by Walter Scott
CHAPTER XV.
Toll, toll the bell! Greatness is o'er, The heart has broke, To ache no more; An unsubstantial pageant all-- Drop o'er the scene the funeral pall. _Old Poem._
The commotion and shrieks of fear and amazement which were excitedamong the ladies of the court by an event so singular and shocking,had begun to abate, and the sighs, more serious though less intrusive,of the few English attendants of the deceased Queen began to be heard,together with the groans of old King Rene, whose emotions were asacute as they were shortlived. The leeches had held a busy butunavailing consultation, and the body that was once a queen's wasdelivered to the Priest of St. Sauveur, that beautiful church in whichthe spoils of Pagan temples have contributed to fill up themagnificence of the Christian edifice. The stately pile was dulylighted up, and the funeral provided with such splendour as Aix couldsupply. The Queen's papers being examined, it was found that Margaret,by disposing of jewels and living at small expense, had realised themeans of making a decent provision for life for her very few Englishattendants. Her diamond necklace, described in her last will as inthe hands of an English merchant named John Philipson, or his son, orthe price thereof, if by them sold or pledged, she left to the saidJohn Philipson and his son Arthur Philipson, with a view to theprosecution of the design which they had been destined to advance, or,if that should prove impossible, to their own use and profit. Thecharge of her funeral rites was wholly intrusted to Arthur, calledPhilipson, with a request that they should be conducted entirely afterthe forms observed in England. This trust was expressed in an additionto her will, signed the very day on which she died.
Arthur lost no time in despatching Thiebault express to his father,with a letter explaining, in such terms as he knew would beunderstood, the tenor of all that had happened since he came to Aix,and, above all, the death of Queen Margaret.
Finally, he requested directions for his motions, since the necessarydelay occupied by the obsequies of a person of such eminent rank mustdetain him at Aix till he should receive them.
The old King sustained the shock of his daughter's death so easily,that on the second day after the event he was engaged in arranging apompous procession for the funeral, and composing an elegy, to be sungto a tune also of his own composing, in honour of the deceased Queen,who was likened to the goddesses of heathen mythology, and to Judith,Deborah, and all the other holy women, not to mention the saints ofthe Christian dispensation. It cannot be concealed that, when thefirst burst of grief was over, King Rene could not help feeling thatMargaret's death cut a political knot which he might have otherwisefound it difficult to untie, and permitted him to take open part withhis grandson, so far indeed as to afford him a considerable share ofthe contents of the Provencal treasury, which amounted to no largersum than ten thousand crowns. Ferrand having received the blessing ofhis grandfather, in a form which his affairs rendered most importantto him, returned to the resolutes whom he commanded; and with him,after a most loving farewell to Arthur, went the stout butsimple-minded young Swiss, Sigismund Biederman.
The little court of Aix were left to their mourning. King Rene, forwhom ceremonial and show, whether of a joyful or melancholy character,was always matter of importance, would willingly have bestowed onsolemnising the obsequies of his daughter Margaret what remained ofhis revenue, but was prevented from doing so, partly by remonstrancesfrom his ministers, partly by the obstacles opposed by the youngEnglishman, who, acting upon the presumed will of the dead, interferedto prevent any such fantastic exhibitions being produced at theobsequies of the Queen as had disgusted her during her life.
The funeral, therefore, after many days had been spent in publicprayers and acts of devotion, was solemnised with the mournfulmagnificence due to the birth of the deceased, and with which theChurch of Rome so well knows how to affect at once the eye, ear, andfeelings.
Amid the various nobles who assisted on the solemn occasion, there wasone who arrived just as the tolling of the great bells of St. Sauveurhad announced that the procession was already on its way to thecathedral. The stranger hastily exchanged his travelling-dress for asuit of deep mourning, which was made after the fashion proper toEngland. So attired, he repaired to the cathedral, where the noblemien of the cavalier imposed such respect on the attendants that hewas permitted to approach close to the side of the bier; and it wasacross the coffin of the Queen for whom he had acted and suffered somuch that the gallant Earl of Oxford exchanged a melancholy glancewith his son. The assistants, especially the English servants ofMargaret, gazed on them both with respect and wonder, and the eldercavalier, in particular, seemed to them no unapt representative of thefaithful subjects of England, paying their last duty at the tomb ofher who had so long swayed the sceptre, if not faultlessly, yet alwayswith a bold and resolved hand.
The last sound of the solemn dirge had died away, and almost all thefuneral attendants had retired, when the father and son still lingeredin mournful silence beside the remains of their sovereign. The clergyat length approached, and intimated they were about to conclude thelast duties, by removing the body, which had been lately occupied andanimated by so haughty and restless a spirit, to the dust, darkness,and silence of the vault where the long-descended Counts of Provenceawaited dissolution. Six priests raised the bier on their shoulders,others bore huge waxen torches before and behind the body, as theycarried it down a private staircase which yawned in the floor to admittheir descent. The last notes of the requiem, in which the churchmenjoined, had died away along the high and fretted arches of thecathedral, the last flash of light which arose from the mouth of thevault had glimmered and disappeared, when the Earl of Oxford, takinghis son by the arm, led him in silence forth into a small cloisteredcourt behind the building, where they found themselves alone. Theywere silent for a few minutes, for both, and particularly the father,were deeply affected. At length the Earl spoke.
"And this, then, is her end," said he. "Here, royal lady, all that wehave planned and pledged life upon falls to pieces with thydissolution! The heart of resolution, the head of policy is gone; andwhat avails it that the limbs of the enterprise still have motion andlife? Alas, Margaret of Anjou! may Heaven reward thy virtues, andabsolve thee from the consequence of thine errors! Both belonged tothy station, and, if thou didst hoist too high a sail in prosperity,never lived there princess who defied more proudly the storms ofadversity, or bore up against them with such dauntless nobility ofdetermination. With this event the drama has closed, and our parts, myson, are ended."
"We bear arms, then, against the infidels, my lord?" said Arthur, witha sigh that was, however, hardly audible.
"Not," answered the Earl, "until I learn that Henry of Richmond, theundoubted heir of the House of Lancaster, has no occasion for myservices. In these jewels, of which you wrote me, so strangely lostand recovered, I may be able to supply him with resources more needfulthan either your services or mine. But I return no more to the camp ofthe Duke of Burgundy; for in him there is no help."
"Can it be possible that the power of so great asovereign has been overthrown in one fatal battle?" said Arthur.
THE FUNERAL OF THE QUEEN. Drawn and Etched by R. de Los Rios.]
"By no means," replied his father. "The loss at Granson was verygreat; but to the strength of Burgundy it is but a scratch on theshoulders of a giant. It is the spirit of Charles himself, his wisdomat least, and his foresight, which have given way under themortification of a defeat by such as he accounted inconsiderableenemies, and expected to have trampled down with a few squadrons ofhis men-at-arms. Then his temper is become froward, peevish, andarbitrary, devoted to those who flatter and, as there is too muchreason to believe, betray him, and suspicious of those counsellors whogive him wholesome advice. Even I have had my share of distrust. Thouknowest I refused to bear arms against our late hosts the Swiss; andhe saw in that no reason for rejecting my attendance on his march. Butsince the defeat of Granson, I have observed a strong and s
uddenchange, owing, perhaps, in some degree to the insinuations ofCampo-basso, and not a little to the injured pride of the Duke, whowas unwilling that an indifferent person in my situation, and thinkingas I do, should witness the disgrace of his arms. He spoke in myhearing of lukewarm friends, cold-blooded neutrals,--of those who, notbeing with him, must be against him. I tell thee, Arthur de Vere, theDuke has said that which touched my honour so nearly, that nothing butthe commands of Queen Margaret, and the interests of the House ofLancaster, could have made me remain in his camp. That is over--Myroyal mistress has no more occasion for my poor services--the Duke canspare no aid to our cause--and if he could, we can no longer disposeof the only bribe which might have induced him to afford us succours.The power of seconding his views on Provence is buried with Margaretof Anjou."
"What, then, is your purpose?" demanded his son.
"I propose," said Oxford, "to wait at the court of King Rene until Ican hear from the Earl of Richmond, as we must still call him. I amaware that banished men are rarely welcome at the court of a foreignprince; but I have been the faithful follower of his daughterMargaret. I only propose to reside in disguise, and desire neithernotice nor maintenance; so methinks King Rene will not refuse topermit me to breathe the air of his dominions, until I learn in whatdirection fortune or duty shall call me."
"Be assured he will not," answered Arthur. "Rene is incapable of abase or ignoble thought; and if he could despise trifles as he detestsdishonour, he might be ranked high in the list of monarchs."
This resolution being adopted, the son presented his father at KingRene's court, whom he privately made acquainted that he was a man ofquality, and a distinguished Lancastrian. The good King would in hisheart have preferred a guest of lighter accomplishments and gayertemper to Oxford, a statesman and a soldier of melancholy and gravehabits. The Earl was conscious of this, and seldom troubled hisbenevolent and light-hearted host with his presence. He had, however,an opportunity of rendering the old King a favour of peculiar value.This was in conducting an important treaty betwixt Rene and Louis XI.of France, his nephew. Upon that crafty monarch Rene finally settledhis principality; for the necessity of extricating his affairs by sucha measure was now apparent even to himself, every thought of favouringCharles of Burgundy in the arrangement having died with QueenMargaret. The policy and wisdom of the English Earl, who was intrustedwith almost the sole charge of this secret and delicate measure, wereof the utmost advantage to good King Rene, who was freed from personaland pecuniary vexations, and enabled to go piping and tabouring to hisgrave. Louis did not fail to propitiate the plenipotentiary, bythrowing out distant hopes of aid to the efforts of the Lancastrianparty in England. A faint and insecure negotiation was entered intoupon the subject; and these affairs, which rendered two journeys toParis necessary on the part of Oxford and his son, in the spring andsummer of the year 1476, occupied them until that year was half spent.
In the meanwhile, the wars of the Duke of Burgundy with the SwissCantons and Count Ferrand of Lorraine continued to rage. Beforemidsummer 1476, Charles had assembled a new army of at least sixtythousand men, supported by one hundred and fifty pieces of cannon, forthe purpose of invading Switzerland, where the warlike mountaineerseasily levied a host of thirty thousand Switzers, now accounted almostinvincible, and called upon their confederates, the Free Cities on theRhine, to support them with a powerful body of cavalry. The firstefforts of Charles were successful. He overran the Pays de Vaud, andrecovered most of the places which he had lost after the defeat atGranson. But instead of attempting to secure a well-defended frontier,or, what would have been still more politic, to achieve a peace uponequitable terms with his redoubtable neighbours, this most obstinateof princes resumed the purpose of penetrating into the recesses of theAlpine mountains, and chastising the mountaineers even within theirown strongholds, though experience might have taught him the danger,nay desperation, of the attempt. Thus the news received by Oxford andhis son, when they returned to Aix in midsummer, was, that DukeCharles had advanced to Morat (or Murten), situated upon a lake of thesame name, at the very entrance of Switzerland. Here report said thatAdrian de Bubenburg, a veteran knight of Berne, commanded, andmaintained the most obstinate defence, in expectation of the reliefwhich his countrymen were hastily assembling.
"Alas, my old brother-in-arms!" said the Earl to his son, on hearingthese tidings, "this town besieged, these assaults repelled, thisvicinity of an enemy's country, this profound lake, these inaccessiblecliffs, threaten a second part of the tragedy of Granson, morecalamitous perhaps than even the former!"
On the last week of June, the capital of Provence was agitated by oneof those unauthorised yet generally received rumours which transmitgreat events with incredible swiftness, as an apple flung from hand tohand by a number of people will pass a given space infinitely fasterthan if borne by the most rapid series of expresses. The reportannounced a second defeat of the Burgundians, in terms so exaggeratedas induced the Earl of Oxford to consider the greater part, if not thewhole, as a fabrication.
