattered houses and 
 venerable pollards, in the early spring of 1467, pre- 
 sented the rural scene for the sports and pastimes 
 of the inhabitants of Westminster and London. 
 Scarcely need we say that open spaces for the popular 
 games and diversions were then numerous in the 
 suburbs of the metropolis. Grateful to some, the 
 fresh pools of Islington; to others, the grass-bare 
 fields of Finsbury ; to all, the edgeless plains of vast 
 Mile-end. But the site to which we are now sum- 
 moned was a new and maiden holiday-ground, lately 
 bestowed upon the townsfolk of Westminster by the 
 powerful Earl of Warwick. 
 
 Raised by a verdant slope above the low marsh- 
 grown soil of Westminster, the ground communi- 
 cated to the left with the Brook-fields, through which 
 stole the peaceful Ty-bourne, and commanded pros- 
 VOL. I. i
 
 2 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 pects, on all sides fair, and on each side varied. Be- 
 hind, rose the twin green hills of Hampstead and 
 Highgate, with the upland park and chase of Mary- 
 bone its stately manor-house half hid in woods. In 
 front might be seen the Convent of the Lepers, dedi- 
 cated to St. James now a palace ; then, to the left, 
 York House,* now Whitehall ; farther on, the spires 
 of Westminster Abbey and the gloomy tower of the 
 Sanctuary ; next, the Palace, with its bulwark and 
 vawmure, soaring from the river; while, eastward, 
 and nearer to the scene, stretched the long bush- 
 grown passage of the Strand, picturesquely varied 
 with bridges, and flanked to the right by the embat- 
 tled halls of feudal nobles, or the inns of the no less 
 powerful prelates, while sombre and huge, amidst 
 hall and inn, loomed the gigantic ruins of the Savoy, 
 demolished in the insurrection of Wat Tyler. Farther 
 on, and farther yet, the eye wandered over tower, and 
 gate, and arch, and spire with frequent glimpses of 
 the broad sunlit river, and the opposite shore crowned 
 by the palace of Lambeth, and the church of St. Mary 
 Overies, till the indistinct cluster of battlements 
 around the Fortress-Palatine bounded the curious 
 gaze. As whatever is new is for a while popular, so 
 to this pastime-ground, on the day we treat of, 
 flocked, not only the idlers of Westminster, but the 
 lordly dwellers of Ludgate and the Flete, and the 
 wealthy citizens of tumultuous Chepe. 
 
 The ground was well suited to the purpose to which 
 it was devoted. About the outskirts, indeed, there 
 were swamps and fish-pools ; but a considerable plot 
 towards the centre presented a level sward, already 
 worn bare and brown by the feet of the multitude. 
 
 * The residence of the Archbishops of York.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 3 
 
 From this, towards the left, extended alleys, some re- 
 cently planted, intended to afford, in summer, cool 
 and shady places for the favourite game of bowls; 
 while scattered clumps, chiefly of old pollards, to the 
 right, broke the space agreeably enough into de- 
 tached portions, each of which afforded its separate 
 pastime or diversion. Around were ranged many 
 carts, or waggons horses of all sorts and value were 
 led to and fro, while their owners were at sport. 
 Tents, awnings, hostelries temporary buildings 
 stages for showmen and jugglers abounded, and 
 gave the scene the appearance of a fair. But what 
 particularly now demands our attention was a broad 
 ploL in the ground, dedicated to the noble diversion 
 of archery. The reigning house of York owed much 
 of its military success to the superiority of the bow- 
 men under its banners, and the Londoners themselves 
 were jealous of their reputation in this martial accom- 
 plishment. For the last fifty years, notwithstanding 
 the warlike nature of the times, the practice of the 
 bow, in the intervals of peace, had been more neg- 
 lected than seemed wise to the rulers. Both the king 
 and his loyal city had of late taken much pains to en- 
 force the due exercise of " Goddes instrumente," * 
 upon which an edict had declared that " the liberties 
 and honour of England principally rested ! " 
 
 And numerous now was the attendance, not only 
 of the citizens, the burghers, and the idle populace, 
 but of the gallant nobles who surrounded the court 
 of Edward IV., then in the prime of his youth; the 
 handsomest, the gayest, and the bravest prince in 
 Christendom. 
 
 * So called emphatically by Bishop Latimer, in his celebrated 
 Sixth Sermon.
 
 4 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 The royal tournaments (which were, however, wan- 
 ing from their ancient lustre to kindle afresh, and to 
 expire in the reigns of the succeeding Tudors), re- 
 stricted to the amusements of knight and noble, no 
 doubt presented more of pomp and splendour than 
 the motley and mixed assembly of all ranks that now 
 grouped around the competitors for the silver arrow, 
 or listened to the itinerant jongleur, dissour, or min- 
 strel; or, seated under the stunted shade of the old 
 trees, indulged with eager looks, and hands often 
 wandering to their dagger-hilts, in the absorbing pas- 
 sion of the dice ; but no later and earlier scenes of 
 revelry ever, perhaps, exhibited that heartiness of en- 
 joyment, that universal holiday, which attended this 
 mixture of every class, that established a rude equality 
 for the hour between the knight and the retainer, 
 the burgess and the courtier. 
 
 The revolution that placed Edward IV. upon the 
 throne had, in fact, been a popular one. Not only had 
 the valour and moderation of his father, Richard, 
 Duke of York, bequeathed a heritage of affection to 
 his brave and accomplished son not only were the 
 most beloved of the great barons the leaders of his 
 party but the king himself, partly from inclination, 
 partly from policy, spared no pains to win the good 
 graces of that slowly rising, but even then important 
 part of the population the Middle Class. He was 
 the first king who descended, without loss of dignity 
 and respect, from the society of his peers and princes, 
 to join familiarly in the feasts and diversions of the 
 merchant and the trader. The lord mayor and coun- 
 cil of London were admitted, on more than one sol- 
 emn occasion, into the deliberations of the court ; and 
 Edward had not long since, on the coronation of his
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 5 
 
 queen, much to the discontent of certain of his barons, 
 conferred the knighthood of the Bath upon four of 
 the citizens. On the other hand, though Edward's 
 gallantries the only vice which tended to diminish 
 his popularity with the sober burgesses were little 
 worthy of his station, his frank, joyous familiarity with 
 his inferiors, was not debased by the buffooneries that 
 had led to the reverses and the awful fate of two of 
 his royal predecessors. There must have been a pop- 
 ular principle, indeed, as well as a popular fancy, in- 
 volved in the steady and ardent adherence which the 
 population of London, in particular, and most of the 
 great cities, exhibited to the person and the cause of 
 Edward IV. There was a feeling that his reign was 
 an advance, in civilization, upon the monastic virtues 
 of Henry VI., and the stern ferocity which accom- 
 panied the great qualities of "The Foreign Woman," 
 as the people styled and regarded Henry's consort, 
 Margaret of Anjou. While thus the gifts, the cour- 
 tesy, and the policy of the young sovereign made him 
 popular with the middle classes, he owed the alle- 
 giance of the more powerful barons and the favour of 
 the rural population to a man who stood colossal 
 amidst the iron images of the Age the greatest and 
 the last of the old Norman chivalry kinglier in pride, 
 in state, in possessions, and in renown, than the king 
 himself Richard Nevile, Earl of Salisbury and War- 
 wick. 
 
 This princely personage, in the full vigour of his 
 age, possessed all the attributes that endear the noble 
 to the commons. His valour in the field was accom- 
 panied with a generosity rare in the captains of the 
 time. He valued himself on sharing the perils and the 
 hardships of his meanest soldier. His haughtiness to
 
 6 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 the great was not incompatible with frank affability 
 to the lowly. His wealth was enormous, but it was 
 equalled by his magnificence, and rendered popular 
 by his lavish hospitality. No less than thirty thousand 
 persons are said to have feasted daily at the open 
 tables with which he allured to his countless castles 
 the strong hands and grateful hearts of a martial and 
 unsettled population. More haughty than ambitious, 
 he was feared because he avenged all affront; and 
 yet not envied, because he seemed above all favour. 
 
 The holiday on the Archery-ground was more than 
 usually gay, for the rumour had spread from the court 
 to the city that Edward was about to increase his 
 power abroad, and to repair what he had lost in the 
 eyes of Europe, through his marriage with Elizabeth 
 Gray by allying his sister Margaret with the brother 
 of Louis XL, and that no less a person than the Earl 
 of Warwick had been the day before selected as am- 
 bassador on the important occasion. 
 
 Various opinions were entertained upon the prefer- 
 ence given to France in this alliance, over the rival 
 candidate for the hand of the princess viz., the Count 
 de Charolois, afterwards Charles the Bold, Duke of 
 Burgundy. 
 
 " By'r Lady," said a stout citizen about the age of 
 fifty, " but I am not over pleased with this French 
 marriage-making ! I would liefer the stout earl were 
 going to France with bows and bills, than sarcenets 
 and satins. What will become of our trade with 
 Flanders answer me that, Master Stokton? The 
 house of York is a good house, and the king is a 
 good king, but trade is trade. Every man must draw 
 water to his own mill." 
 
 "Hush, Master Heyford ! " said a small lean man
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 7 
 
 in a light-grey surcoat. " The king loves not talk 
 about what the king does. 'Tis ill jesting with lions. 
 Remember William Walker hanged for saying his son 
 should be heir to the Crown." 
 
 " Troth," answered Master Heyford, nothing 
 daunted, for he belonged to one of the most powerful 
 corporations of London " it was but a scurvy Pep- 
 perer* who made that joke. But a joke from a 
 worshipful goldsmith, who has moneys and influence, 
 and a fair wife of his own, whom the king himself has 
 been pleased to commend, is another guess sort of 
 matter. But here is my grave-visaged headman, who 
 always contrives to pick up the last gossip astir, and 
 has a deep eye into mill-stones. Why, ho, there ! Al- 
 wyn I say, Nicholas Alwyn ! who would have 
 thought to see thee with that bow, a good half-ell 
 taller than thyself? Methought thou wert too sober 
 and studious for such man-at-arms sort of devilry." 
 
 " An' it please you, Master Heyford," answered the 
 person thus addressed a young man, pale and lean, 
 though sinewy and large-boned, with a countenance 
 of great intelligence, but a slow and somewhat formal 
 manner of speech, and a strong provincial accent 
 " An' it please you, King Edward's edict ordains 
 every Englishman to have a bow of his own height; 
 and he who neglects the shaft on a holiday, forfeiteth 
 one halfpenny and some honour. For the rest, me- 
 thinks that the citizens of London will become of 
 more worth and potency every year; and it shall not 
 be my fault if I do not, though but a humble head- 
 man to your worshipful mastership, help to make 
 them so." 
 
 " Why, that's well said, lad ; but if the Londoners 
 * Old name for Grocer.
 
 8 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 prosper, it is because they have nobles in their gip- 
 sires,* not bows in their hands." 
 
 " Thinkest thou, then, Master Heyford, that any 
 king at a pinch would leave them the gipsire, if they 
 could not protect 'it with the bow? That Age may 
 have gold, let not Youth despise iron." 
 
 " Body o' me ! " cried Master Heyford, " but thou 
 hadst better curb in thy tongue. Though I have my 
 jest as a rich man and a corpulent a lad who has 
 his way to make good should be silent and but he's 
 gone." 
 
 " Where hooked you up that young jack-fish ? " 
 said Master Stokton, the thin mercer, who had re- 
 minded the goldsmith of the fate of the grocer. 
 
 " Why, he was meant for the cowl, but his mother, 
 a widow, at his own wish, let him make choice of the 
 flat cap. He was the best 'prentice ever I had. By 
 the blood of St. Thomas, he will push his way in good 
 time ; he has a head, Master Stokton a head and 
 an ear; and a great big pair of eyes always looking 
 out for something to his proper advantage." 
 
 In the meanwhile, the goldsmith's headman had 
 walked leisurely up to the Archery-ground ; and even 
 in his gait and walk, as he thus repaired to r pastime, 
 there was something steady, staid, and business- 
 like. 
 
 The youths of his class and calling were at that day 
 very different from their equals in this. Many of' 
 them the sons of provincial retainers, some even of 
 franklins and gentlemen, their childhood had made 
 them familiar with the splendour and the sports of 
 knighthood; they had learned to wrestle, to i' .'dgel, 
 to pitch the bar or the quoit, to draw the bow, and to 
 * Gipsire, a kind of pouch worn at the girdle.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 9 
 
 practise the sword and buckler, before transplanted 
 from the village green to the city stall. And, even 
 then, the constant broils and wars of the time the 
 example of their betters the holiday spectacle of 
 mimic strife and, above all, the powerful and cor- 
 porate association they formed among themselves 
 tended to make them as wild, as jovial, and as disso- 
 lute a set of young fellows as their posterity are now 
 sober, careful, and discreet. And as Nicholas Alwyn, 
 with a slight inclination of his head, passed by, two 
 or three loud, swaggering, bold-looking groups of ap- 
 prentices their shaggy hair streaming over their 
 shoulders their caps on one side their short cloaks 
 of blue, torn or patched, though still passably new 
 their bludgeons under their arms and their whole 
 appearance and manner not very dissimilar from the 
 German collegians in the last century notably con- 
 trasted Alwyn's prim dress, his precise walk, and the 
 feline care with which he stepped aside from any 
 patches of mire that might sully the soles of his 
 square-toed shoes. 
 
 The idle apprentices winked and whispered, and 
 lolled out their tongues at him as he passed. " Oh ! 
 but tha,t must be as good as a May-Fair day sober 
 Nick Alwyn's maiden flight of the shaft. Hollo, puis- 
 sant archer, take care of the goslings yonder ! Look 
 this way when thou pull'st, and then woe to the other 
 side ! " Venting these and many similar specimens 
 of the humour of Cockaigne, the apprentices, how- 
 ever, followed their quondam colleague, and elbowed 
 their way into the crowd gathered around the com- 
 pe " ors at the butts; and it was at this spot, com- 
 manding a view of the whole space, that the spectator 
 might well have formed some notion of the vast fol-
 
 io THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 lowing of the house of Nevile. For everywhere along 
 the front lines everywhere in the scattered groups 
 might be seen, glistening in the sunlight, the armorial 
 badges of that mighty family. The Pied Bull, which 
 was the proper cognizance* of the Neviles, was prin- 
 cipally borne by the numerous kinsmen of Earl War- 
 wick, who rejoiced in the Nevile name. The Lord 
 Montagu, Warwick's brother, to whom the king had 
 granted the forfeit title and estates of the earls of 
 Northumberland, distinguished his own retainers, 
 however, by the special crest of the ancient Montagus 
 a Gryphon issuant from a ducal crown. But far 
 more numerous than Bull or Gryphon (numerous as 
 either seemed) were the badges borne by those who 
 ranked themselves among the peculiar followers of the 
 great Earl of Warwick : The cognizance of the Bear 
 and Ragged Staff, which he assumed in right of the 
 Beauchamps, whom he represented through his wife, 
 the heiress of the lords of Warwick, was worn in the 
 hats of the more gentle and well-born clansmen and 
 followers, while the Ragged Staff alone was worked 
 front and back on the scarlet jackets of his more 
 humble and personal retainers. It was a matter of 
 popular notice and admiration, that in those who wore 
 these badges, as in the wearers of the hat and staff of 
 the ancient Spartans, might be traced a grave lofti- 
 ness of bearing, as if they belonged to another caste 
 another race, than the herd of men. Near the place 
 where the rivals for the silver arrow were collected, 
 a lordly party had reined in their palfreys, and con- 
 versed with each other, as the judges of the field 
 were marshalling the competitors. 
 
 * The Pied Bull the cognizance the Dun Bull's head the 
 crest.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 11 
 
 " Who," said one of these gallants, " who is that 
 comely young fellow just below us, with the Nevile 
 cognizance of the Bull on his hat? He has the air 
 of one I should know." 
 
 " I never saw him before, my Lord of Northum- 
 berland," answered one of the gentlemen thus ad- 
 dressed, " but, pardieu, he who knows all the Neviles 
 by eye, must know half England." The Lord Mon- 
 tagu, for though at that moment invested with the 
 titles of the Percy, by that name Earl Warwick's 
 brother is known to history, and by that, his rightful 
 name, he shall therefore be designated in these pages ; 
 the Lord Montagu smiled graciously at this re- 
 mark, and a murmur through the crowd announced 
 that the competition for the silver arrow was about 
 to commence. The butts, formed of turf, with a small 
 white mark fastened to the centre by a very minute 
 peg, were placed apart, one at each end, at the dis- 
 tance of eleven score yards. At the extremity, where 
 the shooting commenced, the crowd assembled, tak- 
 ing care to keep clear from the opposite butt, as the 
 warning word of " Fast " was thundered forth ; but 
 eager was the general murmur, and many were the 
 wagers given and accepted, as some well-known 
 archer tried his chance. Near the butt, that now 
 formed the target, stood the marker with his white 
 wand ; and the rapidity with which archer after archer 
 discharged his shaft, and then, if it missed, hurried 
 across the ground to pick it up- (for arrows were dear 
 enough not to be lightly lost), amidst the jeers and 
 laughter of the bystanders, was highly animating and 
 diverting. As yet, however, no marksman had hit 
 the white, though many had gone close to it, when 
 Nicholas Alwyn stepped forward; and there was
 
 12 THE LAS! OF THE BARONS 
 
 something so unwarlike in his whole air, so prim in 
 his gait, so careful in his deliberate survey of the shaft, 
 and his precise adjustment of the leathern gauntlet 
 that protected the arm from the painful twang of the 
 string, that a general burst of laughter from the by- 
 standers attested their anticipation of a signal fail- 
 ure. 
 
 " 'Fore heaven ! " said Montagu, " he handles his 
 bow an' it were a yard measure. One would think he 
 were about to bargain for the bow-string, he eyes it 
 so closely." 
 
 " And now," said Nicholas, slowly adjusting the 
 arrow, " a shot for the honour of old Westmoreland ! " 
 And as he spoke, the arrow sprang gallantly forth, 
 and quivered in the very heart of the white. There 
 was a general movement of surprise among the specta- 
 tors, as the marker thrice shook his wand over his 
 head. But Alwyn, as indifferent to their respect as 
 he had been to their ridicule, turned round and said, 
 with a significant glance at the silent nobles, " We 
 springals of London can take care of our own, if need 
 be." 
 
 " These fellows wax insolent. Our good king 
 spoils them," said Montagu, with a curl of his lip. 
 " I wish some young squire of gentle blood would 
 not disdain a shot for the Nevile against the crafts- 
 man. How say you, fair sir? " And, with a princely 
 courtesy of mien and smile, Lord Montagu turned to 
 the young man he had noticed, as wearing the cog- 
 nizance of the First House in England. The bow 
 was not the customary weapon of the well-born ; but 
 still, in youth, its exercise formed one of the accom- 
 plishments of the future knight, and even princes did 
 not disdain, on a popular holiday, to match a shaft
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 13 
 
 against the yeoman's cloth-yard.* The young man 
 thus addressed, and whose honest, open, handsome, 
 hardy face augured a frank and fearless nature, bowed 
 his head in silence, and then slowly advancing to the 
 umpires, craved permission to essay his skill, and 
 to borrow the loan of a shaft and bow. Leave given 
 and the weapons lent as the young gentleman took 
 his stand, his comely person, his dress, of a better 
 quality than that of the competitors hitherto, and, 
 above all, the Nevile badge worked in silver on his 
 hat, diverted the general attention from Nicholas Al- 
 wyn. A mob is usually inclined to aristocratic pre- 
 dilections, and a murmur of goodwill and expectation 
 greeted him, when he put aside the gauntlet offered 
 to him, and said, " In my youth I was taught so to 
 brace the bow that the string should not touch the 
 arm : and though eleven score yards be but a boy's 
 distance, a good archer will lay his body into his 
 bow f as much as if he were to hit the blanc four hun- 
 dred yards away." 
 
 " A tall fellow this ! " said Montagu ; " and one, I 
 wot, from the North," as the young gallant fitted the 
 shaft to the bow. And graceful and artistic was the 
 attitude he assumed, the head slightly inclined, the 
 feet firmly planted, the left a little in advance, and 
 the stretched sinews of the bow-hand alone evincing 
 that into that grasp was pressed the whole strength 
 
 * At a later period, Henry VIII. was a match for the best 
 bowman in his kingdom. His accomplishment was hereditary, 
 and distinguished alike his wise father and his pious son. 
 
 t " My father taught me to lay my body in my bow," &c., 
 said Latimer, in his well-known sermon before Edward. VI. 
 1549. The Bishop also herein observes, that " it is best to give 
 the bow so much bending that the string need never touch the 
 arm. This," he adds, " is practised by many good archers 
 with whom I am acquainted."
 
 14 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 of the easy and careless frame. The public expecta- 
 tion was not disappointed the youth performed the 
 feat considered of all the most dexterous, his arrow 
 disdaining the white mark, struck the small peg which 
 fastened it to the butts, and which seemed literally 
 invisible to the bystanders. 
 
 " Holy St. Dunstan ! there's but one man who can 
 beat me in that sort that I know of," muttered Nicho- 
 las, " and I little expected to see him take a bite out 
 of his own hip." With that he approached his suc- 
 cessful rival. 
 
 " Well, Master Marmaduke," said he, " it is many 
 a year since you showed me that trick at your father, 
 Sir Guy's God rest him! But I scarce take it kind 
 in you to beat your own countryman ! " 
 
 " Beshrew me ! " cried the youth, and his cheerful 
 features brightened into hearty and cordial pleasure : 
 " but if I see in thee, as it seems to me, my old friend 
 and foster-brother, Nick Alwyn, this is the happiest 
 hour I have known for many a day. But stand back 
 and let me look at thee, man. Thou ! thou a tame 
 London trader ! Ha ! ha ! is it possible ? " 
 
 " Hout, Master Marmaduke," answered Nicholas, 
 " every crow thinks his own baird bonniest, as they 
 say in the North. We will talk of this anon, an' thou 
 wilt honour me. I suspect the archery is over now. 
 Few will think to mend that shot." 
 
 And here, indeed, the umpires advanced, and their 
 chief an old mercer, who had once borne arms, and 
 indeed been a volunteer at the battle of Teuton 
 declared that the contest was over, " unless," he 
 added, in the spirit of a lingering fellow-feeling with 
 the Londoner, " this young fellow, whom I hope to 
 see an alderman one of these days, will demand an-
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 15 
 
 other shot, for as yet there hath been but one prick 
 each at the butts." 
 
 " Nay, master," returned Alwyn, " I have met with 
 my betters and, after all," he added, indifferently, 
 " the silver arrow, though a pretty bauble enough, is 
 over light in its weight." 
 
 " Worshipful sir," said the young Nevile, with 
 equal generosity, " I cannot accept the prize for a 
 mere trick of the craft the blanc was already dis- 
 posed of by Master Alwyn's arrow. Moreover, the 
 contest was intended for the Londoners, and I am 
 but an interloper beholden to their courtesy for 
 a practice of skill and even the loan of a bow 
 wherefore the silver arrow be given to Nicholas 
 Alwyn." 
 
 " That may not be, gentle sir," said the umpire, ex- 
 tending the prize. " Sith Alwyn vails of himself, it 
 is thine, by might and by right." 
 
 The Lord Montagu had not been inattentive to 
 this dialogue, and he now said, in a loud tone that 
 silenced the crowd, " Young Badgeman, thy gallantry 
 pleases me no less than thy skill. Take the arrow, 
 for thou hast won it; but as thou seemest a new 
 comer, it is right thou shouldst pay thy tax upon en- 
 try this be my task. Come hither, I pray thee, good 
 sir," and the nobleman graciously beckoned to the 
 mercer; "be these five nobles the prize of whatever 
 Londoner shall acquit himself best in the bold Eng- 
 lish combat of quarter-staff, and the prize be given in 
 this young archer's name. Thy name, youth?" 
 
 " Marmaduke Nevile, good my lord." 
 
 Montagu smiled, and the umpire withdrew to make 
 the announcement to the bystanders. The proclama- 
 tion was received with a shout that traversed from
 
 16 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 group to group, and line to line, more hearty from the 
 love and honour attached to the name of Nevile, than 
 even from a sense of the gracious generosity of Earl 
 Warwick's brother. One man alone, a sturdy, well- 
 knit fellow, in a franklin's Lincoln broadcloth, and 
 with a hood half-drawn over his features, did not join 
 the popular applause, " These Yorkists," he mut- 
 tered, " know well how to fool the people." 
 
 Meanwhile, the young Nevile still stood by the 
 gilded stirrup of the great noble who had thus hon- 
 oured him, and contemplated him with that respect 
 and interest which a youth's ambition ever feels for 
 those who have won a name. 
 
 The Lord Montagu bore a very different character 
 from his puissant brother. Though so skilful a cap- 
 tain, that he had never been known to lose a battle, 
 his fame as a warrior was, strange to say, below that 
 of the great earl, whose prodigious strength had ac- 
 complished those personal feats that dazzled the 
 populace, and revived the legendary renown of the 
 earlier Norman knighthood. The caution and wari- 
 ness indeed which Montagu displayed in battle, prob- 
 ably caused his success as a general, and the injustice 
 done to him (at least by the vulgar) as a soldier. 
 Rarely had Lord Montagu, though his courage was 
 indisputable, been known to mix personally in the 
 affray. Like the captains of modern times, he con- 
 tented himself with directing the manoeuvres of his 
 men, and hence preserved that inestimable advantage 
 of coolness and calculation, which was not always 
 characteristic of the eager hardihood of his brother. 
 The character of Montagu differed yet more from that 
 of the earl in peace than in war. He was supposed 
 to excel in all those supple arts of the courtier, which
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 17 
 
 Warwick neglected or despised ; and if the last was, 
 on great occasions, the adviser, the other, in ordinary 
 life, was the companion of his sovereign. Warwick 
 owed his popularity to his own large, open, daring, 
 and lavish nature. The subtler Montagu sought to 
 win, by care and pains, what the other obtained with- 
 out an effort. He attended the various holiday meet- 
 ings of the citizens, where Warwick was rarely seen. 
 He was smooth-spoken and courteous to his equals, 
 and generally affable, though with constraint, to his 
 inferiors. He was a close observer, and not without 
 that genius for intrigue, which in rude ages passes for 
 the talent of a statesman. And yet in that thorough 
 knowledge of the habits and tastes of the great mass, 
 which gives wisdom to a ruler, he was far inferior to 
 the earl. In common with his brother, he was gifted 
 with the majesty of mien which imposes on the eye, 
 and his port and countenance were such as became 
 the prodigal expense of velvet, minever, gold, and 
 jewels, by which the gorgeous magnates of the day 
 communicated to their appearance the arrogant 
 splendour of their power. " Young gentleman," said 
 the earl, after eyeing with some attention the comely 
 archer, " I am pleased that you bear the name of 
 Nevile. Vouchsafe to inform me to what scion of 
 our house we are this day indebted for the credit with 
 which you have upborne its cognizance ? " 
 
 " I fear," answered the youth, with a slight but not 
 ungraceful hesitation, " that my lord of Montagu and 
 Northumberland will hardly forgive the presumption 
 with which I have intruded upon this assembly a name 
 borne by nobles so illustrious, especially if it belong 
 to those less fortunate branches of his family which 
 have taken a different side from himself in the late 
 VOL. I. 2
 
 1 8 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 unhappy commotions. My father was Sir Guy 
 Nevile, of Arsdale, in Westmoreland." 
 
 Lord Montagu's lip lost its gracious smile he 
 glanced quickly at the courtiers round him, and said 
 gravely " I grieve to hear it. Had I known this, 
 certes my gipsire had still been five nobles the richer. 
 It becomes not one fresh from the favour of King Ed- 
 ward IV. to show countenance to the son of a man, 
 kinsman though he was, who bore arms for the 
 usurpers of Lancaster. I pray thee, sir, to doff, hence- 
 forth, a badge dedicated only to the service of Royal 
 York. No more, young man ; we may not listen to 
 
 the son of Sir Guy Nevile. Sirs, shall we ride to 
 
 see how the Londoners thrive at quarter-staff?" 
 
 With that, Montagu, deigning no farther regard at 
 Nevile, wheeled his palfrey towards a distant part of 
 the ground, to which the multitude was already press- 
 ing its turbulent and noisy way. 
 
 "Thou art hard on thy namesake, fair my lord," 
 said a young noble, in whose dark-auburn hair, aqui- 
 line haughty features, spare but powerful frame, and 
 inexpressible air of authority and command, were 
 found all the attributes of the purest and eldest Nor- 
 man race the Patricians of the World. 
 
 " Dear Raoul de Fulke," returned Montagu, coldly, 
 " when thou hast reached my age of thirty and four, 
 thou wilt learn that no man's fortune casts so broad 
 a shadow as to shelter from the storm the victims 
 of a fallen cause." 
 
 " Not so would say thy bold brother," answered 
 Raoul de Fulke, with a slight curl of his proud lip. 
 " And I hold, with him, that no king is so sacred that 
 we should render to his resentments our own kith and 
 kin. God's wot, whosoever wears the badge, and
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 19 
 
 springs from the stem, of Raoul de Fulke, shall never 
 find me question overmuch whether his father fought 
 for York or Lancaster." 
 
 " Hush, rash babbler ! " said Montagu, laughing 
 gently ; " what would King Edward say if this speech 
 reached his ears? Our friend," added the courtier, 
 turning to the rest, " in vain would bar the tide of 
 change ; and in this our New England, begirt with 
 new men and new fashions, affect the feudal baronage 
 of the worn-out Norman. But thou art a gallant 
 knight, De Fulke, though a poor courtier." 
 
 " The saints keep me so," returned De Fulke. 
 " From over-gluttony, from over wine-bibbing, from 
 cringing to a king's leman, from quaking at a king's 
 frown, from unbonneting to a greasy mob, from mar- 
 rying an old crone for vile gold, may the saints ever 
 keep Raoul de Fulke and his sons ! Amen ! " 
 
 This speech, in which every sentence struck its sting- 
 ing satire into one or other of the listeners, was suc- 
 ceeded by an awkward silence, which Montagu was 
 the first to break. 
 
 " Pardieu ! " he said, " when did Lord Hastings 
 leave us? and what fair face can have lured the 
 truant?" 
 
 " He left us suddenly on the archery-ground," an- 
 swered the young Lovell. " But as well might we 
 track the breeze to the rose, as Lord William's sigh 
 to maid or matron." 
 
 While thus conversed the cavaliers, and their 
 plumes waved, and their mantles glittered along the 
 broken ground, Marmaduke Nevile's eye pursued the 
 horsemen with all that bitter feeling of wounded pride 
 and impotent resentment with which Youth regards 
 the first insult it receives from Power.
 
 20 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE BROKEN CITTERN 
 
 Rousing himself from his indignant reverie, Mar- 
 maduke Nevile followed one of the smaller streams 
 into which the crowd divided itself on dispersing from 
 the archery-ground, and soon found himself in a part 
 of the holiday scene appropriated to diversions less 
 manly, but no less characteristic of the period than 
 those of the staff and arrow. Beneath an awning, 
 under which an itinerant landlord dispensed cakes and 
 ale, the humorous Bourdour (the most vulgar degree 
 of minstrel, or rather tale-teller) collected his clown- 
 ish audience, while seated by themselves apart, but 
 within hearing two harpers, in the king's livery, con- 
 soled each other for the popularity of their ribald 
 rival, by wise reflections on the base nature of com- 
 mon folk. Farther on, Marmaduke started to behold 
 what seemed to him the heads of giants at least six 
 yards high ; but on a nearer approach, these formid- 
 able apparitions resolved themselves to a company of 
 dancers upon stilts. There, one joculator, exhibited 
 the antics of his well-tutored ape there, another 
 eclipsed the attractions of the baboon by a marvellous 
 horse, that beat a tabor with his fore feet there the 
 more sombre Tregetour, before a table raised upon 
 a lofty stage, promised to cut off and refix the head 
 of a sad-faced little boy, who, in the meantime was 
 preparing his mortal frame for the operation by ap- 
 parently larding himself with sharp knives and bod- 
 kins. Each of these wonder-dealers found his sepa- 
 rate group of admirers, and great was the delight and
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 21 
 
 loud the laughter in the pastime-ground of old Cock- 
 aigne. 
 
 While Marmaduke, bewildered by this various bus- 
 tle, stared around him, his eye was caught by a young 
 maiden, in evident distress, struggling in vain to ex- 
 tricate herself from a troop of timbrel-girls, or tym- 
 bestercs (as they were popularly called), who sur- 
 rounded her with mocking gestures, striking their 
 instruments to drown her remonstrances, and dancing 
 about her in a ring at every effort towards escape. 
 The girl was modestly attired, as one of the humbler 
 ranks, and her wimple in much concealed her coun- 
 tenance ; but there was, despite her strange and un- 
 dignified situation and evident alarm, a sort of quiet, 
 earnest self-possession an effort to hide her terror, 
 and to appeal to the better and more womanly feel- 
 ings of her persecutors. In the intervals of silence 
 from their clamour, her voice, though low, clear, well- 
 tuned, and impressive, forcibly arrested the attention 
 of young Nevile ; for at that day, even more than this 
 (sufficiently apparent as it now is), there was a marked 
 distinction in the intonation, the accent, the modula- 
 tion of voice, between the better bre'd and better edu- 
 cated, and the inferior classes. But this difference, 
 so ill according with her dress and position, only 
 served to heighten more the bold insolence of the 
 musical Bacchantes, who, indeed, in the eyes of the 
 sober, formed the most immoral nuisance attendant 
 on the sports of the time, and whose hardy license and 
 peculiar sisterhood might tempt the antiquarian to 
 search for their origin amongst the relics of ancient 
 Paganism. And now, to increase the girl's distress, 
 some half-score of dissolute apprentices and journey- 
 men suddenly broke into the ring of the Maenads, and
 
 22 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 were accosting her with yet more alarming insults, 
 when Marmaduke, pushing them aside, strode to her 
 assistance. " How now, ye lewd varlets ! ye make 
 me blush for my countrymen in the face of day ! Are 
 these the sports of merry England these your manly 
 contests to strive which can best affront a poor 
 maid? Out on ye, cullions and bezonians ! Cling to 
 me, gentle donzel, and fear not. Whither shall I lead 
 thee?" 
 
 The apprentices were not, however, so easily 
 daunted. Two of them approached to the rescue, 
 flourishing their bludgeons about their heads with 
 formidable gestures " Ho, ho ! " cried one, " what 
 right hast thou to step between the hunters and the 
 doe? The young quean is too much honoured by a 
 kiss from a bold 'prentice of London." 
 
 Marmaduke stepped back, and drew the small dag- 
 ger which then formed the only habitual weapon of 
 a gentleman.* This movement, discomposing his 
 mantle, brought the silver arrow he had won (which 
 was placed in his girdle) in full view of the assailants. 
 At the same time they caught sight of the badge on 
 his hat. These intimidated their ardour more than 
 the drawn poniard. 
 
 " A Nevile ! " said one, retreating. " And the jolly 
 marksman who beat Nick Alwyn," said the other, 
 lowering his bludgeon, and doffing his cap. " Gentle 
 sir, forgive us, we knew not your quality. But as for 
 the girl your gallantry misleads you." 
 
 "The Wizard's daughter! ha! ha! the Imp of 
 
 Darkness ! " screeched the timbrel-girls, tossing up 
 
 their instruments, and catching them again on the 
 
 points of their fingers. " She has enchanted him with 
 
 * Swords were not worn, in peace, at that period.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 23 
 
 her glamour. Foul is fair! Foul fair thee, young 
 springal, if thou go to the nets. Shadow and goblin 
 to goblin and shadow ! Flesh and blood to blood and 
 flesh ! " and dancing round him, with wanton looks 
 and bare arms, and gossamer robes that brushed him 
 as they circled, they chanted 
 
 " Come, kiss me, my darling, 
 Warm kisses I trade for ; 
 Wine, music, and kisses 
 
 What else was life made for ! " 
 
 With some difficulty, and with a disgust which was 
 not altogether without a superstitious fear of the 
 strange words and the outlandish appearance of these 
 loathsome Delilahs, Marmaduke broke from the ring 
 with his new charge ; and in a few moments the Nevile 
 and the maiden found themselves, unmolested and 
 unpursued, in a deserted quarter of the ground ; but 
 still the scream of the timbrel-girls, as they hurried, 
 wheeling and dancing, into the distance, was borne 
 ominously to the young man's ear, " Ha, ha ! the 
 witch and her lover! Foul is fair! foul is fair! 
 Shadow to goblin, goblin to shadow and the Devil 
 will have his own ! " 
 
 " And what mischance, my poor girl," asked the 
 Nevile soothingly, " brought thee into such evil com- 
 pany ? " 
 
 " I know not, fair sir," said the girl, slowly recover- 
 ing herself ; " but my father is poor, and I had heard 
 that on these holiday occasions one who had some 
 slight skill on the gittern might win a few groats from 
 the courtesy of the bystanders. So I stole out with 
 my serving-woman, and had already got more than I 
 dared hope, when those wicked timbrel-players came 
 round me, and accused me of taking the money from
 
 24 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 them. And then they called an officer of the ground, 
 who asked me my name and holding; so when I 
 answered, they called my father a wizard, and the man 
 broke my poor gittern see ! " and she held it up, 
 with innocent sorrow in her eyes, yet a half-smile on 
 her lips " and they soon drove poor old Madge from 
 my side, and I knew no more till you, worshipful sir, 
 took pity on me." 
 
 " But why," asked the Nevile, " did they give to 
 your father so unholy a name ? " 
 
 " Alas, sir ! he is a great scholar, who has spent his 
 means in studying what he says will one day be of 
 good to the people." 
 
 "Humph!" said Marmaduke, who had all the 
 superstitions of his time, who looked upon a scholar, 
 unless in the Church, with mingled awe and abhor- 
 rence, and who, therefore, was but ill-satisfied with 
 the girl's artless answer, 
 
 " Humph ! your father but " checking what he 
 was about, perhaps harshly, to say, as he caught the 
 bright eyes and arch intelligent face lifted to his own 
 " but it is hard to punish the child for the father's 
 errors." 
 
 " Errors, sir ! " repeated the damsel, proudly, and 
 with a slight disdain in her face and voice. " But yes, 
 wisdom is ever, perhaps, the saddest error ! " 
 
 This remark was of an order superior in intellect to 
 those which had preceded it : it contrasted with the 
 sternness of experience the simplicity of the child ; 
 and of such contrasts, indeed, was that character made 
 up. For with a sweet, an infantine change of tone 
 and countenance, she added, after a short pause 
 "They took the money 1 the gittern, see, they left 
 that, when they had made it useless."
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 25 
 
 " I cannot mend the gittern, but I can refill the gip- 
 sire," said Marmaduke. 
 
 The girl coloured deeply. " Nay, sir, to earn is not 
 to beg." 
 
 Marmaduke did not heed this answer, for as they 
 were now passing by the stunted trees, under which 
 sat several revellers, who looked up at him from their 
 cups and tankards, some with sneering, some with 
 grave looks, he began, more seriously than in his 
 kindly impulse he had hitherto done, to consider the 
 appearance it must have, to be thus seen walking, in 
 public, with a girl of inferior degree, and perhaps 
 doubtful repute. Even in our own day, such an exhi- 
 bition would be, to say the least, suspicious, and in 
 that day, when ranks and classes were divided with 
 iron demarcations, a young gallant, whose dress be- 
 spoke him of gentle quality, with one of opposite sex, 
 and belonging to the humbler orders, in broad day 
 too, was far more open to censure. The blood 
 mounted to his brow, and halting abruptly, he said, 
 in a dry and altered voice " My good damsel, you 
 are now, I think, out of danger ; it would ill beseem 
 you, so young and so comely, to go further with one 
 not old enough to be your protector, so, in God's 
 name, depart quickly, and remember me when you 
 buy your new gittern poor child ! " So saying, he 
 attempted to place a piece of money in her hand. She 
 put it back, and the coin fell on the ground. 
 
 " Nay, this is foolish," said he. 
 
 " Alas, sir ! " said the girl gravely, " I see well -that 
 you are ashamed of your goodness. But my father 
 begs not. And once but that matters not." 
 
 " Once what ? " persisted Marmaduke, interested in 
 her manner, in spite of himself.
 
 26 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 " Once," said the girl, drawing herself up, and with 
 an expression that altered the whole character of her 
 face " the beggar ate at my father's gate. He is a 
 born gentleman and a knight's son." 
 
 " And what reduced him thus? " 
 
 " I have said," answered the girl, simply, yet with 
 the same half-scorn on her lip that it had before be- 
 trayed " he is a scholar, and thought more of others 
 than himself." 
 
 " I never saw any good come to a gentleman from 
 those accursed books," said the Nevile ; " fit only for 
 monks and shavelings. But still, for your father's 
 sake, though I am ashamed of the poorness of the 
 gift " 
 
 " No God be with you, sir, and reward you." She 
 stopped short, drew her wimple round her face, and 
 was gone. Nevile felt an uncomfortable sensation of 
 remorse and disapproval at having suffered her to 
 quit him while there was yet any chance of molesta- 
 tion or annoyance, and his eye followed her till a 
 group of trees veiled her from his view. 
 
 The young maiden slackened her pace as she found 
 herself alone under the leafless boughs of the dreary 
 pollards ; a desolate spot, made melancholy by dull 
 swamps, half overgrown with rank verdure, through 
 which forced its clogged way the shallow brook that 
 now gives its name (though its waves are seen no 
 more) to one of the main streets in the most polished 
 quarters of the metropolis. Upon a mound formed 
 by the gnarled roots of the dwarfed and gnome-like 
 oak, she sat down and wept. In our earlier years, 
 most of us may remember, that there was one day 
 which made an epoch in life the day that separated 
 Childhood from Youth; for that day seems not to
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 27 
 
 come gradually, but to be a sudden crisis, an abrupt 
 revelation. The buds of the heart open to close no 
 more. Such a day was this in that girl's fate. But 
 the day was not yet gone ! That morning, when she 
 dressed for her enterprise of filial love, perhaps for 
 the first time Sybill Warner felt that she was fair 
 who shall say, whether some innocent, natural vanity 
 had not blended with the deep, devoted earnestness, 
 which saw no shame in the act by which the child 
 could aid the father? Perhaps she might have smiled 
 to listen to old Madge's praises of her winsome face 
 old Madge's predictions that the face and the git- 
 tern would not lack admirers on the gay ground. 
 Perhaps some indistinct, vague forethoughts of the 
 Future to which the sex will deem itself to be born, 
 might have caused the cheek no, not to blush, but 
 to take a rosier hue, and the pulse to beat quicker, 
 she knew not why. At all events, to that ground went 
 the young Sibyll, cheerful, and almost happy, in her 
 inexperience of actual life, and sure, at least, that 
 youth and innocence sufficed to protect from insult. 
 And now she sat down under the leafless tree to weep ; 
 and in those bitter tears, childhood itself was laved 
 from her soul for ever. 
 
 " What ailest thou, maiden ? " asked a deep voice ; 
 and she felt a hand laid lightly on her shoulder. She 
 looked up in terror and confusion, but it was no form 
 or face to inspire alarm that met her eye. It was 
 a cavalier, holding by the rein a horse richly capari- 
 soned, and though his dress was plainer and less ex- 
 aggerated than that usually worn by men of rank, its 
 materials were those which the sumptuary laws (con- 
 stantly broken, indeed, as such laws ever must be) 
 confined to nobles. Though his surcoat was but of
 
 28 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 cloth, and the colour dark and sober, it was woven in 
 foreign looms an unpatriotic luxury, above the de- 
 gree of knight and edged deep with the costliest 
 sables. The hilt of the dagger, suspended round his 
 breast, was but of ivory, curiously wrought, but the 
 scabbard was sown with large pearls. For the rest, 
 the stranger was of ordinary stature, well knit, and 
 active rather than powerful, and of that age (about 
 thirty-five) which may be called the second prime of 
 man. His face was far less handsome than Marma- 
 duke Nevile's, but infinitely more expressive, both of 
 intelligence and command, the features straight and 
 sharp, the complexion clear and pale, and under the 
 bright grey eyes a dark shade spoke either of dissipa- 
 tion or of thought. 
 
 " What ailest thou, maiden ? weepest thou some 
 faithless lover? Tush! love renews itself in youth, 
 as flower succeeds flower in spring." 
 
 Sibyll made no reply, she rose and moved a few 
 paces, then arrested her steps and looked around her. 
 She had lost all clue to her way homeward, and she 
 saw with horror, in the distance, the hateful timbrel- 
 girls, followed by the rabble, and weaving their 
 strange dances towards the spot. 
 
 " Dost thou fear me, child ? there is no cause," said 
 the stranger, following her. " Again I say, ' What 
 ailest thou ? ' " 
 
 This time his voice was that of command, and the 
 poor girl involuntarily obeyed it. She related her 
 misfortunes, her persecution by the tymbestcres, her 
 escape thanks to the Nevile's courtesy her separa- 
 tion from her attendant, and her uncertainty as to the 
 way she should pursue. 
 
 The nobleman listened with interest : he was a man
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 29 
 
 sated and wearied by pleasure and the world, and 
 the evident innocence of Sibyll was a novelty to his 
 experience, while the contrast between her language 
 and her dress moved his curiosity. " And," said he, 
 " thy protector left thee, his work half done ; fie on 
 his chivalry ! But I, donzel, wear the spurs of knight- 
 hood, and to succour the distressed is a duty my 
 oath will not let me swerve from. I will guide thee 
 home, for I know well all the purlieus of this evil den 
 of London. Thou hast but to name the suburb in 
 which thy father dwells." 
 
 Sibyll involuntarily raised her wimple, lifted her 
 beautiful eyes to the stranger, in bewildered gratitude 
 and surprise. Her childhood had passed in a court 
 her eye, accustomed to rank, at once perceived the 
 high degree of the speaker ! the contrast between this 
 unexpected and delicate gallantry, and the conde- 
 scending tone and abrupt desertion of Marmaduke, 
 affected her again to tears. 
 
 " Ah, worshipful sir ! " she said, falteringly, " what 
 can reward thee for this unlooked-for goodness ? " 
 
 " One innocent smile, sweet virgin ! for such I'll 
 be sworn thou art." 
 
 He did not offer her his hand, but hanging the 
 gold-enamelled rein over his arm, walked by her side ; 
 and a few words sufficing for his guidance, led her 
 across the ground, through the very midst of the 
 throng. He felt none of the young shame, the in- 
 genuous scruples of Marmaduke, at the gaze he en- 
 countered, thus companioned. But Sibyll noted that 
 ever and anon bonnet and cap were raised as they 
 passed along, and the respectful murmur of the vul- 
 gar, who had so lately jeered her anguish, taught her 
 the immeasurable distance in men's esteem, between
 
 30 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 poverty shielded but by virtue, and poverty protected 
 by power. 
 
 But suddenly a gaudy tinsel group broke through 
 the crowd, and wheeling round their path, the fore- 
 most of them daringly approached the nobleman, and 
 looking full into his disdainful face, exclaimed 
 " Tradest thou, too, for kisses ? Ha ! ha ! life is 
 short the witch is outwitched by thee ! But witch- 
 craft and death go together, as, peradventure, thou 
 mayest learn at the last, sleek wooer." Then darting 
 off, and heading her painted, tawdry throng, the tim- 
 brel-girl sprang into the crowd and vanished. 
 
 This incident produced no effect upon the strong 
 and cynical intellect of the stranger. Without allu- 
 sion to it, he continued to converse with his young 
 companion, and artfully to draw out her own singular 
 but energetic and gifted mind. He grew more than 
 interested, he was both touched and surprised. His 
 manner became yet more respectful, his voice more 
 subdued and soft. 
 
 On what hazards turns our fate ! On that day a 
 little and Sibyll's pure, but sensitive heart had, per- 
 haps, been given to the young Nevile. He had de- 
 fended and saved her ; he was fairer than the stranger, 
 he was more of her own years, and nearer to her in 
 station ; but in showing himself ashamed to be seen 
 with her, he had galled her heart, and moved the 
 bitter tears of her pride. What had the stranger 
 done? Nothing, but reconciled the wounded delicacy 
 to itself; and suddenly he became to her one ever 
 to be remembered wondered at perhaps more. 
 They reached an obscure suburb, and parted at the 
 threshold of a large, gloomy, ruinous house, which 
 Sibyll indicated as her father's home.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 31 
 
 The girl lingered before the porch; and the 
 stranger gazed, with the passionless admiration which 
 some fair object of art produces on one who has re- 
 fined his taste, but who has survived enthusiasm, upon 
 the downcast cheek that blushed beneath his gaze 
 " Farewell ! " he said ; and the girl looked up wist- 
 fully. He might, without vanity, have supposed that 
 look to imply what the lip did not dare to say " And 
 shall we meet no more ? " 
 
 But he turned away, with formal though courteous 
 salutation ; and as he remounted his steed, and rode 
 slowly towards the interior of the city, he muttered 
 to himself, with a melancholy smile upon his lips 
 " Now might the grown infant make to himself a new 
 toy ; but an innocent heart is a brittle thing, and one 
 false vow can break it. Pretty maiden. I like thee 
 well eno' not to love thee. So, as my young Scotch 
 minstrel sings and prays, 
 
 " Christ keep these birdis bright in bowers, 
 Sic peril lies in paramours ! " * 
 
 We must now return to Marmaduke. On leaving 
 Sibyll, and retracing his steps towards the more 
 crowded quarter of the space, he was agreeably sur- 
 prised by encountering Nicholas Alwyn, escorted in 
 triumph by a legion of roaring apprentices from the 
 victory he had just obtained over six competitors at 
 the quarter-staff. 
 
 * A Scotch poet, in Lord Hailes's Collection, has the follow- 
 ing lines in the very pretty poem called " Peril in Para- 
 mours : " 
 
 " Wherefore I pray, in termys short, 
 Christ keep these birdis bright in bowers, 
 Fra false lovers and their disport, 
 Sic peril lies in paramours."
 
 32 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 When the cortege came up to Marmaduke, Nicho- 
 las halted, and fronting his attendants, said, with the 
 same cold and formal stiffness that had characterised 
 him from the beginning " I thank you, lads, for 
 your kindness. It is your own triumph. All I cared 
 for was to show that you London boys are able to 
 keep up your credit in these days, when there's little 
 luck in a yard-measure, if the same hand cannot bend 
 a bow, or handle cold steel. But the less we think 
 of the strife when we are in the stall, the better for 
 our pouches. And so I hope we shall hear no more 
 about it, until I get a ware of my own, when the more 
 of ye that like to talk of such matters the better ye 
 will be welcome, always provided ye be civil cus- 
 tomers, who pay on the nail, for as the saw saith, 
 ' Ell and tell makes the crypt swell.' For the rest, 
 thanks are due to this brave gentleman, Marmaduke 
 Nevile, who, though the son of a knight-banneret, 
 who never furnished less to the battle-field than fifty 
 men-at-arms, has condescended to take part and par- 
 cel in the sports of us peaceful London traders ; and 
 if ever you can do him a kind turn for turn and turn 
 is fair play why you will, I answer for it. And so 
 one cheer for old London, and another for Marma- 
 duke Nevile. Here goes ! Hurrah, my lads ! " And 
 with this pithy address Nicholas Alwyn took off his 
 cap and gave the signal for the shouts, which, being 
 duly performed, he bowed stiffly to his companions, 
 who departed with a hearty laugh, and coming to the 
 side of Nevile, the two walked on to a neighbouring 
 booth, where, under a rude awning, and over a flagon 
 of clary, they were soon immersed in the confidential 
 communications each had to give and receive.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 33 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THE TRADER AND THE GENTLE; OR, THE CHANGING 
 
 GENERATION 
 
 " No, my dear foster-brother," said the Nevile, " I 
 do not yet comprehend the choice you have made. 
 You were reared and brought up with such careful 
 book-lere, not only to read and to write the which, 
 save the mark ! I hold to be labour eno' but chop 
 Latin and logic and theology with St. Aristotle (is 
 not that his hard name ?) into the bargain, and all be- 
 cause you had an uncle of high note in Holy Church. 
 I cannot say I would be a shaveling myself; but 
 surely a monk with the hope of preferment, is a nobler 
 calling to a lad of spirit and ambition than to stand 
 out at a door and cry, ' Buy, buy ' ' What d'ye lack ' 
 to spend youth as a Flat-cap, and drone out man- 
 hood in measuring cloth, hammering metals, or 
 weighing out spices ? " 
 
 " Fair and softly, Master Marmaduke," said Alwyn, 
 " you will understand me better anon. My uncle, the 
 sub-prior, died some say of austerities, others of 
 ale that matters not; he was a learned man and a 
 cunning. ' Nephew Nicholas,' said he on his death- 
 bed, ' think twice before you tie yourself up to the 
 cloister; it's ill leaping now-a-days in a sackcloth 
 bag. If a pious man be moved to the cowl by holy de- 
 votion, there is nothing to be said on the subject ; but 
 if he take to the Church as a calling, and wish to 
 march ahead like his fellows, these times show him a 
 prettier path to distinction. The nobles begin to get 
 the best things for themselves ; and a learned monk, 
 VOL. L 3
 
 34 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 if he is the son of a yeoman, cannot hope, without a 
 specialty of grace, to become abbot or bishop. The 
 king, whoever he be, must be so drained by his wars, 
 that he has little land or gold to bestow on his favour- 
 ites ; but his gentry turn an eye to the temporalities 
 of the Church, and the Church and the king wish to 
 strengthen themselves by the gentry. This is not 
 all; there are free opinions afloat. The house of 
 Lancaster has lost ground, by its persecutions and 
 burnings. Men dare not openly resist, but they treas- 
 ure up recollections of a fried grandfather, or a 
 roasted cousin ; recollections which have done much 
 damage to the Henries, and will shake Holy Church 
 itself one of these days. The Lollards lie hid, but Lol- 
 lardism will never die. There is a new class rising 
 amain, where a little learning goes a great way, if 
 mixed with spirit and sense. Thou likest broad 
 pieces, and a creditable name go to London and be 
 a trader. London begins to decide who shall wear the 
 crown, and the traders to decide what king London 
 shall befriend. Wherefore, cut thy trace from the 
 cloister, and take thy road to the shop.' The next 
 day my uncle gave up the ghost. They had better 
 clary than this at the convent, I must own. But 
 every stone has its flaw." 
 
 " Yet," said Marmaduke, " if you took distaste to 
 the cowl, from reasons that I pretend not to judge of, 
 but which seem to my poor head very bad ones, see-, 
 ing that the Church is as mighty as ever, and King 
 Edward is no friend to the Lollards, and that your 
 uncle himself was at least a sub-prior ' 
 
 " Had he been son to a baron, he had been a car- 
 dinal," interrupted Nicholas, " for his head was the 
 longest that ever came out of the north country. But
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 35 
 
 go on ; you would say my father was a sturdy yeo- 
 man, and I might have followed his calling?" 
 
 " You hit the mark, Master Nicholas." 
 
 " Hout, man. I crave pardon of your rank Mas- 
 ter Nevile. But a yeoman is born a yeoman, and he 
 dies a yeoman I think it better to die Lord Mayor 
 of London; and so I craved my mother's blessing 
 and leave, and a part of the old hyde has been sold 
 to pay for the first step to the red gown, which I need 
 not say must be that of the Flat cap. I have already 
 taken my degrees, and no longer wear blue. I am 
 headman to my master, and my master will be sheriff 
 of London." 
 
 " It is a pity," said the Nevile, shaking his head ; 
 " you were ever a tall, brave lad, and would have 
 made a very pretty soldier." 
 
 " Thank you, Master Marmaduke, but I leave cut 
 and thrust to the gentles. I have seen eno' of the life 
 of a retainer. He goes out on foot with his shield 
 and his sword, or his bow and 'his quiver, while sir 
 knight sits on horseback, armed from the crown to 
 the toe, and the arrow slants off from rider and horse, 
 as a stone from a tree. If the retainer is not sliced 
 and carved into mincemeat, he comes home to a heap 
 of ashes, and a handful of acres, harried and rivelled 
 into a common ; sir knight thanks him for his valour, 
 but he does not build up his house ; sir knight gets 
 a grant from the king, or an heiress for his son, and 
 Hob Yeoman turns gisarme and bill into plough- 
 shares. Tut, tut, there's no liberty, no safety, no get- 
 ting on, for a man who has no right to the gold spurs, 
 but in the guild of his fellows ; and London is the 
 place for a born Saxon, like Nicholas Alwyn." 
 
 As the young aspirant thus uttered the sentiments,
 
 36 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 which though others might not so plainly avow and 
 shrewdly enforce them, tended towards that slow 
 revolution, which, under all the stormy events that 
 the superficial record we call HISTORY alone deigns 
 to enumerate, was working that great change in the 
 thoughts and habits of the people that impulsion of 
 the provincial citywards that gradual formation of 
 a class between knight and vassal which became first 
 constitutionally visible and distinct in the reign of 
 Henry VII., Marmaduke Nevile, inly half-regretting 
 and half-despising the reasonings of his foster- 
 brother, was playing with his dagger, and glancing 
 at his silver arrow. 
 
 " Yet you could still have eno' of the tall yeoman 
 and the stout retainer about you to try for this bauble, 
 and to break half a dozen thick heads with your quar- 
 ter-staff ! " 
 
 " True," said Nicholas ; " you must recollect we 
 are only, as yet, between the skin and the selle half- 
 trader, half-retainer. The old leaven will out : ' Eith 
 to learn the cat to the kirn,' as they say in the north. 
 But that's not all ; a man, to get on, must win respect 
 from those who are to jostle him hereafter, and it's 
 good policy to show those roystering youngsters that 
 Nick Alwyn, stiff and steady though he be, has the 
 old English metal in him, if it comes to a pinch; it's 
 a lesson to yon lords too, save your quality, if they 
 ever wish to ride roughshod over our guilds and com- 
 panies. But eno' of me Drawer, another stoup of' 
 the clary. Now, gentle sir, may I make bold to ask 
 news of yourself? I saw, though I spake not before 
 of it, that my Lord Montagu showed a cold face to 
 his kinsman. I know something of these great men, 
 though I be but a small one a dog is no bad guide 
 in the city he trots through."
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 37 
 
 " My dear foster-brother," said the Nevile : " you 
 had ever more brains than myself, as is meet that you 
 should have, since you lay by the steel casque, which, 
 I take it, is meant as a substitute for us gentlemen 
 and soldiers who have not so many brains to spare; 
 and I will willingly profit by your counsels. You 
 must know," he said, drawing nearer to the table, 
 and his frank, hardy face assuming a more earnest ex- 
 pression, " that though my father, Sir Guy, at the 
 instigation of his chief, the Earl of Westmoreland, and 
 of the Lord Nevile, bore arms, at the first for King 
 Henry" 
 
 " Hush ! hush ! for Henry of Windsor ! " 
 " Henry of Windsor ! so be it ! yet being con- 
 nected, like the nobles I have spoken of, with the 
 blood of Warwick and Salisbury, it was ever with 
 doubt and misgiving, and rather in the hope of ulti- 
 mate compromise between both parties (which the 
 Duke of York's moderation rendered probable), than 
 of the extermination of either. But when, at the 
 battle of York, Margaret of Anjou and her generals 
 stained their victory by cruelties which could not fail 
 to close the door on all conciliation ; when the infant 
 son of the duke himself was murdered, though a pris- 
 oner, in cold blood; when my father's kinsman, the 
 Earl of Salisbury, was beheaded without trial ; when 
 the head of the brave and good duke, who had fallen 
 in the field, was, against all knightly and kinglike 
 generosity, mockingly exposed, like a dishonoured 
 robber, on the gates of York, my father, shocked and 
 revolted, withdrew at once from the army, and slacked 
 not bit or spur till he found himself in his hall at Ars- 
 dale. His death, caused partly by his travail and 
 vexation of spirit, together with his timely withdrawal
 
 38 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 from the enemy, preserved his name from the at- 
 tainder passed on the Lords Westmoreland and 
 Nevile ; and my eldest brother, Sir John, accepted the 
 king's proffer of pardon, took the oaths of allegiance 
 to Edward, and lives safe, if obscure, in his father's 
 halls. Thou knowest, my friend, that a younger 
 brother has but small honour at home. Peradventure, 
 in calmer times, I might have bowed my pride to my 
 calling, hunted my brother's dogs, flown his hawks, 
 rented his keeper's lodge, and gone to my grave con- 
 tented. But to a young man, who, from his child- 
 hood, had heard the stirring talk of knights and cap- 
 tains, who had seen valour and fortune make the way 
 to distinction, and whose ears of late had been rilled 
 by the tales of wandering minstrels and dissours, with 
 all the gay wonders of Edward's court, such a life 
 soon grew distasteful. My father, on his death-bed 
 (like thy uncle, the sub-prior), encouraged me little 
 to follow his own footsteps. ' I see,' said he, ' that 
 King Henry is too soft to rule his barons, and Mar- 
 garet too fierce to conciliate the commons the only 
 hope of peace is in the settlement of the house of 
 York. Wherefore let not thy father's errors stand in 
 the way of thy advancement ; ' and therewith he 
 made his confessor for he was no penman himself, 
 the worthy old knight ! indite a letter to his great 
 kinsman, the Earl of Warwick, commending me to 
 his protection. He signed his mark, and set his seal 
 to this missive, which I now have at mine hostelrie, 
 and died the same day. My brother judged me too 
 young then to quit his roof, and condemned me to 
 bear his humours till, at the age of twenty-three, I 
 could bear no more ! So, having sold him my scant 
 share in the heritage, and turned, like thee, bad land
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 39 
 
 into good nobles, I joined a party of horse in their 
 journey to London, and arrived yesterday at Master 
 Sackbut's hostelrie, in Eastchepe. I went this morn- 
 ing to my Lord of Warwick, but he was gone to the 
 king's, and hearing of the merry-makings here, I came 
 hither for kill-time. A chance word of my Lord Mon- 
 tagu, whom St. Dunstan confound, made me conceit 
 that a feat of skill with the cloth-yard might not ill 
 preface my letter to the great earl. But, pardie ! it 
 seems I reckoned without my host, and in seeking to 
 make my fortunes too rashly, I have helped to mar 
 them." Wherewith he related the particulars of his 
 interview with Montagu. 
 
 Nicholas Alwyn listened to him with friendly and 
 thoughtful interest, and, when he had done, spoke 
 thus : 
 
 " The Earl of Warwick is a generous man, and 
 though hot, bears little malice, except against those 
 whom he deems misthink or insult him ; he is proud 
 of being looked up to as a protector, especially by 
 those of his own kith and name. Your father's letter 
 will touch the right string, and you cannot do better 
 than deliver it with a plain story. A young partisan 
 like thee is not to be despised. Thou must trust to 
 Lord Warwick to set matters right with his brother : 
 and now, before I say further let me ask thee, plainly, 
 and without offence, Dost thou so love the house of 
 York that no chance could ever make thee turn sword 
 against it ? Answer as I ask under thy breath ; those 
 drawers are parlous spies ! " 
 
 And here, in justice to Marmaduke Nevile and to 
 his betters, it is necessary to preface his reply by 
 some brief remarks, to which we must crave the ear- 
 nest attention of the reader. What we call PATRIOT-
 
 40 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 ISM, in the high and catholic acceptation of the word, 
 was little if at all understood in days when passion, 
 pride, and interest were motives little softened by 
 reflection and education, and softened still less by the 
 fusion of classes that characterised the small states of 
 old, and marks the civilisation of a modern age. 
 Though the right by descent of the house of York, 
 if genealogy alone were consulted, was indisputably 
 prior to that of Lancaster, yet the long exercise of 
 power in the latter house, the genius of the Fourth 
 Henry, and the victories of the Fifth, would, no doubt, 
 have completely superseded the obsolete claims of the 
 Yorkists, had Henry VI. possessed any of the quali- 
 ties necessary for the time. As it was, men had got 
 puzzled by genealogies and cavils; the sanctity at- 
 tached to the king's name was weakened by his doubt- 
 ful right to his throne, and the Wars of the rival Roses 
 were at last (with two exceptions, presently to be 
 noted) the mere contests of exasperated factions, in 
 which public considerations were scarcely even made 
 the blind to individual interest, prejudice, or passion. 
 Thus instances of desertion, from the one to tha 
 other party, even by the highest nobles, and on the 
 very eve of battle, had grown so common, that little 
 if any disgrace was attached to them : and any knight 
 or captain held an affront to himself an amply suffi- 
 cient cause for the transfer of his allegiance. It would 
 be obviously absurd to expect in any of the actors of 
 that age the more elevated doctrines of party faith and 
 public honour, which clearer notions of national 
 morality, and the salutary exercise of a large general 
 opinion, free from the passions of single individuals, 
 have brought into practice in our more enlightened 
 days. The individual feelings of the individual MAN,
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 41 
 
 strong in himself, became his guide, and he was free 
 in much from th,e regular and thoughtful virtues, as 
 well as from the mean and plausible vices, of those 
 who act only in bodies and corporations. The two 
 exceptions to this idiosyncrasy of motive and conduct, 
 were, first, in the general disposition of the rising 
 middle class, especially in London, to connect great 
 political interests with the more popular house of 
 York. The commons in parliament had acted in op- 
 position to Henry the Sixth, as the laws they wrung 
 from him tended to show, and it was a popular and 
 trading party that came, as it were, into power under 
 King Edward. It is true that Edward was sufficiently 
 arbitrary in himself, but a popular party will stretch 
 as much as its antagonists in favour of despotism 
 exercised on its enemies. And Edward did his best to 
 consult the interests of commerce, though the preju- 
 dices of the merchants interpreted those interests in 
 a way opposite to that in which political economy now 
 understands them. The second exception to the mere 
 hostilities of individual chiefs and feudal factions has, 
 not less than the former, been too much overlooked 
 by historians. But this was a still more powerful ele- 
 ment in the success of the house of York. The hostil- 
 ity against the Roman church, and the tenets of the 
 Lollards, were shared by an immense part of the popu- 
 lation. In the previous century an ancient writer 
 computes that one-half the population were Lollards ; 
 and though the sect were diminished and silenced by 
 fear, they still ceased not to exist, and their doctrines 
 not only shook the Church under Henry VIII., but 
 destroyed the throne by the strong arm of their chil- 
 dren, the Puritans, under Charles I. It was impos- 
 sible that these men should not have felt the deepest
 
 42 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 resentment at the fierce and steadfast persecution they 
 endured under the house of Lancaster; and without 
 pausing to consider how far they would benefit under 
 the dynasty of York, they had all those motives of 
 revenge which are mistaken so often for the councils 
 of policy, to rally round any standard raised against 
 their oppressors. These two great exceptions to 
 merely selfish policy, which it remains for the historian 
 clearly and at length to enforce, these and these alone 
 will always, to a sagacious observer, elevate the Wars 
 of the Roses above those bloody contests for badges 
 which we are, at first sight, tempted to regard them. 
 But these deeper motives animated very little the 
 nobles and the knightly gentry,* and with them the 
 governing principles were, as we have just said, inter- 
 est, ambition, and the zeal for the honour and advance- 
 ment of houses and chiefs. 
 
 " Truly," said Marmaduke, after a short and rather 
 embarrassed pause, " I am little beholden as yet to 
 the house of York. There, where I see a noble bene- 
 factor, or a brave and wise leader, shall I think my 
 sword and heart may best proffer allegiance." 
 
 " Wisely said," returned Alwyn, with a slight but 
 half-sarcastic smile ; " I asked thee the question be- 
 cause (draw closer) there are wise men in our city 
 who think the ties between Warwick and the king less 
 strong than a ship's cable. And if thou attachest thy- 
 
 * Amongst many instances of the self-seeking of the time, 
 not the least striking is the subservience of John Mowbray, 
 the great Duke of Norfolk, to his old political enemy, the Earl 
 of Oxford, the moment the last comes into power, during the 
 brief restoration of Henry VI. John Paston, whose family 
 had been sufficiently harassed by this great duke, says, with 
 some glee, " The Duke and Duchess (of Norfolk) sue to him 
 (Lord Oxford) as humbly as ever I did to them." Paston 
 Letters, eccii.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 43 
 
 self to Warwick, he will be better pleased, it may 
 be, with talk of devotion to himself than professions of 
 exclusive loyalty to King Edward. He who has little 
 silver in his pouch must have the more silk on his 
 tongue. A word to a Westmoreland or a Yorkshire- 
 man is as good as a sermon to men not born so far 
 north. One word more, and I have done. Thou art 
 kind, and affable, and gentle, my dear foster-brother, 
 but it will not do for thee to be seen again with the 
 goldsmith's headman. If thou wantest me, send for 
 me at nightfall ; I shall be found at Master Heyford's, 
 in the Chepe. And if," added Nicholas with a prudent 
 reminiscence, " thou succeedest at court, and canst 
 recommend my master there is no better goldsmith 
 it may serve me when I set up for myself, which I 
 look to do shortly." 
 
 " But, to send for thee, my own foster-brother, at 
 nightfall, as if I were ashamed ! " 
 
 " Hout, Master Marmaduke, if thou were not 
 ashamed of me, I should be ashamed to be seen with 
 a gay springal like thee. Why, they would say in the 
 Chepe that Nick Alwyn was going to ruin. No, no. 
 Birds of a feather must keep shy of those that moult 
 other colours ; and so, my dear young master, this 
 is my last shake of the hand. But hold. Dost thou 
 know thy way back ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes never fear ! " answered Marmaduke ; 
 " though I see not why so far, at least, we may not 
 be companions." 
 
 " No, better as it is ; after this day's work they will 
 gossip about both of us, and we shall meet many who 
 know my long visage on the way back. God keep 
 thee ; avise me how thou prosperest." 
 
 So saying, Nicholas Alwyn walked off, too delicate
 
 44 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 to propose to pay his share of the reckoning with a 
 superior. But when he had gone a few paces he 
 turned back, and accosting the Nevile, as the latter 
 was rebuckling his mantle, said 
 
 " I have been thinking, Master Nevile, that these 
 
 gold nobles, which it has been my luck to bear off, 
 
 : would be more useful in thy gipsire than mine. I 
 
 have sure gains and small expenses but a gentleman 
 
 gains nothing, and his hand must be ever in his pouch 
 
 " Foster-brother ! " said Marmaduke, haughtily, " a 
 gentleman never borrows except of the Jews, and 
 with due interest. Moreover, I too have my calling; 
 and as thy stall to thee, so to me my good sword. 
 Saints keep thee ! Be sure I will serve thee when 
 I can." 
 
 " The devil's in these young strips of the herald's 
 tree," muttered Alwyn, as he strode off; "as if it 
 were dishonest to borrow a broad piece without cut- 
 ting a throat for it ! Howbeit, money is a prolific 
 mother: and here is eno' to buy me a gold chain 
 against I am alderman of London. Hout, thus goes 
 the world the knight's baubles become the alder- 
 man's badges so much the better." 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 ILL FARES THE COUNTRY MOUSE IN THE TRAPS OF TOWN 
 
 We trust we shall not be deemed discourteous, 
 either, on the one hand, to those who value themselves 
 on their powers of reflection, or, on the other, to those 
 who lay claim to what, in modern phrenological jar- 
 gon, is called the Organ of Locality, when we venture
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 45 
 
 to surmise that the two are rarely found in combina- 
 tion; nay, that it seems to us a very evident truism, 
 that in proportion to the general activity of the intel- 
 lect upon subjects of pith and weight, the mind will be 
 indifferent to those minute external objects by which 
 a less contemplative understanding will note, and 
 map out, and impress upon the memory, the chart of 
 the road its owner has once taken. Master Marma- 
 duke Nevile, a hardy and acute forester from child- 
 hood, possessed to perfection the useful faculty of 
 looking well and closely before him as he walked the 
 earth, and ordinarily, therefore, the path he had once 
 taken, however intricate and obscure, he was tolerably 
 sure to retrace with accuracy, even at no inconsidera- 
 ble distance of time the outward senses of men are 
 usually thus alert and attentive in the savage or the 
 semi-civilised state. He had not, therefore, over- 
 valued his general acuteness in the note and memory 
 of localities, when he boasted of his power to refind his 
 way to his hostelrie without the guidance of Alwyn. 
 But it so happened that the events of this day, so mem- 
 orable to him, withdrew his attention from external 
 objects, to concentrate it within. And in marvelling 
 and musing over the new course upon which his des- 
 tiny had entered, he forgot to take heed of that which 
 his feet should pursue; so that, after wandering uncon- 
 sciously onward for some time, he suddenly halted in 
 perplexity and amaze to find himself entangled in a 
 labyrinth of scattered suburbs, presenting features 
 wholly different from the road that had conducted him 
 to the archery-ground in the forenoon. The darkness 
 of the night had, set in, but it was relieved by a some- 
 what faint and mist-clad moon, and some few and scat- 
 tered stars, over which rolled, fleetly, thick clouds, por-
 
 46 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 tending rain. No lamps at that time cheered the steps 
 of the belated wanderer; the houses were shut up, 
 and their inmates, for the most part, already retired 
 to rest, and the suburbs did not rejoice, as the city, in 
 the round of the watchman with his drowsy call to the 
 inhabitants, "Hang out your lights!" The passen- 
 gers, who at first, in various small groups and parties, 
 had enlivened the stranger's way, seemed to him, un- 
 conscious as he was of the lapse of time, to have sud- 
 denly vanished from the thoroughfares ; and he found 
 himself alone in places thoroughly unknown to him, 
 waking to the displeasing recollection that the ap- 
 proaches to the city were said to be beset by brawlers 
 and ruffians of desperate character, whom the cessa- 
 tion of the civil wars had flung loose upon the skirts 
 of society, to maintain themselves by deeds of rapine 
 and plunder. As might naturally be expected, most 
 of these had belonged to the defeated party, who had 
 no claim to the good offices or charity of those in 
 power. And although some of the Neviles had sided 
 with the Lancastrians, yet the badge worn by Marma- 
 duke was considered a pledge of devotion to the reign- 
 ing house, and added a new danger to those which be- 
 set his path. Conscious of this for he now called to 
 mind the admonitions of his host in parting from the 
 hostelrie he deemed it but discreet to draw the hood 
 of his mantle over the silver ornament; and while thus 
 occupied, he heard not a step emerging from a lane 
 at his rear, when suddenly a heavy hand was placed on 
 his shoulder: he started, turned, and before him stood 
 a man, whose aspect and dress betokened little to 
 lessen the alarm of the uncourteous salutation. Mar- 
 maduke's dagger was bare on the instant. 
 
 "And what woulclst thou with me?" he asked.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 47 
 
 "Thy purse and thy dagger!" answered the 
 stranger. 
 
 " Come and take them," said the Nevile, uncon- 
 scious that he uttered a reply famous in classic history, 
 as he sprang backward a step or so, and threw himself 
 into an attitude of defence. The stranger slowly 
 raised a rude kind of mace, or rather club, with a ball 
 of iron at the end, garnished with long spikes, as he 
 replied, " Art thou mad eno' to fight for such trifles? " 
 
 " Art thou in the habit of meeting one Englishman 
 who yields his goods, without a blow, to another?" 
 retorted Marmaduke. " Go to thy club does not 
 daunt me." The stranger warily drew back a step, 
 and applied a whistle to his mouth. The Nevie 
 sprang at him, but the stranger warded off the thrust 
 of the poniard with a light flourish of his heavy 
 weapon; and had not the youth drawn back on the in- 
 stant, it had been good night and a long day to Mar- 
 maduke Nevile. Even as it was, his heart beat quick, 
 as the whirl of the huge weapon sent the air like a 
 strong wind against his face. Ere he had time to re^ 
 new his attack, he was suddenly seized from behind, 
 and found himself struggling in the arms of two men. 
 From these he broke, and his dagger glanced harm- 
 less against the tough jerkin of his first assailant. The 
 next moment his right arm fell to his side, useless and 
 deeply gashed. A heavy blow on the head, the 
 moon, the stars reeled in his eyes and then dark- 
 ness; he knew no more. His assailants very delib- 
 erately proceeded to rifle the inanimate body, when 
 one of them, perceiving the silver badge, exclaimed, 
 with an oath, "One of the rampant Neviles! This 
 cock at least shall crow no more." And laying the 
 young man's head across his lap, while he stretched
 
 48 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 back the throat with one hand, with the other he drew 
 forth a long sharp knife, like those used by hunts- 
 men in despatching the hart. Suddenly, and in the 
 very moment when the blade was about to inflict the 
 fatal gash, his hand was forcibly arrested, and a man, 
 who had silently and unnoticed joined the ruffians, 
 said in a stern whisper, " Rise and depart from thy 
 brotherhood for ever. We admit no murderer." 
 
 The ruffian looked up in bewilderment. " Robin 
 captain thou here ! " he said falteringly. 
 
 " I must needs be everywhere, I see, if I would keep 
 such fellows as thou and these from the gallows. 
 What is this? a silver arrow the young archer 
 Urn." 
 
 "A Nevile! " growled the would-be murderer. 
 
 " And for that very reason his life should be safe. 
 Knowest thou not that Richard of Warwick, the great 
 Nevile, ever spares the commons. Begone! I say." 
 The captain's low voice grew terrible as he uttered the 
 last words. The savage rose, and without a word 
 stalked away. 
 
 " Look you, my masters," said Robin, turning to 
 the rest, " soldiers must plunder a hostile country. 
 While York is on the throne, England is a hostile 
 country to us Lancastrians. Rob, then, rifle, if ye 
 will. But he who takes life shall lose it. Ye know 
 me!" The robbers looked down, silent and abashed. 
 Robin bent a moment over the youth. " He will live," 
 he muttered. "So! he already begins to awaken. 
 One of these houses will give him shelter. Off, fel- 
 lows, and take care of your necks! " 
 
 When Marmaduke, a few minutes after this collo- 
 quy, began to revive, it was with a sensation of dizzi- 
 ness, pain, and extreme cold. He strove to lift him-
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 49 
 
 self from the ground, and at length succeeded. He 
 was alone: the place where he had lain was damp and 
 red with stiffening blood. He tottered on for several 
 paces, and perceived from a lattice, at a little distance, 
 a light still burning. Now reeling now falling, he 
 still dragged on his limbs as the instinct attracted him 
 to that sign of refuge. He gained the doorway of a 
 detached and gloomy house, and sank on the stone 
 before it to cry aloud. But his voice soon sank into 
 deep groans, and once more, as his efforts increased 
 the rapid gush of the blood, became insensible. The 
 man styled Robin, who had so opportunely saved his 
 life, now approached from the shadow of a wall, be- 
 neath which he had watched Marmaduke's move- 
 ments. He neared the door of the house, and cried, 
 in a sharp, clear voice " Open, for the love of 
 Christ!" 
 
 A head was now thrust from the lattice the light 
 vanished a minute more, the door opened; and 
 Robin, as if satisfied, drew hastily back, and vanished 
 saying to himself, as he strode along, " A young man's 
 life must needs be dear to him; yet, had the lad been 
 a lord, methinks I should have cared little to have 
 saved for the people one tyrant more." 
 
 After a long interval, Marmaduke again recovered, 
 and his eyes turned with pain from the glare of a light 
 held to his face. 
 
 "He wakes, father! he will live!" cried a sweet 
 voice. 
 
 "Ay, he will live, child!" answered a deeper tone; 
 and the young man muttered to himself, half audibly, 
 as in a dream, "Holy Mother be blessed! it is sweet 
 to live." 
 
 The room in which the sufferer lay rather exhibited 
 VOL. I. 4
 
 50 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 the remains of better fortunes than testified to the 
 solid means of the present possessor. The ceiling was 
 high and groined, and some tints of faded but once 
 gaudy painting blazoned its compartments and hang- 
 ing pendants. The walls had been rudely painted (for 
 arras* then was rare, even among the wealthiest), but 
 the colours were half obliterated by time and damp. 
 The bedstead on which the wounded man reclined was 
 curiously carved, with a figure of the Virgin at the 
 head, and adorned with draperies, in which were 
 wrought huge figures from scriptural subjects, but in 
 the dress of the date of Richard II. Solomon in point- 
 ed upturned shoes, and Goliath, in the armour of a 
 crusader, frowning grimly upon the sufferer. By the 
 bedside stood a personage, who, in reality, was but lit- 
 tle past the middle age, but whose pale visage, inter- 
 sected with deep furrows, whose long beard and hair, 
 partially grey, gave him the appearance of advanced 
 age: nevertheless there was something peculiarly strik- 
 ing in the aspect of the man. His forehead was singu- 
 larly high and massive, but the back of the head was 
 disproportionately small, as if the intellect too much 
 preponderated over all the animal qualities for strength 
 
 * Mr. Hallam (History of the Middle Ages, chap. ix. part 2) 
 implies a doubt whether great houses were furnished with 
 hangings so soon as the reign of Edward IV. But there is 
 abundant evidence to satisfy our learned historian upon that 
 head. The Narrative of the " Lord of Grauthuse," edited by 
 Sir F. Madden, specifies the hangings of cloth of gold in the 
 apartments in which that lord was received by Edward IV. ; 
 also the hangings of white silk and linen in the chamber appro- 
 priated to himself at Windsor. But long before this period 
 (to say nothing of the Bayeux Tapestry) viz., in the reign 
 of Edward III. (in 1344), a writ was issued to inquire into 
 the mystery of working tapestry ; and in 1398, Mr. Britton ob- 
 serves that the celebrated arras hangings at Warwick Castle 
 are mentioned. (See Britton's Dictionary of Architecture and 
 Archaeology art. Tapestry.)
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 51 
 
 in character and success in life. The eyes were soft, 
 dark, and brilliant, but dreamlike and vague; the feat- 
 ures in youth must have been regular and beautiful, 
 but their contour was now sharpened by the hollow- 
 ness of the cheeks and temples. The form, in the up- 
 per part, was nobly shaped, sufficiently muscular, it 
 not powerful, and with the long throat and falling 
 shoulders, which always gives something of grace and 
 dignity to the carriage; but it was prematurely bent, 
 and the lower limbs were thin and weak, as is common 
 with men who have sparely used them; they seemed 
 disproportioned to the broad chest, and still more to 
 that magnificent and spacious brow. The dress of this 
 personage corresponded with the aspect of his abode. 
 The materials were those worn by the gentry, but they 
 were old, threadbare, and discoloured with innumera- 
 ble spots and stains. His hands were small and deli- 
 cate, with large blue veins, that spoke of relaxed fibres; 
 but their natural whiteness was smudged with smoke- 
 stains, and his beard a masculine ornament utterly 
 out of fashion among the younger race in King Ed- 
 ward's reign, but when worn by the elder gentry, care- 
 fully trimmed and perfumed was dishevelled into all 
 the spiral and tangled curls, displayed in the sculp- 
 tured head of some old Grecian sage or poet. 
 
 On the other side of the bed knelt a young girl of 
 about sixteen, with a face exquisitely lovely in its del- 
 icacy and expression. She seemed about the middle 
 stature, and her arms and neck, as displayed by the 
 close-fitting vest, had already the smooth and rounded 
 contour of dawning womanhood, while the face had 
 still the softness, innocence, and inexpressible bloom 
 of the child. There was a strong likeness between her 
 and her father (for such the relationship), despite the
 
 52 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 difference of sex and years the same beautiful form 
 of lip and brow the same rare colour of the eyes, 
 dark-blue, with black fringing lashes and perhaps the 
 common expression, at that moment, of gentle pity 
 and benevolent anxiety contributed to render the re- 
 semblance stronger. 
 
 " Father, he sinks again! " said the girl. 
 
 " Sibyll," answered the man, putting his finger upon 
 a line in a manuscript book that he held, " the author- 
 ity saith, that a patient so contused should lose blood, 
 and then the arm must be tightly bandaged. Verily 
 we lack the wherewithal." 
 
 " Not so, father ! " said the girl, and blushing, she 
 turned aside, and took off the partelet of lawn, upon 
 which holiday finery her young eyes perhaps that 
 morning had turned with pleasure, and white as snow 
 was the neck which was thus displayed " this will suf- 
 fice to bind his arm." 
 
 " But the book," said the father, in great perplexity 
 " the book telleth us not how the lancet should be 
 applied. It is easy to say, ' Do this and do that: ' but 
 to do it once, it should have been done before. This 
 is not among my experiments." 
 
 Luckily, perhaps, for Marmaduke, at this moment 
 there entered an old woman, the solitary servant of the 
 house, whose life, in those warlike times, had made her 
 pretty well acquainted with the simpler modes of deal- 
 ing with a wounded arm and a broken head. She 
 treated with great disdain the learned authority re- 
 ferred to by her master; she bound the arm, plastered 
 the head, and taking upon herself the responsibility 
 to promise a rapid cure, insisted upon the retirement 
 of father and child, and took her solitary watch beside 
 the bed.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 53 
 
 " If it had been any other mechanism than that of 
 the vile human body! " muttered the philosopher, as if 
 apologising to himself; and with that he recovered 
 his self-complacency and looked round him proudly. 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 WEAL TO THE IDLER WOE TO THE WORKMAN 
 
 As Providence tempers the wind to the shorn lamb, 
 so it possibly might conform the heads of that day to 
 a thickness suitable for the blows and knocks to which 
 they were variously subjected; yet it was not without 
 considerable effort, and much struggling, that Marma- 
 duke's senses recovered the shock received, less by his 
 flesh-wound and the loss of blood, than a blow on the 
 seat of reason, that might have despatched a passable 
 ox of these degenerate days. Nature, to say nothing 
 of Madge's leechcraft, ultimately triumphed, and Mar- 
 maduke woke one morning in full possession of such 
 understanding as Nature had endowed him with. He 
 was then alone, and it was with much simple surprise 
 that he turned his large hazel eyes from corner to cor- 
 ner of the unfamiliar room. He began to retrace and 
 weave together sundry disordered and vague reminis- 
 cences: he commenced with the commencement, and 
 clearly satisfied himself that he had been grievously 
 wounded and sorely bruised; he then recalled the soli- 
 tary light at the high lattice, and his memory found 
 itself at the porch of the large, lonely, ruinous old 
 house; then all became a bewildered and feverish 
 dream. He caught at the vision of an old man with 
 a long beard, whom he associated, displeasingly, with 
 recollections of pain; he glanced off to a fair young
 
 54 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 face, with eyes that looked tender pity whenever he 
 writhed or groaned under the tortures that, no doubt, 
 that old accursed carle had inflicted upon him. But 
 even this face did not dwell with pleasure in his mem- 
 ory it woke up confused and labouring associations 
 of something weird and witchlike of sorceresses and 
 tymbesteres of wild warnings screeched in his ear 
 of incantations and devilries, and doom. Impatient 
 of these musings, he sought to leap from his bed, and 
 was amazed that the leap subsided into a tottering 
 crawl. He found an ewer and basin, and his ablutions 
 refreshed and invigorated him. He searched for his 
 raiment, and discovered it all except the mantle, dag- 
 ger, hat, and girdle; and, while looking for these, his 
 eye fell on an old tarnished steel mirror. He started 
 as if he had seen his ghost; was it possible that his 
 hardy face could have waned into that pale and almost 
 femininely delicate visage? With the pride (call it 
 not coxcombry) that then made the care of person the 
 distinction of gentle birth, he strove to reduce into 
 order the tangled locks of the long hair, of which a 
 considerable portion above a part that seemed pecu- 
 liarly sensitive to the touch had been mercilessly 
 clipped: and as he had just completed this task, with 
 little satisfaction and much inward chafing at the lack 
 of all befitting essences and perfumes, the door gently 
 opened, and the fair face he had dreamed of appeared 
 at the aperture. 
 
 The girl uttered a cry of astonishment and alarm 
 at seeing the patient thus arrayed and convalescent, 
 and would suddenly have retreated, but the Nevile ad- 
 vanced, and courteously taking her hand 
 
 " Fair maiden," said he, " if, as I trow, I owe to thy 
 cares my tending and cure nay, it may be a life hith-
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 55 
 
 erto of little worth, save to myself do not fly from 
 my thanks. May our lady of Walsingham bless and 
 reward thee! " 
 
 " Sir," answered Sibyll, gently withdrawing her 
 hands from his clasp, " our poor cares have been a 
 slight return for thy generous protection to myself." 
 
 " To thee! ah, forgive me how could I be so dull? 
 I remember thy face now; and, perchance, I deserved 
 the disaster I met with in leaving thee so discourte- 
 ously. My heart smote me for it as thy light footfall 
 passed from my side." 
 
 A slight blush, succeeded by a thoughtful smile 
 the smile of one who recalls and caresses some not dis- 
 pleasing remembrance, passed over Sibyll's charming 
 countenance, as the sufferer said this with something 
 of the grace of a well-born man, whose boyhood had 
 been taught to serve God and the Ladies. 
 
 There was a short pause before she answered, look- 
 ing down, " Nay, sir, I was sufficiently beholden to 
 you; and for the rest, all molestation was over. But 
 I will now call your nurse for it is to our servant, not 
 us, that your thanks are due to see to your state, and 
 administer the proper medicaments." 
 
 " Truly, fair damsel, it is not precisely medicaments 
 that I hunger and thirst for; but if your hospitality 
 could spare me from the larder a manchet, or a corner 
 of a pasty, and from the cellar a stoup of wine or a 
 cup of ale, methinks it would tend more to restore me 
 than those potions which are so strange to my taste 
 that they rather offend than tempt it; and, pardie, it 
 seemeth to my poor senses as if I had not broken bread 
 for a week ! " 
 
 " I am glad to hear you of such good cheer," an- 
 swered Sibyll; " wait but a moment or so, till I consult 
 your physician."
 
 56 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 And, so saying, she closed the door, slowly descend- 
 ed the steps, and pursued her way into what seemed 
 more like a vault than a habitable room, where she 
 found the single servant of the household. Time, 
 which makes changes so fantastic in the dress of the 
 better classes, has a greater respect for the costume 
 of the humbler; and, though the garments were of a 
 very coarse sort of serge, there was not so great a dif- 
 ference, in point of comfort and sufficiency, as might 
 be supposed, between the dress of old Madge and that 
 of some primitive servant in the north during the last 
 century. The old woman's face was thin and pinched, 
 but its sharp expression brightened into a smile as she 
 caught sight, through the damps and darkness, of the 
 gracious form of her young mistress. " Ah, Madge," 
 said Sibyll, with a sigh, " it is a sad thing to be poor! " 
 
 " For such as thou, Mistress Sibyll, it is indeed. It 
 does not matter for the like of us. But it goes to my 
 old heart when I see you shut up here, or worse, going 
 out in that old courtpie and wimple you, a knight's 
 grandchild you, who have played round a queen's 
 knees, and who might have been so well-to-do, an' my 
 master had thought a little more of the gear of this 
 world. But patience is a good palfrey, and will carry 
 us a long day. And when the master has done what 
 he looks for, why the king sith we must so call the 
 new man on the throne will be sure to reward him; 
 but, sweetheart, tarry not here; it's an ill air for your 
 young lips to drink in. What brings you to old 
 Madge?" 
 
 " The stranger is recovered, and 
 
 " Ay, I warrant me, I have cured worse than he. 
 He must have a spoonful of broth I have not forgot 
 it. You see I wanted no dinner myself what is din-
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 57 
 
 tier to old folks ! so I e'en put it all in the pot for him. 
 The broth will be brave and strong." 
 
 " My poor Madge, God requite you for what you 
 suffer for us! But he has asked" here was another 
 sigh and a downcast look that did not dare to face the 
 consternation of Madge, as she repeated, with a half- 
 sniile " he has asked for meat, and a stoup of wine, 
 Madge!" 
 
 " Eh, sirs! And where is he to get them? Not 
 that it will be bad for the lad, either. Wine! There's 
 Master Sancroft, of the Oak, will not trust us a penny, 
 the seely hilding, and " 
 
 " Oh, Madge, I forgot! we can still sell the gittern 
 for something. Get on your wimple, Madge quick 
 while I go for it." 
 
 " Why, Mistress Sibyll, that's your only pleasure, 
 when you sit all alone, the long summer days." 
 
 " It will be more pleasure to remember that it sup- 
 plied the wants of my father's guest," said Sibyll; and 
 retracing the way up the stairs, she returned with the 
 broken instrument, and despatched Madge with it, 
 laden with instructions that the wine should be of the 
 best. She then once more mounted the rugged steps, 
 and halting a moment at Marmaduke's door, as she 
 heard his feeble step walking impatiently to and fro, 
 she ascended higher, where the flight, winding up a 
 square dilapidated turret, became rougher, narrower, 
 and darker, and opened the door of her father's re- 
 treat. 
 
 It was a room so bare of ornament and furniture 
 that it seemed merely wrought out of the mingled rub- 
 ble and rough stones which composed the walls of the 
 mansion, and was lighted towards the street by a nar- 
 row slit, glazed, it is true, which all the windows of
 
 58 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 the house were not, but the sun scarcely pierced the 
 dull panes and the deep walls in which they were sunk. 
 The room contained a strong furnace and a rude lab- 
 oratory. There were several strange-looking mechan- 
 ical contrivances scattered about, several manuscripts 
 upon some oaken shelves, and a large pannier of wood 
 and charcoal in the corner. In that poverty-stricken 
 house, the money spent on fuel alone, in the height 
 of summer, would have comfortably maintained the in- 
 mates; but neither Sibyll nor Madge ever thought to 
 murmur at this waste, dedicated to what had become 
 the vital want of a man who drew air in a world of his 
 own. This was the first thing to be provided for; and 
 Science was of more imperative necessity than even 
 Hunger. 
 
 Adam Warner was indeed a creature of remarkable 
 genius and genius, in an age where it is not appreci- 
 ated, is the greatest curse the iron Fates can inflict on 
 man. If not wholly without the fond fancies which 
 led the wisdom of the darker ages to the philosopher's 
 stone and the elixir, he had been deterred from the 
 chase of a chimera by want of means to pursue it; for 
 it required the resources or the patronage of a prince 
 or noble to obtain the costly ingredients consumed in 
 the alchemist's crucible. In early ,life, therefore, and 
 while yet in possession of a competence, derived from 
 a line of distinguished and knightly ancestors, Adam 
 Warner had devoted himself to the surer, and less 
 costly, study of the mathematics, which then had be- 
 gun to attract the attention of the learned, but which 
 was still looked upon by the vulgar as a branch of 
 the black art. This pursuit had opened to him the in- 
 sight into discoveries equally useful and sublime. 
 They necessitated a still more various knowledge; and
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 5$ 
 
 in an age when there was no division of labour, and 
 rare and precarious communication among students, 
 it became necessary for each discoverer to acquire suf- 
 ficient science for his own collateral experiments. 
 
 In applying mathematics to the practical purposes 
 of life, in recognising its mighty utilities to commerce 
 and civilisation, Adam Warner was driven to conjoin 
 with it, not only an extensive knowledge of languages, 
 but many of the rudest tasks of the mechanist's art; 
 and chemistry was, in some of his researches, sum- 
 moned to his aid. By degrees, the tyranny that a 
 man's genius exercises over his life, abstracted him 
 from all external objects. He had loved his wife ten- 
 derly, but his rapid waste of his fortune in the pur- 
 chase of instruments and books, then enormously dear, 
 and the neglect of all things not centred in the hope 
 to be the benefactor of the world, had ruined her health 
 and broken her heart. Happily Warner perceived not 
 her decay till just before her death; happily he never 
 conceived its cause; for her soul was wrapt in his. She 
 revered, and loved, and never' upbraided him. Her 
 heart was the martyr to his mind. Had she foreseen 
 the future destinies of her daughter, it might have been 
 otherwise. She could have remonstrated with the 
 father, though not with the husband. But, fortunate- 
 ly, as it seemed to her, she (a Frenchwoman by birth) 
 had passed her youth in the service of Margaret of 
 Anjou, and that haughty queen, who was equally 
 warm to friends and inexorable to enemies, had, on 
 her attendant's marriage, promised to ensure the for- 
 tunes of her offspring. Sibyll, at the age of nine, 
 between seven and eight years before the date the 
 story enters on, and two years prior to the fatal field 
 of Towton, which gave to Edward the throne of Eng-
 
 60 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 land, had been admitted among the young girls whom 
 the custom of the day ranked amidst the attendants of 
 the queen ; and in the interval that elapsed before Mar- 
 garet was obliged to dismiss her to her home, her 
 mother died. She died without foreseeing the reverses 
 that were to ensue, in the hope that her child, at least, 
 was nobly provided for, and not without the belief (for 
 there is so much faith in love!) that her husband's re- 
 searches, which, in his youth had won favour of the 
 Protector duke of Gloucester, the most enlightened 
 prince of his time, would be crowned at last with the 
 rewards and favours of his king. That precise period 
 was, indeed, the fairest that had yet dawned upon the 
 philosopher. Henry VI., slowly recovering from one 
 of those attacks which passed for imbecility, had con- 
 descended to amuse himself with various conversations 
 with Warner, urged to it first by representations of the 
 unholy nature of the student's pursuits; and, having 
 satisfied his mind of his learned subject's orthodoxy, 
 the poor monarch had taken a sort of interest, not so 
 much, perhaps, in the objects of Warner's occupations, 
 as in that complete absorption from actual life which 
 characterised the subject, and gave him in this a mel- 
 ancholy resemblance to the king. While the House of 
 Lancaster was on the throne, the wife felt that her 
 husband's pursuits would be respected, and his harm- 
 less life safe from the fierce prejudices of the people; 
 and the good queen would not suffer him to starve, 
 when the last mark was expended in devices how to 
 benefit his country: and in these hopes the woman 
 died! 
 
 A year afterwards, all at court was in disorder 
 armed men supplied the service of young girls, and 
 Sibyll, with a purse of broad pieces, soon converted
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 61 
 
 into manuscripts, was sent back to her father's deso- 
 late home. There had she grown a flower amidst 
 ruins with no companion of her own age, and left 
 to bear, as her sweet and affectionate nature well did, 
 the contrast between the luxuries of a court and the 
 penury of a hearth which, year after year, hunger and 
 want came more and more sensibly to invade. 
 
 Sibyll had been taught, even as a child, some accom- 
 plishments little vouchsafed, then, to either sex she 
 could read and write ; and Margaret had not so wholly 
 lost, in the sterner north, all reminiscence of the ac- 
 complishments that graced her father's court, as to 
 neglect the education of those brought up in her 
 household. Much attention was given to music, for 
 it soothed the dark hours of King Henry; the blazon- 
 ing of missals or the lives of saints, with the labours 
 of the loom, were also among the resources of Sibyll's 
 girlhood, and by these last she had, from time to time, 
 served to assist the maintenance of the little family of 
 which, child though she was, she became the actual 
 head. But latterly that is, for the last few weeks, 
 even these sources failed her; for as more peaceful 
 times allowed her neighbours to interest themselves 
 in the affairs of others, the dark reports against War- 
 ner had revived. His name became a by-word of hor- 
 ror the lonely light at the lattice burning till mid- 
 night against all the early usages and habits of the 
 day the dark smoke of the furnace, constant in sum- 
 mer as in winter, scandalised the religion of the place 
 far and near; and finding, to their great dissatisfaction, 
 that the king's government and the Church interfered 
 not for their protection, and unable themselves to vol- 
 unteer any charges against the recluse (for the cows 
 in the neighbourhood remained provokingly healthy),
 
 62 
 
 they came suddenly, and, as it were by one of those 
 common sympathies which in all times the huge per- 
 secutor we call the PUBLIC manifests, when a victim 
 is to be crushed, to the pious resolution of starving 
 where they could not burn. Why buy the quaint 
 devilries of the wizard's daughter? no luck could 
 come of it. A missal blazoned by such hands an em- 
 broidery worked at such a loom, was like the Lord's 
 Prayer read backwards. And one morning, when 
 poor Sibyll stole out as usual to vend a month's 
 labour, she was driven from door to door with oaths 
 and curses. 
 
 Though Sibyll's heart was gentle, she was not with- 
 out a certain strength of mind. She had much of the 
 patient devotion of her mother, much of the quiet for- 
 titude of her father's nature. If not comprehending to 
 the full the loftiness of Warner's pursuits, she still an- 
 ticipated from them an ultimate success which recon- 
 ciled her to all temporary sacrifices. The violent prej- 
 udices the ignorant cruelty, thus brought to bear 
 against existence itself, filled her with sadness, it is 
 true, but not unmixed with that contempt for her per- 
 secutors, which, even in the meekest tempers, takes 
 the sting from despair. But hunger pressed. Her 
 father was nearing the goal of his discoveries, and in 
 a moment of that pride which in its very contempt 
 for appearances braves them all, Sibyll had stolen out 
 to the pastime-ground, with what result has been 
 seen already. Having thus accounted for the penury 
 of the mansion, we return to its owner. 
 
 Warner was contemplating with evident compla- 
 cency and delight the model of a machine which had 
 occupied him for many years, and which he imagined 
 he was now rapidly bringing to perfection. His hands
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 63 
 
 and face were grimed with the smoke of his forge, and 
 his hair and beard, neglected as usual, looked parched 
 and dried up, as if with the constant fever that burned 
 within. 
 
 " Yes yes," he muttered " how they will bless me 
 for this! What Roger Bacon only suggested I shall 
 accomplish! How it will change the face of the 
 globe! What wealth it will bestow on ages yet un- 
 born!" 
 
 " My father," said the gentle voice of Sibyll " my 
 poor father, thou hast not tasted bread to-day." 
 
 Warner turned, and his face relaxed into a tender 
 expression as he saw his daughter. 
 
 " My child," he said, pointing to his model, " the 
 time comes when it will live! Patience patience! " 
 
 " And who would not have patience with thee, and 
 for thee, father?" said Sibyll, with enthusiasm speak- 
 ing on every feature. " What is the valour of knight 
 and soldier dull statues of steel to thine? Thou, 
 with thy naked breast, confronting all dangers 
 sharper than the lance and glaive, and all " 
 
 " All to make England great! " 
 
 " Alas ! what hath England merited from men like 
 thee! The people more savage than their rulers, 
 clamour for the stake, the gibbet, and the dungeon, for 
 all who strive to make them wiser. Remember the 
 death of Bolingbroke;* a wizard, because, O father! 
 because his pursuits were thine! " 
 
 Adam, startled by this burst, looked at his daughter 
 with more attention than he usually evinced to any liv- 
 ing thing: " Child," he said, at length, shaking his 
 
 * A mathematician accused as an accomplice, in sorcery, of 
 Eleanor Cobham, wife of Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, and 
 hanged upon that charge. His contemporary (William Wyr- 
 cestre) highly extols his learning.
 
 64 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 head in grave reproof, " let me not say to thee, ' O 
 thou of little faith! ' There were no heroes were there 
 no martyrs ! " 
 
 " Do not frown on me, father," said Sibyll, sadly; 
 " let the world frown not thou! Yes, thou art right. 
 Thou must triumph at last." And suddenly her whole 
 countenance, changing into a soft and caressing en- 
 dearment, she added " But now come, father. Thou 
 hast laboured well for this morning. We shall have 
 a little feast for thee in a few minutes. And the 
 stranger is recovered, thanks to our leechcraft. He is 
 impatient to see and thank thee." 
 
 " Well well, I come, Sibyll," said the student, with 
 a regretful, lingering look at his model, and a sigh to 
 be disturbed from its contemplation; and he slowly 
 quitted the room with Sibyll. 
 
 " But not, dear sir and father, not thus not quite 
 thus will you go to the stranger, well-born like your- 
 self. Oh, no! your Sibyll is proud, you know proud 
 of her father." So saying, she clung to him fondly, 
 and drew him mechanically, for he had sunk into a 
 reverie, and heeded her not, into an adjoining cham- 
 ber in which he slept. The comforts even of the gen- 
 try, of men with the acres that Adam had sold, were 
 then few and scanty. The nobles and the wealthy 
 merchants, indeed, boasted many luxuries that ex- 
 celled in gaud and pomp those of their equals now. 
 But the class of the gentry who had very little money 
 at command, were contented with hardships from 
 which a menial of this day would revolt. What they 
 could spend in luxury was usually consumed in dress 
 and the table they were obliged to keep. These were 
 the essentials of dignity. Of furniture there was a woe- 
 ful stint. In many houses, even of knights, an edifice
 
 My poor father, thou hast not tasted bread to-day."
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 65 
 
 large enough to occupy a quadrangle, was composed 
 more of offices than chambers inhabited by the owners ; 
 rarely boasting more than three beds, which were be- 
 queathed in wills as articles of great value. The reader 
 must, therefore, not be surprised that Warner's abode 
 contained but one bed, properly so called, and that 
 was now devoted to Nevile. The couch which served 
 the philosopher for bed was a wretched pallet, 
 stretched on the floor, stuffed with straw, with rough 
 say or serge, and an old cloak for the coverings. His 
 daughter's, in a room below, was little better. The 
 walls were bare; the whole house boasted but one 
 chair, which was in Marmaduke's chamber stools, or 
 settles, of rude oak, elsewhere supplied their place. 
 There was no chimney, except in Nevile's room, and 
 in that appropriated to the forge. 
 
 To this chamber, then, resembling a dungeon in ap- 
 pearance, Sibyll drew the student, and here, from an 
 old worm-eaten chest, she carefully extracted a gown 
 of brown velvet, which his father, Sir Armine, had be- 
 queathed to him by will, faded, it is true, but still such 
 as the low-born wore not,* trimmed with fur, and 
 clasped with a brooch of gold. And then she held the 
 ewer and basin to him, while, with the docility of a 
 child, he washed the smoke-soil from his hands and 
 face. It was touching to see in this, as in all else, the 
 reverse of their natural position the child tending and 
 heeding, and protecting, as it were, the father; and 
 that not from his deficiency, but his greatness; not be- 
 cause he was below the vulgar intelligences of life, 
 but above them. And certainly, when, his patriarchal 
 hair and beard smoothed into order, and his velvet 
 
 * By the sumptuary laws only a knight was entitled to wear 
 velvet. 
 
 VOL. I. 5
 
 66 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 gown flowing in majestic folds around a figure tall and 
 commanding, Sibyll followed her father into Marma- 
 duke's chamber, she might well have been proud of 
 his appearance. And she felt the innocent vanity of 
 her sex and age, in noticing the half-start of surprise 
 with which Marmaduke regarded his host, and the 
 tone of respect in which he proffered him his saluta- 
 tions and thanks. Even his manner altered to Sibyll; 
 it grew less frank and affable, more courtly and re- 
 served: and when Madge came to announce that the 
 refection was served, it was with a blush of shame, 
 perhaps, at his treatment of the poor gittern-player on 
 the pastime-ground, that the Nevile extended his left 
 hand, for his right was still not at his command, to 
 lead the damsel to the hall. 
 
 This room, which was divided from the entrance by 
 a screen, and, except a small closet that adjoined it, 
 was the only sitting-room in a day, when, as now on 
 the Continent, no shame was attached to receiving 
 visitors in sleeping apartments, was long and low; an 
 old, and very narrow table, that might have feasted 
 thirty persons, stretched across a dais raised upon a 
 stone floor; there was no rere-dosse, or fire-place, 
 which does not seem at that day to have been an ab- 
 solute necessity in the houses of the metropolis and 
 its suburbs; its place being supplied by a movable 
 brazier. Three oak stools were placed in state at the 
 board, and to one of these Marmaduke, in a silence 
 unusual to him, conducted the fair Sibyll. 
 
 " You will forgive our lack of provisions," said 
 Warner, relapsing into the courteous fashions of his 
 elder days, which the unwonted spectacle of a cold 
 capon, a pasty, and a flask of wine, brought to his mind 
 by a train of ideas that actively glided by the interven-
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 67 
 
 ing circumstances which ought to have filled him with 
 astonishment at the sight, " for my Sibyll is but a 
 young housewife, and I am a simple scholar, of few 
 wants." 
 
 " Verily," answered Marmaduke, finding his tongue 
 as he attacked the pasty, " I see nothing that the most 
 dainty need complain of; fair Mistress Sibyll, your 
 dainty lips will not, I trow, refuse me the waisall.* 
 To you also, worshipful sir! Gramercy! it seems that 
 there is nothing which better stirs a man's appetite 
 than a sick bed. And, speaking thereof, deign to in- 
 form me, kind sir, how long I have been indebted to 
 your hospitality. Of a surety, this pasty hath an ex- 
 cellent flavour, and if not venison, is something better. 
 But to return, it mazes me much to think what time 
 hath passed since my encounter with the robbers." 
 
 " They were robbers, then, who so cruelly assailed 
 thee?" observed Sibyll. 
 
 " Have I not said so surely, who else? and, as I 
 was remarking to your worshipful father, whether this 
 mischance happened hours, days, months, or years 
 ago, beshrew me if I can venture the smallest guess." 
 
 Master Warner smiled, and observing that some re- 
 ply was expected from him, said, " Why, indeed, young 
 sir, I fear I am almost as oblivious as yourself. It was 
 not yesterday that you arrived, nor the day before, 
 nor Sibyll, my child, how long is it since this gentle- 
 man hath been our guest? " 
 
 " This is the fifth day," answered Sibyll. 
 
 " So long! and I like a senseless log by the wayside, 
 when others are pushing on bit and spur, to the great 
 road. I pray you, sir, tell me the news of the morn- 
 
 * i.e., Waissail or wassal ; the spelling of the time is adopted 
 in the text.
 
 68 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 ing. The Lord Warwick is still in London the court 
 still at the Tower? " f 
 
 Poor Adam, whose heart was with his model, and 
 who had now satisfied his temperate wants, looked 
 somewhat bewildered and perplexed by this question: 
 " The king, save his honoured head," said he, inclining 
 his own, " is, I fear me, always at the Tower since his 
 unhappy detention, but he minds it not, sir he heeds 
 it not; his soul is not on this side Paradise." 
 
 Sibyll uttered a faint exclamation of fear at this dan- 
 gerous indiscretion of her father's absence of mind: 
 and drawing closer to Nevile, she put her hand with 
 touching confidence on his arm, and whispered 
 " You will not repeat this, sir! my father lives only in 
 his studies, and he has never known but one king! " 
 
 Marmaduke turned his bold face to the maid, and 
 pointed to the salt-cellar, as he answered in the same 
 tone " Does the brave man betray his host? " 
 
 There was a moment's silence. Marmaduke rose. 
 " I fear," said he, " that I must now leave you ; and, 
 while it is yet broad noon, I must indeed be blind if 
 I again miss my way." 
 
 This speech suddenly recalled Adam from his med- 
 itations, for whenever his kindly and simple benevo- 
 lence was touched, even his mathematics and his 
 model were forgotten. " No, young sir," said he, ' 
 " you must not quit us yet; your danger is not over. 
 Exercise may bring fever. Celsus recommends quiet. 
 You must consent to tarry with us a day or two more." 
 
 " Can you tell me," said the Nevile, hesitatingly, 
 " what distance it is to the Temple-gate, or the nearest 
 wharf on the river? " 
 
 " Two miles, at the least," answered Sibyll. 
 
 "Two miles! and now I mind me, I have not the
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 69 
 
 accoutrements that beseem me. Those hildings have 
 stolen my mantle (which, I perceive, by the way, is but 
 a rustic garment, now laid aside for the super-tunic), 
 and my hat and dague, nor have they left even a half 
 groat to supply their place. Verily, therefore, since 
 ye permit me to burden your hospitality longer, I will 
 not say ye nay, provided you, worshipful sir, will suffer 
 one of your people to step to the house of one Master 
 Heyford, goldsmith, in the Chepe, and crave one Nich- 
 olas Alwyn, his freedman, to visit me. I can commis- 
 sion him touching my goods left at mine hostelrie, and 
 learn some other things which it behoves me to know." 
 
 " Assuredly. Sibyll, tell Simon or Jonas to put him- 
 self under our guest's order." 
 
 Simon or Jonas ! The poor Adam absolutely forgot 
 that Simon and Jonas had quitted the house these six 
 years! How could he look on the capon, the wine, 
 and the velvet gown trimmed with fur, and not fancy 
 himself back in the heyday of his wealth? 
 
 Sibyll half smiled and half sighed, as she withdrew 
 to consult with her sole counsellor, Madge, how the 
 guest's orders were to be obeyed, and how, alas ! the 
 board was to be replenished for the evening meal. 
 But in both these troubles she was more fortunate 
 than she anticipated. Madge had sold the broken 
 gittern, for musical instruments were then, compara- 
 tively speaking, dear (and this had been a queen's 
 gift), for sufficient to provide decently for some days, 
 and, elated herself with the prospect of so much good 
 cheer, she readily consented to be the messenger to 
 Nicholas Alwyn. 
 
 When with a light step, and a lighter heart, Sibyll 
 tripped back to the hall, she was scarcely surprised to 
 find the guest alone. Her father, after her departure,
 
 70 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 had begun to evince much restless perturbation. He 
 answered Marmaduke's queries but by abstracted and 
 desultory monosyllables, and seeing his guest at length 
 engaged in contemplating some old pieces of armour 
 hung upon the walls, he stole stealthily and furtively 
 away, and halted not till once more before his beloved 
 model. 
 
 Unaware of his departure, Marmaduke, whose back 
 was turned to him, was, as he fondly imagined, en- 
 lightening his host with much soldier-like learning as 
 to the old helmets and weapons that graced the hall. 
 " Certes, my host," said he, musingly, " that sort of 
 casque, which has not, I opine, been worn this cen- 
 tury, had its merits; the vizor is less open to the ar- 
 rows. But, as for these chain suits, they suited only 
 I venture, with due deference, to declare the Wars 
 of the Crusades, where the enemy fought chiefly with 
 dart and scymetar. They would be but a sorry de- 
 fence against the mace and battle-axe; nevertheless, 
 they were light for man and horse, and in some service, 
 especially against foot, might be revived with advan- 
 tage. Think you not so? " 
 
 He turned, and saw the arch face of Sibyll. 
 
 " I crave pardon for my blindness, gentle damsel," 
 said he, in some confusion, " but your father was here 
 anon." 
 
 " His mornings are so devoted to labour," answered 
 Sibyll, " that he entreats you to pardon his discour- 
 tesy. Meanwhile, if you would wish to breathe the 
 air, we have a small garden in the rear; " and so say- 
 ing, she led the way into the small withdrawing-room, 
 or rather closet, which was her own favourite cham- 
 ber, and which communicated, by another door, with 
 a broad, neglected grass-plot, surrounded by high
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 71 
 
 walls, having a raised terrace in front, divided by a low 
 stone Gothic palisade from the green sward. 
 
 On the palisade sat droopingly, and half asleep, a 
 solitary peacock; but when Sibyll and the stranger 
 appeared at the door, he woke up suddenly, descended 
 from his height, and, with a vanity not wholly unlike 
 his young mistress's wish to make the best possible 
 display in the eyes of a guest spread his plumes 
 broadly in the sun. Sibyll threw him some bread, 
 which she had taken from the table for that purpose; 
 but the proud bird, however hungry, disdained to eat, 
 till he had thoroughly satisfied himself that his glories 
 had been sufficiently observed. 
 
 " Poor proud one," said Sibyll, half to herself, " thy 
 plumage lasts with thee through all changes." 
 
 "Like the name of a brave knight," said Marmj- 
 duke, who overheard her. 
 
 " Thou thinkest of the career of arms." 
 
 "Surely I am a Nevile! " 
 
 " Is there no fame to be won but that of a warrior? " 
 
 " Not that I weet of, or heed for, Mistress Sibyll." 
 
 " Thinkest thou it were nothing to be a minstrel, 
 who gave delight? a scholar, who dispelled dark- 
 ness? " 
 
 " For the scholar? certes, I respect holy Mother 
 Church, which they tell me alone produces that kind 
 of wonder with full safety to the soul, and that only 
 in the higher prelates and dignitaries. For the min- 
 strel, I love him I would fight for him I would give 
 him at need the last penny in my gipsire. But it is 
 better to do deeds than to sing them." 
 
 Sibyll smiled, and the smile perplexed and half dis- 
 pleased the young adventurer. But the fire of the 
 young man had its charm.
 
 72 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 By degrees, as they walked to and fro the neglected 
 terrace, their talk flowed free and familiar; for Marma- 
 duke, like most young men, full of himself, was joyous 
 with the happy egotism of a frank and careless nature. 
 He told his young confidante of a day his birth, his 
 history, his hopes, and fears; and in return he learned, 
 in answer to the questions he addressed to her, so 
 much, at least, of her past and present life as the re- 
 verses of her father, occasioned by costly studies her 
 own brief sojourn at the court of Margaret and the 
 solitude, if not the struggles, in which her youth was 
 consumed. It would have been a sweet and grateful 
 sight to some kindly bystander to hear these pleasant 
 communications between two young persons so un- 
 friended, and to imagine that hearts thus opened to 
 each other unite in one. But Sibyll, though she list- 
 ened to him with interest, and found a certain sym- 
 pathy in hi<^ aspirations, was ever and anon secretly 
 comparing him to one, the charm of whose voice still 
 lingered in her ears; and her intellect, cultivated and 
 acute, detected in Marmaduke deficient education 
 and that limited experience which is the folly and the 
 happiness of the young. 
 
 On the other hand, whatever admiration Nevile 
 might conceive, was strangely mixed with surprise, 
 and, it might almost be said, with fear. This girl, 
 with her wise converse and her child's face, was a char- 
 acter so thoroughly new to him. Her language was 
 superior to what he had ever heard, the words more 
 choice, the current more flowing was that to be at- 
 tributed to her court-training or her learned par- 
 entage? 
 
 " Your father, fair mistress," said he, rousing him- 
 self in one of the pauses of their conversation " your
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 73 
 
 father, then, is a mighty scholar, and I suppose knows 
 Latin like English?" 
 
 " Why, a hedge priest pretends to know Latin," said 
 Sibyll, smiling; " my father is one of the six men liv- 
 ing who have learned the Greek and the Hebrew." 
 
 "Gramercy!" cried Marmaduke, crossing himself. 
 " That is awsome indeed! He has taught you his lere 
 in the tongues? " 
 
 " Nay, I know but my own and the French ; my 
 mother was a native of France." 
 
 "The Holy Mother be praised!" said Marmaduke, 
 breathing more freely; " for French I have heard my 
 father and uncle say is a language fit for gentles and 
 knights, specially those who come, like the Neviles, 
 from Norman stock. This Margaret of Anjou didst 
 thou love her well, Mistress Sibyll?" 
 
 " Nay," answered Sibyll, " Margaret commanded 
 awe, but she scarcely permitted love from an inferior: 
 and though gracious and well-governed when she so 
 pleased, it was but to those whom she wished to win. 
 She cared not for the heart, if the hand or the brain 
 could not assist her. But, poor queen, who could 
 blame her for this? her nature was turned from its 
 milk; and, when, more lately, I have heard how many 
 she trusted most have turned against her, I rebuked 
 myself that " 
 
 "Thou wert not by her side!" added the Nevile, 
 observing her pause, and with the generous thought of 
 a gentleman and a soldier. 
 
 " Nay, I meant not that so expressly, Master Nevile, 
 but rather that I had ever murmured at her haste and 
 shrewdness of mood. By her side, said you? alas! 
 I have a nearer duty at home; my father is all in this 
 world to me! Thou knowest not, Master Nevile, how
 
 74 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 it flatters the weak to think there is some one they can 
 protect. But eno' of myself. Thou wilt go to the 
 stout earl, thou wilt pass to the court, thou wilt win 
 the gold spurs, and thou wilt fight with the strong 
 hand, and leave others to cozen with the keen head." 
 
 " She is telling my fortune! " muttered Marmaduke, 
 crossing himself again. " The gold spurs I thank 
 thee, Mistress Sibyll! will it be on the battle-field that 
 I shall be knighted, and by whose hand? " 
 
 Sibyll glanced her bright eye at the questioner, and 
 seeing his wistful face, laughed outright. 
 
 " What, thinkest thou, Master Nevile, I can read 
 thee all riddles without my sieve and my shears?" 
 
 "They are essentials, then, Mistress Sibyll?" said 
 the Nevile, with blunt simplicity. " I thought ye more 
 learned damozels might tell by the palm, or the why 
 dost thou laugh at me? " 
 
 " Nay," answered Sibyll, composing herself. " It 
 is my right to be angered. Sith thou wouldst take me 
 to be a witch, all that I can tell thee of thy future (she 
 added touchingly) is from that which I have seen of 
 thy past. Thou hast a brave heart, and a gentle; thou 
 hast a frank tongue, and a courteous ; and these quali- 
 ties make men honoured and loved except they have 
 the gifts which turn all into gall, and bring oppression 
 for honour, and hate for love." 
 
 "And those gifts, gentle Sibyll?" 
 
 " Are my father's," answered the girl, with another 
 and a sadder change in her expressive countenance. 
 And the conversation flagged till Marmaduke, feeling 
 more weakened by his loss of blood than he had con- 
 ceived it possible, retired to his chamber to repose him- 
 self.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 75 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 MASTER MARMADUKE NEVILE FEARS FOR THE SPIRIT- 
 UAL WEAL OF HIS HOST AND HOSTESS 
 
 I 
 
 Before the hour of supper, which was served at six 
 o'clock, Nicholas Alwyn arrived at the house indi- 
 cated to him by Madge. Marmaduke, after a sound 
 sleep, which was little flattering to Sibyll's attractions, 
 had descended to the hall in search of the maiden and 
 his host, and finding no one, had sauntered in extreme 
 weariness and impatience into the little withdrawing- 
 closet, where, as it was now dusk, burned a single can- 
 dle in a melancholy and rustic sconce; standing by the 
 door that opened on the garden, he amused himself 
 with watching the peacock, when his friend, following 
 Madge into the chamber, tapped him on the shoulder. 
 
 "Well, Master Nevile. Ha! by St. Thomas, what 
 has chanced to thee? Thine arm swathed up, thy locks 
 shorn, thy face blanched! My honoured foster- 
 brother, thy Westmoreland blood seems over-hot for 
 Cockaigne! " 
 
 " If so, there are plenty in this city of cut-throats, 
 to let out the surplusage," returned Marmaduke; and 
 he briefly related his adventure to Nicholas. 
 
 When he had done, the kind trader reproached him- 
 self for having suffered Marmaduke to find his way 
 alone. " The suburbs abound with these miscreants," 
 said he ; " and there is more danger in a night-walk 
 near London, than in the loneliest glens of green Sher- 
 wood more shame to the city! An' I be Lord 
 Mayor, one of these days, I will look to it better. But 
 our civil wars make men hold human life very cheap, 
 and there's parlous little care from the great, of the
 
 76 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 blood and limbs of the wayfarers. But war makes 
 thieves and peace hangs them! Only wait till I 
 manage affairs! " 
 
 " Many thanks to thee, Nicholas," returned the Ne- 
 vile; " but foul befall me if ever I seek protection from 
 sheriff or mayor! A man who cannot keep his own 
 life with his own right hand, merits well to haplose it; 
 and I, for one, shall think ill of the day when an Eng- 
 lishman looks more to the laws than his good arm for 
 his safety; but, letting this pass, I beseech thee to ad- 
 vise me if my Lord Warwick be still in the city? " 
 
 " Yes, marry, I know that by the hostelries, which 
 swarm with his badges, and the oxen, that go in scores 
 to the shambles! It is a shame to the Estate to see 
 one subject so great, and it bodes no good to our 
 peace. The earl is preparing the most magnificent 
 embassage that ever crossed the salt seas I would it 
 were not to the French, for our interests lie contrary; 
 but thou hast some days yet to rest here and grow 
 stout, for I would not have thee present thyself with 
 a visage of chalk to a man who values his kind mainly 
 by their thews and their sinews. Moreover, thou 
 shouldst send for the tailor, and get thee trimmed to 
 the mark. It would be a long step in thy path to pro- 
 motion, an' the earl would take thee in his train; and 
 the gaudier thy plumes, why the better chance for thy 
 flight. Wherefore, since thou sayest they are thus 
 friendly to thee under this roof, bide yet awhile peace- 
 fully I will send thee the mercer, and the clothier, and 
 the tailor, to divert thy impatience. And, as these fel- 
 lows are greedy, my gentle and dear Master Nevile, 
 may I ask, without offence, how thou art provided? " 
 
 " Nay, nay, I have moneys at the hostelrie, an' thou 
 wilt send me my mails. For the rest, I like thy advice, 
 and will take it."
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 77 
 
 "Good!" answered Nicholas. "Hem! thou seem- 
 est to have got into a poor house a decayed gentle- 
 man, I wot, by the slovenly ruin! " 
 
 " I would that were the worst," replied Marmaduke, 
 solemnly, and under his breath, and therewith he re- 
 peated to Nicholas the adventure on the pastime- 
 ground, the warnings of the timbrel-girls, and the 
 " awsome " learning and strange pursuits of his host. 
 As for Sibyll, he was evidently inclined to attribute to 
 glamour the reluctant admiration with which she had 
 inspired him. " For," said he, " though I deny not 
 that the maid is passing fair there be many with 
 rosier cheeks, and taller by this hand! " 
 
 Nicholas listened, at first, with the peculiar expres- 
 sion of shrewd sarcasm which mainly characterised his 
 intelligent face, but his attention grew more earnest 
 before Marmaduke had concluded. 
 
 " In regard to the maiden," said he, smiling and 
 shaking his head, " it is not always the handsomest 
 that win us the most while fair Meg went a maying, 
 black Mog got to church and I give thee more rea- 
 sonable warning than thy, timbrel-girls, when, in spite 
 of thy cold language, I bid thee take care of thyself 
 against her attractions; for, verily, my dear foster- 
 brother, thou must mend, and not mar thy fortune, 
 by thy love matters; and keep thy heart whole for 
 some fair one with marks in her gipsire, whom the earl 
 may find out for thee. Love and raw pease are two 
 ill things in the porridge-pot. But the father! I mind 
 me now that I have heard of his name, through my 
 friend Master Caxton, the mercer, as one of prodigi- 
 ous skill in the mathematics. I should like much to 
 see him, and, with thy leave (an' he ask me), will tarry 
 to supper. But what are these? " and Nicholas took
 
 78 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 up one of the illuminated MSS. which Sibyll had pre- 
 pared for sale. "By the blood! this is couthly and 
 marvellously blazoned." 
 
 The book was still in his hand when Sibyll entered. 
 Nicholas stared at her, as he bowed with a stiff and 
 ungraceful embarrassment, which often at first did in- 
 justice to his bold, clear intellect, and his perfect self- 
 possession in matters of trade or importance. 
 
 " The first woman face," muttered Nicholas to him- 
 self, " I ever saw that had the sense of a man's. And 
 by the rood, what a smile ! " 
 
 "Is this thy friend, Master Nevile?" said Sibyll, 
 with a glance at the goldsmith. " He is welcome. 
 But is it fair and courteous, Master Nelwyn " 
 
 " Alwyn, an' it please you, fair mistress. A humble 
 name, but good Saxon which, I take it, Nelwyn is 
 not," interrupted Nicholas. 
 
 " Master Alwyn, forgive me; but can I forgive thee 
 so readily for thy espial of my handiwork, without li- 
 cence or leave? " 
 
 "Yours, comely mistress!" exclaimed Nicholas, 
 opening his eyes, and unheeding the gay rebuke 
 " why, this is a master-hand. My Lord Scales nay, 
 the Earl of Worcester himself, hath scarce a finer in 
 all his amassment." 
 
 " Well, I forgive thy fault for thy flattery; and I pray 
 thee, in my father's name, to stay and sup with thy 
 friend." 
 
 Nicholas bowed low, and still riveted his eyes on the 
 book with such open admiration, that Marmaduke 
 thought it right to excuse his abstraction ; but there 
 was something in that admiration which raised the 
 spirits of Sibyll, which gave her hope when hope was 
 well-nigh gone, and she became so vivacious, so
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 79 
 
 debonnair, so charming, in the flow of a gaiety natural 
 to her, and very uncommon with English maidens, but 
 which she took partly, perhaps, from her French blood, 
 and partly from the example of girls and maidens of 
 French extraction in Margaret's court, that Nicholas 
 Alwyn thought he had never seen any one so irre- 
 sistible. Madge having now served the evening meal, 
 put in her head to announce it, and Sibyll withdrew to 
 summon her father. 
 
 " I trust he will not tarry too long, for I am sharp 
 set," muttered Marmaduke. " What thinkest thou 
 of the damozel? " 
 
 " Marry," answered Alwyn, thoughtfully, " I pity 
 and marvel at her. There is eno' in her to furnish 
 forth twenty court beauties. But what good can so 
 much wit and cunning do to an honest maiden? " 
 
 " That is exactly my own thought," said Marma- 
 duke; and both the young men sunk into silence, till 
 Sibyll re-entered with her father. 
 
 To the surprise of Marmaduke, Nicholas Alwyn, 
 whose less gallant manner he was inclined to ridicule, 
 soon contrived to rouse their host from his lethargy, 
 and to absorb all the notice of Sibyll ; and the surprise 
 was increased, when he saw that his friend appeared 
 not unfamiliar with those abstruse and mystical sci- 
 ences in which Adam was engaged. 
 
 "What!" said Adam. "You know, then, my deft 
 and worthy friend, Master Caxton! He hath seen 
 notable things abroad " 
 
 " Which, he more than hints," said Nicholas, " will 
 lower the value of those manuscripts this fair damozel 
 has so couthly enriched: and that he hopes, ere long, 
 to show the Englishers how to make fifty, a hundred, 
 nay, even five hundred exemplars of the choicest
 
 8o THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 book, in a much shorter time than a scribe would take 
 in writing out two or three score pages in a single 
 copy." 
 
 " Verily," said Marmaduke, with a smile of compas- 
 sion, "the poor man must be somewhat demented; 
 for I opine that the value of such curiosities must be in 
 their rarity and who would care for a book, if five 
 hundred others had precisely the same? allowing al- 
 ways, good Nicholas, for thy friend's vaunting and 
 over-crowing. Five hundred! By'r lady, there would 
 be scarcely five hundred fools in merry England to 
 waste good nobles on spoilt rags, specially while bows 
 and mail are so dear." 
 
 " Young gentleman," said Adam, rebukingly, " me- 
 seemeth that thou wrongest our age and country, to 
 the which, if we have but peace and freedom, I trust 
 the birth of great discoveries is ordained. Certes, Mas- 
 ter Alwyn," he added, turning to the goldsmith, " this 
 achievement may be readily performed, and hath ex- 
 isted, I heard an ingenious Fleming say, years ago, 
 for many ages amongst a strange people * known to 
 the Venetians! But dost thou think there is much 
 appetite among those who govern the state to lend 
 encouragement to such matters? " 
 
 " My master serves my Lord Hastings, the King's 
 chamberlain, and my lord has often been pleased to 
 converse with me, so that I venture to say, from my 
 knowledge of his affection to all excellent craft and 
 lere, that whatever will tend to make men wiser will 
 have his countenance and favour with the king." 
 
 "That is it that is it!" exclaimed Adam, rubbing 
 his hands. " My invention shall not die! " 
 
 "And that invention " 
 
 * Query, the Chinese?
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 8l 
 
 " Is one that will multiply exemplars of books with- 
 out hands; works of craft without 'prentice or journey- 
 man; will move waggons and litters without horses; 
 will direct ships without sails; will but, alack! it is 
 not yet complete, and, for want of means, it never may 
 be." 
 
 Sibyll still kept her animated countenance fixed on 
 Alwyn, whose intelligence she had already detected, 
 and was charmed with the profound attention with 
 which he listened. But her eye glancing from his 
 sharp features to the handsome, honest face of the Ne- 
 vile, the contrast was so forcible, that she could not 
 restrain her laughter, though, the moment after, a 
 keen pang shot through her heart. The worthy Mar- 
 maduke had been in the act of conveying his cup to his 
 lips the cup stood arrested midway, his jaws dropped, 
 his eyes opened to their widest extent, an expression 
 of the most evident consternation and dismay spoke 
 in every feature, and, when he heard the merry laugh 
 of Sibyll, he pushed his stool from her as far as he well 
 could, and surveyed her with a look of mingled fear 
 and pity. 
 
 "Alas! thou art sure my poor father is a wizard 
 now? " 
 
 "Pardie!" answered the Nevile. "Hath he not 
 said so? Hath he not spoken of waggons without 
 horses ships without sails? And is not all this what 
 every dissour and jongleur tells us of in his stories of 
 Merlin? Gentle maiden," he added earnestly, draw- 
 ing nearer to her, and whispering in a voice of much 
 simple pathos " thou art young, and I owe thee 
 much. Take care of thyself. Such wonders and 
 derring-do are too solemn for laughter." 
 
 " Ah ! " answered Sibyll, rising, " I fear they are. 
 VOL. I. 6
 
 82 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 How can I expect the people to be wiser than thou, 
 or their hard natures kinder in their judgment than 
 thy kind heart?" Her low and melancholy voice went 
 to the heart thus appealed to. Marmaduke also rose, 
 and followed her into the parlour, or withdrawing- 
 closet, while Adam and the goldsmith continued to 
 converse (though Alwyn's eye followed the young 
 hostess), the former appearing perfectly unconscious 
 of the secession of his other listeners. But Alwyn's 
 attention occasionally wandered, and he soon con- 
 trived to draw his host into the parlour. 
 
 When Nicholas rose, at last, to depart, he beckoned 
 Sibyll aside; " Fair mistress," said he, with some awk- 
 ward hesitation, " forgive a plain, blunt tongue; but ye 
 of the better birth are not always above aid, even from 
 such as I am. If you would sell these blazoned man- 
 uscripts, I can not only obtain you a noble purchaser, 
 in my Lord Scales, or in my Lord Hastings, an equal- 
 ly ripe scholar, but it may be the means of my procur- 
 ing a suitable patron for your father, and, in these 
 times, the scholar must creep under the knight's man- 
 teline." 
 
 " Master Alwyn," said Sibyll, suppressing her tears, 
 " it was for my father's sake that these labours were 
 wrought. We are poor and friendless. Take the 
 manuscripts, and sell them as thou wilt, and God and 
 St. Mary requite thee! " 
 
 " Your father is a great man," said Alwyn, after a 
 pause. 
 
 " But were he to walk the streets, they would stone 
 him," replied Sibyll, with a quiet bitterness. 
 
 Here the Nevile, carefully shunning the magician, 
 who, in the nervous excitement produced by the con- 
 versation of a mind less uncongenial than he had en-
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 83 
 
 countered for many years, seemed about to address 
 him here, I say, the Nevile chimed in " Hast thou 
 no weapon but thy bludgeon? Dear foster-brother, I 
 fear for thy safety." 
 
 " Nay, robbers rarely attack us mechanical folk; and 
 I know my way better than thou. I shall find a boat 
 near York House, so pleasant night and quick cure to 
 thee, honoured foster-brother. I will send the tailor 
 and other craftsmen to-morrow." 
 
 " And at the same time," whispered Marmaduke, ac- 
 companying his friend to the door, " send me a brev- 
 iary, just to patter an ave or so. This grey-haired 
 carle puts my heart in a tremble. Moreover, buy me 
 a gittern a brave one for the damozel. She is too 
 proud to take money, and, 'fore heaven, I have small 
 doubts the old wizard could turn my hose into nobles 
 an' he had a mind for such gear. Waggons without 
 horses ships without sails, quotha! " 
 
 As soon as Alwyn had departed, Madge appeared 
 with the final refreshment, called " the Wines," con- 
 sisting of spiced hippocras and confections, of the 
 former of which the Nevile partook in solemn silence. 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THERE IS A ROD FOR THE BACK OF EVERY FOOL WHO 
 WOULD BE WISER THAN HIS GENERATION 
 
 The next morning, when Marmaduke descended to 
 the hall, Madge, accosting him on the threshold, in- 
 formed him that Mistress Sibyll was unwell, and kept 
 her chamber, and that Master Warner was never visi- 
 ble much before noon. He was, therefore, prayed to 
 take his meal alone. " Alone " was a word peculiarly
 
 84 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 unwelcome to Marmaduke Nevile, who was an animal 
 thoroughly social and gregarious. He managed, 
 therefore, to detain the old servant, who, besides the 
 liking a skilful leech naturally takes to a thriving pa- 
 " tient, had enough of her sex about her to be pleased 
 , with a comely face and a frank, good-humoured voice. 
 Moreover, Marmaduke, wishing to satisfy his curios- 
 ity, turned the conversation upon Warner and Sibyll, 
 a theme upon which the old woman was well disposed 
 to be garrulous. He soon learned the poverty of the 
 mansion and the sacrifice of the gittern; and his gen- 
 erosity and compassion were busily engaged in devis- 
 ing some means to requite the hospitality he had re- 
 ceived, without wounding the pride of his host, when 
 the arrival of his mails, together with the visits of the 
 tailor and mercer, sent to him by Alwyn, diverted his 
 thoughts into a new channel. 
 
 Between the comparative merits of gowns and sur- 
 coats, broad-toed shoes and pointed, some time was 
 disposed of with much cheerfulness and edification; 
 but when his visitors had retired, the benevolent mind 
 of the young guest again recurred to the penury of his 
 host. Placing his marks before him on the table in 
 the little withdrawing parlour, he began counting them 
 over, and putting aside the sum he meditated devoting 
 to Warner's relief. " But how," he muttered, " how 
 to get him to take the gold. I know, by myself, what 
 " a gentleman and a knight's son must feel at the proffer 
 of alms pardie! I would as lief Alwyn had struck 
 me as offered me his gipsire the ill-mannered, affec- 
 tionate fellow! I must think I must think " 
 
 And while still thinking, the door softly opened, 
 and Warner himself, in a high state of abstraction and 
 reverie, stalked noiselessly into the room, on his way
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 85 
 
 to the garden, in which, when musing over some new 
 spring for his invention, he was wont to peripatise. 
 The sight of the gold on the table struck full on the 
 philosopher's eyes, and waked him at once from his 
 reverie. That gold oh what precious instruments, 
 what learned manuscripts it could purchase! That 
 gold, it was the breath of life to his model ! He walked 
 deliberately up to the table, and laid his hand upon one 
 of the little heaps. Marmaduke drew back his stool, 
 and stared at him with open mouth. 
 
 " Young man, what wantest thou with all this 
 gold?" said Adam, in a petulant, reproachful tone. 
 " Put it up put it up! Never let the poor see gold; 
 it tempts them, sir it tempts them." And so saying, 
 the student abruptly turned away his eyes, and moved 
 towards the garden. 
 
 Marmaduke rose and put himself in Adam's way 
 
 " Honoured sir," said the young man, " you say 
 justly what want I with all this gold? The only gold 
 a young man should covet is eno' to suffice for the 
 knight's spurs to his heels. lf t without offence, you 
 would that is ehem! I mean, gramercy! I shall 
 never say it, but I believe my father owed your 
 father four marks, and he bade me repay them. Here, 
 sir!" He held out the glittering coins the philoso- 
 pher's hand closed on them as the fish's maw closes on 
 the bait. Adam burst into a laugh, that sounded 
 strangely weird and unearthly upon Marmaduke's 
 startled ear. 
 
 " All this for me! " he exclaimed. " For me! No, 
 no! not for me, for IT I take it I take it, sir! I 
 will pay it back with large usury. Come to me this 
 day year, when this world will be a new world, and 
 Adam Warner will be ha! ha! Kind Heaven, I
 
 86 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 thank thee ! " Suddenly turning away, the philoso- 
 pher strode through the hall, opened the front door, 
 and escaped into the street. 
 
 " By'r Lady ! " said Marmaduke, slowly recovering 
 his surprise. " I need not have been so much at a 
 loss; the old gentleman takes to my gold as kindly as 
 if it were mother's milk. 'Fore heaven, mine host's 
 laugh is a ghastly thing! " So soliloquising, he pru- 
 dently put up the rest of his money, and locked his 
 mails. 
 
 As time went on, the young man became exceeding- 
 ly weary of his own company. Sibyll still withheld 
 her appearance: the gloom of the old hall, the unculti- 
 vated sadness of the lonely garden, preyed upon his 
 spirits. At length, impatient to get a view of the 
 world without, he mounted a high stool in the hall, 
 and so contrived to enjoy the prospect, which the un- 
 glazed wicker lattice, deep set in the wall, afforded. 
 But the scene without was little more animated than 
 that within all was so deserted in the neighbourhood! 
 the shops mean and scattered the thoroughfare al- 
 most desolate. At last he heard a shout, or rather 
 hoot, at a distance; and, turning his attention whence 
 it proceeded, he beheld a figure emerge from an alley 
 opposite the casement, with a sack under one arm, and 
 several books heaped under the other. At his heels 
 followed a train of ragged boys, shouting and halloo- 
 ing, "The wizard! the wizard! Ah! Bah! The old 
 devil's-kin ! " At this cry the dull neighbourhood 
 seemed suddenly to burst forth into life. From the 
 casements and thresholds of every house curious faces 
 emerged, and many voices of men and women joined, 
 in deeper bass, with the shrill tenor of the choral 
 urchins, " The wizard! the wizard! out at daylight! "
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 87 
 
 The person thus stigmatised, as he approached the 
 house, turned his face, with an expression of wistful 
 perplexity, from side to side. His lips moved convul- 
 sively, and his face was very pale, but he spoke not. 
 And now, the children seeing him near his refuge, be- 
 came more outrageous. They placed themselves men- 
 acingly before him they pulled his robe they even 
 struck at him and one, bolder than the rest, jumped 
 up, and plucked his beard. At this last insult, Adam 
 Warner, for it was he, broke silence; but such was the 
 sweetness of his disposition, that it was rather with 
 pity than reproof in his voice, that he said , 
 
 " Fie, little one! I fear me thine own age will have 
 small honour if thou thus mockest mature years in 
 me." 
 
 This gentleness only served to increase the audacity 
 of his persecutors, who now, momentarily augment- 
 ing, presented a formidable obstacle to his further prog- 
 ress. Perceiving that he could not advance, without 
 offensive measures on his own part, the poor scholar 
 halted; and looking at the crowd with mild dignity, he 
 asked, " What means this, my children? How have 
 I injured you? " 
 
 " The wizard the wizard ! " was the only answer 
 he received. 
 
 Adam shrugged his shoulders, and strode on with 
 so sudden a step, that one of the smaller children, a 
 curly-headed laughing rogue, of about eight years old, 
 was thrown down at his feet, and the rest gave way. 
 But the poor man, seeing one of his foes thus fallen, 
 instead of pursuing his victory, again paused, and for- 
 getful of the precious burdens he carried, let drop the 
 sack and books, and took up the child in his arms. 
 On seeing their companion in the embrace of the wiz-
 
 88 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 ard, a simultaneous cry of horror broke from the as- 
 semblage. "He is going to curse poor Tim!" 
 
 "My child! my boy!" shrieked a woman, from 
 one of the casements " let go my child! " 
 
 On his part, the boy kicked and shrieked lustily, as 
 Adam, bending his noble face tenderly over him, said, 
 " Thou art not hurt, child. Poor boy ! thinkest thou 
 I would harm thee? " While he spoke a storm of mis- 
 siles mud, dirt, sticks, bricks, stones, from the ene- 
 my, that had now fallen back in the rear, burst upon 
 him. A stone struck him on the shoulder. Then his 
 face changed an angry gleam shot from his deep, 
 calm eyes he put down the child and, turning stead- 
 ily to the grown people at the windows, said, " Ye train 
 your children ill " picked up his sack and books 
 sighed, as he saw the latter stained by the mire, which 
 he wiped with his long sleeve, and too proud to show 
 fear, slowly made for his door. Fortunately Sibyll had 
 heard the clamour, and was ready to admit her father, 
 and close her door upon the rush which instantane- 
 ously followed his escape. The baffled rout set up a 
 yell of wrath, and the boys were now joined by several 
 foes more formidable from the adjacent houses: as- 
 sured in their own minds that some terrible execration 
 had been pronounced upon the limbs and body of 
 Master Tim, who still continued bellowing and howl- 
 ing, probably from the excitement of finding himself 
 raised to the dignity of a martyr, the pious neigh- 
 bours poured forth, with oaths, and curses, and such 
 weapons as they could seize in haste, to storm the wiz- 
 ard's fortress. 
 
 From his casement Marmaduke Nevile had espied 
 all that had hitherto passed, and though indignant at 
 the brutality of the persecutors, he had thought it by
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 89 
 
 no means unnatural. " If men, gentlemen born, will 
 read uncanny books, and resolve to be wizards, why 
 they must reap what they sow," was the logical reflec- 
 tion that passed through the mind of that ingenuous 
 youth; but when he now perceived the arrival of more 
 important allies when stones began to fly through 
 the wicker lattices when threats of setting fire to the 
 house and burning the sorcerer, who muttered spells 
 over innocent little boys, were heard, seriously increas- 
 ing in depth and loudness Marmaduke felt his chiv- 
 alry called forth, and, with some difficulty, opening the 
 rusty wicket in the casement, he exclaimed, " Shame 
 on you, my countrymen, for thus disturbing, in broad 
 day, a peaceful habitation! Ye call mine host a wiz- 
 ard. Thus much say I on his behalf: I was robbed 
 and wounded a few nights since in your neighbour- 
 hood, and in this house alone I found shelter and heal- 
 ing." 
 
 The unexpected sight of the fair young face of Mar- 
 maduke Nevile, and the healthful sound of his clear 
 ringing voice, produced a momentary effect on the be- 
 siegers, when one of them, a sturdy baker, cried out, 
 " Heed him not he is a goblin ! Those devil-mon- 
 gers can bake ye a dozen such every moment, as deftly 
 as I can draw loaves from the oven! " 
 
 This speech turned the tide, and at that instant a 
 savage-looking man, the father of the aggrieved boy, 
 followed by his wife, gesticulating and weeping, ran 
 from his house, waving a torch in his right hand, his 
 arm bare to the shoulder, and the cry of " Fire the 
 door! " was universal. 
 
 In fact, the danger now grew imminent: several of 
 the party were already piling straw and fagots against 
 the threshold, and Marmaduke began to think the only
 
 90 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 chance of life to his host and Sibyll was in flight by 
 some back way, when he beheld a man, clad somewhat 
 in the fashion of a country yeoman, a formidable knot- 
 ted club in his hand, pushing his way, with Herculean 
 shoulders, through the crowd, and stationing himself 
 before the threshold and brandishing aloft his formi- 
 dable weapon, he exclaimed, "What! In the devil's 
 name, do you mean to get yourselves all hanged for 
 riot? Do you think King Edward is as soft a man 
 as King Henry was, and that he will suffer any one but 
 himself to set fire to people's houses in this way? I 
 dare say you are all right enough on the main, but by 
 the blood of St. Thomas, I will brain the first man who 
 advances a step, by way of preserving the necks of 
 the rest!" 
 
 "A Robin! a Robin!" cried several of the mob. 
 " It is our good friend Robin. Hearken to Robin. 
 He is always right! " 
 
 "Ay. that I am! " quoth the defender; "you know 
 vhat well enough. If I had my way, the world should 
 be turned upside down, but what the poor folk should 
 get nearer to the sun! But what I say is this, never 
 go against law, while the law is too strong. And it 
 were a sad thing to see fifty fine fellows trussed up for 
 burning an old wizard. So, be off with you, and let 
 us, at least all that can afford it, make for Master San- 
 croft's hostelrie, and talk soberly over our ale. For 
 little, I trow, will ye work now your blood's up." 
 
 This address was received with a shout of approba- 
 tion. The father of the injured child set his broad foot 
 on his torch, the baker chucked up his white cap, the 
 ragged boys yelled out, " A Robin ! a Robin ! " and 
 in less than two minutes the place was as empty as it 
 had been before the appearance of the scholar. Mar-
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 91 
 
 maduke, who, though so ignorant of books, was acute 
 and penetrating in all matters of action, could not help 
 admiring the address and dexterity of the club-bearer: 
 and the danger being now over, withdrew from the 
 casement, in search of the inmates of the house. As- 
 cending the stairs, he found on the landing-place, near 
 his room, and by the embrasure of a huge casement 
 which jutted from the wall, Adam and his daughter. 
 Adam was leaning against the wall, with his arms 
 folded, and Sibyll, hanging upon him, was uttering 
 the softest and most soothing words of comfort her 
 tenderness could suggest. 
 
 " My child," said the old man, shaking his head 
 sadly, " I shall never again have heart for these studies 
 never. A king's anger I could brave, a priest's 
 malice I could pity but to find the very children, the 
 young race, for whose sake I have made thee and 
 
 myself paupers, to find them thus thus " He 
 
 stopped, for his voice failed him, and the tears rolled 
 down his cheeks. 
 
 " Come and speak comfort' to my father, Master 
 Nevile!" exclaimed Sibyll, "come and tell him that 
 whoever is above the herd, whether knight or scholar, 
 must learn to despise the hootings that follow Merit. 
 Father, father, they threw mud and stones at thy king 
 as he passed through the streets of London. Thou art 
 not the only one whom this base world misjudges." 
 
 "Worthy mine host!" said Marmaduke, thus ap- 
 pealed to : " Algates, it were not speaking truth to tell 
 thee that I think a gentleman of birth and quality 
 should walk the thoroughfares with a bundle of books 
 under his arm, yet as for the raptril vulgar, the hild- 
 ings and cullions who hiss one day what they applaud 
 the next, I hold it the duty of every Christian and well-
 
 92 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 born man to regard them as the dirt on the crossings. 
 Brave soldiers term it no disgrace to receive a blow 
 from a base hind. An' it had been knights and gen- 
 tles who had insulted thee, thou mightest have cause 
 for shame. But a mob of lewd rascallions and squall- 
 ing infants bah! verily, it is mere matter for scorn 
 and laughter." 
 
 These philosophical propositions and distinctions 
 did not seem to have their due effect upon Adam. He 
 smiled, however, gently upon his guest, and with a 
 blush over his pale face, said, " I am rightly chastised, 
 good young man; mean was I, methinks, and sordid 
 to take from thee thy good gold. But thou knowest 
 not what fever burns in the brain of a man who feels 
 that, had he wealth, his knowledge could do great 
 things, such things! I thought to repay thee well. 
 Now the frenzy is gone, and I, who an hour agone 
 esteemed myself a puissant sage, sink in mine own con- 
 ceit to a miserable blinded fool. Child, I am very 
 weak; I will lay me down and rest." 
 
 So saying the poor philosopher went his way to his 
 chamber, leaning on his daughter's arm. 
 
 In a few minutes Sibyll rejoined Marmaduke, who 
 had returned to the hall, and informed him that her 
 father had lain down a while to compose himself. 
 
 " It is a hard fate, sir," said the girl, with a faint 
 smile; " a hard fate, to be banned and accursed by the 
 world, only because one has sought to be wiser than 
 the world is." 
 
 " Douce maiden," returned the Nevile; " it is happy 
 for thee that thy sex forbids thee to follow thy father's 
 footsteps, or I should say his hard fate were thy fair 
 warning." 
 
 Sibyll smiled faintly, and after a pause, said, with 
 a deep blush:
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 93 
 
 " You have been generous to my father; do not mis- 
 judge him. He would give his last groat to a starving 
 beggar. But when his passion of scholar and inven- 
 tor masters him thou mightest think him worse than 
 miser. It is an over-noble yearning that ofttimes 
 makes him mean." 
 
 " Nay," answered Marmaduke, touched by the heavy 
 sigh and swimming eyes with which the last words 
 were spoken ; " I have heard Nick Alwyn's uncle, who 
 was a learned monk, declare that he could not con- 
 strain himself to pray to be delivered from temptation 
 seeing that he might thereby lose an occasion for 
 filching some notable book! For the rest," he added, 
 " you forget how much I -owe to Master Warner's hos- 
 pitality." 
 
 He took her hand with a frank and brotherly gal- 
 lantry as he spoke; but the touch of that small, soft 
 hand, freely and innocently resigned to him, sent a 
 thrill to his heart and again the face of Sibyll seemed 
 to him wondrous fair. 
 
 There was a long silence, which Sibyll was the first 
 to break. She turned the conversation once more 
 upon Marmaduke's views in life. It had been easy 
 for a deeper observer than he was, to see that, under 
 all that young girl's simplicity and sweetness, there 
 lurked something of dangerous ambition. She loved 
 to recall the court-life her childhood had known, 
 though her youth had resigned it with apparent cheer- 
 fulness. Like many who are poor and fallen, Sibyll 
 built herself a sad consolation out of her pride; she 
 never forgot that she was well-born. But Marmaduke, 
 in what was ambition, saw but interest in himself, and 
 his heart beat more quickly as he bent his eyes upon 
 that downcast, thoughtful, earnest countenance.
 
 94 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 After an hour thus passed, Sibyll left the guest, and 
 remounted to her father's chamber. She found Adam 
 pacing the narrow floor, and muttering to himself. 
 He turned abruptly as she entered, and said, " Come 
 hither, child I took four marks from that young man, 
 for I wanted books and instruments, and there are two 
 left; see take them back to him." 
 
 " My father, he will not receive them. Fear not, 
 thou shalt repay him some day." 
 
 " Take them, I say, and if the young man says thee 
 nay, why, buy thyself gauds and gear, or let us eat, 
 and drink, and laugh. What else is life made for? 
 Ha! ha! Laugh, child, laugh! " 
 
 There was something strangely pathetic in this out- 
 burst, this terrible mirth, born of profound dejection. 
 Alas for this guileless, simple creature, who had 
 clutched at gold with a huckster's eagerness who, 
 forgetting the wants of his own child, had employed 
 it upon the service of an Abstract Thought, and whom 
 the scorn of his kind now pierced through all the 
 folds of his close-webbed philosophy and self-forgetful 
 genius. Awful is the duel between MAN and THE AGE 
 in which he lives! For the gain of posterity, Adam 
 Warner had martyrised existence, and the children 
 pelted him as he passed the streets! Sibyll burst into 
 tears. 
 
 " No, my father, no," she sobbed, pushing back the 
 money into his hands. " Let us both starve, rather 
 than you should despond. God and man will bring 
 you justice yet." 
 
 " Ah! " said the baffled enthusiast, " my whole mind 
 is one sore now. I feel as if I could love man no more. 
 Go, and leave me. Go, I say! " and the poor student, 
 usually so mild and gall-less, stamped his foot in im-
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 95 
 
 potent rage. Sibyll, weeping as if her heart would 
 break, left him. 
 
 Then Adam Warner again paced to and fro rest- 
 lessly, and again muttered to himself for several min- 
 utes. At last he approached his Model the model of 
 a mighty and stupendous invention the fruit of no 
 chimerical and visionary science a great Promethean 
 THING, that, once matured, would divide the Old 
 World from the New, enter into all operations of 
 Labour, animate all the future affairs, colour all the 
 practical doctrines of active men. He paused before 
 it, and addressed it as if it heard and understood him 
 " My hair was dark, and my tread was firm, when, one 
 night, a THOUGHT passed into my soul a thought to 
 make Matter the gigantic slave of Mind. Out of this 
 thought, thou, not yet born after five-and-twenty years 
 of travail, wert conceived. My coffers were then full, 
 and my name was honoured; and the rich respected, 
 and the poor loved, me. Art thou a devil, that has 
 tempted me to ruin, or a god, that has lifted me above 
 the earth? I am old before my time, my hair is 
 blanched, my frame is bowed, my wealth is gone, my 
 name is sullied. And all, dumb idol of Iron, and the 
 Element, all for thee! I had a wife whom I adored 
 she died I forgot her loss in the hope of thy life. I 
 have a child still God and our Lady forgive me she 
 1 is less dear to me than thou hast been. And now " 
 the old man ceased abruptly, and folding his arms, 
 looked at the deaf iron sternly, as on a human foe. 
 By his side was a huge hammer, employed in the toils 
 of his forge; suddenly he seized and swung it aloft. 
 One blow, and the labour of years was shattered into 
 pieces! One blow! But the heart failed him, and the 
 hammer fell heavily to the ground.
 
 96 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 " Ay! " he muttered, " true true! if thou, who hast 
 destroyed all else, wert destroyed too, what were left 
 me? Is it a crime to murder Man? a greater crime 
 to murder Thought, which is the life of all men. Come 
 ' I forgive thee!" 
 
 And all that day and all that night the Enthusiast 
 laboured in his chamber, and the next day the remem- 
 brance of the hootings, the pelting, the mob, was gone 
 clean gone from his breast. The Model began to 
 move life hovered over its wheels; and the Martyr 
 of Science had forgotten the very world for which he, 
 groaning and rejoicing, toiled! 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 MASTER MARMADUKE NEVILE MAKES LOVE AND IS 
 FRIGHTENED 
 
 For two or three days, Marmaduke and Sibyll were 
 necessarily brought much together. Such familiarity 
 of intercourse was peculiarly rare in that time, when, 
 except perhaps in the dissolute court of Edward IV., 
 the virgins of gentle birth mixed sparingly, and with 
 great reserve, amongst those of opposite sex. Mar- 
 maduke, rapidly recovering from the effect of his 
 wounds, and without other resource than Sibyll's so- 
 ciety, in the solitude of his confinement, was not proof 
 against the temptation which one so young and so 
 sweetly winning brought to his fancy or his senses. 
 The poor Sibyll she was no faultless paragon she 
 was a rare and singular mixture of many opposite 
 qualities in heart and in intellect! She was one mo- 
 ment infantine in simplicity and gay playfulness the 
 next, a shade passed over her bright face, and she ut-
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 97 
 
 tered some sentence of that bitter and chilling wisdom, 
 which the sense of persecution, the cruelty of the world, 
 had already taught her. She was, indeed, at that age 
 when the Child and the Woman are struggling against 
 each other. Her character was not yet formed a 
 little happiness would have ripened it at once into the 
 richest bloom of goodness. But sorrow, that ever 
 sharpens the intellect, might only serve to sour the 
 heart. Her mind was so innately chaste and pure, that 
 she knew not the nature of the admiration she excited. 
 But the admiration pleased her as it pleases some 
 young child she was vain then, but it was an infant's 
 vanity, not a woman's. And thus, from innocence it- 
 self, there was a fearlessness, a freedom, a something 
 endearing and familiar in her manner, which might 
 have turned a wiser head than Marmaduke Nevile's. 
 And this the more, because, while liking her young 
 guest, confiding in him, raised in her own esteem .by 
 his gallantry, enjoying that intercourse of youth with 
 youth, so unfamiliar to her, and surrendering herself 
 the more to its charm from the joy that animated her 
 spirits, in seeing that her father had forgotten his hu- 
 miliation, and returned to his wonted labours she yet 
 knew not for the handsome Nevile one sentiment that 
 approached to love. Her mind was so superior to his 
 own, that she felt almost as if older in years, and in 
 their talk, her rosy lips preached to him in grave 
 advice. 
 
 On the landing, by Marmaduke's chamber, there 
 was a large oriel casement jutting from the wall. It 
 was only glazed at the upper part, and that most im- 
 perfectly, the lower part being closed at night, or in 
 inclement weather, with rude shutters. The recess 
 formed by this comfortless casement answered., there- 
 VOL. I. 7
 
 93 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 fore, the purpose of a balcony; it commanded a full 
 view of the vicinity without, and gave to those who 
 might be passing by, the power also of indulging their 
 own curiosity by a view of the interior. 
 
 Whenever he lost sight of Sibyll, and had grown 
 weary of the peacock, this spot was Marmaduke's 
 favourite haunt. It diverted him, poor youth, to look 
 out of the window upon the livelier world beyond. 
 The place, it is true, was ordinarily deserted, but still 
 the spires and turrets of London were always discerni- 
 ble and they were something. 
 
 Accordingly, in this embrasure stood Marmaduke, 
 when one morning, Sibyll, coming from her father's 
 room, joined him. 
 
 " And what, Master Nevile," said Sibyll, with a ma- 
 licious yet charming smile, " what claimed thy medi- 
 tations? Some misgiving as to the trimming of thy 
 tunic, or the length of thy shoon?" 
 
 " Nay," returned Marmaduke, gravely, " such 
 thoughts, though not without their importance in the 
 mind of a gentleman, who would not that his igno- 
 rance of court delicacies should commit him to the 
 japes of his equals, were not at that moment upper- 
 most. I was thinking " 
 
 " Of those mastiffs, quarrelling for a bone. Avow 
 it." 
 
 " By our Lady I saw them not, but now I look, they 
 are brave dogs. Ha! seest thou how gallantly each 
 fronts the other, the hair bristling, the eyes fixed, the 
 tail on end, the fangs glistening. Now the lesser one 
 moves slowly round and round the bigger, who, mind 
 you, Mistress Sibyll, is no dullard, but moves, too, 
 quick as thought, not to be taken unawares. Ha! 
 that is a brave spring! Heigh, dogs, heigh! a good
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 99 
 
 sight it makes the blood warm! the little one hath 
 him by the throat! " 
 
 " Alack," said Sibyll, turning away her eyes, " can 
 you find pleasure in seeing two poor brutes mangle 
 each other for a bone? " 
 
 " By St. Dunstan ! doth it matter what may be the 
 cause of quarrel, so long as dog or man bears himself 
 bravely, with a due sense of honour and derring-do. 
 See! the big one is up again. Ah! foul fall the 
 butcher, who drives them away. Those seely me- 
 chanics know not the joyaunce of fair fighting to gen- 
 tle and to hound. For a hound, mark you, hath noth- 
 ing mechanical in his nature. He is a gentleman all 
 over brave against equal and stranger, forbearing to 
 the small and defenceless, true in poverty and need 
 where he loveth, stern and ruthless where he hateth, 
 and despising thieves, hildings, and the vulgar, as 
 much as e'er a gold spur in King Edward's court! 
 Oh! certes, your best gentleman is the best hound!" 
 
 " You moralise to-day. And I know not how to 
 gainsay you," returned Sibyll, as the dogs, reluctantly 
 beaten off, retired each from each, snarling and reluc- 
 tant, while a small black cur, that had hitherto sat un- 
 observed at the door of a small hostelrie, now coolly 
 approached and dragged off the bone of contention. 
 "But what say'st thou now? See! see! the patient 
 mongrel carries off the bone from the gentlemen- 
 hounds. Is that the way of the world ? " 
 
 "Pardie! it is a naught world, if so, and much 
 changed from the time of our fathers, the Normans. 
 But these Saxons are getting uppermost again, and 
 the yard measure, I fear me, is more potent in these 
 holiday times than the mace or the battle-axe." The 
 Nevile paused, sighed, and changed the subject:
 
 ioo THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 " This house of thine must have been a stately pile 
 in its day. I see but one side of the quadrangle is left, 
 though it be easy to trace where the other three have 
 stood." 
 
 " And you may see their stones and their fittings in 
 the butcher's and baker's stalls over the way," replied 
 Sibyll. 
 
 "Ay!" said the Nevile, "the parings of the gentry 
 begin to be the wealth of the varlets." 
 
 " Little ought we to pine at that," returned Sibyll, 
 "if the varlets were but gentle with our poverty; but 
 they loathe the humbled fortunes on which they rise, 
 and while slaves to the rich, are tyrants to the poor." 
 
 This was said so sadly, that the Nevile felt his eyes 
 overflow; and the humble dress of the girl, the melan- 
 choly ridges which evinced the site of a noble house, 
 now shrunk into a dismal ruin, the remembrance of 
 the pastime-ground, the insults of the crowd, and the 
 broken gittern, all conspired to move his compassion, 
 and to give force to yet more tender emotions. 
 
 "Ah!" he said, suddenly, and with a quick faint 
 blush over his handsome and manly countenance 
 " ah, fair maid fair Sibyll ! God grant that I may 
 win something of gold and fortune amidst yonder 
 towers, on which the sun shines so cheerly. God 
 grant it, not for my sake not for mine; but that I may 
 have something besides a true heart and a stainless 
 name to lay at thy feet. Oh, Sibyll! By this hand 
 by my father's soul I love thee, Sibyll! Have I not 
 said it before? Well, hear me now I love thee!" 
 
 As he spoke, he clasped her hand in his own, and 
 she suffered it for one instant to rest in his. Then 
 withdrawing it, and meeting his enamoured eyes, with 
 a strange sadness in her own darker, deeper, and more 
 intelligent orbs, she said
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 101 
 
 " I thank thee thank thee for the honour of such 
 kind thoughts; and frankly I answer, as thou hast 
 frankly spoken. It was sweet to me, who have known 
 little in life not hard and bitter sweet to wish I had 
 a brother like thee, and, as a brother, I can love and 
 pray for thee. But ask not more, Marmaduke. I 
 have aims in life which forbid all other love! " 
 
 " Art thou too aspiring for one who has his spurs 
 to win?" 
 
 "Not so; but listen. My mother's lessons and my 
 own heart have made my poor father the first end and 
 object of all things on earth to me. I live to protect 
 him, work for him, honour him and for the rest I 
 have thoughts thou canst not know an ambition thou 
 canst not feel. Nay," she added, with that delightful 
 smile which chased away the graver thought which 
 had before saddened her aspect, "what would thy 
 sober friend Master Alwyn say to thee, if he heard thou 
 hadst courted the wizard's daughter? " 
 
 " By my faith," exclaimed Marmaduke, " thou art 
 a very April smiles and clouds in a breath! If what 
 thou despisest in me be my want of bookcraft, and 
 suchlike, by my halidame I will turn scholar for thy 
 sake; and " 
 
 Here, as he had again taken Sibyll's hand, with the 
 passionate ardour of his bold nature, not to be lightly 
 daunted by a maiden's first " No," a sudden shrill, wild 
 burst of laughter, accompanied with a gusty fit of un- 
 melodious music from the street below, made both 
 maiden and youth start, and turn their eyes: there, 
 weaving their immodest dance, tawdry in their tinsel 
 attire, their naked arms glancing above their heads, 
 as they waved on high their instruments, went the 
 timbrel-girls.
 
 102 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 " Ha! ha! " cried their leader, " see the gallant and 
 the witch-leman! The glamour has done its work! 
 Foul is fair! foul is fair! and the devil will have his 
 own!" 
 
 But these creatures, whose bold licence the ancient 
 chronicler records, were rarely seen alone. They 
 haunted parties of pomp and pleasure; they linked to- 
 gether the extremes of life the grotesque Chorus that 
 introduced the terrible truth of foul vice, and aban- 
 doned wretchedness in the midst of the world's holi- 
 day and pageant. So now, as they wheeled into the 
 silent, squalid street, they heralded a goodly company 
 of dames and cavaliers, on horseback, who were pass- 
 ing through the neighbouring plains into the park of 
 Marybone to enjoy the sport of falconry. The splen- 
 did dresses of this procession, and the grave and meas- 
 ured dignity with which it swept along, contrasted 
 forcibly with the wild movements and disorderly mirth 
 of the timbrel players. These last darted round and 
 round the riders, holding out their instruments for 
 largess, and retorting, with laugh and gibe, the dis- 
 dainful look or sharp rebuke with which their saluta- 
 tions were mostly received. 
 
 Suddenly, as the company, two by two, paced up the 
 street, Sibyll uttered a faint exclamation, and strove to 
 snatch her hand from the Nevile's grasp. Her eye 
 rested upon one of the horsemen who rode last, and 
 who seemed in earnest conversation with a dame, who, 
 though scarcely in her first youth, excelled all her fair 
 companions in beauty of face and grace of horseman- 
 ship, as well as in the costly equipments of the white 
 barb that caracolled beneath her easy hand. At the 
 same moment the horseman looked up and gazed 
 steadily at Sibyll, whose countenance grew pale, and
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 103 
 
 flushed, in a breath. His eye then glanced rapidly at 
 Marmaduke a half-smile passed his pale, firm lips; 
 he slightly raised the plumed cap from his brow in- 
 clined gravely to Sibyll and, turning once more to his 
 companion, appeared to answer some question she ad- 
 dressed to him, as to the object of his salutation, for 
 her look, which was proud, keen, and lofty, was raised 
 to Sibyll, and then dropped somewhat disdainfully, 
 as she listened to the words addressed her by the 
 cavalier. 
 
 The lynx eyes of the tymbestercs had seen the rec- 
 ognition; and their leader, laying her bold hand on the 
 embossed bridle of the horseman, exclaimed, in a voice 
 shrill and loud enough to be heard in the balcony 
 above, " Largess! noble lord, largess! for the sake of 
 the lady thou lovest best! " 
 
 The fair equestrian turned away her head at these 
 words, the nobleman watched her a moment, and 
 dropped some coins into the timbrel. 
 
 " Ha ! ha ! " cried the tymbcstere, pointing her long 
 arm to Sibyll, and springing towards the balcony 
 
 " The cushat would mate 
 
 Above her state, 
 And she flutters her wings round the falcon's beak; 
 
 But death to the dove 
 
 Is the falcon's love 
 Oh, sharp is the kiss of the falcon's beak ! " 
 
 Before this rude song was ended, Sibyll had van- 
 ished from the place; the cavalcade had disappeared. 
 The timbrel-players, without deigning to notice Mar- 
 maduke, darted elsewhere to ply their discordant trade, 
 and the Nevile, crossing himself devoutly, muttered, 
 " Jesu defend us ! Those she Will-o'-the-wisps are 
 eno' to scare all the blood out of one's body. What
 
 104 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 a murrain on them! do they portend, flitting round 
 and round, and skirting off, as if the devil's broomstick 
 was behind them! By the mass! they have frighted 
 away the damozel, and I am not sorry for it. They 
 have left me small heart for the part of Sir Launval." 
 His meditations were broken off by the sudden 
 sight of Nicholas Alwyn, mounted on a small palfrey, 
 and followed by a sturdy groom on horseback, leading 
 a steed handsomely caparisoned. In another moment, 
 Marmaduke had descended opened the door and 
 drawn Alwyn into the hall. 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 MASTER MARMADUKE NEVILE LEAVES THE WIZARD'S 
 HOUSE FOR THE GREAT WORLD 
 
 " Right glad am I," said Nicholas, " to see you so 
 stout and hearty, for I am the bearer of good news. 
 Though I have been away, I have not forgotten you; 
 and it so chanced that I went yesterday to attend my 
 Lord of Warwick with some nowches* and knack- 
 eries, that he takes out as gifts and exemplars of Eng- 
 lish work. They were indifferently well wrought, spe- 
 cially a chevesail, of which the " 
 
 " Spare me the fashion of thy mechanicals, and 
 come to the point," interrupted Marmaduke, impa- 
 tiently. 
 
 " Pardon me, Master Nevile. I interrupt thee not 
 when thou talkest of bassinets and hauberks every 
 cobbler to his last. But, as thou sayest, to the point: 
 the stout earl, while scanning my workmanship, for in 
 much the chevesail was mine, was pleased to speak 
 * Nowches buckles and other ornaments.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 105 
 
 graciously of my skill with the bow, of which he had 
 heard; and he then turned to thyself, of whom my 
 Lord Montagu had already made disparaging men- 
 tion : when I told the earl somewhat more about thy 
 qualities and disposings; and when I spoke of thy de- 
 sire to serve him, and the letter of which thou art the 
 bearer, his black brows smoothed mighty graciously, 
 and he bade me tell thee to come to him this afternoon, 
 and he would judge of thee with his, own eyes and ears. 
 Wherefore I have ordered the craftsmen to have all 
 thy gauds and gear ready at thine hostelrie, and I have 
 engaged thee henchmen and horses for thy fitting ap- 
 pearance. Be quick: time and the great wait for no 
 man. So take whatever thou needest for present want, 
 from thy mails, and I will send a porter for the rest 
 ere sunset." 
 
 " But the gittern for the damozel? " 
 
 " I have provided that for thee, as is meet." And 
 Nicholas, stepping back, eased the groom of a case 
 which contained a gittern, whose workmanship and 
 ornaments delighted the Nevile. 
 
 " It is of my lord the young duke of Gloucester's 
 own musical-vendor; and the duke, though a lad yet, 
 is a notable judge of all appertaining to the gentle 
 craft.* So despatch, and away!" 
 
 Marmaduke retired to his chamber, and Nicholas, 
 after a moment spent in silent thought, searched the 
 room for the hand-bell, which then made the mode of 
 communication between the master and domestics. 
 Not finding this necessary luxury, he contrived at last 
 to make Madge hear his voice from her subterranean 
 retreat; and, on her arrival, sent her in quest of Sibyll. 
 
 * For Richard III.'s love of rnusic, and patronage of musi- 
 cians and minstrels, see the discriminating character of that 
 prince in Sharon Turner's " History of England," vol. iv. p. 66.
 
 106 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 The answer he received was, that Mistress Sibyll 
 was ill, and unable to see him. Alwyn looked discon- 
 certed at this intelligence, but, drawing from his girdle 
 a small gipsire, richly broidered, he prayed Madge to 
 deliver it to her young mistress, and inform her that it 
 was the fruit of the commission with which she had 
 honoured him. 
 
 " It is passing strange," said he, pacing the hall 
 alone " passing strange, that the poor child should 
 have taken such hold on me. After all, she would be 
 a bad wife for a plain man like me. Tush! that is the 
 trader's thought all over. Have I brought no fresher 
 feeling out of my fair village-green? Would it not be 
 sweet to work for her, and rise in life, with her by my 
 side? And these girls of the city so prim and so 
 brainless! as well marry a painted puppet. Sibyll! 
 Am I dement? Stark wode? What have I to do 
 with girls and marriage? Hump! I marvel what 
 Marmaduke still thinks of her and she of him." 
 
 While Alwyn thus soliloquised, the Nevile having 
 hastily arranged his dress, and laden himself with the 
 moneys his mails contained, summoned old Madge to 
 receive his largess, and to conduct him to Warner's 
 chamber, in order to proffer his farewell. 
 
 With somewhat of a timid step he followed the old 
 woman (who kept muttering thanks and benedicites, 
 as she eyed the coin in her palm) up the rugged stairs, 
 and for the first time knocked at the door of the stu- 
 dent's sanctuary. No answer came. "Eh, sir! you 
 must enter," said Madge; "an' you fired a bombard 
 under his ear he would not heed you." So, suiting 
 the action to the word, she threw open the door, and 
 closed it behind him, as Marmaduke entered. 
 
 The room was filled with smoke, through which
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 107 
 
 mirky atmosphere the clear red light of the burning 
 charcoal peered out steadily like a Cyclop's eye. A 
 small, but heaving, regular, labouring, continuous 
 sound, as of a fairy hammer, smote the young man's 
 ear. But, as his gaze, accustoming itself to the atmos- 
 phere, searched around, he could not perceive what 
 was its cause. Adam Warner was standing in the 
 middle of the room, his arms folded, and contemplat- 
 ing something at a little distance, which Marmaduke 
 could not accurately distinguish. The youth took 
 courage, and approached. " Honoured mine host," 
 said he, " I thank thee for hospitality and kindness, I 
 crave pardon for disturbing thee in thy incanta 
 ehem! thy thy studies, and I come to bid thee fare- 
 well." 
 
 Adam turned round with a puzzled, absent air, as if 
 scarcely recognising his guest; at length, as his recol- 
 lection slowly came back to him, he smiled graciously, 
 and said : " Good youth, thou art richly welcome to 
 what little it was in my power to do for thee. Perad- 
 venture, a time may come when they who seek the 
 roof of Adam Warner may find less homely cheer a 
 less rugged habitation for look you ! " he exclaimed, 
 suddenly, with a burst of irrepressible enthusiasm and 
 laying his hand on Nevile's arm, as, through all the 
 smoke and grime that obscured his face, flashed the 
 ardent soul of the triumphant Inventor, "look you! 
 since you have been in this house, one of my 
 great objects is well-nigh matured achieved. Come 
 hither," and he dragged the wondering Marmaduke to 
 his model, or Eureka, as Adam had fondly named his 
 contrivance. The Nevile then perceived that it was 
 from the interior of this machine that the sound which 
 had startled him, arose; to his eye the THING was un-
 
 io8 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 couth and hideous; from the jaws of an iron serpent, 
 that, wreathing round it, rose on high with erect crest, 
 gushed a rapid volume of black smoke, and a damp 
 spray fell around. A column of iron in the centre 
 kept in perpetual and regular motion, rising and sink- 
 ing successively, as the whole mechanism within 
 seemed alive with noise and action. 
 
 " The Syracusan asked an inch of earth, beyond the 
 earth, to move the earth," said Adam ; " I stand in the 
 world, and lo! with this engine the world shall one 
 day be moved." 
 
 "Holy Mother!" faltered Marmaduke; "I pray 
 thee, dread sir, to ponder well ere thou attemptest any 
 such sports with the habitation in which every woman's 
 son is so concerned. Bethink thee, that if in moving 
 the world thou shouldst make any mistake, it 
 would " 
 
 " Now stand there and attend," interrupted Adam, 
 who had not heard one word of this judicious exhorta- 
 tion. 
 
 "Pardon me, terrible sir!" exclaimed Marmaduke, 
 in great trepidation, and retreating rapidly to the door; 
 " but I have heard that the fiends are mighty malig- 
 nant to all lookers-on, not initiated." 
 
 While he spoke, fast gushed the smoke, heavily 
 heaved the fairy hammers, up and down, down and 
 up, sank or rose the column, with its sullen sound. 
 The young man's heart sank to the soles of his feet. 
 
 " In deed and in truth," he stammered out, " I am 
 but a dolt in these matters; I wish thee all success 
 compatible with the weal of a Christian, and bid thee, 
 in sad humility, good day : " and he added, in a whis- 
 per "the Lord's forgiveness! Amen!" 
 
 Marmaduke, then, fairly rushed through the open
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 109 
 
 door, and hurried out of the chamber as fast as 
 possible. 
 
 He breathed more freely as he descended the stairs. 
 " Before I would call that grey carle my father, or his 
 child my wife, may I feel all the hammers of the elves 
 and sprites he keeps tortured within that ugly little 
 prison-house playing a death's march on my body. 
 Holy St. Dunstan, the timbrel-girls came in time! 
 They say these wizards always have fair daughters, 
 and their love can be no blessing! " 
 
 As he thus muttered, the door of Sibyll's chamber 
 opened, and she stood before him at the threshold. 
 Her countenance was very pale, and bore evidence of 
 weeping. There was a silence on both sides, which 
 the girl was the first to break. 
 
 "So, Madge tells me, thou art about to leave us?" 
 
 " Yes, gentle maiden ! I I that is, my Lord of 
 Warwick has summoned me. I wish and pray for all 
 blessings on thee! and and if ever it be mine to 
 serve or aid thee, it will be that is verily, my tongue 
 falters, but my heart that is fare thee well, maiden! 
 Would thou hadst a less wise father; and so may the 
 saints (St. Anthony especially whom the Evil One 
 was parlous afraid of) guard and keep thee! " 
 
 With this strange and incoherent address, Marma- 
 duke left the maiden standing by the threshold of her 
 miserable chamber. Hurrying into the hall, he sum- 
 moned Alwyn from his meditations, and, giving the 
 gittern to Madge, with an injunction to render it to her 
 mistress, with his greeting and service, he vaulted 
 lightly on his steed; the steady and more sober Alwyn 
 mounted his palfrey with slow care and due caution. 
 As the air of spring waved the fair locks of the young 
 cavalier, as the good horse caracolled under his lithe-
 
 no THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 some weight, his natural temper of mind, hardy, health- 
 ful, joyous, and world-awake, returned to him. The 
 image of Sibyll and her strange father fled from his 
 thoughts like sickly dreams.
 
 BOOK II 
 
 THE KING'S COURT, 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 EARL WARWICK THE KING-MAKER 
 
 The young men entered the Strand, which, thanks 
 to the profits of a toll-bar, was a passable road for 
 equestrians, studded towards the river, as we have 
 before observed, with stately and half-fortified man- 
 sions ; while on the opposite side, here and there, 
 were straggling houses of a humbler kind the medi- 
 eval villas of merchant and trader (for, from the 
 earliest period since the Conquest, the Londoners had 
 delight in such retreats), surrounded with blossoming 
 orchards,* and adorned in front with the fleur-de-lis, 
 emblem of the vain victories of renowned Agincourt. 
 But by far the greater portion of the road northward, 
 stretched, unbuilt upon, towards a fair chain of fields 
 and meadows, refreshed by many brooks, " turning 
 water-mills with a pleasant noise." High rose, on the 
 thoroughfare, the famous Cross, at which " the Judges 
 Itinerant whilome sate, without London." f There, 
 hallowed and solitary, stood the inn for the penitent 
 pilgrims, who sought " the murmuring runnels " of 
 St. Clement's healing well ; for in this neighbourhood, 
 
 * Fitzstephen. " On all sides, without the suburbs, are the 
 citizens' gardens and orchards," &c. 
 t Stowe. 
 
 in
 
 112 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 even from the age of the Roman, springs of crystal 
 wave, and salubrious virtue, received the homage of 
 credulous disease. Through the gloomy arches of 
 the Temple Gate and Lud, our horsemen wound their 
 way, and finally arrived in safety at Marmaduke's 
 hostelrie in the East Chepe. Here Marmaduke found 
 the decorators of his comely person already assem- 
 bled. The simpler yet more manly fashions he had 
 taken from the provinces were now exchanged for an 
 attire worthy the kinsman of the great minister of a 
 court unparalleled, since the reign of William the 
 Red King, for extravagant gorgeousness of dress. 
 His corset was of the finest cloth, sown with seed 
 pearls ; above it, the lawn shirt, worn without collar, 
 partially appeared, fringed with gold; over this was 
 loosely hung a super-tunic of crimson sarcenet, 
 slashed and pounced with a profusion of fringes. His 
 velvet cap, turned up at the sides, extended in a point 
 far over the forehead. His hose under which appel- 
 lation is to be understood what serves us of the mod- 
 ern day both for stockings and pantaloons were of 
 white cloth, and his shoes, very narrow, were curi- 
 ously carved into chequer work at the instep, and tied 
 with bobbins of gold thread, turning up, like skates 
 at the extremity, three inches in length. His dagger 
 was suspended by a slight silver-gilt chain, and his 
 girdle contained a large gipsire, or pouch, of embossed 
 leather, richly gilt. 
 
 And this dress, marvellous as it seemed to the 
 Nevile, the tailor gravely assured him was far under 
 the mark of the highest fashion, and that an' the noble 
 youth had been a knight, the shoes would have 
 stretched at least three inches farther over the natural 
 length of the feet, the placard have shone with jewels,
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 113 
 
 and the tunic luxuriated in flowers of damacene. Even 
 as it was, however, Marmaduke felt a natural diffi- 
 dence of his habiliments, which cost him a round 
 third of his whole capital. And no bride ever unveiled 
 herself with more shamefaced bashfulness than did 
 Marmaduke Nevile experience when he remounted 
 his horse, and, taking leave of his foster-brother, bent 
 his way to Warwick Lane, where the earl lodged. 
 
 The narrow streets were, however, crowded with 
 equestrians, whose dress eclipsed his own, some bend- 
 ing their way to the tower, some to the palaces of the 
 Flete. Carriages there were none, and only tw r ice he 
 encountered the huge litters, in which some aged 
 prelate or some high-born dame veiled greatness from 
 the day. But the frequent vistas to the river gave 
 glimpses of the gay boats and barges that crowded the 
 Thames, which was then the principal thoroughfare for 
 every class, but more especially the noble. The ways 
 were fortunately dry and clean for London; though 
 occasionally deep holes and furrows in the road men- 
 aced perils to the unwary horseman. The streets 
 themselves might well disappoint in splendour the 
 stranger's eye ; for although, viewed at a distance, 
 ancient London was incalculably more picturesque 
 and stately than the modern ; yet when fairly in its 
 tortuous labyrinths, it seemed to those who had im- 
 proved the taste by travel, the meanest and the mirk- 
 iest capital of Christendom. The streets were marvel- 
 lously narrow, the upper stories, chiefly of wood, 
 projecting far over the lower, which were formed of 
 mud and plaster. The shops were pitiful booths, and the 
 'prentices standing at the entrance bare-headed and 
 cap in hand, and lining the passages, as the old French 
 VOL. I. 8
 
 114 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 writer avers comme idoles,* kept up an eternal din 
 with their clamorous invitations, often varied by pert 
 witticisms on some churlish passenger, or loud vitu- 
 perations of each other. The whole ancient family of 
 the London criers were in full bay. Scarcely had 
 Marmaduke's ears recovered the shock of " Hot peas- 
 cods all hot," than they were saluted with " mack- 
 erel," " sheep's feet hot sheep's feet." At the 
 smaller taverns stood the inviting vociferators of 
 " cock-pie," " ribs of beef hot beef," while, blended 
 with these multitoned discords, whined the vielle or 
 primitive hurdy-gurdy, screamed the pipe, twanged 
 the harp, from every quarter where the thirsty paused 
 to drink, or the idler stood to gape.f 
 
 Through this Babel, Marmaduke at last slowly 
 wound his way, and arrived before the mighty man- 
 sion in which the chief baron of England held his 
 state. 
 
 As he dismounted and resigned his steed to the 
 servitor hired for him by Alwyn, Marmaduke paused 
 a moment, struck by the disparity, common as it was 
 to eyes more accustomed to the metropolis, between 
 the stately edifice and the sordid neighbourhood. He 
 had not noticed this so much, when he had repaired 
 to the earl's house on his first arrival in London 
 for his thoughts then had been too much bewildered 
 by the general bustle and novelty of the scene, but 
 now it seemed to him, that he better comprehended 
 the homage accorded to a great noble in surveying, 
 at a glance, the immeasurable eminence to which he 
 was elevated above his fellow-men by wealth and rank. 
 
 Far on either side of the wings of the earl's abode 
 stretched, in numerous deformity, sheds rather than 
 * Perim. t See Lydgate's " London Lyckpenny."
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 115 
 
 houses, of broken plaster and crazy timbers. But, 
 here and there, were open places of public reception, 
 crowded with the lower followers of the puissant 
 chief; and the eye rested on many idle groups of 
 sturdy swash-bucklers, some half-clad in armour, 
 some in rude jerkins of leather, before the doors of 
 these resorts, as others, like bees about a hive, 
 swarmed in and out with a perpetual hum. 
 
 The exterior of Warwick House was of a grey, but 
 dingy stone, and presented a half-fortified and formi- 
 dable appearance. The windows, or rather loop-holes 
 towards the street, were few, and strongly barred. 
 The black and massive arch of the gateway yawned 
 between two huge square towers ; and from a yet 
 higher, but slender tower on the inner side, the flag 
 gave the " White Bear and Ragged Staff " to the 
 smoky air. Still, under the portal as he entered, hung 
 the grate of the portcullis, and the square court which 
 he saw before him swarmed with the more immediate 
 retainers of the earl, in scarlet jackets, wrought with 
 their chieftain's cognisance. A man of gigantic girth 
 and stature, who officiated as porter, leaning against 
 the wall under the arch, now emerged from the 
 shadow, and with sufficient civility demanded the 
 young visitor's name and business. On hearing the 
 former, he bowed low as he doffed his cap, and con- 
 ducted Marmaduke through the first quadrangle. 
 The two sides to the right and left were devoted to 
 the offices and rooms of retainers, of whom no less 
 than six hundred, not to speak of the domestic and 
 more orderly retinue, attested the state of the Last of 
 the English Barons on his visits to the capital. Far 
 from being then, as now, the object of the great to 
 thrust all that belongs to the service of the house
 
 n6 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 out of sight, it was their pride to strike awe into the 
 visitor by the extent of accommodation afforded to 
 their followers: some seated on benches of stone 
 ranged along the walls some grouped in the centre 
 of the court some lying at length upon the two ob- 
 long patches of what had been turf, till worn away 
 by frequent feet this domestic army filled the young 
 Nevile with an admiration far greater than the gay 
 satins of the knights and nobles who had gathered 
 round the lord of Montagu and Northumberland at 
 the pastime-ground. 
 
 This assemblage, however, were evidently under a 
 rude discipline of their own. They were neither noisy 
 nor drunk. They made way with surly obeisance as 
 the cavalier passed, and closing on his track like some 
 horde of wild cattle, gazed after him with earnest si- 
 lence, and then turned once more to their indolent 
 whispers with each other. 
 
 And now, Nevile entering the last side of the quad- 
 rangle, the huge hall, divided from the passage by a 
 screen of stone fretwork, so fine as to attest the hand 
 of some architect in the reign of Henry III., stretched 
 to his right ; and so vast, in truth, it was, that though 
 more than fifty persons were variously engaged there- 
 in, their number was lost in the immense space ; of 
 these, at one end of the longer and lower table be- 
 neath the dais, some squires of good dress and mien 
 were engaged at chess or dice ; others were confer- 
 ring in the gloomy embrasures of the casements ; 
 some walking to and fro ; others gathered round the 
 shovel-board. At the entrance of this hall, the porter 
 left Marmaduke, after exchanging a whisper with a 
 gentleman whose dress eclipsed the Nevile's in splen- 
 dour ; and this latter personage, who, though of high
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 117 
 
 birth, did not disdain to perform the office of chamber- 
 lain, or usher, to the king-like earl, advanced to Mar- 
 maduke with a smile, and said 
 
 " My lord expects you, sir, and has appointed this 
 time to receive you, that you may not be held back 
 from his presence by the crowds that crave audience 
 in the forenoon. Please to follow me ! " This said, 
 the gentleman slowly preceded the visitor, now and 
 then stopping to exchange a friendly word with the 
 various parties he passed in his progress; for the 
 urbanity which Warwick possessed himself, his policy 
 inculcated as a duty on all who served him. A small 
 door at the other extremity of the hall admitted into 
 an ante-room, in which some half-score pages, the 
 sons of knights and barons, were gathered round an 
 old warrior, placed at their head as a sort of tutor, 
 to instruct them in all knightly accomplishments ; 
 and beckoning forth one of these youths from the 
 ring, the earl's chamberlain said, with a profound 
 reverence " Will you be pleased, my young lord, to 
 conduct your cousin, Master Marmaduke Nevile, to 
 the earl's presence." The young gentleman eyed Mar- 
 maduke with a supercilious glance. 
 
 " Marry ! " said he, pertly, " if a man born in the 
 north were to feed all his cousins, he would soon have 
 a tail as long as my uncle, the stout earl's. Come, sir 
 cousin, this way." 
 
 And without tarrying even to give Nevile informa- 
 tion of the name and quality of his new-found rela- 
 tion who was no less than Lord Montagu's son, the 
 sole male heir to the honours of that mighty family, 
 though now learning the apprenticeship of chivalry 
 amongst his uncle's' pages the boy passed before 
 Marmaduke with a saunter, that, had they been in
 
 n8 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 plain Westmoreland, might have cost him a cuff from 
 the stout hand of the indignant elder cousin. He 
 raised the tapestry at one end of the room, and as- 
 cending a short flight of broad stairs, knocked gently 
 on the panels of an arched door sunk deep in the 
 walls. 
 
 " Enter ! " said a clear, loud voice, and the next 
 moment Marmaduke was in the presence of the King- 
 maker. 
 
 He heard his guide pronounce his name, and saw 
 him smile maliciously at the momentary embarrass- 
 ment the young man displayed, as the boy passed by 
 Marmaduke, and vanished. The Earl of Warwick 
 was seated near a door that opened upon an inner 
 court, or rather garden, which gave communication 
 to the river. The chamber was painted in the style of 
 Henry III., with huge figures representing the battle 
 of Hastings, or rather, for there were many separate 
 pieces, the conquest of Saxon England. Over each 
 head, to enlighten the ignorant, the artist had taken 
 the precaution to insert a label, which told the name 
 and the subject. The ceiling was groined, vaulted, and 
 emblazoned with the richest gilding and colours. The 
 chimney-piece (a modern ornament) rose to the roof, 
 and represented in bold reliefs, gilt and decorated, 
 the signing of Magna Charta. The floor was strewed 
 thick with dried rushes, and odorous herbs ; the fur- 
 niture was scanty, but rich. The low-backed chairs, 
 of which there were but four, carved in ebony, had 
 cushions of velvet with fringes of massive gold. A 
 small cupboard, or beaufet, covered with carpets de 
 citir (carpets of gilt and painted leather), of great 
 price, held various quaint and curious ornaments of 
 plate inwrought with precious stones; and beside
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 this a singular contrast on a plain Gothic table lay 
 the helmet, the gauntlets, and the battle-axe of the 
 master, Warwick himself, seated before a large cum- 
 brous desk, was writing but slowly and with pain 
 and he lifted his finger as the Nevile approached, in 
 token of his wish to conclude a task probably little 
 congenial to his tastes. But Marmaduke was grateful 
 for the moments afforded him to recover his self-pos- 
 session, and to examine his kinsman. 
 
 The earl was in the lusty vigour of his age. His 
 hair, of the deepest black, was worn short, as if in dis- 
 dain of the effeminate fashions of the day, and fretted 
 bare from the temples, by the constant and early fric- 
 tion of his helmet, gave to a forehead naturally lofty 
 yet more majestic appearance of expanse and height. 
 His complexion, though dark and sunburnt, glowed 
 with rich health. The beard was closely shaven, and 
 left in all its remarkable beauty the contour of the 
 oval face and strong jaw strong as if clasped in iron. 
 The features were marked and aquiline, as was com- 
 mon to those of Norman blood. The form spare, but 
 of prodigious width and depth of chest, the more ap- 
 parent from the fashion of the short surcoat, which 
 was thrown back, and left in broad expanse a placard, 
 not of holiday velvet and satins, but of steel polished 
 as a mirror, and inlaid with gold. And now, as con- 
 cluding his task, the earl rose and motioned Marma- 
 duke to a stool by his side, his great stature, which, 
 from the length of his limbs, was not so observable 
 when he sat, actually startled his guest. Tall as Mar- 
 maduke was himself, the earl towered* above him, 
 
 * The faded portrait of Richard Nevile, Earl of Warwick, 
 in the Rous Roll, preserved at the Herald's College, does 
 justice, at least, to the heipht and majesty of his stature. The 
 portrait of Edward IV. is the only one in that long series 
 which at all rivals the stately proportions of the King-maker.
 
 120 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 with his high, majestic, smooth, unvvrinkled fore- 
 head, like some Paladin of the rhyme of poet or 
 romancer; and, perhaps, not only in this masculine 
 advantage, but in the rare and harmonious combina- 
 tion of colossal strength with graceful lightness, a 
 more splendid union of all the outward qualities we 
 are inclined to give to the heroes of old, never dazzled 
 the eye, or impressed the fancy. But even this effect 
 of mere person was subordinate to that which this 
 eminent nobleman created upon his inferiors, at 
 least, by a manner so void of all arrogance, yet of all 
 condescension, so simple, open, cordial, and herolike, 
 that Marmaduke Nevile, peculiarly alive to external 
 impressions, and subdued and fascinated by the earl's 
 first word, and that word was " Welcome ! " dropped 
 on his knee, and kissing the hand extended to him, 
 said " Noble kinsman, in thy service, and for thy 
 sake, let me live and die ! " Had the young man been 
 prepared by the subtlest master of court-craft for this 
 interview, so important to his fortunes, he could not 
 have advanced a hundredth part so far with the great 
 earl, as he did by that sudden, frank burst of genuine 
 emotion ; for Warwick was extremely sensitive to the 
 admiration he excited vain or proud of it, it matters 
 not which grateful as a child for love, and inexor- 
 able as a woman for slight or insult : in rude ages, one 
 sex has often the qualities of the other. 
 
 " Thou hast thy father's warm heart and hasty 
 thought, Marmaduke," 'said Warwick, raising him ; 
 "and now he is gone where, we trust, brave men, 
 shrived of their sins, look down upon us, who should 
 be thy friend but Richard Nevile ? So so yes let 
 me look at thee. Ha ! stout Guy's honest face, every 
 line of it ; but to the girls, perhaps, comelier, for
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 121 
 
 wanting a scar or two. Never blush thou shalt win 
 the scars yet. So thou hast a letter from thy father ? " 
 
 " It is here, noble lord." 
 
 " And why," said the earl, cutting the silk with his 
 dagger " why hast thou so long hung back from pre- 
 senting it? But I need not ask thee. These uncivil 
 times have made kith and kin doubt worse of each 
 other than thy delay did of me. Sir Guy's mark, sure 
 eno'! Brave old man! I loved him the better, for 
 that, like me, the sword was more meet than the pen 
 for his bold hand." Here Warwick scanned, with 
 some slowness, the lines dictated by the dead to the 
 priest; and when he had done, he laid the letter re- 
 spectfully on his desk, and bowing his head over it, 
 muttered to himself it might be an Ave for the 
 deceased. " Well," he said, reseating himself, and 
 again motioning Marmaduke to follow his example 
 " thy father was, in sooth, to blame for the side he 
 took in the Wars. What son of the Norman could 
 bow knee or vale plume to that shadow of a king 
 Henry of Windsor? and, for his bloody wife, she 
 knew no more of an Englishman's pith and pride than 
 I know of the rhymes and roundels of old Rene", her 
 father. Guy Nevile good Guy many a day in my 
 boyhood did he teach me how to bear my lance at the 
 crest, and direct my sword at the mail-joints. He 
 was cunning at fence thy worshipful father but I 
 was ever a bad scholar; and my dull arm, to this 
 day, hopes more from its strength than its craft." 
 
 " I have heard it said, noble earl, that the stoutest 
 hand can scarcely lift your battle-axe." 
 
 "Fables! romaunt!" answered the earl, smiling; 
 " there it lies go and lift it." 
 
 Marmaduke went to the table, and, though with
 
 i22 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 some difficulty, raised and swung this formidable 
 weapon. 
 
 " By my halidame, well swung, cousin mine ! Its 
 use depends not on the strength, but the practice. 
 Why look you now, there is the boy Richard of 
 Gloucester, who comes not up to thy shoulder, and 
 by dint of custom each day can wield mace or axe 
 with as much ease as a jester doth his lathe-sword. 
 Ah! trust me, Marmaduke the York House is a 
 princely one ; and if we must have a king, we barons, 
 by stout St. George, let no meaner race ever furnish 
 our lieges. But to thyself, Marmaduke what are thy 
 views and thy wishes?" 
 
 " To be one of thy following, noble Warwick." 
 
 " I thank and accept thee, young Nevile ; but thoit 
 hast heard that I am about to leave England, and in 
 the meantime thy youth would run danger without a 
 guide." The earl paused a moment, and resumed. 
 " My brother of Montagu showed thee cold counte- 
 nance ; but a word from me will win thee his grace 
 and favour. What sayest thou wilt thou be one of 
 his gentlemen? If so, I will tell thee the qualities a 
 man must have: a discreet tongue, a quick eye, the 
 last fashion in hood and shoe-bobbins, a perfect seat 
 on thy horse, a light touch for the gittern, a voice 
 for a love-song, and " 
 
 " I have none of these, save the horsemanship, 
 gracious my lord ; and if thou wilt not receive me thy- 
 self, I will not burden my Lord of Montagu and 
 Northumberland." 
 
 " Hot and quick ! No ! John of Montagu would 
 not suit thee, nor thou him. But how to provide for 
 thee till my return, I know not." 
 
 " Dare I not hope, then, to make one of your em- 
 bassage, noble earl ? "
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 123 
 
 Warwick bent his brows, and looked at him in sur- 
 prise. 
 
 " Of our embassage ! Why, thou art haughty, in- 
 deed ! Nay, and so a soldier's son and a Nevile should 
 be ! I blame thee not ; but I could not make thee one 
 of n\y train, without creating a hundred enemies to 
 me (but that's nothing) and to thee, which were 
 much. Knowest thou not that there is scarce a gen- 
 tleman of my train below the state of a peer's son, 
 and that I have made, by refusals, malcontents eno', 
 as it is yet, hold! there is my learned brother, the 
 Archbishop of York. Knowest thou Latin and the 
 schools ? " 
 
 " 'Fore Heaven, my lord," said the Nevile, bluntly, 
 " I see already I had best go back to green West- 
 moreland, for I am as unfit for his grace the arch- 
 bishop, as I am for my Lord Montagu." 
 
 " Well, then," said the earl, drily, " since thou hast 
 not yet station enough for my train, nor glosing for 
 Northumberland, nor wit and lere for the archbishop, 
 I suppose, my poor youth, I must e'en make you only 
 a gentleman about the king ! It is not a post so sure 
 of quick rising and full gipsires as one about myself, 
 or my brethren, but it will be less envied, and is good 
 for thy first essay. How goes the clock? Oh! here 
 is Nick Alwyn's new horologe. He tells me that the 
 English will soon rival the Dutch* in these baubles. 
 The more the pity ! our red-faced yeomen, alas, are 
 fast sinking into lank-jawed mechanics ! We shall 
 
 * Clockwork appears to have been introduced into England 
 in the reign of Edward III., when three Dutch horologers 
 were invited over from Delft. They must soon have passed 
 into common use, for Chaucer thus familiarly speaks of 
 them : 
 
 " Full sickerer was his crowing in his loge, 
 Than is a clock or any abbey orloge."
 
 124 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 find the king in his garden within the next half-hour. 
 Thou shalt attend me." 
 
 Marmaduke expressed, with more feeling than elo- 
 quence, the thanks he owed for an offer that, he was 
 about to say, exceeded his hopes, but he had already, 
 since his departure from Westmoreland, acquired 
 sufficient wit to think twice of his words. And so 
 eagerly, at that time, did the youth of the nobility 
 contend for the honour of posts about the person of 
 Warwick, and even of his brothers, and so strong was 
 the belief that the earl's power to make or to mar 
 fortune was all-paramount in England, that even a 
 place in the king's household was considered an in- 
 ferior appointment to that which made Warwick the 
 immediate patron and protector. This was more 
 especially the case amongst the more haughty and 
 ancient gentry, since the favour shown .by Edward to 
 the relations of his wife, and his own indifference to 
 the rank and birth of his associates. Warwick had 
 therefore spoken with truth when he expressed a 
 comparative pity for the youth, whom he could not 
 better provide for than by a place about the court oi 
 his sovereign ! 
 
 The earl then drew from Marmaduke some account 
 of his early training, his dependence on his brother, 
 his adventures at the archery-ground, his misad- 
 venture with the robbers, and even his sojourn with 
 Warner though Marmaduke was discreetly silent as 
 to the very existence of Sibyll. The earl, in the mean 
 while, walked to and fro the chamber with a light, 
 careless stride, every moment pausing to laugh at the 
 frank simplicity of his kinsman, or to throw in some 
 shrewd remark, which he cast purposely in the rough 
 Westmoreland dialect; for no man ever attains to
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 125 
 
 the popularity that rejoiced or accursed the Earl of 
 Warwick, without a tendency to broad and familiar 
 humour, without a certain commonplace of character 
 in its shallower and more every-day properties. This 
 charm always great in the great Warwick pos- 
 sessed to perfection ; and in him such was his native 
 and unaffected majesty of bearing, and such the 
 splendour that surrounded his name it never seemed 
 coarse or unfamiliar, but " everything he did became 
 him best." Marmaduke had just brought his narra- 
 tive to a conclusion, when, after a slight tap at the 
 door, which Warwick did not hear, two fair young 
 forms bounded joyously in, and, not seeing the 
 stranger, threw themselves upon Warwick's breast 
 with the caressing familiarity of infancy. 
 
 " Ah, father," said the elder of these two girls, as 
 Warwick's hand smoothed her hair fondly, " you 
 promised you would take us in your barge to see the 
 sports on the river, and now it will be too late." 
 
 " Make your peace with your young cousins here," 
 said the earl, turning to Marmaduke ; " you will cost 
 them an hour's joyaunce. This is my eldest daughter, 
 Isabel; and this soft-eyed, pale-cheeked damozel 
 too loyal for a leaf of the red rose is the Lady Anne." 
 
 The two girls had started from their father's arms 
 at the first address to Marmaduke, and their counte- 
 nances had relapsed from their caressing and childlike 
 expression, into all the stately demureness with which 
 they had been brought up to regard a stranger. 
 Howbeit, this reserve, to which he was accustomed, 
 awed Marmaduke less than the alternate gaiety and 
 sadness of the wilder Sibyll, and he addressed them 
 with all the gallantry to the exercise of which he had 
 been reared; concluding his compliments with a dec-
 
 136 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 laration that he would rather forego the advantage 
 proffered him by the earl's favour with the king, 
 than foster one obnoxious and ungracious memory in 
 damozels so fair and honoured. 
 
 A haughty smile flitted for a moment over the 
 proud young face of Isabel Nevile ; but the softer 
 Anne blushed, and drew bashfully behind her sister. 
 
 As yet these girls, born for the highest and fated to 
 the most wretched fortunes, were in all the bloom of 
 earliest youth ; but the difference between their char- 
 acters might be already observable in their mien and 
 countenance. Isabel, of tall and commanding stat- 
 ure, had some resemblance to her father, in her aqui- 
 line features, rich, dark hair, and the lustrous brill- 
 iancy of her eyes ; while Anne, less striking, yet not 
 less lovely, of smaller size and slighter proportions, 
 bore in her pale, clear face, her dove-like eyes, and 
 her gentle brow, an expression of yielding meekness 
 not unmixed with melancholy, which, conjoined with 
 an exquisite symmetry of features, could not fail of ex- 
 citing interest where her sister commanded admira- 
 tion. Not a word, however, from either did Marma- 
 cluke abstract in return for his courtesies, nor did 
 either he or the earl seem to expect it ; for the latter, 
 seating himself and drawing Anne on his knee, while 
 Isabella walked with stately grace towards the table 
 that bore her father's warlike accoutrements, and 
 played, as it were, unconsciously with the black plume 
 on his black burgonot, said to Nevile 
 
 " Well, thou hast seen enough of the Lancastrian 
 raptrils to make thee true to the Yorkists. I would 
 I could say as much for the king himself, who is al- 
 ready crowding the court with that venomous faction, 
 in honour of Dame Elizabeth Grey born Mistress
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS i?7 
 
 Woodville, and now Queen of England. Ha! my 
 proud Isabel, thou wouldst have better filled the 
 throne that thy father built ! " 
 
 And at these words a proud flash broke from the 
 earl's dark eyes, betraying even to Marmaduke the 
 secret of perhaps his earliest alienation from Edward 
 IV. 
 
 Isabella pouted her rich lip, but said nothing. " As 
 for thee, Anne," continued the earl, " it is a pity that 
 monks cannot marry thou wouldst have suited some 
 sober priest better than a mailed knight. 'Fore 
 George, I would not ask thee to buckle my baldrick 
 when the war-steeds were snorting, but I would trust 
 Isabel with the links of my hauberk." 
 
 " Nay, father," said the low timid voice of Anne, 
 " if thou wert going to danger, I could be brave in all 
 that could guard thee ! " 
 
 " Why, that's my girl kiss me ! Thou hast a look 
 of thy mother now so thou hast ! and I will not chide 
 thee the next time I hear thee muttering soft treason, 
 in pity of Henry of Windsor." 
 
 " Is he not to be pitied ? Crown, wife, son, and 
 Earl Warwick's stout arm lost lost ! " 
 
 " No ! " said Isabel, suddenly ; " no, sweet sister 
 Anne, and fie on thee for the words ! He lost all, 
 because he had neither the hand of a knight nor the 
 heart of a man ! For the rest Margaret of Anjou, 
 or her butchers, beheaded our father's father ! " 
 
 " And may God and St. George forget me, when I 
 forget those grey and gory hairs ! " exclaimed the 
 earl ; and, putting away the, Lady Anne somewhat 
 roughly, he made a stride across the room, and stood 
 by his hearth. " And yet Edward, the son of Richard 
 of York, who fell by my father's side he forgets
 
 128 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 he forgives ! And the minions of Rivers the Lancas- 
 trian tread the heels of Richard of Warwick I " 
 
 At this unexpected turn in the conversation, pecu- 
 liarly unwelcome, as it may be supposed, to the son of 
 one who had fought on the Lancastrian side, in the 
 very battle referred to, Marmaduke felt somewhat un- 
 easy, and, turning to the Lady Anne, he said, with 
 the gravity of wounded pride, " I owe more to my 
 lord, your father, than I even wist of how much he 
 must have overlooked to " 
 
 " Not so ! " interrupted Warwick, who overheard 
 him " not so ; thou wrongest me ! Thy father was 
 shocked at those butcheries thy father recoiled from 
 that accursed standard thy father was of a stock an- 
 cient and noble as my own ! But, these Woodvilles ! 
 tush ! my passion overmasters me. We will go to 
 the king it is time." 
 
 Warwick here rung the hand-bell on his table, and 
 on the entrance of his attendant gentleman, bade him 
 see that the barge was in readiness ; then, beckoning 
 to his kinsman, and with a nod to his daughters, he 
 caught up his plumed cap, and passed at once into 
 the garden. 
 
 " Anne," said Isabel, when the two girls were alone, 
 "thou hast vexed my father, and what marvel? If 
 the Lancastrians can be pitied, the Earl of Warwick 
 must be condemned ! " 
 
 " Unkind ! " said Anne, shedding tears ; " I can pity 
 woe and mischance, without blaming those whose 
 hard duty it might be to achieve them." 
 
 " In good sooth, cannot I ! Thou wouldst pity and 
 pardon till thou leftst no distinction between foeman 
 and friend liefe and loathing. Be it mine, like my 
 great father, to love and to hate 1 "
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 129 
 
 " Yet why art them so attached to the White 
 Rose ? " said Anne, stung, if not to malice, at least to 
 archness. " Thou knowest my father's nearest wish 
 was that his eldest daughter might be betrothed to 
 King Edward. Dost thou not pay good for evil when 
 thou seest no excellence out of the House of York? " 
 
 " Saucy Anne," answered Isabel, with a half smile, 
 " I am not raught by thy shafts, for I was a child for 
 the nurses, when King Edward sought a wife for his 
 love. But were I chafed as I may be vain enough 
 to know myself whom should I blame? Not the 
 king, but the Lancastrian who witched him ! " 
 
 She paused a moment, and, looking away, added in 
 a low tone " Didst thou hear, sister Anne, if the 
 DuVe of Clarence visited my father the forenoon? " 
 
 " Ah ! Isabel Isabel ! " 
 
 " Ah ! sister Anne sister Anne ! Wilt thou know 
 all my secrets ere I know them myself?" and Isa- 
 bel, with something of her father's playfulness, put 
 her hand to Anne's laughing lips. 
 
 Meanwhile Warwick, after walking musingly a few 
 moments along the garden, which was formed by plots 
 of sward, bordered with fruit-trees, and white rose 
 trees not yet in blossom, turned to his silent kinsman, 
 and said " Forgive me, cousin mine, for this out- 
 burst against thy brave father's faction ; but when 
 thou hast been a short while at court, thou wilt see 
 where the sore is. Certes, I love this king! " Here 
 his dark face lighted up. " Love him as a king, ay, 
 and as a son ! And who would not love him ; brave 
 as his sword, gallant, and winning, and gracious as 
 the noonday in summer? Besides, I placed him on 
 his throne I honour myself in him ! " 
 
 The earl's stature dilated as he spoke the last sen- 
 VOL. I. Q
 
 130 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 tence, and his hand rested on his dagger hilt. He 
 resumed, with the same daring and incautious can- 
 dour that stamped his dauntless soldier-like nature, 
 " God hath given me no son. Isabel of Warwick had 
 been a mate for William the Norman ; and my grand- 
 son, if heir to his grandsire's soul, should have ruled 
 from the throne of England over the realms of Charle- 
 magne ! But it hath pleased Him, whom the Chris- 
 tian knight alone bows to without shame, to order 
 otherwise. So be it. I forgot my just pretensions 
 forgot my blood, and counselled the king to strength- 
 en his throne with the alliance of Louis XL He re- 
 jected the Princess Bona of Savoy, to marry widow 
 Elizabeth Grey I sorrowed for his sake, and forgave 
 the slight to my counsels. At his prayer I followed 
 the train of his queen, and hushed the proud hearts 
 of our barons to obeisance. But since then, this 
 Dame Woodville, whom I queened, if her husband 
 mated, must dispute this roiaulmo with mine and me 
 a Nevile, now-a-days, must vail his plume to a 
 Woodville ! And not the great barons whom it will 
 suit Edward's policy to win from the Lancastrians 
 not the Exeters and the Somersets but the craven 
 varlets, and lackeys, and dross of the camp false 
 alike to Henry and to Edward are to be fondled into 
 lordships and dandled into power. Young man, I am 
 speaking hotly Richard Nevile never lies nor con- 
 ceals. But I am speaking to a kinsman, am I not? 
 Thou hearest thou wilt not repeat ? " 
 
 " Sooner would I pluck forth my tongue by the 
 roots." 
 
 " Enough ! " returned the earl, with a pleased smile. 
 " When I come from France, I will speak more to 
 thee. Meanwhile be courteous to all men servile to 
 none. Now to the king."
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 131 
 
 So speaking, he shook back his surcoat, drew his 
 cap over his brow, and passed to the broad stairs, at 
 the foot of which fifty rowers, with their badges on 
 their shoulders, waited in the huge barge, gilt richly 
 at prow and stern, and with an awning of silk, 
 wrought with the earl's arms and cognisance. As 
 they pushed off, six musicians, placed towards the 
 helm, began a slow and half Eastern march, which, 
 doubtless, some crusader of the Temple had brought 
 from the cymbals and trumps of Palestine. 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 KING EDWARD THE FOURTH 
 
 The Tower of London, more consecrated to asso- 
 ciations of gloom and blood than those of gaiety and 
 splendour, was, nevertheless, during the reign of Ed- 
 ward IV., the seat of a gallant and gorgeous court. 
 That king, from the first to the last so dear to the 
 people of London, made it his principal residence 
 when in his metropolis ; and its ancient halls and tow- 
 ers were then the scene of many a brawl and gal- 
 liard. As Warwick's barge now approached its huge 
 walls, rising from the river, there was much that might 
 either animate or awe, according to the mood of the 
 spectator. The king's barge, with many lesser craft, 
 reserved for the use of the courtiers, gay with awn- 
 ings and streamers, and painting and gilding, lay be- 
 low the wharfs, not far from the gate of St. Thomas, 
 now called the Traitor's Gate. On the walk raised 
 above the battlemented wall of the inner ward, not 
 only paced the sentries, but there dames and knights 
 were inhaling the noonday breezes, and the gleam of
 
 132 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 their rich dresses of cloth of gold glanced upon the 
 eye at frequent intervals from tower to tower. Over 
 the vast round turret, behind the Traitor's Gate, now 
 called " The Bloody Tower," floated cheerily in the 
 light wind, the royal banner. Near the Lion's Tower, 
 two or three of the keepers of the menagerie, in the 
 king's livery, were leading forth, by a strong chain, 
 the huge white bear that made one of the boasts of 
 the collection, and was an especial favourite with the 
 king and his brother Richard. The sheriffs of Lon-- 
 don were bound to find this grisly minion his chain 
 and his cord, when he deigned to amuse himself with 
 bathing or " fishing " in the river ; and several boats, 
 filled with gape-mouthed passengers, lay near the 
 wharf, to witness the diversions of Bruin. These 
 folk set up a loud shout of " A Warwick ! a War- 
 wick ! " " The stout earl, and God bless him ! " as 
 the gorgeous barge shot towards the fortress. The 
 earl acknowledged their greeting by vailing his 
 plumed cap, and passing the keepers with a merry 
 allusion to their care of his own badge, and a friendly 
 compliment to the grunting bear, he stepped ashore, 
 followed by his kinsman. Now, however, he paused 
 a moment, and a more thoughtful shade passed over 
 his countenance, as, glancing his eye carelessly aloft 
 towards the standard of King Edward, he caught 
 sight of the casement in the neighbouring tower, of 
 the very room in which the sovereign of his youth, 
 Henry the Sixth, was a prisoner, almost within hear- 
 ing of the revels of his successor ; then, with a quick 
 stride, he hurried on through the vast court, and, 
 passing the White Tower, gained the royal lodge. 
 Here, in the great hall, he left his companion, amidst 
 a group of squires and gentlemen, to whom he for-
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS ' 133 
 
 mally presented the Nevile as his friend and kins- 
 man, and was ushered by the deputy-chamberlain 
 (with an apology for the absence of his chief, the Lord 
 Hastings, who had gone abroad to fly his falcon) 
 into the small garden, where Edward was idling away 
 the interval between the noon and evening meals 
 repasts to which already the young king inclined with 
 that intemperate zest and ardour which he carried 
 into all his pleasures, and which finally destroyed 
 the handsomest person, and embruted one of the most 
 vigorous intellects of the age. 
 
 The garden, if bare of flowers, supplied their place 
 by the various and brilliant-coloured garbs of the liv- 
 ing beauties assembled on its straight walks and 
 smooth sward. Under one of those graceful clois- 
 ters, which were the taste of the day, and had been 
 recently built and gaily decorated, the earl was 
 stopped in his path by a group of ladies playing at 
 closheys (ninepins) of ivory;* and one of these fair 
 dames, who excelled the rest in her skill, had just 
 bowled down the central or crowned pin the king 
 of the closheys. This lady, no less a person than 
 Elizabeth, the Queen of England, was then in her 
 thirty-sixth year ten years older than her lord but 
 the peculiar fairness and delicacy of her complexion, 
 still preserved to her beauty the aspect and bloom of 
 youth. From a lofty head-gear, embroidered with 
 fleur-de-lis, round which wreathed a light diadem of 
 pearls, her hair of the pale yellow, considered then the 
 perfection of beauty, flowed so straight and so shin- 
 ing down her shoulders, almost to the knees, that it 
 seemed like a mantle of gold. The baudekin stripes 
 
 * Narrative of Louis of Bruges, Lord Grauthuse. Edited by 
 Sir F. Madden. Archaeologia, 1836.
 
 134 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 (blue and gold) of her tunic attested her royalty. 
 The blue court-pie of satin was bordered with er- 
 mine, and the sleeves, fitting close to an arm of ex- 
 quisite contour, shone with seed-pearls. Her feat- 
 ures were straight and regular, yet would have been 
 insipid, but for an expression rather of cunning than 
 intellect ; and the high arch of her eyebrows, with 
 a slight curve downward of a mouth otherwise beau- 
 tiful, did not improve the expression, by an addition 
 of something supercilious and contemptuous, rather 
 than haughty or majestic. 
 
 " My lord of Warwick," said Elizabeth, pointing to 
 the fallen closhey, " what would my enemies say if 
 they heard I had toppled down the king? " 
 
 "They would content themselves with asking which 
 of your grace's brothers you would place in his 
 stead," answered the hardy earl, unable to restrain 
 the sarcasm. 
 
 The queen blushed, and glanced round her ladies 
 with an eye which never looked direct or straight 
 upon its object, but wandered sidelong with a furtive 
 and stealthy expression, that did much to obtain for 
 her the popular character of falseness and self-seek- 
 ing. Her displeasure was yet more increased by ob- 
 serving the ill-concealed smile which the taunt had 
 called forth. 
 
 " Nay, my lord," she said, after a short pause, " we 
 value the peace of our roiaulme too much for so high 
 an ambition. Were we to make a brother even the 
 prince of the closheys, we should disappoint the hopes 
 of a Nevile." 
 
 The earl disdained pursuing the war of words, and 
 answering, coldly " The Neviles are more famous 
 for making ingrates than asking favours. I leave
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 135 
 
 your highness to the closheys " turned away, and 
 strode towards the king, who, at the opposite end of 
 the garden, was reclining on a bench beside a lady, 
 in whose ear, to judge by her downcast and blushing 
 cheek, he was breathing no unwelcome whispers. 
 
 " Mort-Dieu ! " muttered the earl, who was singu- 
 larly exempt, himself, from the amorous follies of the 
 day, and eyed them with so much contempt that it 
 often obscured his natural downright penetration into 
 character, and never more than when it led him after- 
 wards to underrate the talents of Edward IV. 
 " Mort-Dieu ! if, an hour before the battle of Touton, 
 some wizard had shown me in his glass this glimpse 
 of the gardens of the Tower, that giglet for a queen, 
 and that squire of dames for a king, I had not slain 
 my black destrier (poor Malech !), that I might con- 
 quer or die for Edward Earl of March ! " 
 
 " But see ! " said the lady, looking up from the en- 
 amoured and conquering eyes of the king ; " art thou 
 not ashamed, my lord ? the grim earl comes to chide 
 thee for thy faithlessness to thy queen, whom he loves 
 so well." 
 
 " Pasque-Dieu ! as my cousin Louis of France says 
 or swears," answered the king, with an evident petu- 
 lance in his altered voice " I would that Warwick 
 could be only worn with one's armour! I would as 
 lief try to kiss through my vizor as hear him talk of 
 glory and Touton, and King John and poor Edward 
 II., because I am not always in mail. Go! leave us, 
 sweet bonnibel ! we must brave the bear alone ! " 
 
 The lady inclined her head, drew her hood round 
 her face, and striking into the contrary path from that 
 in which Warwick was slowly striding, gained the 
 group round the queen, whose apparent freedom from
 
 136 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 jealousy, the consequence of cold affections and pru- 
 dent calculation, made one principal cause of the em- 
 pire she held over the powerful mind, but the indolent 
 temper, of the gay and facile Edward. 
 
 The king rose as Warwick now approached him ; 
 and the appearance of these two eminent persons was 
 in singular contrast. Warwick, though richly and 
 even gorgeously attired nay, with all the care which 
 in that age was considered the imperative duty a man 
 of station and birth owed to himself, held in lofty dis- 
 dain whatever vagary of custom tended to cripple the 
 movements or womanise the man. No loose flowing 
 robes no shoon half a yard long no flaunting 
 tawdriness of fringe and aiglet, characterised the ap- 
 pearance of the baron, who, even in peace, gave his 
 dress a half-martial fashion. 
 
 But Edward, who, in common with all the princes 
 of the House of York, carried dress to a passion, had 
 not only re-introduced many of the most effeminate 
 . modes in vogue under William the Red King, but 
 added to them whatever could tend to impart an 
 almost oriental character to the old Norman garb. 
 His gown (a womanly garment which had greatly 
 superseded, with men of the highest rank, not only 
 the mantle but the surcoat) flowed to his heels, 
 trimmed with ermine, and broidered with large flow- 
 ers of crimson wrought upon cloth of gold. Over 
 this he wore a tippet of ermine, and a collar or neck- 
 lace of uncut jewels set in filagree gold ; the nether 
 limbs were, it is true, clad in the more manly fashion 
 of tight-fitting hosen, but the folds of the gown, as 
 the day was somewhat fresh, were drawn around so 
 as to conceal the only part of the dress which really 
 betokened the male sex. To add to this unwarlike
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 137 
 
 attire, Edward's locks, of a rich golden colour, and 
 perfuming the whole air with odours, flowed not in 
 curls, but straight to his shoulders, and the cheek of 
 the fairest lady in his court might have seemed less 
 fair beside the dazzling clearness of a complexion, at 
 once radiant with health and delicate with youth. 
 Yet, in spite of all this effeminacy, the appearance of 
 Edward IV. was not effeminate. From this it was 
 preserved, not only by a stature little less command- 
 ing than that of Warwick himself, and of great 
 strength and breadth of sho'ulder, but also by feat- 
 ures, beautiful indeed, but pre-eminently masculine 
 large and bold in their outline, and evincing by 
 their expression all the gallantry and daring charac- 
 teristic of the hottest soldier, next to Warwick, and, 
 without any exception, the ablest captain, of the age. 
 
 " And welcome a merry welcome, dear Warwick, 
 and cousin mine," said Edward, as Warwick slightly 
 bent his proud knee to his king; " your brother, Lord 
 Montagu, has but left us. Would that our court had 
 the same joyaunce for you as for him." 
 
 " Dear and honoured my liege," answered War- 
 wick, his brow smoothing at once for his affection- 
 ate though hasty and irritable nature was rarely proof 
 against the kind voice and winning smile of his young 
 sovereign " could I ever serve you at the court as 
 I can with the people, you would not complain that 
 John of Montagu was a better courtier than Richard 
 of Warwick. But each to his calling. I depart to- 
 morrow for Calais, and thence to King Louis. And, 
 surely, never envoy or delegate had better chance to 
 be welcome than one empowered to treat of an alli- 
 ance that will bestow on a prince, deserving, I trust, 
 his fortunes, the sister of the bravest sovereign in 
 Christian Europe."
 
 138 
 
 " Now, out on thy flattery, my cousin ; though I 
 must needs own I provoked it by my complaint of thy 
 courtiership. But thou hast learned only half thy 
 business, good Warwick ; and it is well Margaret did 
 not hear thee. Is not the prince of France more to 
 be envied for winning a fair lady than having a fortu- 
 nate soldier for his brother-in-law ? " 
 
 " My liege," replied Warwick, smiling, " thou 
 knowest I am a poor judge of a lady's fair cheek, 
 though indifferently well skilled as to the valour of 
 a warrior's stout arm. Algates, the Lady Margaret 
 is indeed worthy in her excellent beauties to become 
 the mother of brave men ? " 
 
 " And that is all we can wring from thy stern lip, 
 man of iron. Well, that must content us. But to 
 more serious matters." And the king, leaning his 
 hand on the earl's arm, and walking with him slowly 
 to and fro the terrace, continued " Knowest thou 
 not, Warwick, that this French alliance, to which thou 
 hast induced us, displeases sorely our good traders 
 of London ? " 
 
 " Mort-Dieu ! " returned Warwick, bluntly ; " and 
 what business have the flat-caps with the marriage of 
 a king's sister? Is it for them to breathe garlick on 
 the alliances of Bourbons and Plantagenets ? Faugh ! 
 You have spoiled them, good my lord king you have 
 spoiled them by your condescensions. Henry IV. 
 staled not his majesty to consultations with the 
 mayor of his city. Henry V. gave the knighthood 
 of the Bath to the heroes of Agincourt, not to the 
 vendors of cloth and spices." 
 
 " Ah, my poor knights of the Bath ! " said Edward, 
 good-humouredly, " wilt thou never let that sore scar 
 quietly over? Ownest thou not that the men had 
 their merits ? "
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 139 
 
 ** What the merits were, I weet not," answered the 
 earl ; " unless, peradventure, their wives were come- 
 ly and young." 
 
 " Thou wrongest me, Warwick," said the king, 
 carelessly ; " Dame Cook was awry, Dame Philips a 
 grandmother, Dame Jocelyn had lost her front teeth, 
 and Dame Waer saw seven ways at once ! But thou 
 forgettest, man, the occasion of those honours the 
 eve before Elizabeth was crowned and it was policy 
 to make the city of London have a share in her hon- 
 ours. As to the rest," pursued the king, earnestly 
 and with dignity, " I and my house have owed much 
 to London. When the peers of England, save thee 
 and thy friends, stood aloof from my cause, London 
 was ever loyal and true. Thou seest not, my poor 
 Warwick, that these burgesses are growing up into 
 power by the decline of the orders above them. And 
 if the sword is the monarch's appeal for his right, he 
 must look to contented and honoured industry for 
 his buckler in peace. This is policy policy, War- 
 wick ; and Louis XI. will tell thee the same truths, 
 harsh though they grate in a warrior's ear." 
 
 The earl bowed his haughty head, and answered 
 shortly, but with a touching grace " Be it ever thine, 
 noble king, to rule as it likes thee ; and mine to defend 
 with my blood even what I approve not with my brain. 
 But if thou doubtest the wisdom of this alliance, it is 
 not too late yet. Let me dismiss my following, and 
 cross not the seas. Unless thy heart is with the mar- 
 riage, the ties I would form are threads and cobwebs." 
 
 " Nay," returned Edward, irresolutely : " in these 
 great state matters, thy wit is elder than mine; but 
 men do say the Count of Charolois is a mighty lord, 
 and the alliance with Burgundy will be more profit- 
 able to staple and mart."
 
 140 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 " Then, in God's name, so conclude it ! " said the 
 earl, hastily, but with so dark a fire in his eyes that 
 Edward, who was observing him, changed counte- 
 nance ; " only ask me not, my liege, to advance such 
 a marriage. The Count of Charolois knows me as 
 his foe shame were mine did I shun to say where I 
 love, where I hate. That proud dullard once slighted 
 me when we met at his father's court and the wish 
 next to my heart, is to pay back my affront with my 
 battle-axe. Give thy sister to the heir of Burgundy, 
 and forgive me if I depart to my castle of Middle- 
 ham." 
 
 Edward, stung by the sharpness of this reply, was 
 about to answer as became his majesty of king, when 
 Warwick, more deliberately resumed " Yet think 
 well, Henry of Windsor is thy prisoner, but his cause 
 lives in Margaret and his son. There is but one 
 power in Europe that can threaten thee with aid to 
 the Lancastrians, that power is France. Make Louis 
 thy friend and ally, and thou givest peace to thy life 
 and thy lineage make Louis thy foe, and count on 
 plots and stratagems, and treason uneasy days and 
 sleepless nights. Already thou hast lost one occasion 
 to secure that wiliest and most restless of princes, in 
 rejecting the hand of the Princess Bona. Happily, 
 this loss can now be retrieved. But alliance with Bur- 
 gundy is war with France war more deadly because 
 Louis is a man who declares it not a war carried on 
 by intrigue and bribe, by spies and minions, till some 
 disaffection ripens the hour when young Edward of 
 Lancaster shall land on thy coasts, with the Oriflamme 
 and the Red Rose, with French soldiers and English 
 malcontents. Wouldst thou look to Burgundy for 
 help? Burgundy will have enough to guard its own
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 141 
 
 frontiers from the gripe of Louis the Sleepless. Ed- 
 ward, my king, my pupil in arms Edward, my loved, 
 my honoured liege, forgive Richard Nevile his blunt- 
 ness, and let not his faults stand in bar of his coun- 
 sels." 
 
 " You are right, as you are ever safeguard of Eng- 
 land, and pillar of my state," said the king, frankly, 
 and pressing the arm he still held, " Go to France and 
 settle all as thou wilt." 
 
 Warwick bent low and kissed the hand of his sov- 
 ereign. " And," said he, with a slight, but a sad smile 
 " when I am gone, my liege will not repent, will not 
 misthink me, will not listen to my foes, nor suffer 
 merchant and mayor to sigh him back to the mechan- 
 ics of Flanders ? " 
 
 " Warwick, thou deemest ill of thy king's kingli- 
 ness." 
 
 " Not of thy kingliness, but that same gracious 
 quality of yielding to counsel which bows this proud 
 nature to submission often makes me fear for thy 
 firmness, when thy will is won through thy heart. And 
 now, good my liege, forgive me one sentence more. 
 Heaven forefend that I should stand in the way of thy 
 princely favours. A king's countenance is a sun that 
 should shine on all. But bethink thee well, the bar- 
 ons of England are a stubborn and haughty race ; 
 chafe not thy most puissant peers by too cold a 
 neglect of their past services, and too lavish a largess 
 to new men." 
 
 " Thou aimest at Elizabeth's kin," interrupted Ed- 
 ward, withdrawing his hand from his minister's arm 
 " and I tell once for all times, that I would rather 
 sink to mine earldom of March, with a subject's right 
 to honour where he loves, than wear crown and wield
 
 142 THE LAST OF THE BARQNS 
 
 sceptre without a king's unquestioned prerogative to 
 ennoble the line and blood of one he has deemed 
 worthy of his throne. As for the barons, with whose 
 wrath thou threatenest me, I banish them not. If 
 they go in gloom from my court why, let them chafe 
 themselves sleek again ! " 
 
 " King Edward," said Warwick, moodily, " tried 
 services merit not this contempt. It is not as the kith 
 of the queen that I regret to see lands and honour 
 lavished upon men, rooted so newly to the soil that 
 the first blast of the war-trump will scatter their green- 
 ness to the winds. But what sorrows me is to mark 
 those who have fought against thee, preferred to the 
 stout loyalty that braved block and field for thy cause. 
 Look round thy court; where are the men of bloody 
 York and victorious Teuton? unrequited, sullen in 
 their strongholds begirt with their yeomen and re- 
 tainers. Thou standest thou, the heir of York 
 almost alone (save where the Neviles whom one day 
 thy court will seek also to disgrace and discard vex 
 their old comrades in arms by their defection) thou 
 standest almost alone among the favourites and min- 
 ions of Lancaster. Is there no danger in proving to 
 men that to have served thee is discredit to have 
 warred against thee is guerdon and grace ? " 
 
 " Enough of this, cousin," replied the king, with an 
 effort which preserved his firmness. " On this head 
 we cannot agree. Take what else thou wilt of roy- 
 alty make treaties and contract marriages estab- 
 lish peace or proclaim war: but trench not on my 
 sweetest prerogative to give and to forgive. And 
 now, wilt thou tarry and sup with us? The ladies 
 grow impatient of a commune that detains from their 
 eyes the stateliest knight since the Round Table was 
 chopped into fire-wood,"
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 143 
 
 " No, my liege," said Warwick, whom flattery of 
 this sort rather angered than soothed " I have much 
 yet to prepare. I leave your highness to fairer hom- 
 age and more witching counsels than mine." So 
 saying, he kissed the king's hand, and was retiring, 
 when he remembered his kinsman, whose humble in- 
 terests, in the midst of more exciting topics, he had 
 hitherto forgotten, and added, " May I crave, since 
 you are so merciful to the Lancastrians, one grace for 
 my namesake a Nevile, whose father repented the 
 side he espoused a son of Sir Guy of Arsdale ? " 
 
 " Ah," said the king, smiling maliciously, " it pleas- 
 eth us much to find that it is easier to the warm heart 
 of our cousin Warwick to preach sententiaries of 
 sternness to his king, than to enforce the same by his 
 own practice ! " 
 
 " You misthink me, sire. I ask not that Marma- 
 duke Nevile should supplant his superiors and elders 
 I ask not that he should be made baron and peer 
 I ask only that, as a young gentleman, who hath taken 
 no part himself in the wars, and whose father repented 
 his error, your grace should strengthen your follow- 
 ing by an ancient name and a faithful servant. But 
 I should have remembered me that his name of Nevile 
 would have procured him a taunt in the place of ad- 
 vancement." 
 
 " Saw man ever so froward a temper ? " cried Ed- 
 ward, not without reason. " Why, Warwick, thou art 
 as shrewish to a jest as a woman to advice. Thy kins- 
 man's fortunes shall be my care. Thou sayest thou 
 hast enemies I weet not who they be. But to show 
 what I think of them, I make thy namesake and client 
 a gentleman of my chamber. When Warwick is false 
 to Edward, let him think that Warwick's kinsman
 
 144 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 wears a dagger within reach of the king's heart day 
 and night." 
 
 This speech was made with so noble and touching 
 a kindness of voice and manner, that the earl, thor- 
 oughly subdued, looked at his sovereign with moist- 
 ened eyes, and only trusting himself to say " Ed- 
 ward, thou art king, knight, gentleman, and soldier, 
 and I verily trow that I love thee best when my petu- 
 lant zeal makes me anger thee most," turned away 
 with evident emotion, and passing the queen and her 
 ladies with a lowlier homage than that with which he 
 had before greeted them, left the garden. Edward's 
 eye followed him, musingly. The frank expression 
 of his face vanished, and, with the deep breath of a 
 man who is throwing a weight from his heart, he mut- 
 tered 
 
 " He loves me yes, but will suffer no one else 
 to love me ! This must end some day. I am weary 
 of the bondage." And sauntering towards the ladies, 
 he listened in silence, but not apparently in displeas- 
 ure, to his queen's sharp sayings on the imperious 
 mood and irritable temper of the iron-handed builder 
 of his throne. 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THE ANTECHAMBER 
 
 As Warwick passed the door that led from the gar- 
 den, he brushed by a young man, the baudekin stripes 
 of whose vest announced his relationship to the king, 
 and who, though far less majestic than Edward, pos- 
 sessed sufficient of family likeness to pass for a very 
 handsome and comely person. But his countenance
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 145 
 
 wanted the open and fearless expression which gave 
 that of the king so masculine and heroic a character. 
 The features were smaller, and less clearly cut, and to 
 a. physiognomical observer there was much that was 
 weak and irresolute in the light blue eyes and the 
 smiling lips, which never closed firmly, over the teeth. 
 He did not wear the long gown then so much in 
 vogue, but his light figure was displayed to advan- 
 tage by a vest, fitting it exactly, descending half-way 
 down the thigh, and trimmed at the border and the 
 collar with ermine. The sleeves of the doublet were 
 slit, so as to show the white lawn beneath, and 
 adorned with aiglets and knots of gold. Over the left 
 arm hung a rich jacket of furs and velvet, something 
 like that adopted by the modern hussar. His hat or 
 cap was high and tiara-like, with a single white plume, 
 and the ribbon of the garter bound his knee. Though 
 the dress of this personage was thus far less effemi- 
 nate than Edward's, the effect of his appearance was 
 infinitely more so partly, perhaps, from a less mus- 
 cular frame, and partly from his extreme youth. For 
 George Duke of Clarence was then, though initiated 
 not only in the gaieties, but all the intrigues of the 
 court, only in his eighteenth year. Laying his hand, 
 every finger of which sparkled with jewels, on the 
 earl's shoulder " Hold ! " said the young prince in 
 a whisper, " a word in thy ear, noble Warwick." 
 
 The earl, who, next to Edward, loved Clarence the 
 most of his princely house, and who always found the 
 latter as docile as the other (when humour or affec- 
 tion seized him) was intractable, relaxed into a famil- 
 iar smile at the duke's greeting, and suffered the 
 young prince to draw him aside from the groups of 
 courtiers with whom the chamber was filled, to the 
 VCL. I. 10
 
 146 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 leaning-places (as they were called) of a large mullion 
 window. In the mean while, as they thus conferred, 
 the courtiers interchanged looks, and many an eye 
 of fear and hate was directed towards the stately form 
 of the earl. For these courtiers were composed prin- 
 cipally of the kindred or friends of the queen, and 
 though they dared not openly evince the malice 
 with which they retorted Warwick's lofty scorn and 
 undisguised resentment at their new fortunes, they 
 ceased not to hope for his speedy humiliation and 
 disgrace, recking little what storm might rend the 
 empire, so that it uprooted the giant oak, which still, 
 in some measure, shaded their sunlight, and checked 
 their growth. True, however, that amongst these 
 were mingled, though rarely, men of a hardier stamp 
 and nobler birth some few of the veteran friends of 
 the king's great father and these, keeping sternly 
 and loftily aloof from the herd, regarded Warwick 
 with the same almost reverential and yet affectionate 
 admiration which he inspired amongst the yeomen, 
 peasants, and mechanics ; for in that growing but quiet 
 struggle of the burgesses, as it will often happen in 
 more civilised times, the great Aristocracy and the 
 Populace were much united in affection, though with 
 very different objects ; and the Middle and Trading 
 Class, with whom the earl's desire for French alli- 
 ances and disdain of commerce had much weakened 
 his popularity, alone shared not the enthusiasm of 
 their countrymen for the lion-hearted minister. 
 
 Nevertheless, it must here be owned, that the rise 
 of Elizabeth's kindred introduced a far more intel- 
 lectual, accomplished, and literary race into court 
 favour than had for many generations flourished in 
 so uncongenial a soil : and in this antechamber feud,
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 147 
 
 the pride of education and mind retaliated with juster 
 sarcasm the pride of birth and sinews. 
 
 Amongst those opposed to the earl, and fit in all 
 qualities to be the head of the new movement if the 
 expressive modern word be allowed us stood at that 
 moment in the very centre of the chamber, Anthony 
 Woodville in right of the rich heiress he had mar- 
 ried, the Lord Scales. As when some hostile and for- 
 midable foe enters the meads where the flock grazes, 
 the gazing herd gather slowly round their leader, 
 so grouped the queen's faction slowly, and by de- 
 grees, round this accomplished nobleman, at the pro- 
 longed sojourn of Warwick. 
 
 " Gramercy ! " said the Lord Scales, in a somewhat 
 affected intonation of voice, " the conjunction of the 
 bear and the young lion is a parlous omen, for the 
 which I could much desire we had a wise astrologer's 
 reading." 
 
 " It is said," observed one of the courtiers, " that 
 the Duke of Clarence much affects either the lands or 
 the person of the Lady Isabel." 
 
 " A passably fair damozel," returned Anthony, 
 " though a thought or so too marked and high in her 
 lineaments, and wholly unlettered, no doubt; which 
 were a pity, for George of Clarence hath some pretty 
 taste in the arts and poesies. But as Occleve hath 
 
 it 
 
 ' Gold, silver, jewel, cloth, beddyng, array,' 
 
 would make gentle George amorous of a worse-feat- 
 ured face than high-nosed Isabel ; ' strange to spell 
 or rede/ as I would wager my best destrier to a tail- 
 or's hobby, the damozel surely is." 
 
 " Notest thou yon gaudy popinjay ? " whispered the 
 Lord of St. John to one of his Teuton comrades, as,
 
 148 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 leaning against the wall, they overheard the sarcasms 
 of Anthony, and the laugh of the courtiers, who 
 glassed their faces and moods to his ; " is the time so 
 out of joint that Master Anthony Woodville can 
 vent his scurrile japes on the heiress of Salisbury and 
 Warwick, in the king's chamber? " 
 
 " And prate of spelling and reading, as if they were 
 the cardinal virtues," returned his sullen companion. 
 " By my halidame, I have two fair daughters at home, 
 who will lack husbands, I trow, for they can only spin 
 and be chaste two maidenly gifts out of bloom with 
 the White Rose." 
 
 In the meanwhile, unwitting, or contemptuous of 
 the attention they excited, Warwick and Clarence 
 continued yet more earnestly to confer. 
 
 " No, George, no," said the earl, who, as the de- 
 scendant of John of Gaunt, and of kin to the king's 
 blood, maintained, in private, a father's familiarity 
 with the princes of York, though on state occasions, 
 and when in the hearing of others, he sedulously 
 marked his deference for their rank " no, George, 
 calm and steady thy hot mettle, for thy brother's and 
 England's sake. I grieve as much as thou to hear 
 that the queen does not spare even thee in her fro- 
 ward and unwomanly peevishness. But there is a 
 glamour in this, believe me, that must melt away, 
 soon or late, and our kingly Edward recover his 
 senses." 
 
 " Glamour!" said Clarence ; " thinkest thou, indeed, 
 that her mother, Jacquetta, has bewitched the king? 
 One word of thy belief in such spells, spread abroad 
 amongst the people, would soon raise the same storm 
 that blew Eleanor Cobham from Duke Humphrey's 
 bed, along London streets in her penance-shift."
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 149 
 
 " Troth," said the earl, indifferently, " I leave such 
 grave questions as these to prelate and priest; the 
 glamour I spoke of is that of a fair face over a wanton 
 heart ; and Edward is not so steady a lover, that this 
 should never wear out." 
 
 " It amates me much, noble cousin, that thou leav- 
 est the court in this juncture. The queen's heart is 
 with Burgundy the city's hate is with France and 
 when once thou art gone, I fear that the king will be 
 teased into mating my sister with the Count of Charo- 
 lois." 
 
 " Ho ! " exclaimed Warwick, with an oath so loud 
 that it rung through the chamber, and startled every 
 ear that heard it. Then, perceiving his indiscretion, 
 he lowered his tone into a deep and hollow whisper, 
 and griped the prince's arm, almost fiercely, as he 
 spoke. 
 
 " Could Edward so dishonour my embassy so 
 palter and juggle with my faith so flout me in the 
 eyes of Christendom, I would I would " he paused, 
 and relaxed his hold of the duke, and added, with an 
 altered voice " I would leave his wife and his lemans, 
 and yon things of silk, whom he makes peers (that 
 is easy) but cannot make men to guard his throne 
 from the grandson of Henry V. But thy fears, thy 
 zeal, thy love for me, dearest prince and cousin, make 
 thee misthink Edward's kingly honour and knightly 
 faith. I go with the sure knowledge that by alliance 
 with France I shut the house of Lancaster from all 
 hope of this roiaulme." 
 
 " Hadst thou not better, at least, see my sister Mar- 
 garet she has a high spirit, and she thinks thou 
 mightst, at least, woo her assent, and tell her of the 
 good gifts of her lord to be ! "
 
 ISO THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 " Are the daughters of York spoilt to this by the 
 manners and guise of a court, in which beshrew me 
 if I well know which the woman and whom the man ? 
 Is it not enough to give peace to broad England 
 root to her brother's stem ? Is it not enough to wed 
 the son of a king the descendant of Charlemagne 
 and St. Louis? Must I go bonnet in hand and sim- 
 per forth, the sleek personals of the choice of her kith 
 and house ; swear the bridegroom's side-locks ere as 
 long as King Edward's, and that he bows with the 
 grace of Master Anthony Woodville? Tell her this 
 thyself, gentle Clarence, if thou wilt : all Warwick 
 could say would but anger her ear, if she be the maid 
 thou bespeakest her." 
 
 The Duke of Clarence hesitated a moment, and 
 then, colouring slightly, said " If, then, the daugh- 
 ter's hand be the gift of her kith alone, shall I have 
 thy favour when the Lady Isabel " 
 
 " George," interrupted Warwick, with a fond and 
 paternal smile, " when we have made England safe, 
 there is nothing the son of Richard of York can ask 
 of Warwick in vain. Alas ! " he added, mournfully, 
 " thy father and mine were united in the same mur- 
 therous death, and I think they will smile down on 
 us from their seats in heaven, when a happier genera- 
 tion cements that bloody union with a marriage 
 bond ! " 
 
 Without waiting for further parlance, the earl 
 turned suddenly away, threw his cap on his towering 
 head, and strode right through the centre of the whis- 
 pering courtiers, who shrunk, louting low, from his 
 haughty path, to break into a hubbub of angry 
 exclamations, or sarcastic jests, at his unmannerly 
 bearing, as his black plume disappeared in the arch 
 of the vaulted door.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 151 
 
 While such the scene in the interior chambers of 
 the palace, Marmaduke, with the frank simpleness 
 which belonged to his youth and training, had already 
 won much favour and popularity, and he was laugh- 
 ing loud with a knot of young men by the shovel- 
 board, when Warwick re-entered. The earl, though 
 so disliked by the courtiers more immediately about 
 the person of the king, was still the favourite of the 
 less elevated knights and gentry who formed the sub- 
 ordinate household and retainers ; and with these, in- 
 deed, his manner, so proud and arrogant to his foes 
 and rivals, relapsed at once into the ease of the manly 
 and idolised chief. He was pleased to see the way 
 made by his young namesake, and lifting his cap, as 
 he nodded to the group, and leant his arm upon Mar- 
 maduke's shoulder, he said " Thanks, and hearty 
 thanks, to you, knights and gentles, for your courte- 
 ous reception of an old friend's young son. I have 
 our king's most gracious permission to see him en- 
 rolled one of the court ye grace. Ah ! Master Fal- 
 coner, and how does thy worthy uncle ? braver 
 knight never trod. What young gentleman is yon- 
 der ? a new face and a manly one ; by your favour, 
 present him ! the son of a Savile ! Sir, on my re- 
 turn, be not the only Savile who shuns our table of 
 Warwick Court. Master Dacres, commend me to 
 the lady, your mother; she and I have danced many 
 a measure together in the old time we all live again 
 in our children. Good den to you, sirs. Marma- 
 duke, follow me to the office you lodge in the palace. 
 You are gentleman to the most gracious and, if War- 
 wick lives, to the most puissant of Europe's sover- 
 eigns. I shall see Montagu at home; he shall in- 
 struct thee in thy duties, and requite thee for all 
 discourtesies on the archery-ground."
 
 BOOK III 
 
 IN WHICH THE HISTORY PASSES FROM THE 
 
 KING'S COURT TO THE STUDENTS CELL, 
 
 AND RELATES THE PERILS THAT BEFELL A 
 
 ; PHILOSOPHER FOR MEDDLING WITH THE 
 
 AFFAIRS OF THE WORLD 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE SOLITARY. SAGE AND THE SOLITARY MAID 
 
 While such the entrance of Marmaduke Nevile into 
 a court, that if far less intellectual and refined than 
 those of later days, was yet more calculated to dazzle 
 the fancy, to sharpen the wit, and to charm the senses; 
 for round the throne of Edward IV. chivalry was mag- 
 nificent, intrigue restless, and pleasure ever on the 
 wing Sibyll had ample leisure, in her solitary home, 
 to muse over the incidents that had preceded the de- 
 parture of the young guest. Though she had rejected 
 Marmaduke's proffered love, his tone, so suddenly 
 altered his abrupt, broken words and confusion his 
 farewell, so soon succeeding his passionate declaration 
 could not fail to wound that pride of woman which 
 never sleeps till modesty is gone. But this made the 
 least cause of the profound humiliation which bowed 
 down her spirit. The meaning taunt conveyed in the 
 rhyme of the tymbesteref, pierced her to the quick; 
 the calm indifferent smile of the stranger, as he re- 
 garded her; the beauty of the dame he attended, woke
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 153 
 
 mingled and contrary feelings, but those of jealousy 
 were, perhaps, the keenest: and in the midst of all she 
 started to ask herself if indeed she had suffered her 
 vain thoughts to dwell too tenderly upon one from 
 whom the vast inequalities of human life must divide 
 her evermore What to her was his indifference? 
 Nothing yet had she given worlds to banish that 
 careless smile from her remembrance. 
 
 Shrinking, at last, from the tyranny of thoughts till 
 of late unknown, her eye rested upon the gipsire which 
 Alwyn had sent her by the old servant. The sight re- 
 stored to her the holy recollection of her father, the 
 sweet joy of having ministered to his wants. She put 
 up the little treasure, intending to devote it all to War- 
 ner; and after bathing her heavy eyes, that no sorrow 
 of hers might afflict the student, she passed, with a list- 
 less step, into her father's chamber. 
 
 There is, to the quick and mercurial spirits of the 
 young, something of marvellous and preternatural in 
 that life within life, which the strong passion of science 
 and genius forms and feeds : that passion so much 
 stronger than love, and so much more self-dependent 
 which asks no sympathy, leans on no kindred heart 
 which lives alone in its works and fancies, like a god 
 amidst his creations. 
 
 The philosopher, too, had experienced a great afflic- 
 tion since they met last. In the pride of his heart, he 
 had designed to show Marmaduke the mystic opera- 
 tions of his model, which had seemed that morning to 
 open into life; and when the young man was gone, 
 and he made the experiment alone, alas ! he found 
 that new progress but involved him in new difficulties. 
 He had gained the first steps in the gigantic creation 
 of modern days, and he was met by the obstacle that
 
 154 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 baffled so long the great modern sage. There was the 
 cylinder there the boiler; yet, work as he would, the 
 steam failed to keep the cylinder at work. And now, 
 patiently as the spider re-weaves the broken web, his 
 untiring ardour was bent upon constructing a new 
 cylinder of other materials. " Strange," he said to 
 himself, " that the heat of the mover aids not the 
 movement;" and so, blundering near the truth, he 
 laboured on. 
 
 Sibyll, meanwhile, seated herself abstractedly on a 
 heap of fagots, piled in the corner, and seemed busy 
 in framing characters on the dusty floor with the point 
 of her tiny slipper. So fresh and fair and young she 
 seemed, in that murky atmosphere, that strange scene, 
 and beside that worn man, that it might have seemed 
 to a poet as if the youngest of the Graces were come 
 to visit Mulciber at his forge. 
 
 The man pursued his work the girl renewed her 
 dreams the dark evening hour gradually stealing 
 over both. The silence was unbroken, for the forge 
 and the model were now at rest, save by the grating 
 of Adam's file upon the metal, or by some ejaculation 
 of complacency now and then vented by the enthusiast. 
 So, apart from the many-noised, gaudy, babbling 
 world without, even in the midst of that bloody, turbu- 
 lent, and semi-barbarous time, went on (the one neg- 
 lected and unknown, the other loathed and hated) 
 the two movers of the ALL that continues the airy life 
 of the Beautiful from age to age the Woman's dream- 
 ing fancy, and the Man's active Genius.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 155 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 MASTER ADAM WARNER GROWS A MISER, AND BEHAVES 
 SHAMEFULLY 
 
 For two or three days nothing disturbed the out- 
 ward monotony of the recluse's household. Appar- 
 ently all had settled back as before the advent of the 
 young cavalier. But Sibyll's voice was not heard 
 singing, as of old, when she passed the stairs to her 
 father's room. She sat with him in his work no less 
 frequently and regularly than before; but her childish 
 spirits no longer broke forth in idle talk or petulant 
 movement, vexing the good man from his absorption 
 and his toils. The little cares and anxieties, which 
 had formerly made up so much of Sibyll's day, by fore- 
 thought of provision for the morrow, were suspended; 
 for the money transmitted to her by Alwyn, in return 
 for the emblazoned MSS. was sufficient to supply their 
 modest wants for months to come. Adam, more and 
 more engrossed in his labours, did not appear to per- 
 ceive the daintier plenty of his board, nor the purchase 
 of some small comforts unknown for years. He only 
 said one morning " It is strange, girl, that as that 
 gathers in life (and he pointed to the model), it seems 
 already to provide, to my phantasy, the luxuries it 
 will one day give to us all in truth. Methought my very 
 bed last night seemed wondrous easy, and the cover- 
 ings were warmer, for I woke not with the cold! " 
 
 "Ah!" thought the sweet daughter, smiling through 
 moist eyes " while my cares can smooth thy barren 
 path through life, why should I cark and pine?" 
 
 Their solitude was now occasionally broken in the 
 evenings by the visits of Nicholas Alwyn. The young
 
 i$6 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 goldsmith was himself not ignorant of the simpler 
 mathematics: he had some talent for invention, and 
 took pleasure in the construction of horologes, though, 
 properly speaking, not a part of his trade. His excuse 
 for his visits was the wish to profit by Warner's me- 
 chanical knowledge; but the student was so wrapped 
 in his own pursuits, that he -gave but little instruction 
 to his visitor. Nevertheless, Alwyn was satisfied, for 
 he saw Sibyll. He saw her in the most attractive 
 phase of her character, the loving, patient, devoted 
 daughter; and the view of her household virtues af- 
 fected more and more his honest English heart. But, 
 ever awkward and embarrassed, he gave no vent to 
 his feelings. To Sibyll he spoke little, and with for- 
 mal constraint; and the girl, unconscious of her con- 
 quest, was little less indifferent to his visits than her 
 abstracted father. 
 
 But all at once Adam woke to a sense of the change 
 that had taken place all at once he caught scent of 
 gold, for his works were brought to a pause for want 
 of some finer and more costly materials than the coins 
 in his own possession (the remnant of Marmaduke's 
 gift) enabled him to purchase. He had stolen out at 
 dusk unknown to Sibyll, and lavished the whole upon 
 the model, but in vain! The model in itself was, in- 
 deed, completed; his invention had mastered the diffi- 
 culty that it had encountered. But Adam had com- 
 plicated the contrivance by adding to it experimental 
 proofs of the agency it was intended to exercise. It 
 was necessary in that age, if he were to convince 
 others, to show more than the principle of his engine, 
 he must show also something of its effects; turn a mill 
 without wind or water, or set in motion some mimic 
 vehicle without other force than that the contrivance
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 157 
 
 itself supplied. And here, at every step, new obstacles 
 arose. It was the misfortune to science in those days, 
 not only that all books and mathematical instruments 
 were enormously dear, but that the students, still 
 struggling into light, through the glorious delusions 
 of alchemy and mysticism imagined that, even in 
 simple practical operations, there were peculiar virtues 
 in virgin gold and certain precious stones. A link in 
 the process upon which Adam was engaged failed him ; 
 his ingenuity was baffled, his work stood still; and in 
 poring again and again over the learned MSS. alas! 
 now lost, in which certain German doctors had sought 
 to explain the pregnant hints of Roger Bacon, he 
 found it inculcated that the axle of a certain wheel 
 must be composed of a diamond. Now in truth, it so 
 happened that Adam's contrivance, which (even with- 
 out the appliances which were added in illustration of 
 the theory) was infinitely more complicated than mod- 
 ern research has found necessary, did not even require 
 the wheel in question, much less the absent diamond: 
 it happened, also, that his understanding, which, 
 though so obtuse in common life, was in these matters 
 astonishingly clear, could not trace any mathematical 
 operations by which the diamond axle would in the 
 least correct the difficulty that had suddenly started up, 
 and yet the accursed diamond began to haunt him 
 the German authority was so positive on the point, and 
 that authority had in many respects been accurate. 
 Nor was this all the diamond was to be no vulgar 
 diamond : it was to be endowed, by talismanic skill, 
 with certain properties and virtues; it was to be for a 
 certain number of hours exposed to the rays of the 
 full moon; it was to be washed in a primitive and won- 
 drous elixir, the making of which consumed no little
 
 158 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 of the finest gold. This diamond was to be to the 
 machine what the soul is to the body a glorious, all- 
 pervading, mysterious principle of activity and life. 
 Such were the dreams that obscured the cradle of in- 
 fant science ! And Adam, with all his reasoning 
 powers, his lore in the hard truths of mathematics, 
 was but one of the giant children of the dawn. The 
 magnificent phrases and solemn promises of the mys- 
 tic Germans got firm hold of his fancy. Night and 
 day, waking or sleeping, the diamond, basking in the 
 silence of the full moon, sparkled before his eyes 
 meanwhile all was at a stand. In the very last steps 
 of his discovery he was arrested. Then suddenly 
 looking round for vulgar moneys to purchase the preci- 
 ous gem, and the materials for the soluble elixir, he 
 saw that MONEY had been at work around him that 
 he had been sleeping softly and faring sumptuously. 
 He was seized with a divine rage. How had Sibyll 
 dared to secrete from him this hoard? how presumed 
 to waste upon the base body what might have so prof- 
 ited the eternal mind? In his relentless ardour, in his 
 sublime devotion and loyalty to his abstract idea, there 
 was a devouring cruelty, of which this meek and gen- 
 tle scholar was wholly unconscious. The grim iron 
 model, like a Moloch, ate up all things health, life, 
 love; and its jaws now opened for his child. He rose 
 from his bed it was daybreak he threw on his 
 dressing-robe he strode into his daughter's room 
 the grey twilight came through the comfortless, cur- 
 tainless casement, deep-sunk into the wall. Adam did 
 not pause to notice that the poor child, though she had 
 provoked his anger, by refitting his dismal chamber, 
 had spent nothing in giving a less rugged frown to her 
 own.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 159 
 
 The scanty worm-worn furniture, the wretched pal- 
 let, the poor attire folded decently beside nothing 
 save that inexpressible purity and cleanliness which, 
 in the lowliest hovel, a pure and maiden mind gathers 
 round it nothing to distinguish the room of her 
 whose childhood had passed in courts from the hut of 
 the meanest daughter of drudgery and toil! No he 
 who had lavished the fortunes of his father and his 
 child into the grave of his idea no he saw nothing 
 of this self-forgetful penury the diamond danced be- 
 fore him! He approached the bed and oh! the con- 
 trast of that dreary room and peasant pallet, to the' 
 delicate, pure, enchanting loveliness of the sleeping in- 
 mate. The scanty covering left partially exposed the 
 snow-white neck and rounded shoulder; the face was 
 pillowed upon the arm, in an infantine grace; the face 
 was slightly flushed, and the fresh red lips parted into 
 a smile for in her sleep the virgin dreamed a happy 
 dream! It was a sight to have touched a father's 
 heart, to have stopped his footstep, and hushed his 
 breath into prayer. And call not Adam hard unnat- 
 ural that he was not then, as men far more harsh 
 than he for the father at that moment was not in his 
 breast the human man was gone he himself, like 
 his model, was a machine of iron! his life was his one 
 idea! 
 
 " Wake, child, wake! " he said, in a loud but hollow 
 voice. " Where is the gold thou hast hidden from 
 me? Wake confess! " 
 
 Roused from her gracious dreams thus savagely, 
 Sibyll started, and saw the eager, darkened face of her 
 father. Its expression was peculiar and undefinable, 
 for it was not threatening, angry, stern; there was a 
 vacancy in the eyes, a strain in the features, and yet a
 
 160 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 wild intense animation lighting and pervading all it 
 was as the face of one walking in his sleep, and, at the 
 first confusion of waking, Sibyll thought indeed that 
 such was her father's state. But the impatience with 
 which he shook the arm he grasped, and repeated, as 
 he opened convulsively his other hand, " The gold, 
 Sibyll the gold! Why didst thou hide it from me? " 
 speedily convinced her that her father's mind was 
 under the influence of the prevailing malady that made 
 all its weakness and all its strength. 
 
 "My poor father!" she said, pityingly, "wilt thou 
 not leave thyself the means whereby to keep strength 
 and health for thine high hopes? Ah! father, thy 
 Sibyll only hoarded her poor gains for thee!" 
 
 "The gold!" said Adam, mechanically, but in a 
 softer voice "all all thou hast? How didst thou 
 get it how?" 
 
 " By the labours of these hands. Ah ! do not frown 
 on me! " 
 
 " Thou the child of knightly fathers thou 
 labour! " said Adam, an instinct of his former state of 
 gentle-born and high-hearted youth flashing from his 
 eyes. " It was wrong in thee! " 
 
 " Dost thou not labour too? " 
 
 "Ay, but for the world. Well the gold! " 
 
 Sibyll rose, and modestly throwing over her form 
 the old mantle which lay on the pallet, passed to a cor- 
 ner of the room, and opening a chest, took from it the 
 gipsire, and held it out to her father. 
 
 "If it please thee, dear and honoured sir, so be it; 
 and Heaven prosper it in thy hands! " 
 
 Before Adam's clutch could close on the gipsire, a 
 rude hand was laid on his shoulder, the gipsire was 
 snatched from Sibyll, and the gaunt half-clad form of 
 Old Madge interposed between the two.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 161 
 
 " Eh, sir! " she said, in her shrill, cracked tone, " I 
 thought, when I heard your door open, and your step 
 hurrying down, you were after no good deeds. Fie, 
 master, fie ! I have clung to you when all reviled, and 
 when starvation within and foul words without made 
 all my hire; for I ever thought you a good and mild 
 man, though little better than stark wode. But, 
 augh! to rob your poor child thus to leave her to 
 starve and pine! We old folks are used to it. Look 
 round look round; I remember this chamber, when 
 ye first came to your father's hall. Saints of heaven! 
 There stood the brave bed all rustling with damask 
 of silk ; on those stone walls once hung fine arras of the 
 Flemings a marriage gift to my lady from Queen 
 Margaret, and a mighty show to see, and good for 
 the soul's comforts, with Bible stories wrought on it. 
 Eh, sir! don't you call to mind your namesake, Master 
 Adam, in his brave scarlet hosen, and Madam Eve, 
 in her bonny blue kirtle and laced courtpie; and now 
 now look round, I say, and see what you have 
 brought your child to! " 
 
 " Hush ! hush ! Madge, hush ! " cried Sibyll, while 
 Adam gazed in evident perturbation and awakening 
 shame at the intruder, turning his eyes round the room 
 as she spoke, and heaving from time to time short, 
 deep sighs. 
 
 " But I will not hush," pursued the old woman; " I 
 will say my say, for I love ye both, and I loved my 
 poor mistress, who is dead and gone. Ah, sir, groan ! 
 it does you good. And now when this sweet damsel 
 is growing up, now when you should think of saving 
 a marriage dower for her (for no marriage where no 
 pot boils), do you rend from her the little that she has 
 drudged to gain! She! Oh, out on your heart? and 
 VOL. I. ii
 
 162 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 for what for what, sir? For the neighbours to set 
 fire to your father's house, and the little ones to " 
 
 " Forbear, woman ! " cried Adam, in a voice of thun- 
 der, "forbear! Leave us!" And he waved his hand 
 as he spoke, with so unexpected a majesty that Madge 
 was awed into sudden silence, and, darting a look of 
 compassion at Sibyll, she hobbled from the room. 
 Adam stood motionless an instant; but when he felt 
 his child's soft arms round his neck when he heard 
 her voice struggling against tears, praying him not to 
 heed the foolish words of the old servant to take 
 to take all that it would be easy to gain more the 
 ice of his philosophy melted at once the man broke 
 forth, and, clasping Sibyll to his heart, and kissing her 
 cheek, her lips, her hands, he faltered out " No! no! 
 forgive me! forgive thy cruel father! Much thought 
 has maddened me, I think it has indeed! Poor 
 child, poor Sibyll," and he stroked her cheek gently, 
 and with a movement of pathetic pity " poor child, 
 thou art pale and so slight and delicate! And this 
 chamber and thy loneliness and ah! my life hath 
 been a curse to thee, yet I meant to bequeath it a boon 
 to all!" 
 
 " Father, dear father, speak not thus. You break 
 
 my heart. Here, here take the gold or rather, 
 
 for thou must not venture out to insult again, let me 
 purchase with it what thou needest. Tell me, trust 
 me " 
 
 "No!" exclaimed Adam, with that hollow energy 
 by which a man resolves to impose restraint on him- 
 self; " I will not, for all that science ever achieved 
 I will not lay this shame on my soul: spend this 
 gold on thyself trim this room buy thee raiment 
 all that thou needest I order I command it! And
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 163 
 
 hark thee, if thou gettest more, hide it from me hide 
 it well men's desires are foul tempters! I never 
 knew, in following wisdom, that I had a vice. I wake 
 and find myself a miser and a robber! " 
 
 And with these words he fled from the girl's cham- 
 ber, gained his own and locked the door. 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 A STRANGE VISITOR ALL AGES OF THE WORLD BREED 
 
 WORLD-BETTERS 
 
 Sibyll, whose soft heart bled for her father, and who 
 now reproached herself for having concealed from him 
 her little hoard, began hastily to dress that she might 
 seek him out, and soothe the painful feelings which 
 the honest rudeness of Madge had aroused. But be- 
 fore her task was concluded, there pealed a loud knock 
 at the outer door. She heard the old housekeeper's 
 quivering voice responding to a loud clear tone; and 
 presently Madge herself ascended the stairs to War- 
 ner's room, followed by a man whom Sibyll instantly 
 recognised for he was not one easily to be forgotten 
 as their protector from the assault of the mob. She 
 drew back hastily as he passed her door, and in some 
 wonder and alarm awaited the descent of Madge. That 
 ' venerable personage having with some difficulty in- 
 duced her master to open his door and admit the 
 stranger, came straight into her young lady's chamber. 
 "Cheer up cheer up, sweetheart," said the old woman, 
 "I think better days will shine soon; for the honest 
 man I have admitted says he is but come to tell Mas- 
 ter Warner something that will redound much to his
 
 164 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 profit. Oh! he is a wonderful fellow, this same 
 Robin! You saw how he turned the cullions from 
 burning the old house! " 
 
 " What! you know this man, Madge! What is he, 
 and who? " 
 
 Madge looked puzzled. " That is more than I can 
 say, sweet mistress. But though he has been but 
 some weeks in the neighbourhood, they all hold him 
 in high count and esteem. For why it is said he is 
 a rich man and a kind one. He does a world of good 
 to the poor." 
 
 While Sibyll listened to such explanations as Madge 
 could give her, the stranger, who had carefully closed 
 the door of the student's chamber, after regarding 
 Adam for a moment with silent but keen scrutiny, thus 
 began : 
 
 " When last we met, Adam Warner, it was with 
 satchells on our backs. Look well at me! " 
 
 " Troth," answered Adam, languidly, for he was still 
 under the deep dejection that had followed the scene 
 with Sibyll, " I cannot call you to mind, nor seems it 
 veritable that our school-days passed together, seeing 
 that my hair is grey and men call me old ; but thou art 
 in all the lustihood of this human life." 
 
 " Nathless," returned the stranger, " there are but 
 two years or so between thine age and mine. When 
 thou wert poring over the crabbed text, and pattering 
 Latin by the ell, dost thou not remember a lack-grace, 
 good-for-naught, Robert Hilyard, who was always set- 
 ting the school in an uproar, and was finally outlawed 
 from that boy-world as he hath been since from the 
 man's world, for inciting the weak to resist the 
 strong? " 
 
 " Ah! "exclaimed Adam, with a gleam of something
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 165 
 
 like joy on his face; "art thou, indeed, that riotous, 
 brawling, fighting, frank-hearted, bold fellow, Robert 
 Hilyard? Ha! ha! those were merry days! I have 
 known none like them " 
 
 The old schoolfellows shook hands heartily. 
 
 " The world has not fared well with thee in person 
 or pouch, I fear me, poor Adam," said Hilyard; " thou 
 canst scarcely have passed thy fiftieth year, and yet 
 thy learned studies have given thee the weight of sixty; 
 while I, though ever in toil and bustle, often wanting 
 a meal, and even fearing the halter, am strong and 
 hearty as when I shot my first fallow buck in the king's 
 forest, and kissed the forester's pretty daughter. Yet, 
 methinks, Adam, if what I hear of thy tasks be true, 
 thou and I have each been working for one end; thou 
 to make the world other than it is, and I to " 
 
 "What! hast thou, too, taken nourishment from 
 the bitter milk of Philosophy, thou, fighting Rob?" 
 
 " I know not whether it be called philosophy but 
 marry, Edward of York would call it rebellion; they 
 are much the same, for both war against rules estab- 
 lished! " returned Hilyard, with more depth of thought 
 than his careless manner seemed to promise. He 
 paused, and laying his broad brown hand on Warner's 
 shoulder, resumed " Thou art poor, Adam! " 
 
 " Very poor very very! " 
 
 " Does thy philosophy disdain gold? " 
 
 " What can philosophy achieve without it? She is 
 a hungry dragon, and her very food is gold!" 
 
 " Wilt thou brave some danger thou wert ever a 
 fearless boy when thy blood was up, though so meek 
 and gentle wilt thou brave some danger for large 
 reward?" 
 
 " My life braves the scorn of men, the pinchings of
 
 1 66 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 famine, and, it may be, the stake and the fagot. Sol- 
 diers brave not the dangers that are braved by a wise 
 man in an unwise age! " 
 
 " Gramercy ! thou hast a hero's calm aspect while 
 thou speakest, and thy words move me! Listen! 
 Thou wert wont when Henry of Windsor was King of 
 England, to visit and confer with him on learned mat- 
 ters. He is now a captive in the Tower; but his gaol- 
 ers permit him still to receive the visits of pious monks 
 and harmless scholars. I ask thee to pay him such a 
 visit, and for this office I am empowered, by richer 
 men than myself, to award thee the guerdon of twenty 
 broad pieces of gold." 
 
 "Twenty! A mine! A Tmolus! " exclaimed 
 Adam, in uncontrollable glee. "Twenty! O true 
 friend! then my work will be born at last! " 
 
 " But hear me further, Adam, for I will not deceive 
 thee; the visit hath its peril! Thou must first see if 
 the mind of King Henry, for king he is, though the 
 usurper wear his holy crown, be clear and healthful. 
 Thou knowest he is subject to dark moods suspen- 
 sion of man's reason; and if he be, as his friends hope, 
 sane and right-judging, thou wilt give him certain 
 papers, which, after his hand has signed them, thou 
 wilt bring back to me. If in this thou succeedest, 
 know that thou mayst restore the royalty of Lancaster 
 to the purple and the throrte; that thou wilt have 
 princes and earls for favourers and protectors to thy 
 learned life; that thy fortunes and fame are made! 
 Fail, be discovered and Edward of York never 
 spares! Thy guerdon will be the nearest tree and the 
 strongest rope ! " 
 
 " Robert," said Adam, who had listened to this ad- 
 dress with unusual attention, " thou dealest with me
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 167 
 
 plainly, and as man should deal with man. I know 
 little of stratagem and polity, wars and kings ; and save 
 that King Henry, though passing ignorant in the 
 mathematics, and more given to alchemists than to 
 solid seekers after truth, was once or twice gracious to 
 me, I could have no choice, in these four walls, be- 
 tween an Edward and a Henry on the throne. But 
 I have a king whose throne is in mine own breast, 
 and, alack, it taxeth me heavily, and with sore bur- 
 dens." 
 
 " I comprehend," said the visitor, glancing round 
 the room " I comprehend thou wantest money for 
 thy books and instruments, and thy melancholic pas- 
 sion is thy sovereign. Thou wilt incur the risk? " 
 
 " I will," said Adam. " I would rather seek in the 
 lion's den for what I lack, than do what I well nigh 
 did this day." 
 
 " What crime was that, poor scholar ? " said Robin, 
 smiling. 
 
 " My child worked for her bread, and my luxuries 
 I would have robbed her, old schoolfellow. Ha! ha! 
 what is cord and gibbet to one so tempted? " 
 
 A tear stood in the bright grey eyes of the bluff 
 visitor. 
 
 "Ah! Adam," he said, sadly, "only by the candle 
 held in the skeleton hand of Poverty can man read his 
 own dark heart. But thou, Workman of Knowledge, 
 hast the same interest as the poor, who dig and delve. 
 Though strange circumstance hath made me the ser- 
 vant and emissary of Margaret, think not that I am 
 but the varlet of the great." 
 
 Hilyard paused a moment, and resumed 
 
 " Thou knowest, peradventure, that my race dates 
 from an elder date than these Norman nobles, who
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 boast their robber-fathers. From the renowned 
 Saxon Thane, who, free of hand and of cheer, won 
 the name of Hildegardis,* our family took its rise. 
 But under these Norman barons, we sank with the 
 nation to which we belonged. Still were we called 
 gentlemen, and still were dubbed knights. But, as I 
 grew up to man's estate, I felt myself more Saxon than 
 gentleman, and, as one of a subject and vassal race, 
 I was a son of the Saxon people. My father, like thee, 
 was a man of thought and bookcraft. I dare own to 
 thee that he was a Lollard, and with the religion of 
 those bold foes to priest-vice, goes a spirit that asks 
 why the people should be evermore the spoil and prey 
 of lords and kings. Early in my youth, my father, 
 fearing rack and fagot in England, sought refuge in 
 the Hans town of Lubeck. There I learned grave 
 truths how liberty can be won and guarded. Later 
 in life I saw the republics of Italy, and I asked why 
 they were so glorious in all the arts and craft of civil 
 life, while the braver men of France and England 
 seemed as savages by the side of the Florentine bur- 
 gess, nay, of the Lombard vine-dresser. I saw that, 
 even when those republics fell a victim to some tyrant 
 or podesta, their men still preserved rights and uttered 
 thoughts which left them more free and more great 
 than the Commons of England, after all their boasted 
 wars. I came back to my native land and settled in 
 the North, as my franklin ancestry before me. The 
 broad lands of my forefathers had devolved on the 
 elder line, and gave a knight's fee to Sir Robert Hil- 
 yard, who fell afterwards at Teuton for the Lancas- 
 trians. But I had won gold in the far countree, and 
 
 * Hildegardis, viz., old German, a person of noble or gen- 
 erous disposition. Wotton's " Baronetage," art. Hilyard, or 
 Hildyard, of Pattrington.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 169 
 
 I took farm and homestead near Lord Warwick's 
 tower at Middleham. The feud between Lancaster 
 and York broke forth; Earl Warwick summoned his 
 retainers, myself amongst them, since I lived upon his 
 land; I sought the great earl, and I told him boldly 
 him whom the Commons deemed a friend, and a foe 
 to all malfaisance and abuse I told him that the war 
 he asked me to join seemed to me but a war of ambi- 
 tious lords, and that I saw not how the Commons were 
 to be bettered, let who would be king. The earl lis- 
 tened and deigned to reason; and when he saw I was 
 not convinced, he left me to my will; for he is a noble 
 chief, and I admired even his angry pride, when he 
 said, ' Let no man fight for Warwick whose heart 
 beats not in his cause.' I lived afterwards to dis- 
 charge my debt to the proud earl, and show him how 
 even the lion may be meshed, and how even the mouse 
 may gnaw the net. But to my own tragedy. So I 
 quitted those parts, for I feared my own resolution 
 near so great a man: I made a new home not far from 
 the city of York. So, Adam, when all the land around 
 bristled with pike and gisarme, and while my own 
 cousin and namesake, the head of my house, was win- 
 ning laurels and wasting blood I, thy quarrelsome, 
 fighting friend lived at home in peace with my wife 
 and child (for I was now married, and wife and child 
 were dear to me), and tilled my lands. But in peace 
 I was active and astir, for my words inflamed the 
 bosoms of labourers and peasants, and many of them, 
 benighted as they were, thought with me. One day, 
 I was absent from home, selling my grain in the marts 
 of York one day there entered the village a young 
 captain, a boy-chief, Edward Earl of March, beating 
 for recruits. Dost thou heed me, Adam? Well, man
 
 1 70 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 well, the peasants stood aloof from tromp and ban- 
 ner, and they answered, to all the talk of hire and fame, 
 ' Robin Hilyard tells us we have nothing to gain but 
 blows leave us to hew and to delve.' Oh! Adam, 
 this boy this chief the Earl of March, now crowned 
 King Edward, made but one reply ' This Robin Hil- 
 yard must be a wise man show me his house.' They 
 pointed out the ricks, the barns, the homestead, and 
 in five minutes all were in flames. ' Tell the hilding, 
 when he returns, that thus Edward of March, fair to 
 friends and terrible to foes, rewards the coward who 
 disaffects the men of Yorkshire to their chief.' And 
 by the blazing rafters, and the pale faces of the silent 
 crowd, he rode on his way to battle and the throne! " 
 
 Hilyard paused, and the anguish of his countenance 
 was terrible to behold. 
 
 " I returned to find a heap of ashes I returned to 
 find my wife a maniac I returned to find my child 
 my boy great God! he had run to hide himself, in 
 terror at the torches and the grim men they had 
 failed to discover him, till, too late, his shrieks, amidst 
 the crashing walls, burst on his mother's ear; and 
 the scorched, mangled, lifeless corpse, lay on that 
 mother's bosom! " 
 
 Adam rose; his figure was transformed not the 
 stooping student, but the knight-descended man, 
 seemed to tower in the murky chamber; his hand felt 
 at his side, as for a sword; he stifled a curse, and Hil- 
 yard, in that suppressed low voice which evinces a 
 strong mind in deep emotion, continued his tale. 
 
 " Blessed be the Divine Intercessor, the mother of 
 the dead died too! Behold me, a lonely, ruined, wife- 
 less, childless wretch! I made all the world my foe! 
 The old love of liberty (alone left me) became a crime;
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 171 
 
 I plunged into the gloom of the forest, a robber-chief, 
 sparing no, never never never! one York cap- 
 tain one spurred knight one belted lord! But the 
 poor, my Saxon countrymen, they had suffered, and 
 were safe! 
 
 " One dark twilight thou hast heard the tale 
 every village minstrel sets it to his viol a majestic 
 woman a hunted fugitive crossed my path; she led 
 a boy in her hand, a year or so younger than my mur- 
 dered child. 'Friend!' said the woman, fearlessly, 
 4 save the son of your king; I am Margaret, Queen 
 of England ! ' I saved them both. From that hour 
 the robber-chief, the Lollard's son, became a queen's 
 friend. Here opened, at least, vengeance against the 
 fell destroyer. Now see you why I seek you why 
 tempt you into danger? Pause, if you will, for my 
 passion heats my blood; and all the kings since Saul, 
 it may be, are not worth one scholar's life! And yet," 
 continued Hilyard, regaining his ordinary calm tone, 
 " and yet, it seemeth to me, as I said at first, that all 
 who labour have in this a common cause and interest 
 with the poor, This woman-king, though bloody 
 man, with his wine-cups and his harlots this usurp- 
 ing York his very existence flaunts the life of the 
 sons of toil. In civil war and in broil, in strife that 
 needs the arms of the people, the people shall get their 
 own." 
 
 " I will go," said Adam, and he advanced to the 
 door. 
 
 Hilyard caught his arm. " Why, friend, thou hast 
 not even the documents, and how wouldst thou get 
 access to the prison ? Listen to me ; or," added the con- 
 spirator, observing poor Adam's abstracted air, " or 
 let me rather speak a word to thy fair daughter;
 
 172 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 women have ready wit, and are the pioneers to the ad- 
 vance of men! Adam! Adam! thou art dreaming!" 
 He shook the philosopher's arm roughly. 
 
 " I heed you," said Warner, meekly. 
 
 " The first thing required," renewed Hilyard, " is a 
 permit to see King Henry. This is obtained either 
 from the Lord Worcester, governor of the Tower, a 
 cruel man, who may deny it or the Lord Hastings, 
 Edward's chamberlain, a humane and gentle one, who 
 will readily grant it. Let not thy daughter know why 
 thou wouldst visit Henry; let her suppose it is solely 
 to make report of his health to Margaret; let her not 
 know there is scheming or danger; so, at least, her 
 ignorance will secure her safety. But let her go to the 
 lord chamberlain, and obtain the order for a learned 
 clerk to visit the learned prisoner to ha! well 
 thought of this strange machine is, doubtless, the in- 
 vention of which thy neighbours speak; this shall 
 make thy excuse; thou wouldst divert the prisoner 
 with thy mechanical comprehendest thou, Adam?" 
 
 "Ah! King Henry will see the model, and when he 
 is on the throne " 
 
 " He will protect the scholar ! " interrupted Hilyard. 
 "Good! good! Wait here I will confer with thy 
 daughter." 
 
 He gently pushed aside Adam, opened the door, and 
 on descending the stairs, found Sibyll by the large 
 casement where she had stood with Marmaduke, and 
 heard the rude stave of the tymbesteres. 
 
 The anxiety the visit of Hilyard had occasioned her 
 was at once allayed, when he informed her that he had 
 been her father's schoolmate, and desired to become 
 his friend. And when he drew a moving picture of 
 the exiled condition of Margaret and the young prince,
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 173 
 
 and their natural desire to learn tidings of the health 
 of the deposed king, her gentle heart, forgetting the 
 haughty insolence with which her royal mistress had 
 often wounded and chilled her childhood, felt all the 
 generous and compassionate sympathy the conspirator 
 desired to awaken. " The occasion," added Hilyard, 
 " for learning the poor captive's state now offers ! He 
 hath heard of your father's labours; he desires to learn 
 their nature from his own lips. He is allowed to re- 
 ceive, by an order from King Edward's chamberlain, 
 the visits of those scholars in whose converse he was 
 ever wont to delight. Wilt thou so far aid the char- 
 itable work as to seek the Lord Hastings, and crave 
 the necessary licence? Thou seest that thy father has 
 wayward and abstract moods; he might forget that 
 Henry of Windsor is no longer king, and might give 
 him that title in speaking to Lord Hastings a slip of 
 the tongue which the law styles treason." 
 
 " Certes," said Sibyll, quickly, " if my father would 
 seek the poor captive, I will ,be his messenger to my 
 Lord Hastings. But, oh, sir! as thou hast known my 
 father's boyhood, and as thou hopest for mercy in the 
 last day, tempt to no danger one so guileless? " 
 
 Hilyard winced as he interrupted her hastily 
 
 " There is no danger if thou wilt obtain the licence. 
 I will say more a reward awaits him, that will not 
 only banish his poverty but save his life." 
 
 "His life!" 
 
 " Ay! seest thou not, fair mistress, that Adam War- 
 ner is dying, not of the body's hunger, but of the 
 soul's? He craveth gold, that his toils may reap their 
 guerdon. If that gold be denied, his toils will fret him 
 to the grave ! " 
 
 "Alas! alas! it is true."
 
 174 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 "That gold he shall honourably win! Nor is this 
 all. Thou wilt see the Lord Hastings: he is less 
 learned, perhaps, than Worcester less dainty in ac- 
 complishments and gifts than Anthony Woodville, but 
 his mind is profound and vast; all men praise him, 
 save the queen's kin. He loves scholars; he is mild 
 to distress ; he laughs at the superstitions of the vulgar. 
 Thou wilt see the Lord Hastings, and thou mayst in- 
 terest him in thy father's genius and his fate! " 
 
 " There is frankness in thy voice, and I will trust 
 thee," answered Sibyll. " When shall I seek this 
 lord? " 
 
 " This day, if thou wilt. He lodges at the Tower, 
 and gives access, it is said, to all who need his offices, 
 or seek succour from his power." 
 
 "This day, then, be it! " answered Sibyll, calmly. 
 
 Hilyard gazed at her countenance, rendered so noble 
 in its youthful resignation in its soft firmness of ex- 
 pression, and muttering, " Heaven prosper thee, 
 maiden; we shall meet to-morrow," descended the 
 stairs, and quitted the house. 
 
 His heart smote him when he was in the street. 
 " If evil should come to this meek scholar to that 
 poor child's father, it would be a sore sin to my soul. 
 But no; I will not think it. The saints will not suffer 
 this bloody Edward to triumph long; and in this vast 
 chess-board of vengeance and great ends, we must 
 move men to and fro, and harden our natures to the 
 hazard of the game." 
 
 Sibyll sought her father; his mind had flown back 
 to the model. He was already living in the life that 
 the promised gold would give to the dumb thought. 
 True that all the ingenious additions to the engine 
 additions that were to convince the reason and startle
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 175 
 
 the fancy, were not yet complete (for want, of course, 
 of the diamond bathed in moonbeams) but still there 
 was enough in the inventions already achieved to ex- 
 cite curiosity and obtain encouragement. So, with 
 care and diligence and sanguine hope, the philosopher 
 prepared the grim model for exhibition to a man who 
 had worn a crown, and might wear again. But with 
 that innocent and sad cunning which is so common 
 with enthusiasts of one idea, the sublime dwellers of 
 the narrow border between madness and inspiration, 
 Adam, amidst his excitement, contrived to conceal 
 from his daughter all glimpse of the danger he run, 
 of the correspondence of which he was to be the 
 medium, or rather, may we think that he had forgot- 
 ten both ! Not the stout Warwick himself, in the roar 
 of battle, thought so little of peril to life and limb as 
 that gentle student, in the reveries of his lonely closet: 
 and therefore, all unsuspicious, and seeing but diver- 
 sion to Adam's recent gloom of despair, an opening 
 to all his bright prospects, Sibyll attired herself in her 
 holiday garments, drew her wimple closely round her 
 face, and summoning Madge to attend her, bent her 
 way to the Tower. Near York House, within view of 
 the Sanctuary and the Palace of Westminster, they 
 took a boat, and arrived at the stairs of the Tower. 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 LORD HASTINGS 
 
 William Lord Hastings was one of the most re- 
 markable men of the age. Philip de Comines bears 
 testimony to his high repute for wisdom and virtue. 
 Born the son of a knight of ancient lineage but scanty
 
 176 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 lands, he had risen, while yet in the prime of life, to a 
 rank and an influence second, perhaps, only to the 
 house of Nevile. Like Lord Montagu, he united in 
 happy combination the talents of a soldier and a cour- 
 tier. But as a statesman a schemer a thinker 
 Montagu, with all his craft, was inferior to Hastings. 
 In this, the latter had but two equals viz., George, 
 the youngest of the Nevile brothers, Archbishop of 
 York; and a boy, whose intellect was not yet fully 
 developed, but in whom was already apparent to the 
 observant the dawn of a restless, fearless, calculating, 
 and subtle genius that boy, whom the philosophers 
 of Utrecht had taught to reason, whom the lessons 
 of Warwick had trained to arms, was Richard, Duke 
 of Gloucester, famous even now for his skill in the tilt- 
 yard and his ingenuity in the rhetoric of the schools. 
 
 The manners of Lord Hastings had contributed to 
 his fortunes. Despite the newness of his honours, 
 even the haughtiest of the ancient nobles bore him no 
 grudge, for his demeanour was at once modest and 
 manly. He was peculiarly simple and unostentatious 
 in his habits, and possessed that nameless charm which 
 makes men popular with the lowly and welcome to the 
 great.* But in that day a certain mixture of vice was 
 necessary to success; and Hastings wounded no self- 
 love by the assumption of unfashionable purism. He 
 was regarded with small favour by the queen, who 
 knew him as the companion of Edward in his pleas- 
 
 * On Edward's accession, so highly were the services of 
 Hastings appreciated by the party, that not only the king, but 
 many of the nobility, contributed to render his wealth equal 
 to his new station, by grants of lands and moneys. Several 
 years afterwards, when he went with Edward into France, no 
 less than two lords, nine knights, fifty-eight squires, and twen- 
 ty gentlemen joined his train. Dugdale's " Baronage," p. 583. 
 Sharon Turner's " History of England," vol. iii. p. 380.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 177 
 
 ures, and at a later period accused him of enticing her 
 faithless lord into unworthy affections. And certain 
 it is, that he was foremost amongst the courtiers in 
 those adventures which we call the excesses of gaiety 
 and folly, though too often leading to Solomon's wis- 
 dom and his sadness. But profligacy, with Hastings, 
 had the excuse of ardent passions: he had loved deep- 
 ly, and unhappily, in his earlier youth, and he gave in 
 to the dissipation of the time with the restless eager- 
 ness common to strong and active natures when the 
 heart is not at ease ; and under all the light fascination 
 of his converse, or the dissipation of his life, lurked the 
 melancholic temperament of a man worthy of nobler 
 things. Nor was the courtly vice of the libertine the 
 only drawback to the virtuous character assigned to 
 Hastings by Comines. His experience of men had 
 taught him something of the disdain of the cynic, and 
 he scrupled not at serving his pleasures or his ambi- 
 tion by means which his loftier nature could not ex- 
 cuse to his clear sense.* Still> however, the world, 
 which had deteriorated, could not harden, him. Few 
 persons so able acted so frequently from impulse; the 
 impulses were, for the most part, affectionate and gen- 
 erous, but then came the regrets of caution and experi- 
 ence; and Hastings summoned his intellect to correct 
 the movement of his heart in other words, reflection 
 sought to undo what impulse had suggested. Though 
 so successful a gallant, he had not acquired the ruth- 
 less egotism of the sensualist, and his conduct to 
 women often evinced the weakness of giddy youth, 
 rather than the cold deliberation of profligate man- 
 
 * See Comines. book vi., for a curious anecdote of what Mr. 
 Sharon Turner happily calls " the moral coquetry " of Hast- 
 ings; an anecdote which reveals much of his character. 
 
 VOL. I. 12
 
 i;8 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 hood. Thus in his veriest vices there was a spurious 
 amiability a seductive charm; while, in the graver 
 affairs of life, the intellectual susceptibility of his nat- 
 ure served but to quicken his penetration and stimu- 
 late his energies, and Hastings might have said, with 
 one of his Italian contemporaries, " That in subjec- 
 tion to the influences of women he had learned the 
 government of men." In a word, his powers to at- 
 tract, and his capacities to command, may be guessed 
 by this, that Lord Hastings was the only man Rich- 
 ard III. seems to have loved, when Duke of Glouces- 
 ter,* and the only man he seems to have feared, when 
 resolved to be King of England. Hastings was alone 
 in the apartments assigned to him in the Tower, when 
 his page, with a peculiar smile, announced to him the 
 visit of a young donzell, who would not impart her 
 business to his attendants. 
 
 The accomplished chamberlain looked up somewhat 
 impatiently from the beautiful MS., enriched with the 
 silver verse of Petrarch, which lay open on his table, 
 and after muttering to himself " It is only Edward 
 to whom the face of a woman never is unwelcome," 
 bade the page admit the visitor. 
 
 The damsel entered, and the door closed upon her. 
 
 " Be not alarmed, maiden," said Hastings, touched 
 by the downcast bend of the hooded countenance, and 
 the unmistakable and timid modesty of his visitor's 
 bearing. "What hast thou to say to me?" 
 
 At the sound of his voice, Sibyll Warner started, 
 and uttered a faint exclamation. The stranger of the 
 pastime-ground was before her. Instinctively she 
 drew the wimple yet more closely round her face, and 
 
 * Sir Thomas More, " Life of Edward V.," speaks of " the 
 great love " Richard bore to Hastings.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 179 
 
 laid her hand upon the bolt of the door as if in the 
 impulse of retreat. 
 
 The nobleman's curiosity was roused. He looked 
 again and earnestly on the form that seemed to shrink 
 from his gaze; then rising slowly, he advanced, and 
 laid his hand on her arm; " Donzell, I recognise 
 thee," he said, in a voice that sounded cold and stern 
 "What service wouldst thou ask me to render thee! 
 Speak! Nay! I pray thee, speak." 
 
 " Indeed, good my lord," said Sibyll, conquering her 
 confusion; and, lifting her wimple, her dark blue eyes 
 met those bent on her, with fearless truth and inno- 
 cence, " I knew not, and you will believe me I knew 
 not till this moment that I had such cause for gratitude 
 to the Lord Hastings. I sought you but on the behalf 
 of my father, Master Adam Warner, who would fain 
 have the permission accorded to other scholars, to see 
 the Lord Henry of Windsor, who was gracious to him 
 in other days, and to while the duress of that princely 
 captive with the show of a quaint instrument he has 
 invented." 
 
 " Doubtless," answered Hastings, who deserved his 
 character (rare in that day) for humanity and mildness 
 " doubtless it will pleasure me, nor offend his grace 
 the king, to show all courtesy and indulgence to the 
 unhappy gentleman and lord, whom the weal of Eng- 
 land condemns us to hold incarcerate. I have heard 
 of thy father, maiden, an honest and simple man, in 
 whom we need not fear a conspirator; and of thee, 
 young mistress, I have heard also, since we parted." 
 
 " Of me, noble sir? " 
 
 " Of thee," said Hastings, with a smile; and, placing 
 a seat for her, he took from the table an illuminated 
 MS. " I have to thank thy friend, Master Alwyn, for 
 procuring me this treasure!"
 
 i8o THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 " What, my lord ! " said Sibyll, and her eyes glis- 
 tened, " were you you the the " 
 
 " The fortunate person whom Alwyn has enriched 
 at so slight a cost. Yes. Do not grudge me my good 
 fortune in this. Thou hast nobler treasures, methinks, 
 to bestow on another! " 
 
 "My good lord!" 
 
 " Nay, I must not distress thee. And the young 
 gentleman has a fair face; may it bespeak a true 
 heart!" 
 
 These words gave Sibyll an emotion of strange de- 
 light. They seemed spoken sadly they seemed to 
 betoken a jealous sorrow they awoke the strange, 
 wayward woman-feeling, which is pleased at the pain 
 that betrays the women's influence: the girl's rosy lips 
 smiled maliciously. Hastings watched her, and her 
 face was so radiant with that rare gleam of secret hap- 
 piness so fresh, so young, so pure, and withal so arch 
 and captivating, that hackneyed and jaded as he was 
 in the vulgar pursuit of pleasure, the sight moved bet- 
 ter and tenderer feelings than those of the sensualist. 
 " Yes," he muttered to himself, " there are some toys 
 it were a sin to sport with and cast away amidst the 
 broken rubbish of gone passions!" 
 
 He turned to the table, and wrote the order of ad- 
 mission to Henry's prison, and as he gave it to Sibyll, 
 he said, " Thy young gallant, I see, is at the court 
 now. It is a perilous ordeal, and especially to one for 
 whom the name of Nevile opens the road to advance- 
 ment and honour. Men learn betimes in courts to for- 
 sake Love for Plutus, and many a wealthy lord would 
 give his heiress to the poorest gentleman who claims 
 kindred to the Earl of Salisbury and Warwick." 
 
 " May my father's guest so prosper," answered Sib- 
 yll, "for he seems of loyal heart and gentle nature!"
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 181 
 
 "Thou art unselfish, sweet mistress," said Hastings; 
 and, surprised by her careless tone, he paused a mo- 
 ment, "or art thou, in truth, indifferent? Saw I not 
 thy hand in his, when even those loathly tymbesteres 
 chanted warning to thee for loving, not above thy 
 merits, but, alas, it may be, above thy fortunes? " 
 
 Sibyll's delight increased. Oh, then, he had not 
 applied that hateful warning to himself! He guessed 
 not her secret. She blushed, and the blush was so 
 chaste and maidenly, while the smile that went with it 
 was so ineffably animated and joyous, that Hastings 
 exclaimed, with unaffected admiration, " Surely, fair 
 donzell, Petrarch dreamed of thee, when he spoke of 
 the woman-blush and the angel-smile of Laura. Woe 
 to the man who would injure thee. Farewell ! I 
 would not see thee too often, unless I saw thee ever." 
 
 He lifted her hand to his lips, with a chivalrous re- 
 spect, as he spoke; opened the door, and called his 
 page to attend her to the gates. 
 
 Sibyll was more flattered by the abrupt dismissal 
 than if he had knelt to detain her. How different 
 seemed the world as her light step wended homeward ! 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 MASTER ADAM WARNER AND KING HENRY THE SIXTH 
 
 The next morning Hilyard revisited Warner, with 
 the letters for Henry. The conspirator made Adam 
 reveal to him the interior mechanism of the Eureka, 
 to which Adam, who had toiled all night, had append- 
 ed one of the most ingenious contrivances he had as 
 yet been enabled (sans the diamond) to accomplish,
 
 1 82 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 for the better display of the agencies which the engine 
 was designed to achieve. This contrivance was full of 
 strange cells and recesses, in one of which the docu- 
 ments were placed. And there they lay, so well con- 
 cealed as to puzzle the minutest search, if not aided by 
 the inventor, or one to whom he had communicated 
 the secrets of the contrivance. 
 
 After repeated warnings and exhortations to discre- 
 tion, Hilyard then, whose busy, active mind had made 
 all the necessary arrangements, summoned a stout- 
 looking fellow, whom he had left below, and, with his 
 aid, conveyed the heavy machine across the garden, 
 to a back lane, where a mule stood ready to receive 
 the burden. 
 
 " Suffer this trusty fellow to guide thee, dear Adam ; 
 he will take thee through ways where thy brutal neigh- 
 bours are not likely to meet and molest thee. Call all 
 thy wits to the surface. Speed and prosper! " 
 
 " Fear not," said Adam, disdainfully. " In the 
 neighbourhood of kings, science is ever safe. Bless 
 thee, child," and he laid his hand upon Sibyll's head, 
 for she had accompanied them thus far in silence 
 " now go in." 
 
 " I go with thee, father," said Sibyll, firmly. " Mas- 
 ter Hilyard, it is best so," she whispered; " what if my 
 father fall into one of his reveries! " 
 
 " You are right : go with him, at least, to the 
 Tower-gate. Hard by, is the house of a noble dame, 
 and a worthy, known to our friend Hugh, where thou 
 mayest wait Master Warner's return. It will not suit 
 thy modesty and sex to loiter amongst the pages and 
 soldiery in the yard. Adam, thy daughter must wend 
 with thee." 
 
 Adam had not attended to this colloquy, and me-
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 183 
 
 chanically bowing his head, he set off, and was greatly 
 surprised, on gaining the river side (where a boat was 
 found large enough to accommodate not only the 
 human passengers, but the mule and its burden), to 
 see Sibyll by his side. 
 
 The imprisonment of the unfortunate Henry, though 
 guarded with sufficient rigour against all chances of 
 escape, was not, as the reader has perceived, at this 
 period embittered by unnecessary harshness. His at- 
 tendants treated him with respect, his table was sup- 
 plied more abundantly and daintily than his habitual 
 abstinence required, and the monks and learned men 
 whom he had favoured, were, we need not repeat, per- 
 mitted to enliven his solitude with their grave con- 
 verse. 
 
 On the other hand, all attempts at correspondence 
 between Margaret, or the exiled Lancastrians and him- 
 self, had been jealously watched, and when detected, 
 the emissaries had been punished with relentless sever- 
 ity. A man named Hawkins had been racked for at- 
 tempting to borrow money for the queen from the 
 great London merchant, Sir Thomas Cook. A shoe- 
 maker had been tortured to death, with red-hot pincers, 
 for abetting her correspondence with her allies. Va- 
 rious persons had been racked for similar offences, but 
 the energy of Margaret, and the zeal of her adherents, 
 were still unexhausted and unconquered. 
 
 Either unconscious or contemptuous of the perils to 
 which he was subjected, the student, with his silent 
 companions, performed the voyage, and landed in 
 sight of the Fortress-Palatine. And now Hugh 
 stopped before a house of good fashion, knocked at the 
 door, which was opened by an old servitor, disappeared 
 for a few moments, and returning, informed Sibyll, in
 
 184 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 a meaning whisper, that the gentlewoman within was 
 a good Lancastrian, and prayed the donzell to rest in 
 her company till Master Warner's return. 
 
 Sibyll, accordingly, after pressing her father's hand 
 without fear for she had deemed the sole danger 
 Adam risked was from the rabble by the way ful- 
 lowed Hugh into a fair chamber, strewed with rushes, 
 where an aged dame, of noble air and aspect, was em- 
 ployed at her broidery frame. This gentlewoman, the 
 widow of a nobleman who had fallen in the service 
 of Henry, received her graciously, and Hugh then re- 
 tired to complete his commission. The student, the 
 mule, the model, and the porter, pursued their way to 
 the entrance of that part of the gloomy palace inhab- 
 ited by Henry. Here they were stopped, and Adam, 
 after rummaging long in vain for the chamberlain's 
 passport, at last happily discovered it, pinned to his 
 sleeve, by Sibyll's forethought. On this a gentleman 
 was summoned to inspect the order, and in a few mo- 
 ments Adam was conducted to the presence of the il- 
 lustrious prisoner. 
 
 " And what," said a subaltern officer, lolling by the 
 archway of the (now styled) " Bloody Tower," hard by 
 the turret devoted to the prisoner,* and speaking to 
 Adam's guide, who still mounted guard by the model, 
 " what may be the precious burden of which thou 
 art the convoy? " 
 
 " Marry, sir," said Hugh, who spoke in the strong 
 Yorkshire dialect, which we are obliged to render into 
 intelligible English " marry, I weet not, it is some 
 curious puppet-box, or quiet contrivance, that Master 
 Warner, whom they say is a very deft and ingenious 
 personage, is permitted to bring hither for the Lord 
 Henry's diversion." 
 
 * The Wakefield Tower.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 185 
 
 " A puppet-box ! " said the officer, with much ani- 
 mated curiosity. " Fore the mass ! that must be a 
 pleasant sight. Lift the lid, fellow ! " 
 
 " Please your honour, I do not dare," returned 
 Hugh " I but obey orders." 
 
 " Obey mine, then. Out of the way! " and the offi- 
 cer lifted the lid of the pannier with the point of his 
 dagger, and peeped within. He drew back, much dis- 
 appointed "Holy mother!" said he, "this seemeth 
 more like an instrument of torture, than a juggler's 
 merry device. It looks parlous ugly! " 
 
 " Hush ! " said one of the lazy bystanders, with 
 whom the various gateways and courts of the palace- 
 fortress were crowded, " hush! thy cap and thy knee, 
 sir! " 
 
 The officer started; and, looking round, perceived a 
 young man of low stature, followed by three or four 
 knights and nobles, slowly approaching towards the 
 arch, and every cap in the vicinity was off, and every 
 knee bowed. 
 
 The eye of this young man was already bent, with 
 a searching and keen gaze, upon the motionless mule, 
 standing patiently by the Wakefield Tower; and turn- 
 ing from the mule to the porter, the latter shrunk, and 
 grew pale, at that dark, steady, penetrating eye, which 
 seemed to pierce at once into the secrets and hearts 
 of men. 
 
 "Who may this young lord be?" he whispered to 
 the officer. 
 
 " Prince Richard, Duke of Gloucester, man," was 
 the answer. " Uncover, varlet! " 
 
 " Surely," said the prince, pausing by the gate, 
 " surely this is no sumpter-mule, bearing provisions to 
 the Lord Henry of Windsor. It would be but poor
 
 1 86 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 respect to that noble person, whom, alas the day! his 
 grace the king is unwillingly compelled to guard from 
 the malicious designs of rebels and mischief-seekers, 
 that one not bearing the king's livery should attend 
 10 any of the needful wants of so worshipful a lord and 
 guest! " 
 
 " My lord," said the officer at the gate, " one Master 
 Adam Warner hath just, by permission, been conduct- 
 ed to the Lord Henry's presence, and the beast beareth 
 some strange and grim-looking device for my lord's 
 diversion." 
 
 The singular softness and urbanity which generally 
 characterised the Duke of Gloucester's tone and bear- 
 ing at that time, which, in a court so full of factions 
 and intrigues made him the enemy of none, and seem- 
 ingly the friend of all, and, conjoined with abilities 
 already universally acknowledged, had given to his 
 very boyhood a pre-eminence of grave repute and good 
 opinion, which, indeed, he retained till the terrible cir- 
 cumstances connected with his accession to the throne, 
 under the bloody name of Richard the Third, roused 
 all men's hearts and reasons into the persuasion that 
 what before had seemed virtue was but dissimulation; 
 this singular sweetness, we say, of manner and voice, 
 had in it, nevertheless, something that imposed, and 
 thrilled, and awed. And, in truth, in our common and 
 more vulgar intercourse with life, we must have ob- 
 served, that where external gentleness of bearing is ac- 
 companied by a repute for iron will, determined reso- 
 lution, and a serious, profound, and all-inquiring 
 intellect, it carries with it a majesty wholly distinct 
 from that charm which is exercised by one whose mild- 
 ness of nature corresponds with the outward humility; 
 and, if it does not convey the notion of falseness, bears
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 187 
 
 the appearance of that perfect self-possession, that 
 calm 'repose of power, which intimidates those it influ- 
 ences far more than the imperious port and the loud 
 voice. And they who best knew the duke, knew also 
 that, despite this general smoothness of mien, his tem- 
 perament was naturally irritable, quick, and subject to 
 stormy gusts of passion, the which defects his admirers 
 praised him for labouring hard and sedulously to keep 
 in due control. Still, to a keen observer, the consti- 
 tutional tendencies of that nervous temperament were 
 often visible, even in his blandest moments even 
 when his voice was most musical, his smile most gra- 
 cious. If something stung, or excited him, an uneasy 
 gnawing of the nether lip, a fretful playing with his 
 dagger, drawing it up and down from its sheath,* a 
 slight twitching of the muscles of the face, and a quiver 
 of the eyelid, betokened the efforts he made at self- 
 command; and now, as his dark eyes rested upon 
 Hugh's pale countenance, and then glanced upon the 
 impassive mule, dozing quietly under the weight of 
 poor Adam's model, his hand mechanically sought his 
 dagger-hilt, and his face took a sinister and sombre 
 expression. 
 
 " Thy name, friend? " 
 
 " Hugh Withers please you, my lord duke." 
 
 " Um ! North country, by thine accent. Dost thou 
 serve this Master Warner? " 
 
 " No, my lord, I was only hired with my mule to 
 carry " 
 
 "Ah! true! to carry what thy pannier contains; 
 
 open it. Holy Paul! a strange jonglerie indeed! This 
 
 Master Adam Warner, methinks, I have heard his 
 
 name a learned man um let me see his safe con- 
 
 * Pol. Virg. 565.
 
 188 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 duct. Right it is Lord Hastings's signature." But 
 still the prince held the passport, and still suspiciously 
 eyed the Eureka and its appliances, which, in their 
 complicated and native ugliness of doors, wheels, pipes, 
 and chimney, were exposed to his view. At this mo- 
 ment one of the attendants of Henry descended the 
 stairs of the Wakefield Tower, with a request that the 
 model might be carried up to divert the prisoner. 
 
 Richard paused a moment, as the officer hesitatingly 
 watched his countenance before giving the desired per- 
 mission. But the prince, turning to him, and smooth- 
 ing his brow, said mildly " Certes! all that can divert 
 the Lord Henry must be innocent pastime. And I am 
 well pleased that he hath this cheerful mood for recre- 
 ation. It gainsayeth those who would accuse us of 
 rigour in his durance. Yes, this warrant is complete 
 and formal ; " and the prince returned the passport to 
 the officer, and walked slowly on through that gloomy 
 arch ever more associated with Richard of Gloucester's 
 memory, and beneath the very room in which our be- 
 lief yet holds that the infant sons of Edward IV. 
 breathed their last; still, as Gloucester moved, he 
 turned and turned, and kept his eye furtively fixed 
 upon the porter. 
 
 " Lovell," he said to one of the gentlemen who at- 
 tended him, and who was among the few admitted to 
 his more peculiar intimacy " that man is of the 
 north." 
 
 "Well, my lord?" 
 
 " The north was always well affected to the Lancas- 
 trians. Master Warner hath been accused of witch- 
 craft. Marry, I should like to see his device urn; 
 Master Catesby, come hither approach, sir. Go 
 back, and the instant Adam Warner and his contriv-
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 189 
 
 ance are dismissed bring them both to me in the 
 king's chamber. Thou understandest? We too would 
 see his device and let neither man nor mechanical, 
 when once they re-appear, out of thine eye's reach. 
 For divers and subtle are the contrivances of treason- 
 able men! " 
 
 Catesby bowed, and Richard, without speaking fur- 
 ther, took his way to the royal apartments, which lay 
 beyond the White Tower, towards the river, and are 
 long since demolished. 
 
 Meanwhile the porter, with the aid of one of the at- 
 tendants, had carried the model into the chamber of 
 the august captive. Henry, attired in a loose robe, 
 was pacing the room with a slow step, and his head 
 sunk on his bosom, while Adam, with much anima- 
 tion, was enlarging on the wonders of the contrivance 
 he was about to show him. The chamber was com- 
 modious, and furnished with sufficient attention to the 
 state and dignity of the prisoner; for Edward, though 
 savage and relentless when his blood was up, never 
 descended into the cool and continuous cruelty of de- 
 tail. 
 
 The chamber may yet be seen; its shape a spacious 
 octagon; but the walls now rude and bare, were then 
 painted and blazoned with scenes from the Old Testa- 
 ment. The door opened beneath the pointed arch in 
 the central side (not where it now does), giving en- 
 trance from a small ante-room, in which the visitor 
 now beholds the receptacle for old rolls and papers. 
 At the right, on entering, where now, if our memory 
 mistake not, is placed a press, stood the bed, quaintly 
 carved, and with hangings of damascene. At the far- 
 ther end, the deep recess which faced the ancient door 
 was fitted up as a kind of oratory. And there were to
 
 190 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 be seen, besides the crucifix and the mass-book, a pro- 
 fusion of small vessels of gold and crystal, containing 
 the relics, supposed or real, of saint and martyr, treas- 
 ures which the deposed king had collected in his palm- 
 ier days at a sum that, in the minds of his followers, 
 had been better bestowed on arms and war-steeds. 
 A young man named Allerton one of the three gen- 
 tlemen personally attached to Henry, to whom Edward 
 had permitted general access, and who, in fact, lodged 
 in other apartments of the Wakefield Tower, and 
 might be said to share his captivity was seated before 
 a table, and following the steps of his musing master, 
 with earnest and watchful eyes. 
 
 One of the small spaniels employed in springing 
 game for Henry, despite his mildness, had been fond 
 of all the sports of the field lay curled round on the 
 floor, but started up, with a shrill bark, at the entrance 
 of the bearer of the model, while a starling, in a cage 
 by the window, seemingly delighted at the disturbance, 
 flapped his wings, and screamed out, " Bad men ! Bad 
 world! Poor Henry!" 
 
 The captive paused at that cry, and a sad and pa- 
 tient smile of inexpressible melancholy and sweetness 
 hovered over his lips. Henry still retained much of 
 the personal comeliness he possessed at the time when 
 Margaret of Anjou, the theme of minstrel and minne- 
 singer, left her native court of poets for the fatal throne 
 of England. But beauty, usually so popular and pre- 
 cious a gift to kings, was not in him of that order which 
 commanded the eye and moved the admiration of a 
 turbulent people and a haughty chivalry. The features, 
 if regular, were small ; their expression meek and timid ; 
 the form, though tall, was not firm-knit and muscular; 
 the lower limbs were too thin, the body had too much
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 191 
 
 flesh, the delicate hands betrayed the sickly paleness 
 of feeble health; there was a dreamy vagueness in the 
 clear soft blue eyes, and a listless absence of all energy 
 in the habitual bend, the slow, heavy, sauntering tread 
 all about that benevolent aspect, that soft voice, that 
 resigned mien, and gentle manner, spoke the exquisite 
 unresisting goodness, which provoked the lewd to 
 taunt, the hardy to despise, the insolent to rebel: for 
 the foes of a king in stormy times are often less his 
 vices than his virtues. 
 
 " And now, good my lord," said Adam, hastening, 
 with eager hands, to assist the bearer in depositing the 
 model on the table " now will I explain to you the 
 contrivance which it hath cost me long years of patient 
 toil to shape from thought into this iron form." 
 
 " But first," said Allerton, " were it not well that 
 these good people withdrew? A contriver likes not 
 others to learn his secret ere the time hath come to 
 reap its profits." 
 
 " Surely surely ! " said Adam, and alarmed at the 
 idea thus suggested, he threw the folds of his gown 
 over the model. 
 
 The attendant bowed and retired; Hugh followed 
 him, but not till he had exchanged a significant look 
 with Allerton. 
 
 As soon as the room was left clear to Adam, the cap- 
 tive, and Master Allerton, the last rose, and looking 
 hastily round the chamber, approached the mecha- 
 nician. " Quick, sir ! " said he in a whisper, " we are 
 not often left without witnesses." 
 
 " Verily," said Adam, who had now forgot kings 
 and stratagems, plots and counterplots, and was all ab- 
 sorbed in his invention, " verily, young man, hurry not 
 in this fashion I am about to begin. Know, ray
 
 192 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 lord," and he turned to Henry, who, with an indolent, 
 dreamy gaze, stood contemplating the Eureka, 
 " know that more than a hundred years before the 
 Christian era, one Hero, an Alexandrian, discovered 
 the force produced by the vapour begot by heat on 
 water. That this power was not unknown to the an- 
 cient sages, witness the contrivances, not otherwise to 
 be accounted for, of the heathen oracles; but to our 
 great countryman and predecessor, Roger Bacon, who 
 first suggested that vehicles might be drawn without 
 steeds or steers, and ships might " 
 
 " Marry, sir," interrupted Allerton, with great im- 
 patience, " it is not to prate to us of such trivial fables 
 of Man, or such wanton sports of the Foul Fiend, that 
 thou hast risked life and limb. Time is precious. I have 
 been prevised that thou hast letters for King Henry; 
 produce them quick! " 
 
 A deep glow of indignation had overspread the en- 
 thusiast's face at the commencement of this address; 
 but the close reminded him, in truth, of his errand. 
 
 " Hot youth," said he, with dignity, " a future age 
 may judge differently of what thou deemest trivial 
 fables, and may rate high this poor invention when the 
 brawls of York and Lancaster are forgotten." 
 
 " Hear him," said Henry, with a soft smile, and lay- 
 ing his hand on the shoulder of the young man, who 
 was about to utter a passionate and scornful retort 
 " Hear him, sir." Have I not often and ever said this 
 same thing to thee? We children of a day imagine 
 our contests are the sole things that move the world. 
 Alack! our fathers thought the same; and they and 
 their turmoils sleep forgotten! Nay, Master Warner," 
 for here Adam, poor man, awed by Henry's mild- 
 ness into shame at his discourteous vaunting, began to
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 193 
 
 apologise, " nay, sir, nay thou art right to contemn 
 our bloody and futile struggles for a crown of thorns : 
 
 for 
 
 " Kingdoms are but cares, 
 State is devoid of stay; 
 Riches are ready snares, 
 And hasten to decay." * 
 
 And yet, sir, believe me, thou hast no cause for vain 
 glory in thine own craft and labours ; for to wit and to 
 lere there are the same vanity and vexation of spirit 
 as to war and empire. Only, O would-be wise man, 
 only when we muse on Heaven, do our souls ascend 
 from the fowler's snare ! " 
 
 " My saint-like liege," said Allerton, bowing low, 
 and with tears in his eyes, " thinkest thou not that thy 
 very disdain of thy rights makes thee more worthy of 
 them? If not for thine, for thy son's sake remember 
 that the usurper sits on the throne of the conqueror of 
 Agincourt! Sir Clerk, the letters." 
 
 Adam, already anxious to retrieve the error of his 
 first forgetfulness, here, after a moment's struggle for 
 the necessary remembrance, drew the papers from the 
 labyrinthine receptacle which concealed them; and 
 Henry uttered' an exclamation of joy as, after cutting 
 the silk, his eye glanced over the writing 
 
 "My Margaret! my wife!" Presently he grew 
 pale, and his hands trembled. "Saints defend her! 
 Saints defend her! She is here, disguised, in Lon- 
 don!" 
 
 " Margaret! our hero-queen! the manlike woman! " 
 exclaimed Allerton, clasping his hands " Then be 
 
 * Lines ascribed to Henry VI., with commendation " as a 
 prettie verse," by Sir John Harrington, in the " Nugae An- 
 tiquse." They are also given, with little alteration, to the un- 
 happy king by Baldwin, in his tragedy of " King Henry VI." 
 
 VOL. I. 13
 
 194 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 sure that " He stopped, and abruptly taking 
 
 Adam's arm, drew him aside, while Henry continued 
 to read " Master Warner, we may trust thee thou 
 art one of us thou art sent here, I know, by Robin of 
 Redesdale we may trust thee?" 
 
 " Young sir," replied the philosopher, gravely, " the 
 fears and hopes of power are not amidst the uneasier 
 passions of the student's mind. I pledged myself but 
 to bear these papers hither, and to return with what 
 may be sent back." 
 
 " But thou didst this for love of the cause, the truth, 
 and the right?" 
 
 " I did it partly from Hilyard's tale of wrong but 
 partly, also, for the gold," answered Adam, simply; 
 and his noble air, his high brow, the serene calm of his 
 features, so contrasted with the meanness implied in 
 the latter words of his confession, that Allerton stared 
 at him amazed, and without reply. 
 
 Meanwhile Henry had concluded the letter, and 
 with a heavy sigh glanced over the papers that accom- 
 panied it. 
 
 "Alack! alack! more turbulence, more danger, and 
 disquiet more of my people's blood ! " He motioned 
 to the young man, and drawing him to the window, 
 while Adam returned to his model, put the papers in 
 his hand. "Allerton," he said, "thou lovest me, but 
 thou art one of the few in this distraught land who love 
 also God. Thou art not one of the warriors, the men 
 of steel. Counsel me. See Margaret demands my 
 signature to these papers; the one, empowering and 
 craving the levy of men and arms in the northern 
 counties; the other, promising free pardon to all who 
 will desert Edward; the third it seemeth to me more 
 strange and less kinglike than the others, undertak-
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 195 
 
 ing to abolish all the imposts and all the laws that 
 press upon the commons, and (is this a holy and pious 
 stipulation?) to inquire into the exactions and persecu- 
 tions of the priesthood of our Holy Church ! " 
 
 "Sire!" said the young man, after he had hastily 
 perused the papers, " my lady liege showeth good ar- 
 gument for your assent to two, at least, of these under- 
 takings. See the names of fifty gentlemen ready to 
 take arms in your cause if authorised by your royal 
 warrant. The men of the North are malcontent with 
 the usurper, but they will not yet stir, unless at your 
 own command. Such documents will, of course, be 
 used with discretion, and not to imperil your grace's 
 safety." 
 
 " My safety! " said Henry, with a flash of his father's 
 hero-soul in his eyes " of that I think not! If I have 
 small courage to attack, I have some fortitude to bear. 
 But, three months after these be signed, how many 
 brave hearts will be still! how many stout hands be 
 dust! O Margaret! Margaret! why temptest thou? 
 Wert thou so happy when a queen?" 
 
 The prisoner broke from Allerton's arm, and walked, 
 in great disorder and irresolution, to and fro the cham- 
 ber; and strange it was to see the contrast between 
 himself and Warner both, in so much alike both so 
 purely creatures out of the common world, so gentle 
 abstract so utterly living in the life apart : and now, 
 the student so calm, the prince so disturbed! The con- 
 trast struck Henry himself! He paused abruptly, 
 and, folding his arms, contemplated the philosopher, 
 as, with an affectionate complacency, Adam played 
 and toyed, as it were, with his beloved model; now 
 opening and shutting again its doors now brushing 
 away with his sleeve some particles of dust that had
 
 196 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 settled on it now retiring a few paces to gaze the bet- 
 ter on its stern symmetry. 
 
 " Oh, my Allerton ! " cried Henry, " behold ! the 
 kingdom a man makes out of his own mind is the only 
 one that it delighteth man to govern! Behold, he is 
 lord over its springs and movements; its wheels re- 
 volve and stop at his bidding. Here, here, alone, God 
 never asketh the ruler ' Why was the blood of thou- 
 sands poured forth like water, that a worm might wear 
 a crown?' ' 
 
 " Sire," said Allerton, solemnly, " when our Heav- 
 enly King appoints his anointed representative on 
 earth, he gives to that human delegate no power to 
 resign the ambassade and trust. What suicide is to a 
 man, abdication is to a king! How canst thou dis- 
 pose of thy son's rights? And what become of those 
 rights if thou wilt prefer for him the exile for thyself, 
 the prison, when one effort may restore a throne! " 
 
 Henry seemed struck by a tone of argument that 
 suited both his own mind and the reasoning of the age. 
 He gazed a moment on the face of the young man, 
 muttered to himself, and suddenly moving to the table, 
 signed the papers, and restored them to Adam, who 
 mechanically replaced them in their iron hiding- 
 place : 
 
 " Now begone, sir! " whispered Allerton, afraid that 
 Henry's mind might again change. 
 
 "Will not my lord examine the engine?" asked 
 Warner, half-beseechingly. 
 
 " Not to-day ! See, he has already retired to his 
 oratory he is in prayer!" and, going to the door, 
 Allerton summoned the attendants in waiting to carry 
 down the model. 
 
 " Well, well patience, patience thou shalt have
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 197 
 
 thine audience at last," muttered Adam, as he retired 
 from the room, his eyes fixed upon the neglected in- 
 fant of his brain. 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 HOW, ON LEAVING KING LOG, FOOLISH WISDOM RUNS 
 A-MUCK ON KING STORK 
 
 At the outer, door of the Tower by which he had 
 entered, the philosopher was accosted by Catesby a 
 man who, in imitation of his young patron, exhibited 
 the soft and oily manner which concealed intense am- 
 bition and innate ferocity. 
 
 " Worshipful, my master," said he, bowing low, but 
 with a half sneer on his lips, " the king and his High- 
 ness the Duke of Gloucester have heard much of your 
 strange skill, and command me to lead you to their 
 presence. Follow, sir, and you, my men, convey this 
 quaint contrivance to the king's apartments." 
 
 With this, not waiting for any reply, Catesby strode 
 on. Hugh's face fell he turned very pale, and, im- 
 agining himself unobserved, turned round to slink 
 away. But Catesby, who seemed to have eyes at the 
 back of his head, called out, in a mild tone 
 
 " Good fellow, help to bear the mechanical you, 
 too, may be needed." 
 
 "Cog's wounds!" muttered Hugh, "an' I had but 
 known what it was to set my foot in a king's palace! 
 Such walking may do for the silken shoon, but the 
 hobnail always gets into a hobble." With that, affect- 
 ing a cheerful mien, he helped to replace the model on 
 the mule. 
 
 Meanwhile, Adam, elated, poor man! at the flattery
 
 198 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 of the royal mandate, persuaded that his fame had 
 reached Edward's ears, and chafed at the little heed 
 paid by the pious Henry to his great work, stalked on, 
 his head in the air. " Verily," mused the student, 
 " King Edward may have been a cruel youth, and 
 over hasty; it is horrible to think of Robin Hilyard's 
 calamities! But men do say he hath an acute and 
 masterly comprehension. Doubtless, he will perceive 
 at a glance how much I can advantage his kingdom." 
 With this, we grieve to say, selfish reflection which, 
 if the thought of his model could have slept awhile, 
 Adam would have blushed to recall, as an affront to 
 Hilyard's wrongs the philosopher followed Catesby 
 across the spacious yard, along a narrow passage, and 
 up a winding turret-stair, to a room in the third story, 
 which opened at one door into the king's closet, at the 
 other into the spacious gallery, which was already a 
 feature in the plan of the more princely houses. In 
 another minute Adam and his model were in the pres- 
 ence of the king. The part of the room in which Ed- 
 ward sate was distinguished from the rest by a small 
 eastern carpet on the floor (a luxury more in use in the 
 palaces of that day than it appears to have been a cen- 
 tury later);* a table was set before him, on which the 
 model was placed. At his right hand sat Jacquetta, 
 Duchess of Bedford, the queen's mother; at his left, 
 Prince Richard. The duchess, though not without 
 the remains of beauty, had a stern, haughty, scornful 
 expression, in her sharp aquiline features, compressed 
 lips, and imperious eye. The paleness of her complex- 
 ion, and the careworn anxious lines of her counte- 
 nance, were ascribed by the vulgar to studies of no 
 
 * See the Narrative of the Lord Grauthuse, before re- 
 ferred to.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 199 
 
 holy cast. Her reputation for sorcery and witchcraft 
 was daily increasing, and served well the purpose of 
 the discontented barons, whom the rise of her chil- 
 dren mortified and enraged. 
 
 " Approach, Master What say you his name 
 
 is, Richard?" 
 
 " Adam Warner," replied the sweet voice of the 
 Duke of Gloucester, " of excellent skill in the mathe- 
 matics." 
 
 " Approach, sir, and show us the nature of this not- 
 able invention." 
 
 " I desire nothing better, my lord king," said Adam, 
 boldly. " But first, let me crave a small modicum of 
 fuel. Fire, which is the life of the world, as the wise 
 of old held it, is also the soul of this my mechanical." 
 
 " Peradventure," whispered the duchess, " the wiz- 
 ard desireth to consume us! " 
 
 " More likely," replied Richard, in the same under- 
 tone, " to consume whatever of treasonable nature may 
 lurk concealed in his engine." 
 
 " True," said Edward, and then, speaking aloud, 
 " Master Warner," he added, " put thy puppet to its 
 purpose without fire; we will it." 
 
 " It is impossible, my lord," said Adam, with a lofty 
 smile. " Science and nature are more powerful than 
 a king's word." 
 
 " Do not say that in public, my friend," said Edward 
 drily, "or we must hang thee! I would not my sub- 
 jects were told anything so treasonable. Howbeit, to 
 give thee no excuse in failure, thou shalt have what 
 thou needest." 
 
 " But surely not in our presence," exclaimed the 
 duchess. " This may be a device of the Lancastrians 
 for our perdition."
 
 200 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 "As you please, belle mere," said Edward, and he 
 motioned to a gentleman, who stood a few paces be- 
 hind his chair, and who, from the entrance of the 
 mechanician, had seemed to observe him with intense 
 interest. "Master Nevile, attend this wise man; sup- 
 ply his wants, and hark, in thy ear, watch well that he 
 abstract nothing from the womb of his engine ob- 
 serve what he doeth be all eyes." Marmaduke 
 bowed low to conceal his change of countenance, and, 
 stepping forward, made a sign to Adam to follow him. 
 
 " Go also, Catesby," said Richard to his follower, 
 who had taken his post near him, " and clear the cham- 
 ber." 
 
 As soon as the three members of the royal family 
 were left alone, the king, stretching himself, with a 
 slight yawn, observed, " This man looks not like a 
 conspirator, brother Richard, though his sententiary 
 as to nature and science lacked loyalty and respect." 
 
 " Sire and brother," answered Richard, " great lead- 
 ers often dupe their own tools; at least, meseemeth 
 that they would reason well so to do. Remember, I 
 have told thee that there is strong cause to suppose 
 Margaret to be in London. In the suburbs of the city 
 has also appeared, within the last few weeks, that 
 strange and dangerous person, whose very objects are 
 a mystery, save that he is our foe, Robin of Redes- 
 dale. The men of the North have exhibited a spirit 
 of insurrection; a man of that country attends this re- 
 puted wizard, and he himself was favoured in past 
 times by Henry of Windsor. These are ominous 
 signs when the conjunctions be considered! " 
 
 "It is well said; but a fair day for breathing our 
 palfrey is half spent ! " returned the indolent prince. 
 " By'r lady! I like the fashion of thy supertunic well,
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 201 
 
 Richard; but thou hast it too much puffed over the 
 shoulders." 
 
 Richard's dark eye shot fire, and he gnawed his lip 
 as he answered " God hath not given to me the fair 
 shape of my kinsmen!" 
 
 " Thy pardon, dear boy," said Edward, kindly; " yet 
 little needest T.iou our broad backs and strong sinews, 
 for thou hast a tongue to charm women, and a wit to 
 command men." 
 
 Richard bowed his face, little less beautiful than his 
 brother's, though wholly different from it in feature, 
 for Edward had the long oval countenance, the fair 
 hair, the rich colouring, and the large outline of his 
 mother, the Rose of Raby. Richard, on the contrary, 
 had the short face, the dark brown locks, and the pale 
 olive complexion of his father, whom he alone of the 
 royal brothers strikingly resembled.* The cheeks, 
 too, were somewhat sunken, and already, though 
 scarcely past childhood, about his lips were seen the 
 lines of thoughtful manhood. But then those small 
 features, delicately aquiline, were so regular that dark 
 eye was so deep, so fathomless in its bright musing in- 
 telligence that quivering lip was at once so beauti- 
 fully formed and so expressive of intellectual subtlety 
 and haughty will and that pale forehead was so mas- 
 sive, high, and majestic, that when, at a later period, 
 the Scottish prelate f commended Richard's " princely 
 
 * Pol. Virg. 544. 
 
 t Archibald Quhitlaw. " Faciem tuam summo imperio prin- 
 cipatu dignam inspicit, quam moralis et heroica, virtus illus- 
 trat," &c. We need scarcely observe that even a Scotchman 
 would not have risked a public compliment to Richard's face, 
 if so inappropriate as to seem a sarcasm, especially as the 
 orator immediately proceeds to notice the shortness of Rich- 
 ard's stature a comment not likely to have been peculiarly 
 acceptable. In the Rous Roll, the portrait of Richard repre-
 
 202 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 countenance" the compliment was not one to be dis- 
 puted, much less contemned. But now as he rose, 
 obedient to a whisper from the duchess, and followed 
 her to the window, while Edward appeared engaged 
 in admiring the shape of his own long upturned shoes, 
 those defects in his shape which the popular hatred and 
 the rise of the House of Tudor exaggerated into the 
 absolute deformity, that the unexamining ignorance 
 of modern days, and Shakespeare's fiery tragedy, have 
 fixed established caricature, were sufficiently apparent. 
 Deformed or hunchbacked, we need scarcely say he 
 was not, for no man so disfigured could have possessed 
 that great personal strength which he invariably ex- 
 hibited in battle, despite the comparative slightness of 
 his frame. He was considerably below the ordinary 
 height, which the great stature of his brother ren- 
 dered yet more disadvantageous by contrast, but his 
 lower limbs were strong-jointed and muscular. 
 Though the back was not curved, yet one shoulder was 
 slightly higher than the other, which was the more 
 observable from the evident pains that he took to dis- 
 guise it, and the gorgeous splendour, savouring of per- 
 sonal coxcombry from which no Plantagenet was 
 ever free, that he exhibited in his dress. And as, in 
 a warlike age, the physical conformation of men is al- 
 ways critically regarded, so this defect, and that of his 
 low stature, were not so much redeemed as they would 
 be in our day by the beauty and intelligence of his face. 
 Added to this, his neck was short, and a habit of bend- 
 ing his head on his bosom (arising either from thought, 
 or the affectation of humility, which was a part of his 
 
 sents him as undersized, but compactly and strongly built, and 
 without any sign of deformity, unless the inelegant defect of 
 a short neck can be so called.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 203 
 
 character), made it seem shorter still. But this pecu- 
 liarity, while taking from the grace, added to the 
 strength of his frame, which, spare, sinewy, and com- 
 pact, showed to an observer that power of endurance 
 that combination of solid stubbornness and active 
 energy, which, at the battle of Barnet, made him no 
 less formidable to encounter than the ruthless sword 
 of the mighty Edward. 
 
 " So, prince," said the duchess, " this new gentle- 
 man of the king's is, it seems, a Nevile. When will 
 Edward's high spirit cast off that hateful yoke?" 
 
 Richard sighed and shook his head. The duch- 
 ess, encouraged by these signs of sympathy, contin- 
 ued 
 
 " Your brother Clarence, Prince Richard, despises 
 us, to cringe to the proud earl. But you " 
 
 " I am not suitor to the Lady Isabel ; Clarence is 
 overlavish, and Isabel has a fair face and a queenly 
 dowry." 
 
 " May I perish," said the duchess, " ere Warwick's 
 daughter wears the baudekin of royalty, and sits in as 
 high a state as the queen's mother! Prince, I would 
 fain confer with thee; we have a project to abase and 
 banish this hateful lord. If you but join us, success 
 is sure; the Count of Charolois " 
 
 " Dear lady," interrupted Richard, with an air of 
 profound humility, " tell me nothing of plot or proj- 
 ect; my years are too few for such high and subtle 
 policy; and the Lord Warwick hath been a leal friend 
 to our House of York." 
 
 The duchess bit her lip " Yet I have heard you tell 
 Edward that a subject can be too powerful?" 
 
 " Never, lady ! you have never heard me." 
 
 " Then Edward has told Elizabeth that you so 
 spoke."
 
 204 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 "Ah!" said Richard, turning away with a smile; 
 " I see that the king's conscience hath a discreet 
 keeper. Pardon me. Edward, now that he hath suf- 
 ficiently surveyed his shoon, must marvel at this pro- 
 longed colloquy. And see, the door opens." 
 
 With this, the duke slowly moved to the table, and 
 resumed his seat. 
 
 Marmaduke, full of fear for his ancient host, had in 
 vain sought an opportunity to address a few words of 
 exhortation to him to forbear all necromancy, and to 
 abstain from all perilous distinctions between the power 
 of Edward IV. and that of his damnable Nature and 
 Science; but Catesby watched him with so feline a 
 vigilance, that he was unable to slip in more than 
 " Ah, Master Warner, for our blessed Lord's sake, 
 recollect that rack and cord are more than mere words 
 here!" To the which pleasant remark, Adam, then 
 busy in filling his miniature boiler, only replied by a 
 wistful stare, not in the least recognising the Nevile 
 in his fine attire, and the new-fashioned mode of dress- 
 ing his long hair. 
 
 But Catesby watched in vain for the abstraction of 
 any treasonable contents in the engine, which the 
 Duke of Gloucester had so shrewdly suspected. The 
 truth must be told. Adam had entirely forgotten that 
 in the intricacies of his mechanical lurked the papers 
 that might overthrow a throne! Magnificent Incar- 
 nation was he (in that oblivion) of Science itself, which 
 cares not a jot for men and nations, in their ephemeral 
 existences; which only remembers THINGS things 
 that endure for ages ; and in its stupendous calculations 
 loses sight of the unit of a generation! No he had 
 thoroughly forgotten Henry, Edward, his own limbs 
 and life not only York and Lancaster, but Adam
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 205 
 
 Warner and the rack. Grand in his forgetfulness, he 
 stood before the tiger and the tiger-cat Edward and 
 Richard A Pure Thought a Man's Soul; Science 
 fearless in the presence of Cruelty, Tyranny, Craft, and 
 Power. 
 
 In truth, now that Adam was thoroughly in his own 
 sphere was in the domain of which fie was king, and 
 those beings in velvet and ermine were but as ignorant 
 savages admitted to the frontier of his realm, his form 
 seemed to dilate into a majesty the beholders had not 
 before recognised. And even the lazy Edward mut- 
 tered, involuntarily, " By my halidame, the man has 
 a noble presence! " 
 
 " I am prepared now, sire," said Adam loftily, " to 
 show to my king and to his court, that, unnoticed and 
 obscure, in study and retreat, often live those men 
 whom kings may be proud to call their subjects. Will 
 it please you, my lords, this way! " and he motioned so 
 commandingly to the room in which he had left the 
 Eureka, that his audience rose by a common impulse, 
 and in another minute stood grouped round the model 
 in the adjoining chamber. This really wonderful in- 
 vention so wonderful, indeed, that it will surpass the 
 faith of those who do not pause to consider what vast 
 forestallments of modern science have been made and 
 lost in the darkness of ages not fitted to receive them, 
 was, doubtless, in many important details, not yet 
 adapted for the practical uses to which Adam designed 
 its application. But as a mere model, as a marvellous 
 essay, for the suggestion of gigantic results, it was, 
 perhaps, to the full as effective as the ingenuity of a 
 mechanic of our own day could construct. It is true 
 that it was crowded with unnecessary cylinders, slides, 
 cocks, and wheels hideous and clumsy to the eye
 
 206 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 but through this intricacy the great simple design ac- 
 complished its main object. It contrived to show 
 what force and skill man can obtain from the alliance 
 of nature; the more clearly, inasmuch as the mechan- 
 ism affixed to it, still more ingenious than itself, was 
 well calculated to illustrate practically one of the many 
 uses to which the principle was destined to be applied. 
 
 Adam had not yet fathomed the secret by which to 
 supply the miniature cylinder with sufficient steam for 
 any prolonged effect, the great truth of latent heat was 
 unknown to him; but he had contrived to regulate the 
 supply of water so as to make the engine discharge its 
 duties sufficiently for the satisfaction of curiosity, and 
 the explanation of its objects. And now this strange 
 thing of iron was in full Hfe. From its serpent chim- 
 ney issued the thick rapid smoke, and the groan of 
 its travail was heard within. 
 
 " And what propose you to yourself and to the king- 
 dom, in all this, Master Adam? " asked Edward, curi- 
 ously bending his tall person over the tortured iron. 
 
 " I propose to make Nature the labourer of man," 
 answered Warner. " When I was a child of some 
 eight years old, I observed that water swelleth into 
 vapour when fire is applied to it. Twelve years after- 
 wards, at the age of twenty, I observed that while 
 undergoing this change, it exerts a mighty mechanical 
 force. At twenty-five, constantly musing, I said, 
 ' Why should not that force become subject to man's 
 art? ' I then began the first rude model, of which this 
 is the descendant. I noticed that the vapour so pro- 
 duced is elastic that is, that as it expands, it presses 
 against what opposes it ; it has a force applicable every- 
 where force is needed by man's labour. Behold a 
 second agency of gigantic resources. And then, still
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 207 
 
 studying this, I perceived that the vapour thus pro- 
 duced can be reconverted into water, shrinking neces- 
 sarily, while so retransformed, from the space it filled 
 as vapour, and leaving that space a vacuum. But 
 Nature abhors a vacuum produce a vacuum, and the 
 bodies that surround rush into it. Thus, the vapour 
 again, while changing back into water, becomes also 
 a force our agent. And all the while these truths 
 were shaping themselves to my mind, I was devising 
 and improving also the material form by which I 
 might render them useful to man; so at last, out of 
 these truths, arose this invention!" 
 
 " Pardie," said Edward, with the haste natural to 
 royalty, " what in common there can be between thy 
 jargon of smoke and water and this huge ugliness of 
 iron passeth all understanding. But spare us thy 
 speeches, and on to thy puppet-show." 
 
 Adam stared a moment at the king in the surprise 
 that one full of his subject feels when he sees it impos- 
 sible to make another understand it, sighed, shook his 
 head, and prepared to begin. 
 
 " Observe," he said, " that there is no juggling, no 
 deceit. I will place in this deposit this small lump of 
 brass would the size of this toy would admit of larger 
 experiment! I will then pray ye to note, as I open 
 door after door, how the metal passes through various 
 changes, all operated by this one agency of vapour. 
 Heed and attend. And if the crowning work please 
 thee, think, great king, what such an agency upon the 
 large scale would be to thee; think how it would mul- 
 tiply all arts, and lessen all labour; think that thou hast, 
 in this, achieved for a whole people the true philoso- 
 pher's stone. Now, note!" 
 
 He placed the rough ore in its receptacle, and sud-
 
 208 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 denly it seemed seized by a vice within, and vanished. 
 He proceeded then, while dexterously attending to the 
 complex movements, to open door after door, to show 
 the astonished spectators the rapid transitions the 
 metal underwent, and suddenly, in the midst of his 
 pride, he stopped short, for, like a lightning-flash, came 
 across his mind the remembrance of the fatal papers. 
 Within the next door he was to open, they lay con- 
 cealed. His change of countenance did not escape 
 Richard, and he noted the door which Adam forbore 
 to open, as the student hurriedly, and with some pres- 
 ence of mind, passed to the next, in which the metal was 
 shortly to appear. 
 
 " Open this door," said the prince, pointing to the 
 handle. 
 
 "No! forbear! There is danger! forbear!" ex- 
 claimed the mechanician. 
 
 " Danger to thine own neck, varlet and impostor! " 
 exclaimed the duke; and he was about himself to 
 open the door, when suddenly a loud roar a terrific 
 explosion was heard. Alas! Adam Warner had not 
 yet discovered for his engine what we now call the 
 safety valve. The steam contained in the miniature 
 boiler had acquired an undue pressure; Adam's atten- 
 tion had been too much engrossed to notice the signs 
 of the growing increase, and the rest may be easily 
 conceived. Nothing could equal the stupor and hor- 
 ror of the spectators at this explosion, save only the 
 boy-duke, who remained immovable, and still frown- 
 ing. All rushed to the door, huddling one on the 
 other, scarcely knowing what next was to befall them ; 
 but certain that the wizard was bent upon their de- 
 struction. Edward was the first to recover himself; 
 and seeing that no lives were lost, his first impulse was 
 that of ungovernable rage.
 
 209 
 
 "Foul traitor! " he exclaimed, "was it for this that 
 thou hast pretended to beguile us with thy damnable 
 sorceries! Seize him! Away to the Tower-hill! .and 
 let the priest patter an ave, while the doomsman knots 
 the rope." 
 
 Not a hand stirred; even Catesby would as lief have 
 touched the king's lion before meals, as that poor 
 mechanician, standing aghast, and unheeding all, be- 
 side his mutilated engine. 
 
 " Master Nevile," said the king, sternly, " dost thou 
 hear us?" 
 
 " Verily," muttered the Nevile, approaching very 
 slowly, " I knew what would happen; but to lay hands 
 on my host, an' he were fifty times a wizard No! 
 My liege," he said in a firm tone, but falling on his 
 knee, and his gallant countenance pale with generous 
 terror " My liege, forgive me. This man succoured 
 me when struck down and wounded by a Lancastrian 
 ruffian this man gave me shelter, food, and healing. 
 Command me not, O gracious my lord, to aid in tak- 
 ing the life of one to whom I owe my own." 
 
 "His life!" exclaimed the Duchess of Bedford 
 "the life of this most illustrious person! Sire, you 
 do not dream it! " 
 
 "Heh! by the saints, what now?" cried the king, 
 whose choler, though fierce and ruthless, was as short- 
 lived as the passions of the indolent usually are, and 
 whom the earnest interposition of his mother-in-law 
 much surprised and diverted. " If, fair belle mere, 
 thou thinkest it so illustrious a deed to frighten us out 
 of our mortal senses, and narrowly to 'scape sending 
 us across the river like a bevy of balls from a bom- 
 bard, there is no disputing of tastes. Rise up, Master 
 Nevile, we esteem thee not less for thy boldness; ever 
 VOL. I. 14
 
 210 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 be the host and the benefactor revered by English gen- 
 tleman and Christian youth. Master Warner may go 
 free." 
 
 Here Warner uttered so deep and hollow a groan, 
 that it startled all present. 
 
 " Twenty-five years of labour, and not to have seen 
 this! " he ejaculated. " Twenty and five years, and all 
 wasted! How repair this disaster. O fatal day!" 
 
 " What says he ? what means he ? " said Jacquetta. 
 
 "Come home! home!" said Marmaduke, ap- 
 proaching the philosopher, in great alarm lest he 
 should once more jeopardise his life. But Adam, 
 shaking him off, began eagerly, and with tremulous 
 hands, to examine the machine, and not perceiving 
 any mode by which to guard in future against a danger 
 that he saw at once would, if not removed, render his 
 invention useless, tottered to a chair, and covered his 
 face with his hands. 
 
 " He seemeth mightily grieved that our bones are 
 still whole!" muttered Edward. "And why, belle 
 mere mine, wouldst thou protect this pleasant trege- 
 tourf " 
 
 "What!" said the duchess "see you not that a 
 man capable of such devices must be of doughty ser- 
 vice against our foes?" 
 
 "Not I how?" 
 
 " Why, if merely to signify his displeasure at our 
 young Richard's over-curious meddling, he can cause 
 this strange engine to shake the walls nay, to destroy 
 itself, think what he might do were his power and mal- 
 ice at our disposing. I know something of these nig- 
 romancers." 
 
 "And would you knew less! for already the Com- 
 mons murmur at your favour to them. But be it as
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 21 i 
 
 you will. And now ho, there! let our steeds be 
 caparisoned." 
 
 " You forget, sire," said Richard, who had hitherto 
 silently watched the various parties, " the object for 
 which we summoned this worthy man. Please you 
 now, sir, to open that door." 
 
 " No no ! " exclaimed the king, hastily, " I will 
 have no more provoking the foul fiend conspirator 
 or not, I have had enough of Master Warner. Pah! 
 My poor placard is turned lampblack. Sweet mother- 
 in-law, take him under thy protection; and Richard, 
 come with me." 
 
 So saying, the king linked his arm in that of the 
 reluctant Gloucester, and quitted the room. The 
 duchess then ordered the rest also to depart, and was 
 left alone with the crest-fallen philosopher. 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 MY LADY DUCHESS'S OPINION OF THE UTILITY OF MAS- 
 TER WARNER'S INVENTION, AND HER ESTEEM FOR ITS 
 EXPLOSION ! 
 
 Adam, utterly unheeding, or rather deaf to, the dis- 
 cussion that had taken place, and his narrow escape 
 from cord and gibbet, lifted his head peevishly from 
 his bosom, as the duchess rested her hand almost ca- 
 ressingly on his shoulder, and thus addressed him : 
 
 " Most puissant sir, think not that I am one of those, 
 who, in their ignorance and folly, slight the mysteries 
 of which thou art clearly so great a master. When I 
 heard thee speak of subjecting Nature to Man, I at 
 once comprehended thee, and blushed for the dulness 
 of my kindred."
 
 212 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 "Ah! lady, thou hast studied, then, the mathemat- 
 ics. Alack! this is a grievous blow; but it is no in- 
 herent fault in the device. I am clearly of mind that 
 it can be remedied. But oh! what time what 
 thought what sleepless nights what gold will be 
 needed!" 
 
 " Give me thy sleepless nights and thy grand 
 thoughts, and thou shalt not want gold." 
 
 " Lady," cried Adam, starting to his feet, " do I 
 hear aright? Art thou, in truth, the patron I have so 
 long dreamed of? Hast thou the brain and the 
 heart to aid the pursuits of science? " 
 
 " Ay! and the power to protect the students! Sage, 
 I am the Duchess of Bedford, whom men accuse of 
 witchcraft as thee of wizardy. From the wife of a 
 private gentleman, I have become the mother of a 
 queen. I stand amidst a court full of foes; I desire 
 gold to corrupt, and wisdom to guard against, and 
 means to destroy, them. And I seek all these in men 
 like thee!" 
 
 Adam turned on her his bewildered eyes, and made 
 no answer. 
 
 " They tell me," said the duchess, " that Henry of 
 Windsor employed learned men to transmute the baser 
 metals into gold. Wert thou one of them? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Thou knowest that art? " 
 
 " I studied it in my youth, but the ingredients of the 
 crucible were too costly." 
 
 " Thou shalt not lack them with me thou knowest 
 the lore of the stars, and canst foretell the designs of 
 enemies the hour whether to act or to forbear? " 
 
 " Astrology I have studied, but that also was in 
 youth, for there dwelleth in the pure mathematics that 
 have led me to this invention "
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 213 
 
 " Truce with that invention, whatever it be think 
 of it no more, it has served its end in the explosion, 
 which proved thy power of mischief high objects are 
 now before thee. Wilt thou be of my household, one 
 of my alchemists and astrologers? Thou shalt have 
 leisure, honour, and all the moneys thou canst need." 
 
 "Moneys!" said Adam, eagerly, and casting his 
 eyes upon the mangled model " well, I agree what 
 you will alchemist, astrologist, wizard what you 
 will. This shall all be repaired all I begin to see 
 now ah! I begin to see yes, if a pipe by which the 
 too-excessive vapour could ay, ay! right, right," 
 and he rubbed his hands. 
 
 Jacquetta was struck with his enthusiasm " But 
 surely, Master Warner, this has some virtue you have 
 not vouchsafed to explain; confide in me can it 
 change iron to gold?" 
 
 " No but " 
 
 " Can it predict the future? " 
 
 No but " 
 
 " Can it prolong life? " 
 
 " No but " 
 
 "Then in God's name let us waste no more time 
 about it ! " said the duchess, impatiently " your art is 
 mine now. Ho, there! I will send my page to con- 
 duct thee to thy apartments, and thou shalt lodge next 
 to Friar Bungey, a man of wondrous lere, Master 
 Warner, and a worthy confrere in thy researches. 
 Hast thou any one of kith and kin at home, to whom 
 thou wilt announce thy advancement ? " 
 
 "Ah, lady! Heaven forgive me, I have a daughter 
 an only child my Sibyll, I cannot leave her alone, 
 and " 
 
 " Well, nothing should distract thy cares from thine
 
 214 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 art she shall be sent for. I will rank her amongst 
 my maidens. Fare-thee-well, Master Warner! At 
 night I will send for thee, and appoint the tasks I 
 would have thee accomplish." 
 
 So saying, the duchess quitted the room, and left 
 Adam alone, bending over his model in deep reverie. 
 
 From this absorption it was the poor man's fate to 
 be again aroused. 
 
 The peculiar character of the boy-prince of Glouces- 
 ter was that of one who, having once seized upon an 
 object, never willingly relinquished it. First he crept 
 and slid, and coiled round it as the snake. But if craft 
 failed, his passion, roused by resistance, sprang at his 
 prey with a lion's leap: and whoever examines the ca- 
 reer of this extraordinary personage, will perceive, that 
 whatever might be his habitual hypocrisy, he seemed 
 to lose sight of it wholly, when once resolved upon 
 force. Then the naked ferocity with which the de- 
 structive propensity swept away the objects in his path 
 becomes fearfully and startlingly apparent, and offers a 
 strange contrast to the wily duplicity with which, in 
 calmer moments, he seems to have sought to coax the 
 victim into his folds. Firmly convinced that Adam's 
 engine had been made the medium of dangerous and 
 treasonable correspondence with the royal prisoner, 
 and, of that suspicious, restless, feverish temperament, 
 which never slept when a fear was wakened, a doubt 
 conceived, he had broke from his brother, whose more 
 open valour and less unquiet intellect were ever will- 
 ing to leave the crown defended but by the gibbet for 
 the detected traitor the sword for the declared foe; 
 and obtaining Edward's permission " to inquire fur- 
 ther into these strange matters," he sent at once for the 
 porter who had conveyed the model to the Tower; but
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 215 
 
 that suspicious accomplice was gone. The sound of 
 the explosion of the engine had no less startled the 
 guard below than the spectators above. Releasing 
 their hold of their prisoner, they had some taken fair- 
 ly to their heels, others rushed into the palace to learn 
 what mischief had ensued; and Hugh, with the quick 
 discretion of his north country, had not lost so favour- 
 able an opportunity for escape. There stood the doz- 
 ing mule at the door below, but the guide was 
 vanished. More confirmed in his suspicions by this dis- 
 appearance of Adam's companion, Richard, giving 
 some preparatory orders to Catesby, turned at once to 
 the room which still held the philosopher and his 
 device. He closed the door on entering, and his brow 
 was dark and sinister as he approached the musing in- 
 mate. But here we must return to Sibyll. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 THE OLD WOMAN TALKS OF SORROWS THE YOUNG 
 
 WOMAN DREAMS OF LOVE THE COURTIER FLIES 
 
 FROM PRESENT POWER TO REMEMBRANCES OF PAST 
 
 HOPES AND THE WORLD-BETTERER OPENS UTOPIA, 
 
 WITH A VIEW OF THE GIBBET FOR THE SILLY SAGE 
 
 HE HAS SEDUCED INTO HIS SCHEMES SO, EVER AND 
 
 EVERMORE, RUNS THE WORLD AWAY! 
 
 The old lady looked up from her embroidery-frame, 
 as Sibyll sat musing on a stool before her ; she scanned 
 the maiden with a wistful and somewhat melancholy 
 eye. 
 
 " Fair girl," she said, breaking a silence that had 
 lasted for some moments, " it seems to me that I have
 
 216 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 seen thy face before. Wert thou never in Queen 
 Margaret's court?" 
 
 " In childhood, yes, lady." 
 
 " Do you not remember me, the dame of Longue- 
 ville ? " 
 
 Sibyll started in surprise, and gazed long before she 
 recognised the features of her hostess ; for the dame 
 of Longueville had been still, when Sibyll was a child 
 at the court, renowned for matronly beauty, and the 
 change was greater than the lapse of years could ac- 
 count for. The lady smiled sadly : " Yes, you marvel 
 to see me thus bent and faded. Maiden, I lost my 
 husband at the battle of St. Alban's, and my three 
 sons in the field of Teuton. My lands and my wealth 
 have been confiscated to enrich new men ; and to one 
 of them one of the enemies of the only king whom 
 Alice de Longueville will acknowledge, I owe the food 
 for my board, and the roof for my head. Do you 
 marvel now that I am so changed ? " 
 Sibyll rose and kissed the lady's hand, and the tear 
 that sparkled on its surface was her only answer. 
 
 " I learn," said the dame of Longueville, " that 
 your father has an order from the Lord Hastings to 
 see King Henry. I trust that he will rest here as he 
 returns, to tell me how the monarch-saint bears his 
 afflictions. But I know : his example should console 
 us all." She paused a moment, and resumed, " Sees 
 your father much of the Lord Hastings ? " 
 
 " He never saw him that I weet of," answered 
 Sibyll, blushing ; " the order was given, but as of usual 
 form to a learned scholar." 
 
 " But given to whom ? " persisted the lady. 
 
 " To to me," replied Sibyll, falteringly. 
 
 The dame of Longueville smiled^
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 217 
 
 " Ah ! Hastings could scarcely say no to a prayer 
 from such rosy lips. But let me not imply aught to 
 disparage his humane and gracious heart. To Lord 
 Hastings, next to God and His saints, I owe all that is 
 left to me on earth. Strange, that he is not yet here. 
 This is the usual day and hour on which he conies, 
 from pomp and pleasurement, to visit the lonely 
 widow." And, pleased to find an attentive listener 
 to her grateful loquacity, the dame then proceeded, 
 with warm eulogies upon her protector, to inform 
 Sibyll that her husband had, in the first outbreak of 
 the Civil War, chanced to capture Hastings, and, 
 moved by his valour and youth, and some old con- 
 nections with his father, Sir Leonard had favoured 
 his escape from the certain death that awaited him 
 from the wrath of the relentess Margaret. After the 
 field of Touton, Hastings had accepted one of the 
 manors confiscated from the attainted House of 
 Longueville, solely that he might restore it to the 
 widow of the fallen lord ; and, with a chivalrous con- 
 sideration, not contented with beneficence, he omit- 
 ted no occasion to show to the noblewoman whatever 
 homage and respect might soothe the pride, which, 
 in the poverty of those who have been great, becomes 
 disease. The loyalty of the Lady Longueville was 
 carried to a sentiment most rare in that day, and 
 rather resembling the devotion inspired by the later 
 Stuarts. She made her home within the precincts of 
 the Tower, that, morning and eve, when Henry 
 opened his lattice to greet the rising and the setting 
 sun, she might catch a dim and distant glance of the 
 captive king, or animate, by that sad sight, the hopes 
 and courage of the Lancastrian emissaries, to whom, 
 fearless of danger, she scrupled not to give counsel, 
 and, at need, asylum.
 
 2i8 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 While Sibyll, with enchanted sense, was listening 
 to the praise of Hastings, a low knock at the door 
 was succeeded by the entrance of that nobleman him- 
 self. Not to Elizabeth, in the alcoves of Shene, or on 
 the dais of the palace hall, did the graceful courtier 
 bend with more respectful reverence than to the pow- 
 erless widow, whose very bread was his alms, for the 
 true high-breeding of chivalry exists not without deli- 
 cacy of feeling, formed originally by warmth of heart ; 
 and though the warmth may lose its glow, the delicacy 
 endures, as the steel, that acquires through heat its 
 polish, retains its lustre, even when the shine but be- 
 trays the hardness. 
 
 " And how fares my noble lady of Longueville ? 
 But need I ask? for her cheek still wears the rose of 
 Lancaster. A companion ? Ha ! Mistress Warner, I 
 learn now how much pleasure exists in surprise! " 
 
 " My young visitor," said the dame, " is but an old 
 friend ; she was one of the child-maidens reared at 
 the court of Queen Margaret." 
 
 " In sooth ! " exclaimed Hastings ; and then, in an 
 altered tone, he added, " but I should have guessed 
 so much grace had not come all from nature. And 
 your father has gone to see the Lord Henry, and you 
 rest, here, his return? Ah noble lady! may you har- 
 bour always such innocent Lancastrians." 
 
 The fascinations of this eminent person's voice and 
 manner were such, that it soon restored Sibyll to the 
 ease she had lost at his sudden entrance. He con- 
 versed gaily with the old dame upon such matters of 
 court anecdote as in all the changes of state were still 
 welcome to one so long accustomed to court air; but 
 from time to time he addressed himself to Sibyll, and 
 provoked replies which startled herself for she was
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 219 
 
 not yet well aware of her own gifts by their spirit 
 and intelligence. 
 
 " You do not tell us," said the Lady Longueville, 
 sarcastically, " of the happy spousailles of Elizabeth's 
 brother with the Duchess of Norfolk a bachelor of 
 twenty, a bride of some eighty-two.* Verily, these 
 alliances are new things in the history of English roy- 
 alty. But when Edward, who, even if not a rightful 
 king, is at least a born Plantagenet, condescended to 
 marry Mistress Elizabeth, a born Woodville, scarce 
 of good gentleman's blood, nought else seems strange 
 enough to provoke marvel." 
 
 " As to the last matter," returned Hastings, grave- 
 ly, " though her grace the queen be no warm friend 
 to me, I must needs become her champion and the 
 king's. The lady who refused the dishonouring suit 
 of the fairest prince and the boldest knight in the 
 Christian world, thereby made herself worthy of the 
 suit that honoured her; it was not Elizabeth Wood- 
 ville alone that won the purple. On the day she 
 mounted a throne, the chastity of woman herself was 
 crowned." 
 
 " What ! " said the Lady Longueville angrily, 
 " mean you to say that there is no disgrace in the mal- 
 alliance of kite and falcon of Plantagenet and Wood- 
 ville of high-born and mud-descended ? " 
 
 " You forget, lady, that the widow of Henry the 
 Fifth, Catharine of Valois, a king's daughter, married 
 the Welsh soldier, Owen Tudor that all England 
 teems with brave men born from similar spousailles, 
 where love has levelled all distinctions, and made a 
 
 * The old chronicler justly calls this a " diabolical mar- 
 riage." It greatly roused the wrath of the nobles, and indeed 
 of all honourable men, as a. proof of the shameless avarice of 
 the queen's family.
 
 220 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 purer hearth, and raised a bolder offspring, than the 
 lukewarm likings of hearts that beat but for lands and 
 gold. Wherefore, lady, appeal not to me, a squire 
 of dames, a believer in the old Parliament of LOVE ; 
 whoever is fair and chaste, gentle and loving, is, in 
 the eyes of William De Hastings, the mate and equal 
 of a king ! " 
 
 Sibyll turned involuntarily as the courtier spoke 
 thus, with animation in his voice, and fire in his eyes ; 
 she turned, and her breath came quick; she turned, 
 and her look met his, and those words and that look 
 sank deep into her heart; they called forth brilliant 
 and ambitious dreams ; they rooted the growing love, 
 but they aided to make it holy ; they gave to the de- 
 licious fancy what before it had not paused, on its 
 wing, to sigh for ; they gave it that without which all 
 fancy, sooner or later, dies ; they gave it that which, 
 once received in a noble heart, is the excuse for untir- 
 ing faith ; they gave it HOPE ! 
 
 " And thou wouldst say," replied the lady of 
 Longueville, with a meaning smile, still more em- 
 phatically " thou wouldst say that a youth, brave and 
 well nurtured, ambitious and loving, ought, in the 
 eyes of rank and pride, to be the mate and equal 
 of " 
 
 " Ah, noble dame," interrupted Hastings, quickly ; 
 " I must not prolong encounter with so sharp a wit. 
 Let me leave that answer to this fair maiden, for, by 
 rights, it is a challenge to her sex, not to mine." 
 
 " How say you, then, Mistress Warner ! " said the 
 dame. " Suppose a young heiress, of the loftiest 
 birth, of the broadest lands, of the comeliest form 
 suppose her wooed by a gentleman, poor and station- 
 less, but with a mighty soul, born to achieve greatness, 
 would she lower herself by hearkening to his suit ? "
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 221 
 
 " A maiden, methinks," answered Sibyll, with re- 
 luctant but charming hesitation, " cannot love truly, 
 if she love unworthily; and if she love worthily, it is 
 not rank nor wealth she loves." 
 
 " But her parents, sweet mistress, may deem differ- 
 ently; and should not her love refuse submission to 
 their tyranny ? " asked Hastings. 
 
 " Nay, good my lord, nay," returned Sibyll, shak- 
 ing her head with thoughtful demureness. " Surely 
 the wooer, if he love worthily, will not press her to 
 the curse of a child's disobedience and a parent's 
 wrath ! " 
 
 " Shrewdly answered," said the dame of Longue- 
 ville. 
 
 ' Then she would renounce the poor gentleman if 
 the parent ordain her to marry a rich lord. Ah, you 
 hesitate, for a woman's ambition is pleased with the 
 excuse of a child's obedience." 
 
 Hastings said this so bitterly, that Sibyll could not 
 but perceive that some personal feeling gave signifi- 
 cance to his words. Yet how could they be applied 
 to him, to one now in rank and repute equal to the 
 highest below the throne? 
 
 " If the demoiselle should so choose," said the 
 dame of Longueville, " it seemeth to me that the re- 
 jected suitor might find it facile to disdain and to 
 forget." 
 
 Hastings made no reply ; but that remarkable and 
 deep shade of melancholy which sometimes in his 
 gayest hours startled those who beheld it, and which 
 had, perhaps, induced many of the prophecies that 
 circulated, as to the untimely and violent death that 
 should close his bright career, gathered like a cloud 
 over his brow. At this moment the door opened
 
 222 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 gently, and Robert Hilyard stood at the aperture. He 
 was clad in the dress of a friar, but the raised cowl 
 showed his features to the lady of Longueville, to 
 whom alone he was visible; and those bold features 
 were literally haggard with agitation and alarm. He 
 lifted his finger to his lips, and motioning the lady to 
 follow him, closed the door. 
 
 The dame of Longueville rose, and praying her vis- 
 itors to excuse her absence for a few moments, she 
 left Hastings and Sibyll to themselves. 
 
 " Lady," said Hilyard, in a hollow whisper as soon 
 as the dame appeared in the low hall, communicating 
 on one hand with the room just left, on the other with 
 the street, " I fear all will be detected. Hush ! 
 Adam and the iron coffer that contains the precious 
 papers have been conducted to Edward's presence. 
 A terrible explosion, possibly connected with the con- 
 trivance, caused such confusion among the guards, 
 that Hugh escaped to scare me with his news. Sta- 
 tioned near the gate in this disguise, I ventured to 
 enter the court-yard, and saw saw the TOR- 
 MENTOR ! the torturer the hideous, masked minis- 
 ter of agony, led towards the chambers in which our 
 hapless messenger is examined by the ruthless ty- 
 rants. Gloucester, the lynx-eyed mannikin, is there ! " 
 
 " O Margaret, my queen ! " exclaimed the lady of 
 Longueville, " the papers will reveal her where- 
 about." 
 
 " No she is safe ! " returned Hilyard ; " but thy 
 poor scholar, I tremble for him, and for the heads of 
 all whom the papers name." 
 
 " What can be done ! Ha ! Lord Hastings is here 
 he is ever humane and pitiful. Dare we confide in 
 him?"
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 223 
 
 A bright gleam shot over Hilyard's face. " Yes 
 yes ; let me confer with him alone. I wait him here 
 quick ! " 
 
 The lady hastened back. Hastings was convers- 
 ing in a low voice with Sibyll. The dame of Longue- 
 ville whispered in the courtier's ear, drew him into 
 the hall, and left him alone with the false friar, who 
 had drawn the cowl over his face. 
 
 " Lord Hastings," said Hilyard, speaking rapidly, 
 " you are in danger, if not of loss of life, of loss of 
 favour. You gave a passport to one Warner to see 
 the ex-king Henry. Warner's simplicity (for he is 
 innocent) hath been duped he is made the bearer 
 of secret intelligence from the unhappy gentlemen 
 who still cling to the Lancaster cause. He is sus- 
 pected, he is examined he may be questioned by 
 the torturer. If the treason be discovered, it was thy 
 hand that signed the passport the queen, thou know- 
 est, hates thee the Woodvilles thirst for thy down- 
 fall. What handle may this give them ! Fly, my 
 lord fly to the Tower thou mayst yet be in time 
 thy wit can screen all that may otherwise be bare. 
 Save this poor scholar conceal this correspondence. 
 Hark ye, lord ! frown not so haughtily that cor- 
 respondence names thee as one who has taken the 
 gold of Count Charolois, and whom, therefore, King 
 Louis may outbuy. Look to thyself ! " 
 
 A slight blush passed over the pale brow of the 
 great statesman, but he answered with a steady voice, 
 " Friar or layman, I care not which, the gold of the 
 heir of Burgundy was a gift, not a bribe. But I need 
 no threats to save, if not too late, from rack and gib- 
 bet, the life of a guiltless man. I am gone. Hold ! 
 bid the maiden, the scholar's daughter, follow me to 
 the Tower."
 
 224 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 HOW THE DESTRUCTIVE ORGAN OF PRINCE RICHARD 
 PROMISES GOODLY DEVELOPMENT 
 
 The Duke of Gloucester approached Adam as he 
 stood gazing on his model. " Old man," said the 
 prince, touching him with the point of his sheathed 
 dagger, " look up and answer. What converse hast 
 thou held with Henry of Windsor, and who commis- 
 sioned thee to visit him in his confinement? Speak, 
 and the truth! for by holy Paul, I am one who can 
 detect a lie, and without that door stands the Tor- 
 mentor ! " 
 
 Upon a pleasing and joyous dream broke these 
 harsh words ; for Adam then was full of the contriv- 
 ance by which to repair the defect of the engine ; and 
 with this suggestion was blent confusedly the thought, 
 that he was now protected by royalty, that he should 
 have means and leisure to accomplish his great de- 
 sign, that he should have friends whose power could 
 obtain its adoption by the king. He raised his eyes, 
 and that young dark face frowned upon him the 
 child menacing the sage brute force in a pigmy 
 shape, having authority of life and death over the 
 giant strength of genius. But these words, which re- 
 called Warner from his existence as philosopher, 
 woke that of the gentle but brave and honourable man 
 which he was, when reduced to earth. 
 
 " Sir," he said, gravely, " if I have consented to hold 
 converse with the unhappy, it was not as the tell-tale 
 and the espier. I had formal warrant for my visit, 
 and I was solicited to render it by an early friend and
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 225 
 
 comrade, who sought to be my benefactor in aiding 
 with gold my poor studies for the king's people." 
 
 " Tut ! " said Richard, impatiently, and playing with 
 his dagger hilt ; " thy words, stealthy and evasive, 
 prove thy guilt ! Sure am I that this iron traitor, with 
 its intricate hollows and recesses, holds what, unless 
 confessed, will give thee to the hangman! Confess 
 all, and thou art spared." 
 
 " If," said Adam, mildly, " your highness for 
 though I know not your quality, I opine that no one 
 less than royal could so menace ; if your highness im- 
 agines that I have been intrusted by a fallen man, 
 wrong me not by supposing that I could fear death 
 more than dishonour ; for certes ! " (continued Adam, 
 with innocent pedantry) " to put the case scholastical- 
 ly, and in the logic familiar, doubtless, to your high- 
 ness, either I have something to confess, or I have 
 not if I have " 
 
 " Hound ! " interrupted the prince, stamping his 
 foot, " thinkest thou to banter me see ! " As his 
 foot shook the floor, the door opened, and a man with 
 his arms bare, covered from head to foot in a black 
 gown of serge, with his features concealed by a hid- 
 eous mask, stood ominously at the aperture. 
 
 The prince motioned to the torturer (or tormentor, 
 as he was technically styled) to approach, which he 
 did noiselessly, till he stood, tall, grim, and lowering, 
 beside Adam, like some silent and devouring monster 
 by its prey. 
 
 " Dost thou repent thy contumacy ? A moment, 
 and I render my questioning to another ! " 
 
 " Sir," said Adam, drawing himself up, and with so 
 udden a change of mien, that his loftiness almost 
 awed even the dauntless Richard " Sir, my fathers 
 YOL. I. 15
 
 226 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 feared not death when they did battle for the throne 
 of England ; and why ? because in their loyal valour 
 they placed not the interests of a mortal man, but the 
 cause of imperishable honour! And though their 
 son be a poor scholar, and wears not the spurs of gold 
 though his frame be weak and his hairs grey, he 
 loveth honour also well eno' to look without dread 
 on death ! " 
 
 Fierce and ruthless, when irritated and opposed, as 
 the prince was, he was still in his first youth am- 
 bition had here no motive to harden him into stone. 
 He was naturally so brave himself that bravery could 
 not fail to win from him something of respect and 
 sympathy, and he was taken wholly by surprise in 
 hearing the language of a knight and hero from one 
 whom he had regarded but as the artful impostor or 
 the despicable intriguer. 
 
 He changed countenance as Warner spoke, and 
 remained a moment silent. Then as a thought oc- 
 curred to him, at which his features relaxed into a 
 half-smile he beckoned to the tormentor said a 
 word in his ear and the horrible intruder nodded and 
 withdrew. 
 
 " Master Warner," then said the prince, in his cus- 
 tomary sweet and gliding tones " it were a pity that 
 so gallant a gentleman should be exposed to peril for 
 adhesion to a cause that can never prosper, and that 
 would be fatal, could it prosper, to our common coun- 
 try. For look you, this Margaret, who is now, we 
 believe, in London " (here he examined Adam's 
 countenance, which evinced surprise), " this Marga- 
 ret, who is seeking to rekindle the brand and brennen 
 of civil war, has already sold for base gold, to the 
 enemy of the realm, to Louis XL, that very Calais
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 227 
 
 which your fathers, doubtless, lavished their blood to 
 annex to our possessions. Shame on the lewd har- 
 lot ! What woman so bloody and so dissolute ? 
 What man so feeble and craven as her lord ? " 
 
 " Alas ! sir," said Adam " I am unfitted for these 
 high considerations of state. I live but for my art, 
 and in it. And now, behold how my kingdom is 
 shaken and rent ! " he pointed with so touching a 
 smile, and so simple a sadness, to the broken engine, 
 that Richard was moved. 
 
 " Thou lovest this, thy toy ? I can comprehend that 
 love for some dumb thing that we have toiled for. 
 Ay ! " continued the prince, thoughtfully " ay ! I 
 have noted myself in life, that there are objects, sense- 
 less as that mould of iron, which, if we labour at 
 them, wind round our hearts as if they were flesh and 
 blood. So some men love learning, others glory, 
 others power. Well, man, thou lovest that mechan- 
 ical ? How many years hast thou been about it ? " 
 
 " From the first to the last,, twenty-five years, and 
 it is still incomplete." 
 
 " Um ! " said the prince, smiling " Master War- 
 ner, thou hast read of the judgment of Solomon how 
 the wise king discovered the truth by ordering the 
 child's death." 
 
 " It was indeed," said Adam, unsuspectingly " a 
 most shrewd suggestion of native wit and clerkly wis- 
 dom." 
 
 " Glad am I thou approvest it, Master Warner," 
 said Richard. And as he spoke the tormentor re- 
 appeared with a smith, armed with the implements of 
 his trade. 
 
 " Good smith, break into pieces this stubborn iron ; 
 bare all its receptacles ; leave not one fragment stand-
 
 228 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 ing on the other! Delenda est tua Carthago, Master 
 Warner. There is Latin in answer to thy logic." 
 
 It is impossible to convey any notion of the terror, 
 the rage, the despair, which seized upon the unhappy 
 sage when these words smote his ear, and he saw the 
 smith's brawny arms swing on high the ponderous 
 hammer. He flung himself between the murderous 
 stroke and his beloved model. He embraced the 
 grim iron tightly. " Kill me! " he exclaimed, sub- 
 limely, " kill me! not my THOUGHT! " 
 
 " Solomon was verily and indeed a wise king," said 
 the duke, with a low inward laugh. " And now, man, 
 I have thee ! To save thy infant thine art's hideous 
 infant confess the whole ! " 
 
 It was then that a fierce struggle evidently took 
 place in Adam's bosom. It was, perhaps O reader! 
 thou whom pleasure, love, ambition, hatred, avarice, 
 in thine and our ordinary existence, tempt it was, 
 perhaps, to him the one arch-temptation of a life. In 
 the changing countenance, the heaving breast, the 
 trembling lip, the eyes that closed and opened to 
 close again, as if to shut out the unworthy weakness 
 yea, in the whole physical man was seen the crisis 
 of the moral struggle. And what, in truth, to him, 
 an Edward or a Henry, a Lancaster or a York? 
 Nothing. But still that instinct, that principle, that 
 conscience, ever strongest in those whose eyes are 
 accustomed to the search of truth, prevailed. So he 
 rose suddenly and quietly, drew himself apart, left his 
 work to the Destroyer, and said 
 
 " Prince, thou art a boy ! Let a boy's voice annihi- 
 late that which should have served all time. Strike ! " 
 
 Richard motioned the hammer descended the 
 engine and its appurtenances reeled, and crashed
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 229 
 
 the doors flew open -the wheels rattled the sparks 
 flew. And Adam Warner fell to the ground, as if the 
 blow had broken his own heart. Little, heeding the 
 insensible victim of his hard and cunning policy, Rich- 
 ard advanced to the inspection of the interior recesses 
 of the machinery. But that which promised Adam's 
 destruction, saved him. The heavy stroke had bat- 
 tered in the receptacle of the documents had buried 
 them in the layers of iron. The faithful Eureka, even 
 amidst its injuries and wrecks, preserved the secret 
 of its master. 
 
 The prince, with impatient hands, explored all the 
 apertures yet revealed, and after wasting many min- 
 utes in a fruitless search, was about to bid the smith 
 complete the work of destruction, when the door sud- 
 denly opened and Lord Hastings entered. His quick 
 eye took in the whole scene he arrested the lifted 
 arm of the smith, and passing deliberately to Glouces- 
 ter, said with a profound reverence, but a half- 
 reproachful smile, " My lord ! my lord ! your highness 
 is indeed severe upon my poor scholar." 
 
 " Canst thou answer for thy scholar's loyalty ? " 
 said the Duke, gloomily. 
 
 Hastings drew the prince aside, and said, in a low 
 tone, " His loyalty ! poor man, I know not ; but his 
 guilelessness, surely, yes. Look you, sweet prince, I 
 know the interest thou hast in keeping well with the 
 Earl of Warwick, whom I, in sooth, have slight cause 
 to love. Thou hast trusted me with thy young hopes 
 of the Lady Anne ; this new Nevile placed about the 
 king, and whose fortunes Warwick hath made his 
 care, hath, I have reason to think, some love passages 
 with the scholar's daughter the daughter came to 
 me for the passport. Shall this Marmaduke Nevile
 
 230 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 have it to say to his fair kinswoman, with the un- 
 forgiving malice of a lover's memory, that the princely 
 Gloucester stooped to be the torturer of yon poor 
 old man? If there be treason in the scholar, or in 
 yon battered craft-work, leave the search to me." 
 
 The duke raised his dark, penetrating eyes to those 
 of Hastings, which did not quail. For here world- 
 genius encountered world-genius, and art, art. 
 
 " Thine argument hath more subtlety and circum- 
 locution than suit with simple truth," said the prince, 
 smiling. " But it is enough to Richard that Hastings 
 wills protection even to a spy ! " 
 
 Hastings kissed the duke's hand in silence, and go- 
 ing to the door, he disappeared a moment and re- 
 turned with Sibyll. As she entered, pale and trem- 
 bling, Adam rose, and the girl with a wild cry flew to 
 his bosom. 
 
 " It is a winsome face, Hastings," said the duke, 
 drily. " I pity Master Nevile the lover, and envy my 
 Lord Chamberlain the protector." 
 
 Hastings laughed, for he was well pleased that 
 Richard's suspicion took that turn. 
 
 " And now," he said, " I suppose Master Nevile 
 and the Duchess of Bedford's page may enter. Your 
 guard stopped them hitherto. They come for this 
 gentleman from her highness the queen's mother." 
 
 " Enter, Master Nevile, and you, Sir Page. What 
 is your errand? " 
 
 " My lady, the duchess," said the page, " has sent 
 me to conduct Master Warner to the apartments pre- 
 pared for him as her special multiplier and alchemist." 
 
 " What ! " said the prince, who, unlike the irritable 
 Clarence, made it his policy to show all decorous hom- 
 age to the queen's kin ; " hath that illustrious lady
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 231 
 
 taken this gentleman into her service? Why an- 
 nounced you not, Master Warner, what at once had 
 saved you from further questioning? Lord Hastings, 
 I thank you now for your intercession." 
 
 Hastings, in answer, pointed archly at Marmaduke, 
 who was aiding Sibyll to support her father. " Do 
 you suspect me still, prince ? " he whispered. 
 
 The duke shrugged his shoulders, and Adam, 
 breaking from Marmaduke and Sibyll, passed with 
 tottering steps to the shattered labour of his solitary 
 life. He looked at the ruin with mournful despond- 
 ence, with quivering lips. " Have you done with 
 me ? " then he said, bowing his head lowlily, for his 
 pride was gone " may we that is, I and this, my 
 poor device, withdraw from your palace? I see we 
 are not fit for kings ! " 
 
 " Say not so," said the young duke, gently : " we 
 have now convinced ourselves of our error, and I 
 crave thy pardon, Master Warner, for my harsh deal- 
 ings. As for this, thy toy, the king's workmen shall 
 set it right for thee. Smith, call the fellows yonder, 
 
 to help bear this to " He paused, and glanced at 
 
 Hastings. 
 
 " To my apartments," said the Chamberlain. " Your 
 highness may be sure that I will there inspect it. Fear 
 not, Master Warner; no further harm shall chance 
 to thy contrivance." 
 
 " Come, sir, forgive me," said the duke. With gra- 
 cious affability the young prince held out his hand, 
 the fingers of which sparkled with costly gems, to the 
 old man. The old man bowed as if his beard would 
 have swept the earth, but he did not touch the hand. 
 He seemed still in a state between dream and reason, 
 life and death : he moved not, spoke not, till the men
 
 232 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 came to bear the model ; and he then followed it. his 
 arms folded in his gown, till, on entering the court, 
 it was borne in a contrary direction from his own, to 
 the Chamberlain's apartment ; then wistfully pursuing 
 it with his eyes, he uttered such a sigh as might have 
 come from a resigned father losing the last glimpse 
 of a beloved son. 
 
 Richard hesitated a moment, loth to relinquish his 
 research, and doubtful whether to follow the Eureka 
 for renewed investigation ; but partly unwilling to 
 compromise his dignity in the eyes of Hastings, 
 should his suspicions prove unfounded, and partly in- 
 disposed to risk the displeasure of the vindictive 
 Duchess of Bedford by further molestation of one 
 now under her protection, he reluctantly trusted all 
 further inquiry to the well-known loyalty of Hastings. 
 
 " If Margaret be in London," he muttered to him- 
 self as he turned slowly away, " now is the time to 
 seize and chain the lioness ! Ho, Catesby, hither (a 
 valuable man that Catesby a lawyer's nurturing 
 with a bloodhound's nature !) Catesby, while King 
 Edward rides for pleasure, let thou and I track the 
 scent of his foes. If the she-wolf of Anjou hath vent- 
 ured hither, she hides in -some convent or monastery, 
 be sure. See to our palfreys, Catesby! Strange" 
 (added the prince, muttering to himself), " that I am 
 more restless to guard the crown than he who wears 
 it! Nay, a crown is a goodly heirloom in a man's 
 family, and a fair sight to see near and near and 
 near " 
 
 The prince abruptly paused, opened and shut his 
 right hand convulsively, and drew a long sigh.
 
 CHAPTER 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 disguise 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 ineffec- 
 tive police, sheltered many who either lived upon plun- 
 der, 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 population which is the un- 
 holy offspring of civil war disbanded soldiers of 
 either Rose, too inured to violence and strife for peace- 
 ful 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 as- 
 pect, denoted the poverty seldom their characteristic. 
 Here he knocked; the door was opened by a lay- 
 brother; a sign and a smile were interchanged, and the 
 
 233
 
 234 THE LAST OR THE BARONS 
 
 visitor was ushered into a room belonging to the su- 
 perior, but given up for the last few days to a foreign 
 priest, to whom the whole community appeared to con- 
 sider the reverence of a saint was due. And yet this 
 priest, who, seated alone, by a casement which com- 
 manded a partial view of the distant Tower of London, 
 received the conspirator, was clad in the humblest 
 serge. His face was smooth and delicate; and the 
 animation of the aspect, the vehement 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 casting himself at the priest's feet, his eyes, his 
 countenance, changed from their customary hardihood 
 and recklessness, into an expression at once of rever- 
 ence and of pity. 
 
 " Well, man well, friend good friend, tried and 
 leal friend speak! speak!" exclaimed the 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 torture, and was faith- 
 ful to the trust. But the papers the secret of the ris- 
 ing, 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 countenance, 
 so well fitted to express fiery and terrible emotion, 
 wore that aspect in which many a sentenced man had 
 read his doom; an aspect the more fearful, inasmuch 
 as the passion that pervaded it did not distort the feat-
 
 I come but to bid you fly."
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 235 
 
 ures, 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 Hastings, 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 Edward a council met at the Tower), and 
 learned that he had detected the documents in the re- 
 cesses 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 it were a 
 fool's virtue to be more pure than others, and if I know 
 that I should but provoke the wrath of those who profit 
 by Burgundian gold, were I alone to disdain its glitter ; 
 I have still eno' 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 continued, ' I am 
 yet true to my king and his cause; I shall know how 
 to advise Edward to the frustrating all your schemes. 
 The districts where you hoped a rising will be guard- 
 ed, 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 concealed, bid 
 her lose not an hour to fly.' " 
 
 "I will NOT fly!" exclaimed Margaret; "let Ed-
 
 236 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 ward, if he dare, proclaim to my people that their 
 queen is in her city of London. Let him send his hire- 
 lings 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 Ed- 
 ward'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 bear you to the coast; 
 while seeking your restoration, 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 warrior- 
 queen merged in the remembrance of the fond mother. 
 "Ah! faithful friend! he is so gallant and so beauti- 
 ful! 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 let us 
 hasten the hour of action, and raise the Red Rose 
 through the length and breadth of England ! " 
 
 " Ah, lady, if without warrant from your lord if 
 without foreign subsidies if without having yet rip- 
 ened the time if without gold, without arms, and
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 237 
 
 without one great baron on our side, we forestall a ris- 
 ing, 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 triumph 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 kins- 
 man! " 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 ex- 
 actions of his minions already the mighty house of 
 Nevile frowns sullen on the throne it built. Another 
 year, and who knows but the Earl of Warwick the 
 beloved and the fearless 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
 
 238 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 from Warwick and his father. But thou, though wise 
 and loyal, art of the Commons: thou knowest not how 
 they feel through whose veins rolls the blood ol 
 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 misfort- 
 une can curb thy pride, in vain would we rebuild 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 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 pf old, looking back to thy dead kings, 
 and contemptuous 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 min- 
 strel, in the subduing fascination that she could exert 
 in her happier moments. Her affability was as gra- 
 cious as her wrath was savage; and with a dignified 
 and winning frankness, she extended her hand to her 
 ally, as she answered, in a sweet, humble, womanly, 
 and almost penitent voice
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 239 
 
 " 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 eyes shed tears fast and 
 large. Then, with a sigh, she turned to Hilyard, and 
 resumed more calmly " Yes, thou art right adver- 
 sity 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. For- 
 give 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 Margaret in this attire? 
 Lead on!" 
 
 Rejoiced to seize advantage of this altered and sub- 
 missive mood, Robin instantly took the way through 
 a narrow passage, to a small door communicating with 
 the river. There Hugh was waiting in a small boat, 
 moored to the damp and discoloured stairs.
 
 240 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 Robin, by a gesture, checked the man's impulse to 
 throw himself at the feet of the pretended priest, and 
 bade him put forth his best speed. The princess seat- 
 ed 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 gal- 
 lants, 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. 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 IN WHICH ARE LAID OPEN TO THE READER THE CHAR- 
 ACTER OF EDWARD THE FOURTH AND THAT OF HIS 
 COURT, WITH THE MACHINATIONS OF THE WOOD- 
 VILLES AGAINST THE EARL OF WARWICK 
 
 Scarcely 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 individualised and distinct. The type of the 
 provincial cadet of the day, hastening courtwards to 
 seek his fortune, he becomes lost amidst the gigantic
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 241 
 
 characters and fervid passions that alone stand forth 
 in history. And as, in reading biography, we first 
 take interest in the individual who narrates, but if his 
 career shall pass into that broader and more stirring 
 life, in which he mingles with men who have left a 
 more dazzling memory than his own, we find the inter- 
 est change from the narrator to those by whom he is 
 surrounded 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 allures and 
 separates us from our guide; his mission is, as it were, 
 well nigh done. We leave, then, for a while, this bold, 
 frank nature fresh from the health of the rural life 
 gradually to improve, or deprave itself, in the compan- 
 ionship 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 Marmaduke's mind became 
 aware that learning was no longer the peculiar dis- 
 tinction 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 of 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 unsea- 
 sonable defence of the hero-baron, when sneered at or 
 VOL. L 16
 
 242 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 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 his patron, nor his 
 respect for the bulwark of the country. Rather, it may 
 be said, that Warwick gained in his estimation when- 
 ever compared with the gay and silken personages 
 who avenged themselves by words for his superiority 
 in deeds. Not only as a soldier, but as a statesman, 
 the great and peculiar merits of the earl were visible 
 in all those measures which emanated solely from him- 
 self. Though so indifferently educated, his busy, prac- 
 tical career, his affable mixing with all classes, and his 
 hearty, national sympathies, made him so well ac- 
 quainted 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 fam- 
 ily, 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 the animos- 
 ity of the different factions had fomented, 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
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 243 
 
 stealthy overreaching, the boyhood of Richard III. 
 passed to its relentless manhood: such is the inevitable 
 fruit of that era in civilization when a martial aristoc- 
 racy first begins to merge into a voluptuous court. 
 
 Through this moving and shifting web of ambition 
 and intrigue the royal Edward moved with a careless 
 grace: simple himself, because his object was won, and 
 pleasure had supplanted ambition. His indolent, joy- 
 ous 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 dex- 
 terous 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 abhorring 
 excess, and regarding with astonished disdain the 
 heavy meals and deep draughts of -the Saxon, had long 
 ceased to characterise the offspring of that noblest of 
 all noble races. Warwick, whose stately manliness was 
 disgusted with whatever savoured of effeminacy or de- 
 bauch, 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 drank very little less. Of few 
 courtiers could the same be said! Over the lavish 
 profligacy and excess of the court, however, a veil,
 
 244 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 dazzling to the young and high-spirited, was thrown. 
 Edward was thoroughly the cavalier, deeply imbued 
 v/ith the romance of chivalry, and, while making the 
 absolute woman his plaything, always treated the ideal 
 woman as a goddess. A refined gallantry a deferen- 
 tial courtesy to dame and demoiselle united the lan- 
 guage 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 himself, too, it was so impossi- 
 ble to judge with severe justice, that his extraordinary 
 popularity in London, where he was daily seen, was 
 never diminished by 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 ca- 
 pacities 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 acuteness and address. Like 
 most extravagant men, he had a wholesome touch of 
 avarice. That contempt for commerce which charac- 
 terises 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 archbish- 
 ops scrupled not to derive revenues from what we
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 245 
 
 should now esteem the literal resources of trade.* No 
 house had ever shown itself on this point more liberal 
 in its policy, more free from feudal prejudices, than 
 that of the Plantagenets. Even Edward II. was tena- 
 cious 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 and power. Edward III. is still called 
 
 * The Abbot of St. Albans (temp. Henry III.) was a vendor 
 of Yarmouth bloaters. The Cistercian Monks were wool-mer- 
 chants ; 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 " of the two, because 
 Henry IV. was the popular choice, and, in fact, an elected, 
 not an hereditary king, so it cannot be too emphatically re- 
 peated, 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 immense section, almost a majority of the people, who 
 had been persecuted by the Lancastrian kings as Lollards, re- 
 venged 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 noth- 
 ing 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 fol- 
 lowed by a third advantage to the popular cause viz., in the 
 determined desire both of Edward and Richard 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 forbid- 
 ding the nobles to give badges and liveries ; " in other words, 
 to appropriate armies under the name of retainers. Henry 
 VII., in short, did not originate the policy for which he has 
 monopolised 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 III.
 
 246 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 the Father of English Commerce; but Edward IV. 
 carried the theories of his ancestors into far more ex- 
 tensive 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 ceconomics, 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 association in risk and gain, 
 and the common conversation that it made between 
 the affable monarch and the homeliest trader, served 
 to increase his popularity, and to couple it with respect 
 for practical sense. Edward IV. was in all this pre- 
 eminently THE MAN OF HIS 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 commer- 
 cial tendencies of Edward, because, at this 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 dishonour that powerful 
 minister, and drive him from the councils of the king. 
 
 One morning Hastings received a summons to at- 
 tend Edward, and on entering the royal chamber, he 
 found already assembled, Lord Rivers, the queen's
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 247 
 
 father, Anthony Woodville, and the Earl of Worces- 
 ter. 
 
 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 proceeded thus: "But 
 it is just I should apprise you that there be strange 
 rumours as to the marvellous love that King Louis 
 shows 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." 
 
 " I observe," said Hastings, glancing to the super- 
 scription, " that this letter is addressed to my Lord 
 Rivers. Can he avouch the fidelity of his correspond- 
 ent?" 
 
 "Surely, yes," answered Rivers; " it is a gentleman 
 of my own blood." 
 
 " Were he not so accredited," returned Hastings, 
 " 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 con- 
 nected 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."
 
 248 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 " Certes," said Sir Anthony Woodville, " it grieveth 
 the pride of an English knight, that we should be be- 
 holden 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? " 
 
 " Beau sire," said Hastings, " thou 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 reference 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 Frenchman, 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 Ed- 
 ward 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 discover.^ that Margaret of Anjou 
 has been of late in London, and that treasonable de- 
 signs were meditated, though now frustrated, so we
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 249 
 
 may ask why the friends of Lancaster really stood 
 aloof? why all conspiracy was, and is in vain? Be- 
 cause, sire, of this very alliance with France; because 
 the gold and subsidies of Louis are not forthcoming; 
 because the Lancastrians see that if once Lord War- , 
 wick 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 in- 
 terested 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 remain neutral in the feud 
 with France. All these reasons, sire, urge me to sup- 
 port my private foe, the Lord Warwick, and to pray 
 you to give no ear to the discrediting his honour and 
 his embassy." 
 
 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 ex- 
 plained, 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 whose alle- 
 giance 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-
 
 250 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 pressed anger; " these references beseem not the coun- 
 cils of grave men." 
 
 " Tut, Hastings," said Edward, laughing merrily 
 "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 wim- 
 ple. Go on, Rivers." 
 
 " Your pardon, my Lord Hastings," said Rivers 
 "I knew not my thrust went so home; there is an- 
 other letter I have not yet laid before the king." He 
 drew forth a scroll from his bosom, and read as fol- 
 lows : 
 
 " Yesterday the earl feasted the king, and as, in dis- 
 charge 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 de- 
 clares he shall yet wed the Lady Margaret, and that 
 he laughs at your ambassage. What if our brother, 
 King Edward, fall back from the treaty ? ' ' He durst 
 not!' said the earl." 
 
 "Durst not!" exclaimed Edward, starting to his 
 feet, and striking the table with his clenched hand, 
 " Durst not! Hastings, hear you that?" 
 
 Hastings bowed his head, in assent. " Is that all, 
 Lord Rivers? " 
 
 "All! and methinks enough." 
 
 "Enough, by my halidame!" said Edward, laugh- 
 ing bitterly; "he shall see what a king dares, when a 
 subject threatens. Admit the worshipful the deputies 
 from our city of London lord chamberlain, 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 vari- 
 ous corporate companies of London.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 251 
 
 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, praying 
 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 med- 
 itated alliance with France, beseeching his grace to 
 satisfy them as to certain rumours, already very prej- 
 udicial to their commerce, of the possibility 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 dep- 
 utation for their zeal for the public weal that a king 
 would have enough to do if he contravened every gos- 
 sip's tale; but that it was his firm purpose to protect, 
 in all ways, the London traders, and to maintain the 
 most amicable understanding with the Duke of Bur- 
 gundy. 
 
 The supplicators then withdrew from the royal pres- 
 ence. 
 
 " Note you ho\^ gracious the king was to me? " 
 whispered Master i^.yford 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 significant- 
 ly ; " you have timed it well ! " and passing by them, 
 without further comment, he took the way to the 
 queen's chamber.
 
 252 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 Elizabeth was playing with her infant daughter, 
 tossing the child in the air, and laughing at its riotous 
 laughter. The stern old Duchess of Bedford, 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 duchess, break- 
 ing 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 durst not! ' 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 durst not' said Warwick, 
 ' because what a noble heart dares least is to belie the 
 plighted word, and what the kind heart shuns most is 
 to wrong the confiding friend.' ' 
 
 " It was fortunate," said the duchess, " that Edward 
 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 presume to
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 253 
 
 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 interest 
 on behalf of his merchandise; be it Margaret's, to move 
 his heart by soft tears for the bold Charolois; 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 chivalrous 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! " 
 
 CHAPTER 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 lit- 
 tle time after Edward's gracious reception of the Lon- 
 don deputies), when Nicholas Alwyn, accompanied by 
 two servitors armed to the teeth for they carried with 
 them goods of much value, and even in the broad
 
 254 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 daylight, and amidst the most frequented parts of the 
 city, men still confided 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 animated 
 but whispered conversation, when the goldsmith en- 
 tered; and there was an unusual gaiety in the queen's 
 countenance as she turned to Alwyn and bade him 
 show her his newest gauds. 
 
 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 fash- 
 ion, the duchess disappeared for a moment, and re- 
 turned with the Princess 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 complaisant vanity at 
 these words, and, drawing near the queen, looked si- 
 lently at a collar of pearls, which Elizabeth held. 
 
 " If I may adventure so to say," observed Alwyn, 
 "pearls will mightily beseem her highness's youthful 
 bloom! and lo! here be some adornments for the bod- 
 ice or partelet, to sort with the collar; not," added the
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 255 
 
 goldsmith, bowing low, and looking down, " not, per- 
 chance, displeasing to her highness, in that they are 
 wrought in the guise of the fleur de lis " 
 
 An impatient gesture in the queen, and a sudden 
 cloud over the fair brow of Margaret, instantly betok- 
 ened to the shrewd trader that he had committed some 
 most unwelcome error in this last allusion to the alli- 
 ance with King Louis of France, which, according to 
 rinnour, 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 
 ipare 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 ab- 
 ruptly; " they are at best pale and sicklied. What hast 
 thou of bolder ornament, and more dazzling lustrous- 
 ness?" 
 
 " These emeralds, it is said, were once among the 
 jewels of the great house of Burgundy," observed 
 Nicholas, slowly, and fixing his keen, sagacious look 
 on the royal purchasers. 
 
 " Of Burgundy! " exclaimed the queen. 
 
 " It is true," said the Duchess of Bedford, looking 
 at the ornament with care, and slightly colouring 
 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 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.
 
 256 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 " 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 between 
 princes, young man, can never be rightly understood 
 by such as thou and thy friends. The Count of Cha- 
 rolois 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 not 
 have been well received; and the queen, putting 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 discovered 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
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 257 
 
 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 merchants 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, scorn- 
 fully; " 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." 
 
 " 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 sur- 
 rendered for fine words from King Louis the Cun- 
 ning? " 
 
 " We trust too much to our king's love for the cit- 
 izens of London to fear that surrender, please your 
 highness," answered Alwyn; "our king himself 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 your 
 king will yet defend you from the plots of your ene- 
 mies. 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 
 VOL. I. 17
 
 258 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 who attended him, and passing slowly along the court- 
 yard, thus soliloquised: 
 
 " 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 to match the young princess 
 with the hot Count of 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 
 England! and King Louis is an awful carle, to sow 
 flax in his neighbour's house, when the torches are 
 burning. Um! Here is fair Marmaduke. He looks 
 brave in his gay supertunic. 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 venders 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 brother, 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
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 259 
 
 to exchange hard blows that Sir Anthony of 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? 
 You 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 seem- 
 eth, indeed, strange to me that the Count of Charolois 
 should take this very moment to send envoys of cour- 
 tesy, 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 Mar- 
 garet. 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 burgo- 
 not is as full of tricks and traps as a citizen's flat-cap. 
 Would, though, that my kinsmen of Warwick 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 between 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 will not be by thy side, under Warwick's 
 broad flag." 
 
 " 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
 
 260 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 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 con- 
 firmed 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 Sibyll, 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 somewhat affect- 
 ed tone in which he had before spoken, " I must con- 
 fess, 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 
 Sibyll Warner as your wife ? " 
 
 "Verily, yes!" 
 
 "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 wondrously changed." 
 
 " More's the pity! " said Alwyn, reciprocating his 
 friend's sigh.
 
 26 1 
 
 " 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 upstairs." 
 
 " Farewell, Master Nevile," said Alwyn, smiling; 
 " I will seek the mechanician, and if I find there Mis- 
 tress Sibyll, what shall I say from thee? " 
 
 " That young bachelors in the reign of Edward IV. 
 will never want fair feres," answered the Nevile, deb- 
 bonairly smoothing his lawn partelet. 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 EXHIBITING THE BENEFITS WHICH ROYAL PATRONAGE 
 CONFERS ON GENIUS. ALSO THE EARLY LOVES OF 
 THE LORD HASTINGS; WITH OTHER MATTERS EDIFY- 
 ING AND DELECTABLE 
 
 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 practical invention. 
 The mathematician the philosopher had descended 
 to the alchemist. The nature of the TIME had con- 
 quered the nature of a GENIUS meant to subdue time. 
 Those studies that had gone so far to forestall the 
 
 * This description refers to that part of the Tower called 
 the King's or Queen's Lodge, and long since destroyed.
 
 262 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 master-triumph of far later ages, were exchanged for 
 occupations that played with the toys of infant wis- 
 dom. O ! true Tartarus of Genius when its ener- 
 gies are misapplied, 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 intellect, 
 which often leads them into follies avoided by the 
 dull. When Adam Warner saw the ruin of his con- 
 trivance ; when he felt that time and toil, and money 
 were necessary to its restoration ; and when the gold 
 he lacked was placed before him as a reward for al- 
 chemical 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 dar- 
 ling end. But by rapid degrees the fascination which 
 all the elder sages experienced in the grand secret, 
 exercised its witchery over his mind. If Roger Ba- 
 con, 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 a while 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 complete 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, Nich- 
 olas Alwyn ? "
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 263 
 
 " Remember, oh, certes ! doubtless one of the gen- 
 tlemen present when they proposed to put me 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 sup- 
 pose you see but little of her now she is the great 
 dame's waiting-damsel?" 
 
 "And why so, Master Alwyn?" asked a charming 
 voice; and Alwyn, for the first time, perceived the 
 young form of Sibyll, 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, glitter- 
 ing with cloth of gold. Alwyn's tongue clove to his 
 mouth ; all he had to say was forgotten in a certain 
 bashful and indescribable 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 hum- 
 bler home, where they may need each other less ? " 
 
 " I thank thee for the rebuke, mistress," said Al- 
 wyn, delighted with her speech ; " for I should have 
 been sorry to see thy heart spoiled by the vanities 
 that kill most natures." Scarcely had he uttered these 
 words, than they seemed to him overbold and pre- 
 suming ; for his eye now took in the great change of 
 which Marmaduke had spoken. Sibyll's dress be- 
 seemed the new rank which she held: the corset, 
 * Brake, the old word for rack.
 
 264 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 fringed with gold, and made of the finest thread, 
 showed the exquisite contour of the throat and neck, 
 whose ivory it concealed. The kirtle of rich blue 
 became the fair complexion and dark chestnut hair; 
 and over all she wore that most graceful robe called 
 the sasquenice, of which the old French poet sang: 
 
 " Car nulle robe n'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 variations, 
 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 altera- 
 tion in the expression and the bearing. She looked 
 as if born to the air of courts ; still modest, indeed, and 
 simple but with a consciousness of dignity, and al- 
 most 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 of beauty. Her accomplish- 
 ments, 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 before 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 san- 
 guine 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
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 265 
 
 of Sibyll Nicholas Alwyn recoiled, and turned pale 
 he no longer marvelled at her rejection of Marma- 
 duke, and he started at the remembrance of the bold 
 thoughts which 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 Al- 
 wyn ; " but the humble must console their state by 
 thinking that the great have their trials too; and, 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 Sibyll ? " 
 
 " 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 con- 
 sult this worshipful master, touching certain improve- 
 ments in the horologe, in which his mathematics can 
 doubtless instruct me Farewell. I have some jew- 
 els to show to the Lady of Bonville." 
 
 " The Lady of Bonville ! " repeated Sibyll, changing 
 colour ; " she is a dame of notable loveliness." 
 
 " 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 with- 
 out fear, and all the women without stain.' " 
 
 " It is said," observed Sibyll, looking down, " that
 
 266 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 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-morrow. Surely, 
 yes ; and hence, they say, the small love the wise Has- 
 tings bears to the stout earl." 
 
 " 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 Nevile, 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 Salisbury 
 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 quar- 
 terings of Montagu and Nevile. Marry, Mistress 
 Sibyll, 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 extor- 
 tioner, and left to brave William the heirship of his 
 wickedness 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
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 267 
 
 a troop at his back, or was like to have a rope round 
 his neck ; but the earl (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 thee 
 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 gossips 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 
 Sibyll, 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 fa- 
 miliarity of one accustomed to the place. 
 
 " And how fares the grand secret, Master Warner? 
 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 emblazoner. 
 Move me yon stool, good Alwyn." 
 
 As the goldsmith obeyed, he glanced from Has- 
 tings to the blushing face and heaving bosom of 
 Sibyll, 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 Sibyll, if for such a man the cheek 
 blushed, and the bosom heaved !
 
 268 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 " Well, Master Warner," resumed Hastings, " thou 
 art still silent as to thy progress." 
 
 The philosopher uttered an impatient groan. 
 
 " Ah, I comprehend. The goldmaker 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 overtarried, 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 with- 
 drew " 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 
 haughty and so happy. This is early May; will she 
 wear that look when the autumn leaves are strewn ? " 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE WOODVILLE INTRIGUE PROSPERS MONTAGU CON- 
 FERS WITH HASTINGS VISITS THE ARCHBISHOP OF 
 
 YORK, AND IS MET ON THE ROAD BY A STRANGE 
 PERSONAGE 
 
 And now the one topic at the court of King Edward 
 IV. was the expected arrival of Anthony of Bur- 
 gundy, Count de la Roche, bastard brother of Charo- 
 lois, afterwards, as Duke of Burgundy, so famous as
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 269 
 
 Charles the Bold. Few, indeed, out of the immediate 
 circle of the Duchess of Bedford's confidants, re- 
 garded the visit of this illustrious foreigner as con- 
 nected 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 bas- 
 tard, still extant, and of which an extract may be seen 
 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 ' he 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 obtained the king's permission to 
 bring the adventure of the flower of souvenance to a 
 conclusion, the gallant Anthony forwarded the ar- 
 ticles and the enamelled flower to the bastard of Bur- 
 gundy, beseeching him to touch the latter with his 
 knightly hand, in token of his accepting the chal- 
 lenge. The Count de la Roche did so, but was not 
 sent by his brother amongst the knights whom Charo- 
 lois despatched to England, and the combat had been 
 suspended to the present time. 
 
 But now the intriguing Rivers and his duchess 
 * " Queens of England," vdl. iii. p. 380.
 
 270 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 gladly availed themselves of so fair a pretext for intro- 
 ducing to Edward the able brother of Warwick's en- 
 emy, and the French prince's rival, Charles of Bur- 
 gundy ; and Anthony Woodville, too gentle and 
 knightly a person to have abetted their cunning proj- 
 ects in any mode less chivalrous, willingly consented 
 to revive a challenge in honour of the ladies of Eng- 
 land. 
 
 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., was no 
 longer in unison with the more intriguing and am- 
 bitious times over which presided the luxurious hus- 
 band 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 de- 
 lighted in his companionship, had shown him marks 
 of coldness and estrangement, and there was an ex- 
 ulting 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 Marmaduke was loitering 
 in the courtyard of the Tower, laughing 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 W'arwick had so far attended to the recommenda- 
 tion of the latter, that he had with some courtesy ex- 
 cused himself to Marmaduke for his language in the 
 archery-ground, and had subsequently, when seeing
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 271 
 
 him in attendance on the king, honoured him with a 
 stately nod, or a brief " Good morrow, young kins- 
 man." 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 esteems 
 you for your father's sake. And, sooth to say, the 
 Neviles are not so numerous in court as they were. 
 Business and state matters have made me see too sel- 
 dom 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 excused." 
 
 " 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." 
 
 " Fair my lord ! " as at that moment Hastings 
 emerged from the little postern 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,
 
 272 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 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 popin- 
 jay, 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 Hastings, 
 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 warriors and peers 
 of England, with a crest as haught, and a scutcheon 
 as stainless as the best. I have drunk deep of the 
 world's pleasures. I command, 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 loveliness of the earth faded into win- 
 ter, 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 I 
 married not the maiden I thought the fairest, and 
 held the dearest. For the rest, bethink thee thou 
 wert then but a simple squire."
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 273 
 
 " 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 impoverished, 
 are cheaply held. And thou must confess thou wert 
 then no mate for Katherine. Now, indeed, it were 
 different ; now a Nevile might be proud to call Has- 
 tings brother." 
 
 " I know it," said Hastings, proudly " I know it, 
 my lord, and why? Because I have gold, and land, 
 and the king's love, and can say, as the Centurion to 
 my fellow-man, ' Do this, and he doeth it ; ' and yet 
 I tell thee, 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- 
 worthy pleasures or mean intrigues, I felt that Kath- 
 erine Nevile 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 wake 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 pol- 
 icy; 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 
 VOL. I. 18
 
 274 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 king's dissour tell him a tale of some tyrant, who 
 silently showed a curious questioner how to govern a 
 land, by cutting down, with his staff, the heads of the 
 tallest poppies ; and the Duchess of Bedford turned 
 to me, and asked ' What says a Nevile to the appli- 
 cation ? ' ' Faith, lady,' said I, ' the Nevile poppies 
 have oak stems.' Believe me, Hastings, these Wood- 
 villes may grieve, and wrong, and affront Lord War- 
 wick, but woe to all the pigmy goaders when the lion 
 turns at bay." 
 
 With this solemn menace, Montagu quitted Has- 
 tings, and passed on, leaning upon Marmaduke, and 
 with a gloomy brow. 
 
 At the gate of the palace waited the Lord Montagu'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." Mar- 
 maduke obeyed. The earl dismissed 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 eavesdroppers here." 
 
 " He is a most gracious master, and a most winning 
 gentleman." 
 
 " He is both," said Montagu, with a touch of emo- 
 tion, that surprised Marmaduke, " and no man 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 Neviles must hold fast to each other.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 275 
 
 Not a stick should be lost if the fagot 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 hon- 
 ours, and love pleasure, and would be loth to lift fin- 
 ger or speak word against King Edward, yet were 
 that princely lord the head of mine house an out- 
 cast 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 soli- 
 tary in heaven ! " So saying, he relapsed 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 
 cultivated 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 proprie- 
 tors had greater capital at their command, partly be- 
 cause their superior learning had taught them to avail 
 themselves, in some measure, of the instructions of the 
 Latin writers. Still the prevailing characteristic of 
 the scenery was pasture land immense tracts of com- 
 mon 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
 
 276 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 (more primitive still) of mud and clay, profuse weeds, 
 brambles, and wild flowers, almost concealed the nar- 
 row pathway, never intended for cart or waggon, 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 economist or philanthropist, 
 broad England now, with its variegated agriculture, 
 its wide roads, its white-walled 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 verd- 
 ure 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 luxuri- 
 ous reading of our elder writers. For the country 
 itself ministered to that mingled fancy and contempla- 
 tion which the stirring and ambitious life of towns and 
 civilisation has in much banished from our later 
 literature. 
 
 Even the thoughtful Montagu relaxed his brow as 
 he gazed around, and he said to Marmaduke, 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 
 ourselves."
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 277 
 
 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 soldierly 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 a half-wizard, 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, pr^ 
 jecting far over the face. 
 
 The foremost of these strangers, coming thus un- 
 awares 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 brings 
 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,
 
 278 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 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 
 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 con- 
 triving mischief to the boy-duke.* Are not the Com- 
 mons ground by imposts 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 ! " 
 
 " And who art thou, knave ? " cried Montagu, 
 aghast, and laying his gloved hand on the bold 
 prophet's bridle. 
 
 * See for this and other instances of the prevalent contempt 
 of law in the reign of Edward IV., and, indeed, during the 
 fifteenth century, the extracts from the Parliamentary Rolls, 
 quoted by Sharon Turner, " History of England," vol. iii., 
 P- 399-
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 279 
 
 " 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 astonishment, 
 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 Lancastrian 
 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 Marmaduke, 
 " I have seen the man before, and it seemeth to me thai 
 he holds much power over the rascal rabble." And 
 here Marmaduke narrated the attack upon Warner'* 
 house, and how it was frustrated by the intercession 
 of Robin of Redesdale. 
 
 " Art thou sure it is the same man, for his face was 
 masked ? " 
 
 " My lord, in the north, as thou knowest, we recog- 
 nise 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.' "
 
 28o THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 " Robin ! ah, then I guess the man a most perilous 
 and stanch Lancastrian. He has more weight with 
 the poor than had Cade the rebel, and they say Mar- 
 garet trusts him as much as she doth an Exeter or 
 Somerset. I marvel that he should show 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 Marma- 
 duke. And the splendour of the archbishop's retinue 
 less martial, indeed, than Warwick'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 hounds, chamberlain, treasurer, pursui- 
 vant, herald, seneschal, captain of the body-guard, &c. 
 and all emulously sought for and proudly held by 
 gentlemen 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 architect- 
 ure, but its clumsy proportions were made more un-
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 281 
 
 couth by a proportion 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. Marmaduke, much 
 astounded and bewildered, muttered a pater-noster in 
 great haste ; and even the clerical rank of the prelate 
 did not preserve him 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, confectionery, 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 Montagu, 
 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 somewhat 
 neglected in the province," said Marmaduke, discon- 
 certed, 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
 
 282 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 churchmen are more cunning, as the profane call us 
 (and the prelate smiled), than ye of the laity, the 
 Latin must answer for the sins of our learning." 
 
 With this, the archbishop passed his arm affection- 
 ately 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 hungered in these 
 cool gloaming hours." 
 
 " Dismiss my comrade, George I would speak to 
 thee," whispered Montagu. 
 
 " Thou knowest not Latin ? " said the archbishop, 
 turning with a compassionate eye to Nevile, whose 
 own eye was amorously fixed on the delicate confec- 
 tioneries " 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 wondrous improver 
 of tender youth " and the prelate 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. 
 
 The archbishop had very little of the energy of Mon- 
 tagu or the impetuosity of Warwick, but he had far 
 more of what we now call mind, as distinct from tal- 
 ent, 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
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 283 
 
 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 diplomacy 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 dominators 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 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 hon- 
 esty. For him no such thing as principle existed ; and 
 conscience itself lay dead in the folds of a fancied ex- 
 emption from all responsibility to the dull herd, that 
 were but as wool and meat to the churchman-shepherd. 
 But withal, if somewhat pedantic, he had in his man- 
 ner a suavity and elegance and polish, which suited 
 Veil his high station, and gave persuasion to his coun- 
 sels. In all externals, he was as little like a priest as 
 the high-born prelates of that day usually were. In 
 dress, he rivalled the fopperies of the Plantagenet 
 
 * 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.
 
 284 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 brothers. In the chase, he was more ardent than War- 
 wick 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 himself 
 should demand solemn audience of Edward, and 
 gravely remonstrate with the king on the impropriety 
 of receiving the brother of a rival suitor, while War- 
 wick 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 dictated to his hospitality. 
 Is a king less irritable than baron, knight, :ranklin, 
 and priest? or rather, being, as it were, per legem, 
 lord of all, hath he not irritability eno' 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 idle- 
 ness and ease of temper, but with more of the dozing 
 lion than priests, who have only, look you, the mild- 
 ness of the dove. Prick up his higher spirit, not by 
 sharp remonstrance, but by seeming trust. Observe 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 hu- 
 miliating overthrow of his embassage but that all 
 men know how steadfast in faith and honour is Ed- 
 ward 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
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 285 
 
 he had 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, iracundus! " said the archbishop ; " 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 
 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 dan- 
 ger is to enlist the honour of the king in his behalf 
 to show 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 Montagu, 
 and the brothers returned with one mind to the house. 
 Here, as after their ablutions, they sat down to the 
 evening meal, the archbishop remembered poor Mar- 
 maduke, and despatched to him one of his thirty 
 household chaplains. Marmaduke was found fast 
 asleep over the second tense of the verb amo. 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE ARRIVAL OF THE COUNT DE LA ROCHE, AND THE 
 VARIOUS EXCITEMENT PRODUCED ON MANY PER- 
 SONAGES 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 par-
 
 286 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 tially 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 commercial 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 de la Roche 
 entered London. Though Hastings made no secret 
 of his distaste to the Count de la Roche's visit, it be- 
 came his office as lord chamberlain 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 em- 
 ployed under Henry III., and on the elevation 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, Mon- 
 tagu, Rivers, D'Eyncourt, 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 ladye-badge of the S. S., and his fine 
 person clad in white-flowered velvet of Genoa, adorned 
 with pearls. Stepping forward, as the count appeared, 
 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,
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 287 
 
 and justly deserving Hall's praise as a man of " great 
 witte, courage, valiantness, and liberalitie," did not 
 affect to conceal the admiration 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 cheva- 
 lier, who hath crossed the seas in honour of knight- 
 hood 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 us at least that thou art our guest. 
 By our halidame, Lord Scales, thou must look well to 
 thy lance and thy steeds' girths, for never, I trow, hast 
 thou met a champion of goodlier strength and knight- 
 lier mettle." 
 
 " My lord king," answered the count, " I fear me, 
 indeed, that a knight like the Sieur Anthony, who 
 fights under the eyes of such a king, will prove invin- 
 cible. 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 touch- 
 ing the bastard's shoulder, " were a fearful lance to 
 encounter, even though Charlemagne himself were to 
 revive, with his twelve paladins at his back. Tell us, 
 Sir Count," added the king, drawing himself up 
 " tell us, for we soldiers are curious 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
 
 288 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 is indeed mighty with the brand and battle-axe, but 
 your grace is taller by half the head, and, perad- 
 venture, 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 compliment, 
 the truth of which was too obvious to move much van- 
 ity, 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 Eu- 
 rope. 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 per- 
 son. We have taken from him his lawful office, for 
 we kings are jealous, and would not have our subjects 
 more honoured than ourselves." 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 
 countenance of Montagu. " Lord Hastings," he con- 
 tinued, " to your keeping, as our representative, we 
 intrust this gentleman. He must need refreshment ere 
 we present him to our queen." 
 
 The count bowed to the ground, and reverently with- 
 drew from the royal presence, accompanied by Has- 
 tings. Edward then, singling Anthony Woodville and 
 Lord Rivers from the group, broke up the audience, 
 and, followed by those two noblemen, quitted the hall. 
 
 Montagu, whose countenance had recovered the dig- 
 nified and high-born calm habitual to it, turned to the 
 Duke of Clarence, and observed, indifferently " The 
 Count de la Roche hath a goodly mien, and a fair 
 tongue."
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 289 
 
 " Pest on these Burgundians ! " answered Clarence, 
 in an undertone, 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 matters 
 whose lance breaks, or whose destrier stumbles ? " 
 
 " 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 devised by the 
 Woodvilles to mortify and disparage in his solemn em- 
 bassy to Burgundy's mightiest foe ! I ! " 
 
 " Sooth to say," said the young prince, much em- 
 barrassed, " it grieves me sorely to hear thee speak 
 as if Warwick would be angered at this pastime. 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 immedi- 
 ately checked, and changed into a tone that concealed, 
 beneath outward respect, the keenest 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 in- 
 deed 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 Clar- 
 ence, falteringly, " in honour of the fairest maid of all 
 VOL. I. 19
 
 290 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 the flower of English beauty the Lady Isabel that 
 j " 
 
 " Your highness will pardon me," interrupted Mon- 
 tagu, " 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 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 Gloucester. 
 
 " A word with you, Montagu noblest and most 
 prized, with your princely brothers, of the champions 
 of our house, I read your generous indignation 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 some- 
 what 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 counte- 
 nance and friendship, for which I also, believe me 
 and the families of Beauchamp, Montagu, and Nevile 
 are duly grateful. But to speak plainly (with your 
 grace's youthful candour, so 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
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 291 
 
 foresee, in this visit of the bastard Anthony, the most 
 signal disgrace to Warwick that ever king passed upon 
 ambassador or gentleman. And this moves me more ! 
 yea, I vow to St. George, my patron, it moves me 
 more by the thought of danger to your royal house, 
 than by 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 Woodvilles ! 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 chil- 
 dren?" 
 
 " 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 unhappy 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 dulness 
 proves your loyalty ; but, with me, the king's brother, 
 frankness were safe. Thou knowest well that the king 
 was betrothed before to the Lady Eleanor Talbot ; that 
 such betrothal, not set aside by the pope, renders his 
 marriage with Elizabeth 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."
 
 292 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 " Our Lord forefend," 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 Clar- 
 ence 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 bid fair to outlive the king." 
 
 Montagu fixed his penetrating eyes on Richard, but 
 dropped them, abashed, before that steady, deep, unre- 
 vealing gaze, which seemed to pierce into other hearts, 
 and show nothing of the heart within. 
 
 " Happy Clarence ! " resumed the prince, with a 
 heavy sigh, and after a brief pause " a Nevile's hus- 
 band 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 not know, perad- 
 venture, sweet Montagu, how deep an interest I have 
 in maintaining all amity between Lord Warwick and 
 the king. For methinks 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, recovering 
 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 dis-
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 293 
 
 please my king. The great earl 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 confront 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 concealed him till 
 Montagu had left the yard, instead of descending to 
 his barge, he turned back into the royal garden. Here 
 several of the court of both sexes were assembled, con- 
 ferring on the event of the day. Richard halted at a 
 distance, and contemplated their gay dresses and 
 animated countenances with something between mel- 
 ancholy and scorn upon his young brow. One of the 
 most remarkable social characteristics of the middle 
 ages is the prematurity at which the great arrived at 
 manhood, shared in its passions, and indulged its am- 
 bitions. Among the numerous instances in our own 
 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 dis- 
 cipline of a college. The whole of his portentous career 
 was closed, indeed, before the public life of modern 
 ambition usually commences. Little could those ac- 
 customed to see, on our stage, " the elderly ruffian " * 
 our actors represent, imagine that at the opening of 
 Shakespeare's play of " Richard the Third," the hero 
 was but in his nineteenth year; but at the still more 
 * Sharon Turner.
 
 294 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 juvenile age in which he appears in this our record, 
 Richard of Gloucester was older in intellect, and al- 
 most 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 ! 
 
 The young prince, then, eyed the gaudy, fluttering, 
 babbling assemblage before him with mingled melan- 
 choly and scorn. Not that 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 his arm in war or les- 
 sen his persuasive influences in peace. But it was 
 rather that sadness which so often comes over an active 
 and ambitious intellect in early youth, when it pauses 
 to ask, in sorrow and disdain, what its plots and coun- 
 terplots, its restlessness and strife, are really worth. 
 The scene before him was of pleasure but in pleas- 
 ure, 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 comparatively free from the licentiousness of his 
 times. His passions were too large for frivolous ex- 
 citements. Already the Italian, or, as it is falsely 
 called, the Machiavelian policy, was pervading the in- 
 tellect of Europe, and the effects of its ruthless, grand, 
 and deliberate statecraft are visible from the accession 
 of Edward IV. till the close of Elizabeth's reign. With 
 this policy, which reconciled itself to crime as a neces- 
 sity of wisdom, was often blended a refinement of char- 
 acter which disdained vulgar vices. Not skilled alone 
 in those knightly accomplishments which induced Cax- 
 ton, with propriety, to dedicate to Richard " The Book 
 of the Order of Chivalry," the Duke of Gloucester's 
 more peaceful amusements were borrowed from se-
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 295 
 
 verer 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 war- 
 like kind Painting, and Architecture ; 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 Nor- 
 man 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 distance, 
 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, turn- 
 ing round in surprise, made a low reverence, as she ex- 
 claimed " 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 carriage evinced no 
 opinion of herself so humble as her words would imply. 
 
 " My lady of Bonville," said the young duke, 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 mo- 
 ment. Mirth cannot tarnish glory the mirror in which 
 the gods are glassed." 
 
 " I understand you, my lord," said the proud lady;
 
 296 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 and her face, before stern and high, brightened 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 remarkable in its degree, and pecul- 
 iar 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 ex- 
 pression, 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 hateful fashion of that day, which per- 
 vaded all ranks, from the highest to the lowest, was the 
 prodigal use of paints and cosmetics, and all imaginable 
 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 toilet as the 
 vainest wanton in our day would never venture to ac- 
 knowledge. But the Lady Bonville, proudly confident 
 of her beauty, and possessing a purity of mind that re- 
 volted from the littleness of courting admiration, con- 
 trasted forcibly 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, 
 showed that in earlier youth the virgin bloom had not 
 been absent from the surface. There was in her feat- 
 ures, when they reposed, somewhat of the trace of suf-
 
 297 
 
 fering, of a struggle, past it may be, but still remem- 
 bered. 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 ma- 
 tronly 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 glossy locks, which her tire- 
 woman boasted, when released, swept the ground, were 
 gathered into a modest and simple braid, surmounted 
 by the beseeming coronet that proclaimed her rank. 
 The Lady Bonville might have stood by the side of Cor- 
 nelia, 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, meaningly. " 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 as loudly as 
 a man's : and that heart beats for Anne." 
 
 " The love of Richard Plantagenet honours even 
 Warwick's daughter ! "
 
 298 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 in- 
 terceders 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 be put upon 
 the throne ? " 
 
 " What if he forgive the Lancastrians ? What 
 if 
 
 " Utter not the thought, prince, breathe it not," ex- 
 claimed 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 gorv head of that old man upon the gates of York, 
 could by word or deed abet the cause of usurping 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 in- 
 struments, and a procession of heralds and pages pro- 
 ceeding from the palace, announced the approach 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,"
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 299 
 
 made his graceful reverence, 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 composure. She 
 then passed on, with a stately step, towards a group of 
 the ladies of the court, and her eye noted with proud 
 pleasure that the highest names of the English knight- 
 hood and nobility, comprising the numerous connec- 
 tions of her family, formed a sullen circle apart from 
 the rest, betokening, 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 Woodvilles. 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 iri himself of the old Nor- 
 man seignorie, in their centre), with folded arms and 
 lowering brows, stood the earl's kinsmen, the Lords 
 Fitzhugh and Fauconberg: with them, Thomas Lord 
 Stanley, a prudent noble, who rarely sided with a mal- 
 content, and the Lord St. John, and the heir of the 
 ancient Bergavennies, and many another chief, under 
 whose banner marched an army ! Richard of Glouces- 
 ter had shown 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 saluta- 
 tion, and unbonneted heads, contrasted forcibly with 
 the slight and grave, if not scornful, obeisance they had
 
 300 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 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, sarcas- 
 tically, " the Count de la Roche is, I hear, consigned to 
 your especial charge." 
 
 " A charge the chamberlain cannot refuse, and which 
 William Hastings does not covet." 
 
 " A king had never asked Montagu and Warwick to 
 consider amongst their duties any charge they had 
 deemed dishonouring." 
 
 " Dishonouring, Lady Bonville ! " exclaimed Has- 
 tings, with a bent brow and a flushed cheek, " neither 
 Montagu nor Warwick had, with safety, applied 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 dishonouring in a noble na- 
 ture to countenance insult to a noble enemy in his ab- 
 sence. 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 varletaille which 
 falsehood and cringing have stablished in these walls, 
 and baptised under the name of ' courtiers.' Better had 
 Katherine de Bonville esteemed Lord Hastings had he 
 rather fallen under a king's displeasure than debased 
 his better self to a Woodville'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!
 
 3oi 
 
 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, 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 Has- 
 tings, with a withering sarcasm) doubtless the Lady de 
 Bonville more admires the happy lord who holds him- 
 self, 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 bystanders 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 urn 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 courtiers sneered ; Hastings, with a look of ma- 
 lignant and pitiless triumph, eyed the Lady of Bon- 
 ville. For a moment the colour went and came across 
 her transparent cheek, but the confusion passed, and
 
 302 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 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 ma- 
 tron 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 respected. 
 
 While this scene had passed, the procession, preced- 
 ing Edward, had filed into the garden in long and 
 stately order. From another entrance, Elizabeth, 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 al- 
 cove, hung with velvets striped into the royal baudekin, 
 while the stairs themselves were covered with leathern 
 carpets, powdered 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 Jerusalem, the 
 dragon of Arragon, and the rising sun, which he had 
 assumed as his peculiar war-badge 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 
 appeared, 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 sa- 
 gacious eye, and powerful frame, did not disappoint the 
 expectations founded upon the fame of one equally 
 subtle in council and redoubted in war.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 303 
 
 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 ex- 
 tended to him. Then rising, and gazing 'full and even 
 boldly upon the young Princess Margaret, he added 
 " I have seen too often the picture of the Lady Mar- 
 garet 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 ever 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 delight; 
 and the wily envoy, leaving the impression his words 
 had made to take their due effect, addressed himself, 
 with all the gay vivacity he possessed, to the fair queen 
 and her haughty mother. 
 
 After a brief time spent in this complimentary con- 
 verse, the count then adjourned to inspect the menag- 
 erie, of which the king was very proud. Edward offer- 
 ing 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
 
 304 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 her dislike to Clarence as to ask his highness to attend 
 herself. 
 
 " Ah ! lady," whispered the count, as the procession 
 moved along, " what thrones would not Charolois re- 
 sign 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." 
 
 " Because the only living mistress his great heart 
 could serve is denied to his love! Ah, poor lord and 
 brother, what new reasons for eternal war to Bur- 
 gundy, when France, not only his foe, becomes 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 triumphant smile 
 played about his lips, when, after the visit to the me- 
 nagerie, the procession re-entered the palace, and the 
 Lord Hastings conducted the count to the bath pre- 
 pared 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 his- 
 tories of that sanguinary time, or the inventories of 
 furniture in the houses even of the great barons, was 
 the accommodation 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.* 
 
 * See Madden's Narrative of the Lord Grauthuse : " Archaeo- 
 logia," 1830.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 305 
 
 Agreeably to the manners of the time, Lord Hastings 
 assisted to disrobe the count; and, the 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 cur- 
 tain 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 rev- 
 enue, as sovereign 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 in 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 in- 
 separable ? " 
 
 " 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 
 mind is so strong and so frank, that it is as hard to de- 
 ceive him, as it is for him to be deceived." 
 
 " Time will show," said the count, pettishly, and he 
 withdrew his head into the tent. 
 VOL. I. 20
 
 306 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 And now there appeared the attendants, with hippo- 
 eras, syrups, and comfits, by way of giving appetite for 
 the supper, so that no farther opportunity 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 
 sat, 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 Anthony Woodville, while, en- 
 tirely 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 began. 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 dainty steps of An- 
 thony Woodville. But the lightest and happiest heart 
 which beat in that revel was one in which no scheme 
 and no ambition but those of love nursed the hope and 
 dreamed the triumph. 
 
 Stung by the coldness, even more than by the dis- 
 dain of the Lady Bonville, and enraged to find that no 
 taunt of his own, however galling, could ruffle a dig- 
 nity which was an insult both to memory 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 quali-
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 307 
 
 fications ranked so high, had yet made him no less re- 
 nowned 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, War- 
 wick, who had rejected his alliance, and knew the pri- 
 vate grudge the rejection bequeathed; him alone, 
 among the " new men," Warwick always treated with 
 generous respect, as a wise patriot, and a fearless sol- 
 dier; and in the more frivolous scenes of courtly life, 
 the same mind 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 gau- 
 diest 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 mournfulness 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 sat, seemingly heedless of 
 his revenge, amidst a group of matrons elder than her- 
 self, a murmur of admiration made him turn quickly, 
 and his eye following the gaze of the bystanders, rested 
 upon the sweet, animated face of Sibyll, flushed into 
 rich bloom at the notice it excited. Then as he ap- 
 proached the maiden, his quick glance darting to the 
 woman he had first loved, told him that he had at last
 
 308 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 discovered the secret how to wound. An involuntary 
 compression 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 experienced 
 woman-reader of the signs of jealousy and fear. And 
 he passed at once to the young maiden's side. Alas ! 
 what wonder that Sibyll that night surrendered her 
 heart to the happiest dreams ; and finding herself on 
 the floors of a court intoxicated by its perfumed air, 
 hearing on all sides the murmured eulogies which ap- 
 proved and justified the seeming preference of the pow- 
 erful 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 mate of the " new lord." 
 
 It was morning * before the revel ended ; and when, 
 dismissed by the Duchess of Bedford, Sibyll 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 revels, and Love deludes itself, and Ambition 
 chases its shadows (chased itself by Death) so 
 works the world-changing and world-despised SCI- 
 ENCE, the life within life, for all living, and to all 
 dead! 
 
 * The hours of our ancestors, on great occasions, were not 
 always more seasonable than our own. Froissart speaks of 
 Court Balls, in the reign of Richard II., kept up till day.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 309 
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE RENOWNED COMBAT BETWEEN SIR ANTHONY 
 WOODVILLE 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, des- 
 tined 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 ob- 
 vious to the elder and more observant spectators, that 
 the true spirit of the lists was already fast wearing 
 out from the 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 spectators, 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
 
 3io THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 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 marshalled, 
 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 sat 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, 
 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 demeanour, greatly 
 scandalized the formal heralds. That, too, was a sign 
 of the times. Nor less did it show the growth of 
 commerce, that, on seats very little below the regal 
 balconies, and far more conspicuous than the places 
 of earls and barons, sat in state the mayor (that mayor 
 a grocer ! f ) and aldermen 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 countenance, so radiant his 
 armour, and so richly caparisoned his grey steed, in 
 the gorgeous housings that almost swept the ground; 
 and around him grouped such an attendance of knights 
 
 * Fabyan. t Sir John Yonge Fabyan.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 3" 
 
 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 prob- 
 ably fell into disuse under the Tudors, disguised in 
 imitation of the heraldic beasts that typified his 
 armorial cognizance : J and horrible and laidly 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, 
 1 when the words " Laissez oiler I " 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. 
 
 J Hence the origin of Supporters.
 
 312 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 The uncourteous mob yelled and shouted and 
 laughed, and wholly disregarding the lifted wands, 
 and drowning the solemn rebukes, of the heralds, they 
 heaped upon the furious Burgundian all the expres- 
 sions of ridicule in which the wit of Cockaigne is so 
 immemorially rich. But the courteous Anthony of 
 England, seeing the strange and involuntary 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 gallant bay did not fail his rider; 
 ashamed, doubtless, of its late misdemeanour, 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 burden 
 it had borne. Then the debonnaire Sir Anthony of 
 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 LAST OF THE BARONS 313 
 
 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 com- 
 panions " 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 An- 
 thony had dismounted, and was leaning gracefully 
 against his destrier, the Burgundian called forth 
 
 " Sir Knight, thou has 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 demand repose on their 
 behalf. But bear witness "' he said (with the gen- 
 erosity 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 be- 
 friended 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 Burgundian. 
 
 " 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 himself 
 of this gallant conceit, so much in accordance with the
 
 314 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 taste of the day, the Englishman, approaching the 
 king's balcony, craved permission to finish the en- 
 counter with the axe or brand. 
 
 " The former, rather, please you, my liege ; for the 
 warriors of Burgundy have ever been deemed uncon- 
 quered 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 respect- 
 ful attention than they had hitherto shown, for the 
 pole-axe, in such stalwart hands, was no child's toy. 
 " Hum," quoth Master Stokton, " 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 ful- 
 filled. 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 
 Burgundian's helmet that well nigh brought him to 
 his knee. And now, for the space of some ten minutes, 
 the crowd, with charmed suspense, beheld 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 raged at one extreme of the lists 
 the next at the other; and so well inured, from their 
 very infancy, to the weight of mail were these re- 
 doubted 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 Wood- 
 ville 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, rendered 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 delib- 
 erately forward into the brain, when Edward, roused 
 from his delight at that pleasing spectacle by a loud 
 shriek from his sister Margaret, 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 advanced 
 severed the champions and unbraced the count's 
 helmet. But the Bastard's martial spirit, exceedingly 
 dissatisfied at the unfriendly interruption, rewarded
 
 316 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 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 sire and king," he cried, " do me not this 
 wrong! I am not overthrown, nor scathed, nor sub- 
 dued 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 sat 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 Eliz- 
 abeth then at the agitated 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 con- 
 stable, and the Duke of Norfolk, as earl marshal, 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 gallery was closed while the council 
 conferred. At the end of some three minutes, how- 
 ever, 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 encounter 
 go on." 
 
 " Oh ! knightly prince, well said. My thanks. We 
 lose time squires, my bassinet! " 
 
 " Yea," renewed Edward, "bring hither the count's
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 317 
 
 bassinet. By the laws, the combat may go on at thine 
 asking I retract my warderer. But, Count de la 
 Roche, by those laws you appeal 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 contest, 
 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, majestically reseating himself, motioned 
 to the heralds. 
 
 " Is that the law, sire? " at length faltered forth the 
 Bastard. 
 
 " Can you dispute it? Can any knight or gentleman 
 gainsay it? " 
 
 " Then," quoth the Bastard, gruffly, and throwing 
 his axe to the ground, " by all the saints in the cal- 
 endar! 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 show 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- 
 
 * The prize was a collar of gold, enamelled with the flower 
 of the souvenance.
 
 3i8 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 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 honor near the Lord Rivers. And the actor was 
 contented, perforce, to become a spectator of the en- 
 suing 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. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 HOW THE BASTARD OF BURGUNDY PROSPERED MORE IN 
 
 HIS POLICY THAN WITH THE POLE-AXE AND HOW 
 
 KING EDWARD HOLDS HIS SUMMER CHASE IN THE 
 FAIR GROVES OF SHENE 
 
 It was some days after the celebrated encounter 
 between the Bastard and Lord Scales, and the court 
 had removed to the Palace of Shene. 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 mean while, the arts of Warwick's enemies 
 had been attended with signal success. The final prep- 
 arations for the alliance, now virtually 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 Edward's own
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 319 
 
 authority for stating that his first grudge against War- 
 wick originated in this displeasing 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 conceive that Lord Warwick 
 was led into any absolute connection with Louis which 
 could link him to the Lancastrians, for this was against 
 common sense; but Edward, with all his good-humour, 
 was implacable and vindictive, and he could not en- 
 dure the thought that Warwick should gain the friend- 
 ship of the man he deemed his foe. Putting aside his 
 causes of hatred to Louis, in the encouragement which 
 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 nick- 
 name 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 XI. 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 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 interest, to
 
 320 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 associate himself heart in hand with the arms of Eng- 
 land 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 connec- 
 tion with Burgundy, he could not but reluctantly allow 
 that Warwick urged those of a still larger and wiser 
 policy, when showing 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 enemies sought to stamp upon it. As the wis- 
 dom of every man, however able, can but run through 
 those channels which are formed by the soil of the 
 character, so Edward, with all his talents, never pos- 
 sessed the prudence which fear of consequences in- 
 spires. 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 unceasing 
 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 interests. 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
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 321 
 
 haughty nature to be aware that he would throw up 
 the reins of government the moment he knew that 
 Edward has discredited and dishonoured his embassy; 
 and, despite the suspicions they sought to instil into 
 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 impotent and to leave 
 him only the fallen minister, not the mighty rebel. 
 
 Edward had been thus easily induced to permit 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 
 was to take place, the friendship of Burgundy was 
 worth much to maintain. But De la Roche, soon 
 made aware, by the Duchess of Bedford, of the ground 
 on which he stood, and instructed 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 sub- 
 missive, 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 
 VOL. I. 21
 
 322 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 power. Though Edward was not Diogenes, he loved 
 the popular sunshine, and no Alexander now stood 
 between him and its beams. Deceived by the repre- 
 sentations of his 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 acknowledging 
 it even to himself, into the very object of the woman- 
 kind 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 acquires, and no king 
 so easily as one like Edward IV., 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 
 presumption! And so saying to himself, he dismissed 
 the very thought of the absent earl, and glided un- 
 consciously down the current of the hour. And yet, 
 notwithstanding all these prepossessions and disposi- 
 tions, Edward might no doubt have deferred, at least, 
 the meditated breach with his great minister 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 his- 
 tory mentions, it seems to forget, in the consequences 
 it ever engenders the habit of intemperance. Un- 
 questionably, 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
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 323 
 
 entangle himself far more than in his cooler moments 
 he would have been disposed to do. 
 
 Having thus admitted our readers into those re- 
 cesses of that cor inscrutabile 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, 
 numberless 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 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, looking for the quarry, which horn 
 and hound drove fast and frequent across the alleys. 
 Such was the luxurious " summer-chase " of the Sar- 
 danapalus 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 modern age!
 
 324 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 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 excep- 
 tions to the contentment of the general company. 
 
 A courier had arrived that morning to apprise Ed- 
 ward of the unexpected debarkation of the Earl of 
 Warwick, with the Archbishop of Narbonne and the 
 Bastard of Bourbon, the ambassadors commissioned 
 by Louis to settle the preliminaries 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 the news to his able favourite. 
 " 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 short- 
 ened his stirrups, " shall be obeyed. I foresaw, sire, 
 that this coming would occasion much that my Lords 
 Rivers and Worcester have overlooked. 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
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 325 
 
 on the fitting excuses to be made to King Louis's am- 
 bassadors? " 
 
 " And so lose the fairest day this summer hath be- 
 stowed 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 re- 
 monstrance would be in vain, and hoping much from 
 the intercession of Gloucester, put spurs to his steed, 
 and vanished. Edward mused a moment; and Eliza- 
 beth, 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 speaking to her lord, 
 the queen said, softly, 
 
 " Something hath disturbed my liege and my life's 
 life." 
 
 " Marry, yes, sweet Bessee. Last night, to pleasure 
 thee and thy kin (and sooth to say, small gratitude ye 
 owe me, for it also pleased myself), I promised Mar- 
 garet'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 
 scare; and" glancing his eye proudly round as he 
 spoke, and saw the goodly cavalcade of his peers and
 
 326 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 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 England and his subject, never an hour 
 more ripe than this; my throne assured the new 
 nobility I have raised, around it London true, mar- 
 row 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, gallantly 
 bending over his saddle-bow, and the next moment 
 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 betrayed itself to the court or 
 to her husband, she soon composed her countenance 
 to its ordinary smooth and artificial smile, and re- 
 joining her mother, 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 new's soon travelled. 
 
 " Anthony," whispered the father, " in this game 
 we have staked our heads." 
 
 " But our right hands can guard them well, sir," 
 answered Anthony; "and so God and the ladies for 
 our rights! " 
 
 Yet this bold reply did not satisfy the more thought-
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 327 
 
 ful 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 ab- 
 stracted! his son's laugh was hollow and constrained; 
 the queen, from her pavilion, cast, ever and anon, down 
 the green alleys more restless and prying looks than 
 the hare or the deer could call forth; 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 courte- 
 ously into 'the accommodation of each group, linger- 
 ing, smiling, complimenting, watching, heeding, study- 
 ing, those whom he addressed. For the first time 
 since the Bastard's visit, he had joined in the diver- 
 sions 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 feel- 
 ings 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 he could not fail to 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 despatched to him 
 the news of the Bastard's visit, its real object, and 
 the inevitable success 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 despatched to the king had arrived
 
 328 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 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 un- 
 grateful 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 noiseless 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, and bring pride to 
 my aid, but in vain ; and, now, whether you will scorn 
 my suit or not, I remember, Sibyll O Sibyll! I re- 
 member 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, 
 Sibyll. Nay, do not frown on me. I know thou art 
 fair and winsome, and deftly gifted, and they father 
 may, for aught I know, be able to coin thee a queen's 
 dower out of his awsome engines. But Hastings will 
 not wed thee, and his wooing, therefore, but stains 
 thy fair repute; while I "
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 329 
 
 " You ! " said Montagu, entering suddenly 1 " 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 perfectly 
 in character with the great lords, who frequently wooed 
 in very peremptory tones for their clients and kins- 
 men,* completed the displeasure which the blunt Mar- 
 maduke had already called forth in Sibyll's gentle but 
 proud nature. " Speak, maiden, ay or no? " continued 
 Montagu, surprised and angered at the haughty silence 
 of one whom he just knew by sight and name, though 
 he had never before addressed her. 
 
 " No, my lord," answered Sibyll, 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 kinsnian 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, Marma- 
 duke," 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. 
 
 * See, in Miss Strickland's " Life of Elizabeth Woodville," 
 the curious letters which the Duke of York and the Earl of 
 Warwick addressed to her, then a simple maiden, in favour of 
 their protege, Sir R. Johnes.
 
 330 
 
 Montagu looked at him in surprise. " Wives, sir," 
 he said, " are not made to look at, unless, indeed, 
 they be the wives of other men. But dismiss 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 thou wilt pass by yonder arbour 
 ask them, in my name, to be near the pavilion while 
 the king banquets. A word in thine ear ere yon 
 sun gilds the top 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 Sibyll, went his way. 
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 THE GREAT ACTOR RETURNS TO FILL 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 uni- 
 versal. 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 LAST OF THE BARONS 331 
 
 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. 
 
 " 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 
 wassail 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 evef 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 brother of Burgundy shall 
 have eno' 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, sneeringly, 
 " usually dresses his face by that of his king." 
 
 " A subject! Ay, but Warwick is much such a sub- 
 ject to England as William of Normandy or Duke 
 Rollo was to France. Howbeit, let him come our 
 realm is at peace we want no more his battle-axe;
 
 332 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 and in our new designs on France, thy brother, bold 
 count, is an ally that might compensate for a greater 
 loss than a sullen minister. 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 a 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, coming half 
 way up the thigh, were sullied with the dust of the 
 journey; and yet as he entered, before the majesty 
 of his mien, the grandeur of his stature, suddenly 
 De la Roche, Rivers, even the 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 sov- 
 ereignty, 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 succeeded 
 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
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 333 
 
 Roche, who, after vainly striving not to quail beneath 
 the gaze, finally smiled with affected disdain, 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 respect, 
 " I crave pardon for presenting myself to your high- 
 ness thus travel-worn and disordered, but I announce 
 that news which insures my welcome. The solemn 
 embassy of trust committed to me by your grace has 
 prospered with God's blessing; and the Fils de Bour- 
 bon 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 crown. Your claims on Normandy and Guienne, 
 King Louis consents to submit to the arbitrement of 
 the Roman Pontiff,* and to pay to your treasury an- 
 nual tribute ; these advantages, greater than your high- 
 ness even empowered me to demand, thus obtained, 
 the royal brother of your new ally joyfully awaits the 
 hand of the Lady Margaret." 
 
 " Cousin," said Edward, who had thoroughly re- 
 covered himself, 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 comrades, 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 
 
 * The Pope, moreover, was to be engaged to decide the 
 question within four years. A more brilliant treaty for Eng- 
 land Edward's ambassador could not have effected.
 
 334 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 hath been done nobly; and this truth has ceased to be 
 matter of council, since the meanest citizen who hath 
 ears arid eyes, ere this, must know for what purpose 
 the ambassadors of King Louis arrive in England with 
 your highness'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 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 Narbonne, that if he desire 
 to see a fairer show than even the palaces of West- 
 minster and the Tower, he will hasten back to behold 
 the banners of Burgundy 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 ex- 
 cuse 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 for- 
 eigner." 
 
 " And the brother of the heir of Burgundy," inter- 
 rupted De la Roche " brother to the betrothed and 
 princely spouse of Margaret of England." 
 
 " Doth this man lie, sire?" said Warwick, who had 
 seated himself a moment, and who now rose again. 
 
 The Bastard sprung also to his feet, but Edward,
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 335 
 
 waving him back, and reassuming the external dignity 
 which rarely forsook him, replied, " Cousin, thy ques- 
 tion lacketh courtesy to our noble guest: since thy 
 departure, reasons of state, which 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 jug- 
 gling me, delegated as the representative of thy roy- 
 alty! Lord Rivers, stand back there are barriers 
 eno' between truth and a king! " 
 
 "By St. George and my father's head!" cried Ed- 
 ward, with a rage no less fierce than 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 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, " ye come in time.
 
 336 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 George of Clarence, Lord High Constable of England 
 arrest yon naughty man, who dares to menace his 
 liege and suzerain ! " 
 
 Gliding between Clarence, who stood dumb and 
 thunder-stricken, 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 
 Teuton, and forbear Warwick, 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, showed him how 
 much his intemperate anger had thrown away his ad- 
 vantages in the foul wrong he had sustained from Ed- 
 ward. Meanwhile the king himself, with flashing eyes, 
 and a crest as high as Warwick's, was about, perhaps, 
 to overthrow his throne by the attempt to enforce his 
 threat, when Anthony Woodville, who followed Clar- 
 ence, whispered 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. Be- 
 ware ! " and Richard's quick ear catching these whis- 
 pered words, the duk.e suddenly backed them by again 
 drawing aside the curtain of the tent. Along the 
 sward, the guard of the king summoned from their un- 
 seen 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 
 rrhirmured 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
 
 King! there is not a hair on this head which thy whole 
 house could dare to touch."
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 337 
 
 them, than supposing, in their ignorance, the scene 
 thus given to them was intended for their gratification, 
 from that old soldiery of Teuton rose a loud and long 
 " Hurrah Warwick and the king " " The king and 
 the stout earl." The mutitude behind caught the cry ; 
 they rushed forward, mingling 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. 
 
 De la Roche grew pale, but with the promptness 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 na- 
 ture, 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 approach- 
 ing Edward (who remained erect, and with all a sov- 
 ereign'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." 
 VOL. I. 22
 
 338 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 " Barest them gainsay it ? " exclaimed De la Roche. 
 
 " Interrupt me not, sir ! " continued Warwick, with 
 a disdainful gesture. " My liege, I lay down mine 
 offices, and I leave it to your grace to account 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 unat- 
 tended, 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 Ed- 
 ward IV. 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 war- 
 rior," 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 me if I of- 
 fended, but had you, at such a time, resolved on vio- 
 lence " 
 
 " I see it all you were right. But is this to be en- 
 dured for ever ? "
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 339 
 
 " Sire," returned Richard, with his dark smile, " rest 
 calm ; for the age is your best ally, and the age is out- 
 growing 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 quar- 
 rel with her rather about the dowry. What, ho, there ! 
 let the jongleurs perform." 
 
 " The jongleurs ! " exclaimed the king; " why, Rich- 
 ard, 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!" 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 HOW THE GREAT LORDS COME TO THE KING-MAKER, 
 AND WITH WHAT PROFFERS 
 
 Mastering the emotions that swelled within him, 
 Lord Warwick returned, with his wonted cheerful 
 courtesy, the welcome of the crowd, and the enthu- 
 siastic 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 War- 
 wick's face was hueless as he said, with a forced smile 
 " It is nothing, Walter. But these heats are oppres-
 
 340 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 sive, 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 
 daintiest hippocras." So saying, he flung himself from 
 his steed ; following the sound of the rivulet, 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 com- 
 mands but thine." 
 
 " Thou knowest not, poor youth, that I can serve 
 thee no more. Go back to the court." 
 
 " Oh, Warwick," said Marmaduke, with simple elo- 
 quence, " 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, methinks, 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 kinsman'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, " have they told thee 
 already that I am disgraced ? " 
 
 " I heard the Lord Scales say to the young Lovell, 
 that thou wert dismissed from all thine offices ; and I 
 came hither; for I will serve no more the king who
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 341 
 
 forgets the arm and heart to which he owes a king- 
 dom." 
 
 " Man, I accept thy loyalty ! " exclaimed Warwick, 
 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 moment a 
 troop of knights and gentlemen, comprising the flower 
 of such of the ancient nobility as yet lingered round 
 the court, came up to Warwick, bareheaded. 
 
 " Is it possible," cried Raoul de Fulke, " that we 
 have heard aright, noble earl? And has Edward IV. 
 suffered the base Woodvilles to triumph over the bul- 
 wark of his realm ? " 
 
 " Knights and gentles ! " said Warwick, with a bit- 
 ter smile, " is it so uncommon a thing that men in 
 peace should leave the battle-axe and brand to rust? 
 I am but a useless weapon, to be suspended at rest 
 amongst the trophies of Teuton in my hall of Middle- 
 ham." 
 
 " 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. He is punished eno' in the choice he
 
 342 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 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 XL! 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 de- 
 ceives us not ; and in disgrace to you, the ancient bar- 
 ons of England behold the first blow at their own 
 state. We have wrongs we endured in silence, while 
 thou wert 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 dow- 
 ered forced into disreputable and base wedlock, with 
 creatures dressed in titles, and gilded with wealth 
 stolen from ourselves. 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 Ed- 
 ward Earl of March hath been permitted with im- 
 punity to do. We, sir earl we knights and barons 
 ivould a king simple in his manhood, and princely in 
 his truth. 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 representative 
 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!"
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 343 
 
 " 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 with feelings it is 
 scarcely possible in our times to sympathise 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 con- 
 dition of men like us, THE BARONS who make and un- 
 make kings. What ! who of us would not rather de- 
 scend from the chiefs of Runnymede than from the 
 royal craven whom they 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. A king a beggar 
 to the nation, wrangling with his parliament for gold ! 
 A king! Richard II. was a king, and Lancaster de- 
 throned 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 quar- 
 rel with his wife's chamberlains and lavourers.f 
 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, 
 
 * By the female side, through Joan Beaufort, or Plantagenet, 
 Warwick was third in descent from John of Gaunt, as Henry 
 VII., through the male line, was fourth in descent. 
 
 f Laundresses. The Parliamentary Rolls, in the reign of 
 Henry IV., abound in curious specimens of the interference of 
 the Commons with the household of Henry's wife, Queen Joan.
 
 344 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 and Nevile, lord of a hundred baronies, leader of sixty 
 thousand followers is not greater than Edward of 
 March, to whom we will deign still, with your permis- 
 sion, to vouchsafe the name and pageant of a king? " 
 
 This extraordinary address, strange to say, so thor- 
 oughly expressed the peculiar pride of the old barons, 
 that when it ceased a sound of admiration and ap- 
 plause circled through that haughty audience, 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 Middle- 
 ham, 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 dishonour. Sirs, our 
 honour is in our bosoms, and there, is the only 
 throne armies cannot shake, nor cozeners under- 
 mine." 
 
 With these words he gently waved his hand, mo- 
 tioned 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 Marma- 
 duke, who was on foot, and bade him follow him to 
 London that night. " I have strange tidings to tell 
 the French envoys, and for England's sake I must 
 soothe their anger, if I can, then to Middleham." 
 
 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 Shakespeare hath painted with
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 345 
 
 such contempt, gathering, laughing and loud, around 
 the mountebank and the conjuror, who had already 
 replaced in their thoughts (as Gloucester had fore- 
 seen) the hero-idol of their worship.
 
 BOOK V 
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS IN HIS FATHER'S 
 HALLS 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 RURAL ENGLAND IN THE MIDDLE AGES NOBLE VISIT- 
 ORS SEEK THE CASTLE OF MIDDLEHAM 
 
 Autumn had succeeded to summer winter to au- 
 tumn 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 de- 
 cline of day. Different, indeed, from the aspect which 
 that part of the country now presents was the land- 
 scape 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 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, sallow, elm, and 
 plumtree. Not one could boast a chimney; but the 
 smoke from the single fire in each, after duly darken- 
 ing 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 
 
 346
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 347 
 
 poses." * Neither did one of these habitations boast 
 the comfort of a glazed window, the substitute being 
 lattice, or chequer-work even in the house of the 
 franklin, which rose statelily above the rest, encom- 
 passed with barns and outsheds. And yet greatly 
 should we err did we conceive that these deficiencies 
 were an index to the general condition of the work- 
 ing-class. Far better off was the labourer, when em- 
 ployed, than now. Wages were enormously high, 
 meat extremely low ; f and our mother-land bounti- 
 fully maintained her children. 
 
 On that greensward, before the village (now foul 
 and reeking with the squalid population, whom com- 
 merce rears up the victims, as the movers of the 
 modern world) were assembled youth and age; for it 
 was a holiday evening, and the stern Puritan had not 
 yet risen to sour the face of Mirth. Well clad in 
 leathern jerkin, or even broadcloth, the young peas- 
 ants 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 cavalcade. From a gentle eminence be- 
 yond the village, and half veiled by trees, on which the 
 first verdure of spring was budding (where now, 
 
 * 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 
 hardening 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 ac- 
 quainted." 
 
 t See Hallam's " Middle Ages," chap, xx., Part II. So also 
 Hollinshed, Book XL, 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 ! "
 
 348 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 around the gin-shop gather the fierce and sickly chil- 
 dren 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 fre- 
 quent 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 wood- 
 land, interspersed with strips of pasture, upon which 
 numerous flocks were grazing, with horses, as yet un- 
 broken to bit and selle, that neighed and snorted as they 
 caught scent of their more civilised brethren pacing up 
 the road. 
 
 In front of the cavalcade rode two, evidently of su- 
 perior 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 absence 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 according to our modern notions of what 
 beseems the church as can well be conceived : his tunic 
 and surcoat, of a rich amber, contrasted well with the 
 clear darkness of his complexion ; his piked shoes or 
 beakers, as they were called, turned up 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 gentlemen, whose golden spurs announced 
 knighthood ; and then followed a long train of squires
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 349 
 
 and pages, richly clad and accoutred, bearing gener- 
 ally 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 cognisance. 
 
 " Nay, sweet prince," said the ecclesiastic, " I pray 
 thee to consider that a greyhound is far more of a gen- 
 tleman 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 gentleman is to know no fear, and 
 to rush through all danger at the throat of his 
 foe ; wherefore I uphold the dignity of the mastiff 
 above all his tribe, though others have a daintier hide, 
 and a statelier crest. Enough of such matters, arch- 
 bishop we are nearing Middleham." 
 
 " The saints be praised ! for I am hungered," ob- 
 served 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 
 eno' of the blessings he might enjoy, and many a poor 
 abbot hath daintier fair on his humble table." 
 
 " Oh, George Nevile ! who that heard thee, when thou 
 talkest of hounds and interments,* would recognise 
 the Lord Chancellor of England the most learned dig- 
 nitary the most subtle statesman ? " 
 
 " And oh, Richard Plantagenet ! " retorted the arch- 
 bishop, dropping the mincing and affected tone, which 
 he in common with the coxcombs of that day usually 
 assumed, " who that heard thee, when thou talkest of 
 * Interments, entremets (side dishes).
 
 350 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 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, gnawing his 
 lip " or I should not say wrongs, but flatters ; for 
 sternness and ambition are no vices in a Nevile's eyes." 
 
 " Fairly answered, royal son," said the archbishop, 
 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 disturbed ; the intrigues 
 of Margaret of Anjou are restless; the king reaps 
 what he has sown in the Court of France, and, as War- 
 wick 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 loved 
 by Clarence, and that I would fain see removed all bar- 
 rier to his nuptial bliss. But yonder rise the towers of 
 Middleham. Beloved walls, which sheltered my child- 
 hood ! and, by holy Paul, a noble pile, which would re- 
 sist an army, or hold one." 
 
 While thus conversed the prince and the archbishop, 
 the Earl of Warwick, musing and alone, slowly paced 
 the lofty terrace that crested the battlements of his 
 outer fortifications.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 351 
 
 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 forbidden. 
 
 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 Charlemagne or Rollo. The sports 
 that had pleased the leisure of his earlier youth were 
 tedious and flat to one snatched from so mighty a ca- 
 reer. His hound lay idle at his feet, his falcon took 
 holiday on the perch, his jester was banished to the 
 page's table. Behold the repose of this great unlet- 
 tered spirit! But while his mind was thus debarred 
 from its native sphere, all tended to pamper Lord War- 
 wick'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 re- 
 nowned knights, gathered to his hall. Middleham, not 
 Windsor, nor Shene, nor Westminster, nor the Tower, 
 seemed the COURT OF ENGLAND. As the Last of the 
 Barons paced his terrace, far as his eye could reach his 
 broad domains extended, studded with villages, and 
 towns, and castles, swarming with his retainers. 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.
 
 352 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 " And is the river of my life," muttered Warwick, 
 " 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 ! " 
 
 Wrapped 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 sweet temper 
 and pure thought had preserved to matronly beauty all 
 the bloom of youth, looked up smilingly to his own. 
 
 " My lord my Richard," said the countess, " why 
 didst thou steal so churlishly from me? Hath there, 
 alas ! come a time when thou deemest 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'amie, 
 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," con- 
 tinued Warwick, with a tenderness of voice and man- 
 ner that strangers might have marvelled at, forgetting 
 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, m'amie, nothing in life has 
 ever been so fair to me, as those days when we stood 
 hand in hand on its threshold, and talked, boy-bride- 
 groom and child-bride as we were, of the morrow that 
 lay beyond."
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 353 
 
 " Ah, Richard, even in those days thy ambition 
 sometimes vexed my woman vanity, and showed me 
 that I could never be all in all to so large a heart ! " 
 
 " Ambition ! No, thou mistakest Montagu is am- 
 bitious, 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 
 Nevile's, 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 insatiate and limitless, if 
 thou sawest a male heir to thy greatness ; and God, per- 
 haps, 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 Beau- 
 champ and the Nevile into new houses ; thy glory, in- 
 deed, an eternal heirloom, but only to thy land thy 
 lordships and thy wealth melting into the dowry of a 
 daughter." 
 
 " At least, no king hath daughters so dowried," an- 
 swered 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 loyalty 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. * 
 VOL. I. 23
 
 354 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 " A pest upon that learning it sicklies and 
 womanises 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 calcu- 
 lations and scruples. His brother forbids his marriage 
 with any English donzell, for Edward dares not spe- 
 cialise what alone he dreads. His letters burn with love, 
 and his actions freeze with doubts. It was not thus I 
 loved thee, sweetheart. By all the saints in the calen- 
 dar, had Henry V. 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 en- 
 treaties, my father's grandchild should not have waited 
 thus long the coming of so hesitating a wooer. But lo, 
 our darlings ! Anne hath thine eyes, tn'amie; and she 
 groweth more into my heart every day, since daily she 
 more favours thee." 
 
 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 happier 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 and conscious modesty to the shy but ten-
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 355 
 
 der 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 ? " said 
 the 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 down- 
 cast eyes. " What brings ye hither, whom I left so 
 lately deep engaged in the loom, upon the helmet of 
 Goliath, with my burgonot 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 cognisance," whis- 
 pered Anne, " and our own Nevile Bull. Perchance 
 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
 
 356 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 must honour it, for it is our own. We will go forth 
 and meet our guests your hand, countess." 
 
 And gravely and silently, and in deep but no longer 
 gloomy thought, Warwick descended from the terrace, 
 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 ! 
 
 CHAPTER 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 re- 
 luctantly 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 III.*), 
 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 
 shared 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, 
 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 
 * The late Duke of York.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 357 
 
 weaken his own position, and the power of his house 
 was essential to all his views. The object of Glouces- 
 ter in his intercession was less defined, but not less per- 
 sonal : 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 affec- 
 tion, might have really loved his early playmate, even 
 while his ambition calculated the wealth of 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 Edward ; 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 beseeches me to return to his councils, I 
 will not be sullen enough to hold back ; but, oh, Prince 
 Richard! is it indeed a matter past all consideration, 
 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 helmet, I withheld 
 my countenance from the Bastard's presence. I in- 
 curred Edward's anger by refusing to attend his court 
 while the Count de la Roche was his guest. And there- 
 fore you may trust me when I say now that Edward, 
 
 * Majerus, the Flemish chronicler, quoted by Bucke (Life 
 of Richard III.), mentions the early attachment of Richard 
 to Anne. They were much together, as children, at Middle- 
 ham.
 
 358 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 after promises, however rash, most solemn and bind- 
 ing, is dishonoured for ever if he break off the con- 
 tract. 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 Bur- 
 gundy's diadem. Thou knowest his warlike 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 com- 
 mercial ally. Wherefore 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, observing 
 how much Warwick was touched and softened, " that 
 in returning to the helm of state, our gracious king 
 permits me to say, that, save only in the alliance with 
 Burgundy, which toucheth 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 Ed- 
 ward can convince me that it is for the good of Eng- 
 land that his sister should wed with mine ancient 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 prepared 
 for a conciliation so facile, for neither quite understood
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 359 
 
 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 ex- 
 tremes, is not contented with anything short of fiery 
 aggression or trustful 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 chamber, 
 the young prince said to himself, musingly : 
 
 " Does ambition besot and blind men ? or can War- 
 wick 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 at- 
 tendance as the prince unrobed. " A noble castle this," 
 said the duke, " and one in the midst of a warlike popu- 
 lation 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 Salisbury 
 (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, unsus- 
 piciously, " the Lady Isabel seems to me the taller and 
 the statelier." 
 
 " When man's merit and woman's beauty are meas- 
 ured by the ell, Catesby, Anne will certainly be less 
 fair than Isabel, and Richard a dolt compared to Clar- 
 ence. Open the casement my dressing-robe good 
 'night to you ! "
 
 36o THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 THE SISTERS 
 
 The next morning, at an hour when modern beauty 
 falls into its first sickly sleep, Isabel and Anne con- 
 versed 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, were en- 
 gaged in those martial sports which, falling elsewhere 
 into disuse, the Last of the Barons kinglily maintained. 
 There, boys of fourteen, on their small horses, ran 
 against each other with blunted lances. There, those 
 of more advanced adolescence, each following the other 
 in a circle, rode at the ring; sometimes (at the word of 
 command from an old knight who had fought at Agin- 
 court, 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 
 sat 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 en- 
 tering to supply the mighty larder ; and at a smaller pos- 
 tern, a dark crowd of mendicant friars, and the more 
 destitute poor, waited for the daily crumbs from the rich
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 361 
 
 man's table. What need of a poor-law then ! the baron 
 and the abbot made the parish ! But not on these evi- 
 dences 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 ! " 
 
 " Yet when I think of it, Isabel, are we sure 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 whispered to 
 thee so softly by the oriel window ? " 
 
 " Surely, yes ! " said Anne, simply. " Was not Rich- 
 ard 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 the conversation that the noise- 
 less step of Richard himself neared the spot, and hear- 
 ing 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 misbeseems his princely birth ? " 
 
 " I know not, but there is no youth in his eye and in
 
 362 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 his heart. Even as a child he had the hard will and 
 the cold craft of grey hairs. Pray St. Mary 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 ? " 
 
 " Pray for thee 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 opposite direction 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 War- 
 wick? Not Richard of Gloucester? if so, pardon my 
 foolish tongue." 
 
 " No, not Richard though I feel kindly towards 
 him, and his sweet voice soothes me when I listen 
 not Richard. Ask no more."
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 363 
 
 " 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 sus- 
 piciously ; " 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 ef- 
 fort, suppressed her tears, and, taking her sister's 
 hand, said in a voice of touching solemnity " Prom- 
 ise, then, that the secret shall be ever holy ; and, since 
 I know that it will move thine anger, perhaps 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 shadow of a 
 long row of venerable oaks, placed themselves 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 were left in the pal- 
 ace 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 Sibyll ; 
 and Prince Edward, Henry's son, stealing from the
 
 364 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 rest, sought me out ; and we sat 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 children 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 children often feel more deeply 
 than later years can weet of." 
 
 " My sister, this is indeed a wilful invention of sor- 
 row for thine own scourge. Why, ere this, believe 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 out- 
 grown 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 re- 
 members thee! " 
 
 " And that picture was Prince Edward's ? " 
 
 Anne blushed, and her bosom heaved beneath the
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 365 
 
 slender and high-laced gorget. After a pause, looking 
 round her, she drew forth a small miniature, which 
 lay on the heart that beat thus sadly, and placed it in 
 her sister's hands. 
 
 " You see 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 limner; full of the fire and energy which charac- 
 terised the countenance of the mother, but with a tinge 
 of the same profound and inexpressible melancholy 
 that gave its charm to the pensive features of Henry 
 VI. a face, indeed, to fascinate a young eye, even if 
 not associated with such remembrances 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 incurred 
 your anger by compassion for the adherents of Lan- 
 caster; and for this, also, Richard of Gloucester 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 
 1 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 ar-
 
 366 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 rive when the son of Henry of Windsor may return to 
 his native land, not as sovereign, but as Duke of Lan- 
 caster, and thy hand may reconcile him to the loss of a 
 crown." 
 
 " 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 occa- 
 sioned 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 archbishop, seemingly in earnest con- 
 versation, appeared at the end of the terrace. The sis- 
 ters 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 de- 
 mure reluctance. 
 
 " Fair brother," said the archbishop, " I would that 
 Gloucester were to have my stately niece instead of the 
 gaudy Clarence." 
 
 "Wherefore?"
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 367 
 
 " Because he can protect those he loves, and Clar- 
 ence will ever need a protector." 
 
 " I like George not the less for that," said Warwick, 
 " 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 ser- 
 vant!" 
 
 " 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 I 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 media- 
 tor in all our quarrels. But not so hath it been de- 
 creed." 
 
 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 re- 
 flective tone, " the boy is to me a riddle. That 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 Edward's wantonness and 
 Richard's sanctimony; and he who in the heyday 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 Montagu ; 
 he seems to have been mighty cold to his brother's
 
 368 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 wrongs ever at the court ever sleek with Villein and 
 Woodville." 
 
 " But the better to watch thy interests ; I so coun- 
 selled him." 
 
 " A priest's counsel ! Hate frankly or love freely is 
 a knight's and soldier's motto. A murrain on all 
 double-dealing ! " 
 
 The archbishop shrugged his shoulders, and applied 
 to his nostrils 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 hitherto regarded Richard 
 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 pene- 
 tration, 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.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 369 
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 THE DESTRIER 
 
 It was three days afterwards that the earl, as, ac- 
 cording 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 Gloucester 
 were thy betrothed ! " 
 
 Anne started, and with more vivacity than usually 
 belonged to her, exclaimed, " Oh 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. Rich- 
 ard gives promise of an illustrious manhood; but, 
 Anne, thou growest so like thy mother, that whenever 
 my pride seeks to see thee great, my 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, Glou- 
 cester and Isabel joined them. 
 VOL. I. 24
 
 370 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 " My fair cousin," said the duke, " hath promised 
 to show me thy renowned steed, Saladin ; and since, on 
 quitting thy halls, I go to my apprenticeship 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 Warwick'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 victory more 
 than wavered, thou, dismounting, didst slay thy steed 
 with thine own hand, and kissing 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 flight 
 forbid was Malech's death-dirge ! It is a wondrous 
 race that of Malech and his son Saladin [continued 
 the earl, smiling]. When my ancestor, 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 
 
 * " Every Palm Sunday, the day on which the battle of 
 Touton 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." Roberts's " York and Lancaster," vol. i. p. 429.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 371 
 
 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 be- 
 came 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 cru- 
 sader'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 been duly mut- 
 tered. Their beauty, speed, art, and fierceness, were 
 a marvel. And Aymer, unsuspecting, 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 for- 
 get his morning 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 a while beheld him soli- 
 tary 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 to
 
 372 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 be 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 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 powerless 
 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 sanc- 
 timony, 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 or- 
 dered 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 " so 
 mare and horse were brought by Aymer's squires to his
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 373 
 
 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 
 Infidel'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, 
 4 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 Mon- 
 thermer and Montagu, and Salisbury's famous earl- 
 dom ; 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 great 
 thy master ! " 
 
 * 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 
 Montacute.
 
 374 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 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 
 limpid drink, and in a gilded manger the finest wheaten 
 bread was mingled with the oats of Flanders. On en- 
 tering, 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 be- 
 strode! 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 exceeding 
 smallness of its head, its broad frontal, the remarkable 
 and almost human intelligence of its eye, seemed act- 
 ually to elevate its conformation above that of its 
 species. Though the race had increased, generation 
 after generation, in size and strength, Prince Richard 
 still marvelled (when, obedient to a sign from War- 
 wick, 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 clean- 
 ness, 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
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 375 
 
 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 
 stung him. 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 trembled, even 
 before he heard the earl's stern rebuke. 
 
 " Young magpies chatter, boy young eagles in si- 
 lence measure the space between the eyrie and the 
 sun ! " 
 
 The boy hung; his head, and would have slunk off, 
 but Richard detailed 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 foe- 
 man's ranks, thou shalt comprehend what thy uncle de- 
 signed 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 something 
 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
 
 376 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 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 ! at times, yes, over much ; 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 ! " 
 
 " 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 factions of the court. Un- 
 happily 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
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 377 
 
 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." 
 
 " 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 wel- 
 comed 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 extract 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, Mon- 
 thermer, and Nevile, the Boar of Gloucester shall liege 
 it over their broad baronies and hardy vassals."
 
 BOOK VI 
 
 HEREIN 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, 
 DEMAGOGUY, AND SCIENCE ALL EQUALLY 
 OFFSPRING OF THE SAME PROLIFIC DELU- 
 SIONVIZ., THAT MEAN SOULS (THE EARTH'S 
 MAJORITY) ARE WORTH THE HOPE AND THE 
 AGONY OF NOBLE SOULS, THE EVERLASTING- 
 LY SUFFERING AND ASPIRING FEW 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 NEW DISSENSIONS 
 
 We must pass over some months. Warwick and his 
 family had returned to London, and the meeting be- 
 tween Edward and the earl had been cordial and af- 
 fectionate. Warwick was reinstated in the offices 
 which gave him apparently the supreme rule in Eng- 
 land. 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 par- 
 liament was addressed, and troops were raised for that 
 impolitic purpose.* To this war, however, Warwick 
 
 * " Parliamentary Rolls," 623. The fact in the text has been 
 neglected by most historians. 
 
 378
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 379 
 
 was inflexibly opposed. He pointed out the madness of 
 withdrawing from England all her best affected chiv- 
 alry, at a time when the adherents of Lancaster, still 
 powerful, would require no happier occasion to raise 
 the Red Rose banner. He showed how hollow was the 
 hope of steady aid from the hot, but reckless and un- 
 principled Duke of Burgundy, and how different now 
 was the condition of France under a king of consum- 
 mate sagacity, and with an overflowing treasury, to its 
 distracted state in the former conquests of the English. 
 This opposition to the king's will gave every opportu- 
 nity for Warwick's enemies to renew their old accusa- 
 tion of secret and treasonable amity with Louis. Al- 
 though 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 intemperate resentment, by 
 public attendance on the ceremonials that accompanied 
 the betrothal of the princess, it was impossible for Ed- 
 ward 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 in- 
 vasion of France, a second and more deadly breach be- 
 tween Edward and his minister must have yawned, had 
 not events suddenly and unexpectedly proved the wis- 
 dom of Warwick's distrust of Burgundy. Louis XI. 
 bought off the Duke of Bretagne, patched up a peace 
 with Charles the Bold, 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 occa- 
 sioned between Edward and the earl were not removed 
 with the cause; and, under pretence of guarding 
 * W. Wyr, 518.
 
 38o THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 against hostilities from Louis, the king requested War- 
 wick to depart to his government of Calais, the most 
 important and honourable post, it is true, which a sub- 
 ject could then hold: but Warwick considered the re- 
 quest as a pretext for his removal from the court. A 
 yet more irritating and insulting cause of offence was 
 found in Edward's withholding his consent to Clar- 
 ence's often-urged demand for permission to wed with 
 the Lady Isabel. It is true that this refusal was ac- 
 companied with the most courteous protestations of re- 
 spect 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 impera- 
 tively demands, that my brothers should strengthen 
 my rule, by connections 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 any scantiness in the dower. Weary me 
 no more, George. Fiat voluntas meal" 
 
 But the motives assigned were not those which in- 
 fluenced 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, unprincipled, and vain. Ed- 
 ward'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
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 381 
 
 for Edward's obstinacy, was yet more resentful 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 Clar- 
 ence, who, with all his errors, possessed every super- 
 ficial attraction that graced his house ; gallant and 
 handsome, 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 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 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 acuteness 
 and sagacity would have the more served both, inas- 
 much 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 ob- 
 ject 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 Middle- 
 ham, and where his extraordinary military talents 
 found their first brilliant opening, and he was there- 
 fore absent from London during all the disgusts he 
 might have removed, and the intrigues he might have 
 frustrated. 
 
 But the interests of the House of Warwick, during
 
 382 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 the earl's sullen and indignant sojourn at his govern- 
 ment of Calais, were not committed to unskilful hands ; 
 and Montagu and the archbishop 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. 
 
 " I have sought you," said Montagu, with more than 
 usual care upon his brow " I have sought you in con- 
 sequence of an event that may lead to issues of no small 
 moment, whether for good or evil. Clarence has sud- 
 denly 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 himself." 
 
 " 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 my- 
 self 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 woman-craft I call 
 the spider, and soldier-pride I style the wasp. To speak 
 plainly, these Woodvilles must be bravely breasted and 
 determinately abashed. I do not mean that we can 
 deal with the king's wife and her family as with any 
 other foes ; but we must convince them that they cannot
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 383 
 
 cope with us, and that their interests will best consist 
 in acquiescing to that condition 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 
 an 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 counterpoise 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 Warwick must be as one. This is not 
 all ! If our sole aid was in giddy George, we should 
 but buttress our house with a weathercock. This con- 
 nection is but as a part of the grand scheme on which 
 I have set my heart Clarence shall wed Isabel, 
 Gloucester wed Anne, and (let thy ambitious heart beat 
 high, Montagu) the king's eldest daughter shall wed 
 thy son the male representative of our triple honours. 
 Ah, thine eyes sparkle now ! Thus the whole royalty of 
 England shall centre in the Houses o* 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 
 betrothed to the son of Montagu, the nephew of War- 
 wick ? Clarence, beloved by the shallow commons ; * 
 Gloucester, adored both by the army and the church; 
 and Montagu and Warwick, the two great captains of 
 the age is not this a combination of power, that may 
 defy Fate?" 
 
 * Singular as it may seem to those who know not that 
 popularity 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. Croyl., 562.
 
 384 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 " 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 
 kingdoms. And now, seest thou why with to-morrow's 
 sun I depart for Calais, and lend my voice in aid of 
 Clarence's, for the first knot in this complicated bond ? " 
 
 " But, will Warwick consent while the king opposes? 
 Will his pride " 
 
 " His pride serves us here ; for, so long as Clarence 
 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 for 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 Glouces- 
 ter returns all will be smooth again smooth for the 
 second and more important nuptials and the second 
 shall preface the third; meanwhile, you return to the
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 385 
 
 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, thus 
 detailed, the prelate 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 consent of its chief, nor would the 
 earl, in all probability, 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 marry- 
 ing 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 show that there lives 
 no man whose threats I have not the heart to defy ! " 
 And the prelate, rinding 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 archbishop 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 lux- 
 ury 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 emi- 
 VOL. L 25
 
 386 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 nently popular, and his government, though stern, 
 suited to the times ; for then the presiding influence was 
 that of Lord Warwick. As the queen's counsels pre- 
 vailed over the consummate 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 au- 
 thority was weakened; and while Edward was feast- 
 ing at Shene, and Warwick absent at Calais, the prov- 
 inces were exposed to all the abuses which most gall 
 a population. The poor complained that undue ex~ 
 actions were made on them by the hospitals, abbeys, 
 and barons; the church complained that the queen's 
 relations had seized and spent church moneys ; the men 
 of birth and merit complained of the advancement of 
 new men who had done no service ; and all these sev- 
 eral discontents fastened themselves upon the odious 
 Woodvilles, as the cause of all. The second breach, 
 now notorious, between the king and the all-beloved 
 Warwick, was a new aggravation of the popular hatred 
 to the queen's family, and seemed to give occasion 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.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 387 
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 THE WOULD-BE IMPROVERS OF JOVE'S FOOT-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 cham- 
 ber door, and a man dressed in the black gown of a stu- 
 dent 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 in- 
 truder a few moments, his face brightened up into 
 recognition. 
 
 "En iterum!" he said. "Again, bold Robin Hil- 
 yard, 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 ! " 
 
 " 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 ? " 
 
 " Well-a-day," said poor Adam, " you know little 
 what I have undergone. For danger to myself by rack 
 and gibbet I say nought. Man's body is fair prey to 
 cruelty, and what a king spares to-day the worm shall 
 gnaw to-morrow. But mine invention my Eureka 
 look ! " and stepping aside, he lifted a cloth, and ex- 
 hibited the mangled remains of the unhappy model.
 
 388 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 " I am forbid to restore it," continued Adam, dole- 
 fully. " 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, doubtingly and eagerly " thou, with 
 thy plots and stratagem, and active demagoguy, 
 thinkest thou that thou hast changed the world, or ex- 
 tracted one drop of evil out of the mixture of gall and 
 hyssop which man is born to drink ? " 
 
 Hilyard was silent, and the two world-betterers 
 the philosopher and the demagogue gazed on each 
 other, half in sympathy, half in contempt. At last 
 Robin said 
 
 " Mine old friend, hope sustains us both ; and in the 
 wilderness we yet behold the Pisgah ! But to my busi- 
 ness. 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, bit- 
 terly, " 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, ar- 
 resting his progress, said, crossing himself, and in a
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 389 
 
 subdued and fearful whisper, " Is not that Friar Bun- 
 gey, the notable magician ? " 
 
 " Magician or not," answered Warner, with a lip of 
 inexpressible contempt and a heavy sigh, " God par- 
 don his mother for giving birth to such a numbskull ! " 
 and with this pious and charitable ejaculation Adam 
 disappeared in the adjoining chamber, appropriated to 
 the friar. 
 
 " Hum," soliloquized Hilvard, " they say that Friar 
 Bungey is employed by the witch duchess in everlast- 
 ing 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 aper- 
 ture made by the sliding panel. An enormous stuffed 
 lizard hung from the ceiling, and various strange rep- 
 tiles, 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 sapentes." 
 
 " Sapientes, brother," groaned Adam. 
 
 " That's the old form, Adam," quoth the friar, su- 
 perciliously " sapentes is the last improvement. I 
 say, between wise men there is no envy. Our noble and 
 puissant patroness, the Duchess of Bedford, hath com- 
 mitted to me a task that promiseth much profit. I have 
 worked at it night and day stotis filibus." 
 
 " O, man, what lingo speakest thou ? stotis filibus! " 
 
 " Tush, if it is not good Latin, it does as well, son 
 Adam. I say I have worked at it night and day, and it
 
 390 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 is now advanced eno' for experiment. But thou art 
 going to sleep." 
 
 " Despatch speak out speak on ! " said Adam, des- 
 perately " what is thy achievement ? " 
 
 " See! " answered the friar, majestically; and draw- 
 ing 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 countenance of the Earl of Warwick. 
 
 " There," said the friar, complacently, and rubbing 
 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 some- 
 what ghastly." 
 
 " Ho, ho ! " quoth the friar, laughing so as to show 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 representeth, will feel 
 through his bones and marrow waste wax, waste 
 man ! " 
 
 " Thou art a devil to do this thing, and a blockhead 
 to think it, O miserable friar ! " exclaimed Adam, 
 roused from all his gentleness. 
 
 " 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 Mount Pepanon, at the tail of a 
 mad nightmare. I will put aches in all thy bones, and
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 391 
 
 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, was 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 hid- 
 ing-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 quiet re- 
 tort; 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 thee that bring shame on science," 
 answered Adam, sternly ; " and I will not listen to thee 
 longer." 
 
 " Nay, but you must," said the friar, clutching
 
 392 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 Adam's robe, and concealing his resentment by an af- 
 fected grin. : ' Thou thinkest me a mere ignoramus 
 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 ignorance. 
 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. 
 
 " 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 a 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 the philosopher 
 was soon re-immersed in the fiery interest of his thank- 
 less labours. 
 
 It might be an hour afterwards, when, wearied and 
 exhausted by perpetual hope and perpetual disappoint- 
 ment, he flung himself on his seat ; and that deep sad- 
 ness, which they who devote themselves in this noisy 
 world to wisdom and to truth alone can know suf-
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 393 
 
 fused 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 the ropes of sand, and my 
 name shall be writ in water. 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 civilise the 
 round globe. And now my lodging is a palace roy- 
 alty my patron they give me gold at my desire 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 
 inventor, a creator, a true magician protected, patron- 
 ised, 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 chamber 
 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 excite-
 
 394 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 ment gave way to the body's weakness, 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 Ava- 
 rice, 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, Sibyll. 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 
 Sibyll, and she looked anxiously in his face, as she 
 wiped the dews from his forehead. 
 
 " Yes air air ! " repeated Adam, rising. 
 
 Sibyll placed his bonnet over his silvered locks, drew 
 his gown more closely round him, and slowly, and in 
 silence, they 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 vessels that 
 glided over the sparkling river, while the dark walls 
 of Baynard's Castle, the adjoining bulwark and bat- 
 tlements 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
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 395 
 
 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, Sibyll, 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 senti- 
 ment within it could escape into words. 
 
 Sibyll 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 things 
 some abstract but glorious object to worship 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 illusion." 
 
 "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 Sibyll, her dark and deep eyes suffused with 
 tears. "Doth not the heart create invent? Doth it 
 not dream? Doth it not form its idol out of air? 
 Goeth it not forth into the future, to prophesy to itself ?
 
 396 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 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." 
 
 " Sibyll," 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," said 
 Adam, curiously stroking down the rich, smooth stuff 
 of Sibyll'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 desolate, ruined 
 home was not safe for thine old age." 
 
 " I would we could escape, Sibyll," said Adam, earn- 
 estly, in a whisper, and with a kind of innocent cun- 
 ning in his eye, " we and the poor Eureka ! This 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 Sibyll, turning 
 pale, " let him not know a word of what we would 
 propose, nor whither we would fly." 
 
 " Child, he loves me, or why does he seek me so 
 often, and sit and talk not? " 
 
 Sibyll pressed her clasped hands tightly to her 
 bosom, but made no answer ; and, while she was sum-
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 397 
 
 moning courage to say something that seemed to op- 
 press 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 paused, and gazed at 
 Sibyll, at first haughtily; and then, as the deep sad- 
 ness 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, courteously 
 
 " Fair mistress, canst thou prefer this solitary scene 
 to the gay company about to take the air in her grace's 
 gilded barge ? " 
 
 Sibyll looked up in surprise, not unmixed with fear. 
 Never before had the great lady spoken to her thus 
 gently. Adam, who seemed for a while restored to 
 the 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 parent's side ! " 
 
 The answer touched the Lady of Bonville, and in- 
 voluntarily she extended her hand to Sibyll. With a 
 swelling heart, Sibyll, as proud as herself, bent silently 
 over that rival's hand. Katherine's marble cheek col- 
 oured, 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 War- 
 wick's sister can serve thee, prithee bid thy young 
 maiden impart it, as to a friend." 
 
 " Tell her, then, my Sibyll tell Lord Warwick's 
 sister, to ask the king to give back to Adam Warner
 
 398 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 his poverty, his labour, and his hope," said the scholar, 
 and his noble head sank gloomily on his bosom. 
 
 The Lady of Bonville, still holding Sibyll's hand, 
 drew her a few paces up the walk, and then she said 
 suddenly, and with some of that blunt frankness 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 emboldened 
 
 " Maiden, thou mayst 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 followed 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, 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 un- 
 worthy triflings with man's conscience and a knight's 
 bright faith. But mark me! the heart of Hastings 
 is everlastingly mine, and mine alone! What seek I 
 in this confidence? To warn thee. Wherefore? Be- 
 cause 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 unscathed. And therefore Kath-
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 399 
 
 erine of Bonville may be the friend of Sibyll War- 
 ner." 
 
 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 Sibyll ; 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 dishonour, 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 cer- 
 tainly was, when Sibyll, drawing her hand from Kath- 
 erine's clasp, stopping short, and calmly folding her 
 arms upon her bosom, said 
 
 " 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 he offered me his hand, I would reject it, if I 
 were not convinced that the heart " 
 
 " Damsel/' interrupted the Lady Bonville, 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, be- 
 ware ! " 
 
 " I knew not," replied Sibyll, bitterly, " that Sibyll 
 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 com- 
 passion and friendly interest she had before felt, " my
 
 400 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 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. 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 WHEREIN THE DEMAGOGUE SEEKS THE COURTIER 
 
 On quitting Adam's chamber, Hilyard paused not 
 till he reached a stately house, not far from Warwick 
 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 arch- 
 bishop, the other from Warwick. In these epistles 
 were two passages, strangely contradictory in 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 pretext 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." 
 
 On the other hand, thus wrote the prelate : 
 
 " 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 Nevile, aided by old Sir John
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 401 
 
 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 mes- 
 sages from the north country, craved an audience. 
 Imagining that these messages would tend to illustrate 
 the communications just received, he ordered the visi- 
 tor to be admitted. 
 
 He scarcely noticed Hilyard on his entrance, and 
 said, abruptly, " Speak shortly, friend I have but lit- 
 tle 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." 
 
 " 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 gallows." 
 
 " The tree is not planted," said Robin, carelessly, 
 " 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 in- 
 terruption nor the angry gesture of Montagu), "a 
 tyrant who at this moment meditates the destruction 
 of the house of Nevile. And not contented with this 
 VOL. I. 26
 
 402 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 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 exaggeration, 
 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, naming the 
 Duchess of Bedford as his employer. Montagu lis- 
 tened 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 Hilyard 
 had concluded ; " and yet this story, if thou wilt ad- 
 here 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 de- 
 nounce our foe, and, with thine evidence, we will de- 
 mand 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,
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 403 
 
 I will ; but it shall not be 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 ? " 
 
 " That as it may be but first for justice to the peo- 
 ple ; 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 de- 
 mand?" 
 
 " 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 shows 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, maintained 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 Mon- 
 tagu. 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 thon 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 bane- 
 ful domination of the queen's family ; and demand the 
 banishment of the Woodvilles, root and stem." 
 
 " Hem ! " said Montagu, involuntarily glancing over 
 the archbishop's letter, " hem, but without outrage 
 to the king's state and person ? "
 
 404 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 " Oh, trust me, my lord, the franklin's head con- 
 tains as much north-country cunning as the noble's. 
 They who would speed well, must feel their way cau- 
 tiously." 
 
 " 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 St. George, a tall man, and well knit, with 
 dareiment on 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." 
 
 " 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 ? "
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 405 
 
 '"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 ourselves. And the 
 hour will come, believe me, when Lord Warwick, pur- 
 sued 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 
 harlots." 
 
 Without saying another word, he turned and quitted 
 the chamber as abruptly as he had entered. 
 
 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 something 
 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 understood he aided not, but he 
 connived : " Twenty thousand men in arms," he mut- 
 tered to himself " say half well, ten thousand not 
 against Edward, but the Woodvilles! It must bring 
 the king to nis 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 are undisciplined multitudes 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."
 
 406 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 SIBYLL 
 
 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 War- 
 wick, encroached on all the good things power can 
 bestow and avarice seize while the Duchess of Bed- 
 ford 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. Where- 
 fore is Sibyll sad? Some short month 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 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 LAST OF THE BARONS 407 
 
 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 x 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 Longueville, 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; for the old 
 Lancastrian detested the Lady Bonville, as Lord War- 
 wick's sister, and she would have reconciled her pride 
 to view with complacency his alliance with the alche- 
 mist'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 Sibyll's heart, and when 
 she witnessed for Hastings often encountered (and 
 seemed to seek the encounter) the young maid at 
 Lady Longueville's house the unconcealed admiration 
 which justified Sibyll in her high-placed affection, she 
 scrupled not to encourage the blushing girl, by predic- 
 tions in which she forced her own better judgment to 
 believe. Nor, when she learned Sibyll's descent from 
 a family that had once ranked as high as that of Has- 
 tings, would she allow that there was any disparity in 
 the alliance she foretold. But more, far more than 
 Lady Longueville's assurances, did the delicate and 
 unceasing gallantries of Hastings himself flatter the 
 fond faith of Sibyll. True, that he spoke not actually 
 of love, but every look implied, every whisper seemed
 
 408 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 to betray it. And to her he spoke as to an equal, not 
 in birth alone, but in mind; so superior was she in 
 culture, in natural gifts, and, above all, in that train 
 of high thought, and elevated sentiment, in which 
 genius ever finds a sympathy, to the court-flutterers of 
 her sex, that Hastings, whether or not he cherished a 
 warmer feeling, might well take pleasure in her con- 
 verse, 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 Sibyll, 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, pardieu, 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 de- 
 sertion, 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 Bon- 
 ville what makes her countenance change in my pres- 
 ence, and her voice sharpen at my accost, is plainly 
 this: in wedding her dull lord, and rejecting me, 
 Katherine Nevile deemed she wedded power, and rank, 
 and station ; and now, while we are both young, how 
 proves her choice ? The Lord of Harrington and Bon-
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 409 
 
 ville 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 de 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 be- 
 trayed, Sibyll 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, Sibyll beheld 
 there a fund of such generous, pure, and noble affec- 
 tion 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 with this rival a memory 
 rather, so she thought, than a corporeal being; and 
 her eye grew brighter, her step statelier, in the excite- 
 ment of the contest the anticipation of the triumph. 
 For, what diamond without its flaw ? What rose with- 
 out its canker? And bedded deep in that exquisite 
 and charming nature, lay the dangerous and fatal 
 weakness which has cursed so many victims, broken 
 so many hearts the vanity of the sex. We may now 
 readily conceive how little predisposed was Sibyll to
 
 410 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 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 ques- 
 tion" Why was Sibyll sad ? " 
 
 The reader may determine for himself what were 
 the ruling motives of Lord Hastings in the court he 
 paid to Sibyll. 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 fore- 
 thought of the future, and reconciling itself to much 
 cruelty, by that profound contempt for human beings, 
 man, and still more for woman, 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 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 Sibyll, once begun, constantly 
 renewed, by degrees wilder, and warmer, and guiltier 
 emotions, roused up in the universal and all-conquer- 
 ing lover the vice of his softer nature. When calm 
 and unimpassioned his conscience had said to him 
 " Thou shalt 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 de- 
 scribed with Katherine, Sibyll's 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
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 411 
 
 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 shown 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 profaning 
 clasp, as escaping to the threshold, she cast on the un- 
 worthy 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 Sibyll 
 sad! 
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 KATHERINE 
 
 For several days Hastings avoided Sibyll ; 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 pas- 
 sion ; 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 an- 
 other votary of the gentil Dieu, while his imagination 
 devoted itself to the chaste and distant ideal the spir- 
 itual Laura his senses, ever vagrant and disengaged, 
 settled, without scruple, upon the thousand Cynthias
 
 412 THE LAST OF THE .BARONS 
 
 of the minute. But then, those Cynthias were, for the 
 most part, and especially of late years, easy and light- 
 won nymphs ; their coyest were of another clay from 
 the tender but lofty Sibyll. And Hastings shrunk 
 from the cold-blooded and deliberate seduction of one 
 so pure, while he could not reconcile his mind to con- 
 template 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 recoiled. 
 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 him- 
 self. The Lord Bonville was of infirm health ; he had 
 been more than once near to death's door, and Has- 
 tings, in every succeeding fancy that beguiled his path, 
 recalled the thrill of his heart, when it had whispered, 
 " Katherine, 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 absence 
 from Sibyll, this wayward and singular personage, who 
 was never weak, but to women, and ever weak to them, 
 felt that she had made herself far dearer to him than 
 he had at first supposed it possible. He missed that 
 face, ever, till the last interview, so confiding in the 
 unconsciously betrayed affection. He felt how su- 
 perior in sweetness, and yet in intellect, Sibyll was to 
 Katherine; there was more in common between her 
 mind and his in all things, save one. But oh, that one
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 413 
 
 exception! what a world lies within it the memory 
 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 fresh- 
 ness, and mind, and heart, and a living shape of beauty, 
 under the name of Sibyll. 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 im- 
 mortal, until, indeed, it be possessed ! 
 
 It might be, perhaps, with a resolute desire to con- 
 quer the new love and confirm the old, that Hastings, 
 one morning, repaired to the house of the Lady Bon- 
 ville, 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 at- 
 tached a foot-board that served as a dais, while around 
 her, on low stools, sate some spinning, others broid- 
 ering some ten or twelve young maidens of good 
 family, sent to receive their nurturing 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 un- 
 der 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, 
 
 * 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. 
 
 t 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 could play at " cardis and dyce." (See Strutt's
 
 4H THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 the solemn silence of this female circle, but little ac- 
 corded with the mood of the graceful visitor. The 
 demoiselles 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. 
 
 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 prevent 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, con- 
 strained, 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?" 
 
 " Games and Pastimes," Hone's edition, p. 327.) The legis- 
 lature was very anxious to keep these games sacred to the 
 aristocracy, and very wroth with 'prentices and the vulgar for 
 imitating the ruinous amusements of their betters.
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 41$ 
 
 That peculiar and exquisite blush, which at moments 
 changed the whole physiognomy of Katherine, flitted 
 across her smooth cheek, and vanished. She said, 
 gravely 
 
 " So much do I allow it in you, my lord, that hence 
 my question." 
 
 " Katherine ! " exclaimed Hastings, in a voice of ten- 
 der reproach, and attempting to seize her hand, forget- 
 ful 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 s'urprise. Humbled 
 and deeply displeased, she rose from the awful chair, 
 and then, as suddenly reseating 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 for- 
 gets the form of language and respect of bearing which 
 a noblewoman of repute is accustomed to consider 
 seemly." 
 
 Hastings bit his lip, and his falcon eye shot indig- 
 nant fire. " Pardon, my Lady of Bonville and Har- 
 rington, 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 business, in truth, was 
 rather with my lord, whose counsel in peace is as 
 famous as his truncheon in 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." 
 
 " Woman, without one soft woman-feeling ! " mut- 
 tered Hastings, between his ground teeth, as he ap-
 
 416 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 preached the lady and made his profound obeisance. 
 The words were intended only for Katherine's ear, and 
 they reached it. Her bosom swelled beneath the bro- 
 caded gorget, and when the door closed on Hastings, 
 she pressed her hands convulsively together, and her 
 dark eyes were raised upward. 
 
 " 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 ! " 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 JOY FOR ADAM, AND HOPE FOR SIBYLL AND POPULAR 
 FRIAR BUNGEY! 
 
 Leaping on his palfrey, Hastings rode back to the 
 Tower dismounted at the gate passed on to the lit- 
 tle 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 thee ? " 
 
 " 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." He 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."
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 417 
 
 " Is that all ? So be it. I will speak to his 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 Sibyll, 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 donzelle ; leave not the desert 
 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 will 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 dan- 
 gerous lover was sincere. So from that hour peace was 
 renewed between Sibyll and Lord Hastings. Fatal 
 peace ! alas for the girl who loves and has no mother ! 
 
 True to his word, the courtier braved the displeasure 
 of the Duchess of Bedford, in inducing the king to con- 
 sider 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 appeared and explained his device. 
 But these practical men at first ridiculed the notion as 
 VOL. I. 27
 
 418 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 a madman's fancy, and it required all the art of Has- 
 tings to overcome their contempt, and appeal to the na- 
 tive acuteness of the king. Edward, however, was only 
 caught by Adam's incidental allusions to the applica- 
 tion of his principle to ships. The merchant-king sud- 
 denly 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 every saint in 
 the calendar speed thee! Master Heyford, tell thy 
 comely wife that I and Hastings will sup with her to- 
 morrow, for her hippocras is a rare dainty. Good day 
 to you, worshipful my masters. Hastings, come hither 
 enough of these trifles I must confer with thee on 
 matters really pressing this damnable marriage of 
 gentle George's ! " 
 
 And now Adam Warner was restored to his native 
 element 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 permission he had 
 gained ; for the London deputies, on their return home, 
 talked of nothing else for a whole week, but the favour 
 the king had shown to a strange man, half-maniac, 
 half-conjuror, who had undertaken to devise a some- 
 thing which would throw all the artisans and journey- 
 men out of work! From merchant to mechanic trav- 
 elled 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
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 4'9 
 
 popular indignation ; and these prejudices were skil- 
 fully 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, was by no means 
 of despicable abilities in the arts of imposing upon 
 men. In his youth he had been an itinerant mounte- 
 bank, 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 mod- 
 ern necromancers. He could clothe a wall with seem- 
 ing vines, that vanished as you approached; he could 
 conjure up in his quiet cell the likeness of a castle 
 manned with soldiers, or a forest tenanted by deer.* 
 Besides these illusions, probably produced by more 
 powerful magic lanterns than are now used, the friar 
 had stumbled upon the wondrous effects of animal 
 magnetism, which was then unconsciously practised by 
 the alchemists or 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 previous history, and present cir- 
 cumstances, enabled his natural shrewdness to hit the 
 mark, at least now and then, in his oracular predic- 
 tions. He 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 serpent-witch, Melusina. Moreover, and in this 
 the friar especially valued himself, Bungey had, in the 
 course of his hardy, vagrant early life, studied, as shep- 
 herds and mariners do now, the signs of the weather ; 
 
 * 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 Litera- 
 ture." Art., Dreams at the Dawn of Philosophy.
 
 420 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 and as weather-glasses were then unknown, nothing 
 could be more convenient to the royal planners of a 
 summer chase or a hawking company, than the neigh- 
 bourhood of a skilful predictor of storm and sunshine. 
 In fact, there was no part in the lore of magic which 
 the popular seers found so useful and studied so much 
 as that which enabled them to prognosticate the hu- 
 mours of the sky, at a period when the lives of all men 
 were principally spent in the open air. 
 
 The Fame of Friar Bungey 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 tales 
 he had heard of the Duchess Jacquetta's dread ma- 
 gician. 
 
 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 hostelries 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 mean- 
 est mechanic who crossed his broad horn palm. A 
 vulgar man is never unpopular with the vulgar. More- 
 over, the friar, who was a very cunning person, wished 
 to keep well with the mob : he was fond of his own im- 
 pudent, cheating, burly carcase, and had the prudence 
 to foresee that a time might come when his royal pa- 
 trons might forsake him, and a mob might be a terrible 
 monster to meet in his path ; therefore he always 
 affected to love the poor, often told their fortunes gratis, 
 now and then gave them something to drink, and was
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 421 
 
 esteemed a man exceedingly 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 
 shown to Adam by the king, and the marvellous results 
 expected from his contrivance. His envy, then, for- 
 bade all tolerance and mercy ; the world was not large 
 enough to contain two such giants Bungey and War- 
 ner the genius and the quack. To the best of our ex- 
 perience, 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 cov- 
 eted 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 re- 
 . paired, and in his possession, he could do what he 
 knew not but certainly all that was wanting to com- 
 plete 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, Sibyll once more smiled 
 gratefully upon Hastings, from whom the rapture 
 came.
 
 422 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 A LOVE SCENE 
 
 More than ever chafed against Katherine, H? stings 
 surrendered himself, without reserve, to the ch;.rm he 
 found in the society of Sibyll. Her confidence being 
 again restored, again her mind showed itself to advan- 
 tage, 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 overcomes 
 the effort, while it increases the desire, to shine, that 
 the union of love and timidity has been called in- 
 separable, in the hackneyed language of every love- 
 tale. But this is no invariable rule, as Shakespeare has 
 shown us in the artless Miranda, in the eloquent Juliet, 
 in the frank and healthful Rosalind ; and the love of 
 Sibyll was no common girl's spring-fever of sighs and 
 blushes. It lay in the mind, the imagination, the in- 
 telligence, 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 sentiment, and covert play 
 of innocent wit should not contrast forcibly, in the 
 mind of a man who had the want to be amused and in- 
 terested, with the cold pride of Katherine, the dull 
 atmosphere in which her stiff, unbending virtue, 
 breathed unintellectual air, and still more with the 
 dressed puppets, with painted cheeks and barren talk,
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 423 
 
 who filled up the common world, under the name of 
 women. 
 
 His feelings for Sibyll, 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 intrust his happiness; and so pure was 
 Sibyll'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 imagination into 
 which the senses are absorbed, and by the ideal purifica- 
 tion elevated up to spirit. Wrapped in the exquisite 
 happiness she now enjoyed, Sibyll perceived not, or, if 
 perceiving, scarcely heeded 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 imputed 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 Sibyll 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. 
 
 " And whither go you thus alone, fair mistress ? " 
 
 " The duchess bade me seek the queen, who is taking
 
 424 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 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 comparing thee 
 to others, who dwell in the world's high places; and 
 marvelling at the whims of fortune." 
 
 Sibyll smiled faintly, and answered, " Provoke not 
 too much the aspiring folly of my nature. Content is 
 better than ambition." 
 
 " 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," con- 
 tinued Sibyll, colouring, fearful that she had betrayed 
 herself, " for example, that so long as my father toils 
 for fame, I breathe 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 Sibyll, coyly. 
 
 " But if thou wert wedded to sorrow, and poverty, 
 and troublous care, thine ambition, thus struck dead, 
 would of consequence strike dead thy love ? " 
 
 " Nay, noble lord, nay canst thou so wrong woman- 
 hood in me unworthy? for surely true ambition lives 
 not only in the goods of fortune. Is there no nobler 
 ambition than that of the vanity? Is there no ambi- 
 tion of the heart? an ambition to console, to cheer 
 the griefs of those who love and trust us? an ambi- 
 tion 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
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 425 
 
 serenity its cares? Oh, methinks a woman's true am- 
 bition would rise the bravest when, in the very sight of 
 death itself, the 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 which 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 origi- 
 nal heroism of the listener's nature, before debased into 
 the cynic sourness of worldly wisdom. Never had 
 Katherine herself more forcibly recalled to Hastings 
 the pure and virgin glory of his youth. 
 
 " Oh, Sibyll ! " 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 ex- 
 celled by the one triumph of waking such an ambition 
 in such a heart ! " 
 
 Sibyll stood before him transformed pale, trem- 
 bling, mute and Hastings, clasping her hand and cov- 
 ering it with kisses, said 
 
 " Dare I arede thy silence ? Sibyll, thou lovest me ! 
 Oh, Sibyll, 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 do I ! 
 But a? 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 gen- 
 erous impulse, and grinned in scorn of his folly. 
 
 But Sibyll heard only that one holy word of WIFE,
 
 426 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 
 
 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, 
 Sibyll said, ingenuously 
 
 " Oh, my lord oh, Hastings ! if thy calmer reason 
 repent not these words if thou canst approve 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, draw- 
 ing loftily up her light stature, " no, thou shalt not 
 find me 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 dangers, 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 ! " 
 
 " 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 captain 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
 
 THE LAST OF THE BARONS 427 
 
 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 feel- 
 ing of reprieve. " Farewell, dear Sibyll, farewell 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 barracks of 
 a modern soldiery, and before which, on the other side 
 of the moat, lay a space that had seemed solitary and 
 deserted; but, as Hastings, in speaking his adieu, hur- 
 riedly pressed his lips on Sibyll's forehead from a 
 tavern 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 
 women 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 Sibyll, and a shudder came 
 over her when she beheld the tinsel robes of the tym- 
 besteres 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! "
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY, LOS ANGELES 
 
 COLLEGE LIBRARY 
 
 This book is due on the last date stamped below. 
 
 Book Slip-35m-9,'62(D221884)4280
 
 UCLA-College Library 
 
 PR 4913 A1 1902 v.1 
 
 L 005 722 114 5 
 
 Colleg 
 Librar 
 
 PR 
 
 Al 
 
 1902 
 
 v.l 
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACIUTY