CHAPTER VI.
Some ten or twelve days after the momentous event recorded in our lastchapter, King Edward's royal palace, at Winchester, was thronged at anunusually early hour by many noble knights and barons, bearing on theircountenances symptoms of some new and unexpected excitement; and therewas a dark boding gloom on the now contracted brow and altered featuresof England's king, as, weakened and well-nigh worn out by a lingeringdisease, he reclined on a well-cushioned couch, to receive theeagerly-offered homage of his loyal barons. He, who had been fromearliest youth a warrior, with whose might and dauntless prowess therewas not one, or prince, or noble, or English, or foreigner, couldcompete, whose strength of frame and energy of mind had ever borne himscathless and uninjured through scenes of fatigue, and danger, andblood, and death; whose sword had restored a kingdom to his father--hadstruggled for Palestine and her holy pilgrims--had given Wales toEngland, and again and again prostrated the hopes and energies ofScotland into the dust; even he, this mighty prince, lay prostrate now,unable to conquer or to struggle with disease--disease that attacked theslave, the lowest serf or yeoman of his land, and thus made manifest,how in the sight of that King of kings, from whom both might andweakness come, the prince and peasant are alike--the monarch and theslave!
The disease had been indeed in part subdued, but Edward could not closehis eyes to the fact that he should never again be what he had been;that the strength which had enabled him to do and endure so much, theenergy which had ever led him on to victory, the fire which had so ofteninspired his own heart, and urged on, as by magic power, hisfollowers--that all these were gone from him, and forever. Ambition,indeed, yet burned within, strong, undying, mighty; aye, perhapsmightier than ever, as the power of satisfying that ambition glided fromhis grasp. He had rested, indeed, a brief while, secure in thefulfilment of his darling wish, that every rood of land composing theBritish Isles should be united under him as sole sovereign; he believed,and rejoiced in the belief, that with Wallace all hope or desire ofresistance had departed. His disease had been at its height when Brucedeparted from his court, and disabled him a while from composedlyconsidering how that event would affect his interest in Scotland. As theviolence of the disease subsided, however, he had leisure to contemplateand become anxious. Rumors, some extravagant, some probable, now floatedabout; and the sovereign looked anxiously to the high festival of Easterto bring all his barons around him, and by the absence or presence ofthe suspected, discover at once how far his suspicions and the floatingrumors were correct.
Although the indisposition of the sovereign prevented the feasting,merry-making, and other customary marks of royal munificence, which everattended the solemnization of Easter, yet it did not in any wayinterfere with the bounden duty of every earl and baron, knight andliegeman, and high ecclesiastics of the realm to present themselvesbefore the monarch at such a time; Easter, Whitsuntide, and Christmas,being the seasons when every loyal subject of fit degree appearedattendant on his sovereign, without any summons so to do.
They had been seasons of peculiar interest since the dismemberment ofScotland, for Edward's power was such, that seldom had the peers andother great officers of that land refused the tacit acknowledgment ofEngland's supremacy by their non-appearance. Even in that which wasdeemed the rebellion of Wallace, the highest families, even thecompetitors for the crown, and all the knights and vassals in theirinterest, had swelled the train of the conqueror; but this Easter ten ortwelve great barons and their followers were missing. The nobles hadeagerly and anxiously scanned the countenances of each, and whisperedsuspicions and rumors, which one glance on their monarch's ruffled browconfirmed.
"So ho! my faithful lords and gallant knights," he exclaimed, after thepreliminaries of courtesy between each noble and his sovereign had beenmore hastily than usual performed, speaking in a tone so unusually harshand sarcastic, that the terms "faithful and gallant" seemed used but inmockery; "so ho! these are strange news we hear. Where be my lords ofCarrick, Athol, Lennox, Hay? Where be the knights of Seaton, Somerville,Keith, and very many others we could name? Where be these proud lords, Isay? Are none of ye well informed on these things? I ask ye where bethey? Why are they not here?"
There was a pause, for none dared risk reply. Edward's voice had waxedlouder and louder, his sallow cheek flushed with wrath, and he raisedhimself from his couch, as if irritability of thought had impartedstrength to his frame.
"I ask ye, where be these truant lords? There be some of ye who _can_reply; aye, and by good St. Edward, reply ye shall. Gloucester, my lordof Gloucester, stand forth, I say," he continued, the thunderstormdrawing to that climax which made many tremble, lest its bolt shouldfall on the daring baron who rumor said was implicated in the flight ofthe Bruce, and who now stood, his perfect self-possession and calmnessof mien and feature contrasting well with the fury of his sovereign.
"And darest thou front me with that bold, shameless brow, false traitoras thou art?" continued the king, as, with head erect and arms proudlyfolded in his mantle, Gloucester obeyed the king's impatient summons."Traitor! I call thee traitor! aye, in the presence of thy country'snoblest peers, I charge thee with a traitor's deed; deny it, if thoudarest."
"Tis my sovereign speaks the word, else had it not been spoken withimpunity," returned the noble, proudly and composedly, though his cheekburned and his eye flashed. "Yes, monarch of England, I dare deny thecharge! Gloucester is no traitor!"
"How! dost thou brave me, minion? Darest thou deny the fact, that fromthee, from thy traitorous hand, thy base connivance, Robert of Carrick,warned that we knew his treachery, fled from our power--that 'tis tothee, we owe the pleasant news we have but now received? Hast thou notgiven that rebel Scotland a head, a chief, in this fell traitor, and artthou not part and parcel of his guilt? Darest thou deny that from theehe received intelligence and means of flight? Baron of Gloucester, thoudarest not add the stigma of falsity to thy already dishonored name!"
"Sovereign of England, my gracious liege and honored king," answeredGloucester, still apparently unmoved, and utterly regardless of thedanger in which he stood, "dishonor is not further removed from thyroyal name than it is from Gloucester's. I bear no stain of eitherfalsity or treachery; that which thou hast laid to my charge regardingthe Earl of Carrick, I shrink not, care not to acknowledge; yet, Edwardof England, I am no traitor!"
"Ha! thou specious orator, reconcile the two an thou canst! Thou art ascholar of deep research and eloquence profound we have heard. Speak on,then, in heaven's name!" He flung himself back on his cushions as hespoke, for, despite his wrath, his suspicions, there was that in thecalm, chivalric bearing of the earl that appealed not in vain to one whohad so long been the soul of chivalry himself.
The tone in which his sovereign spoke was softened, though his wordswere bitter, and Gloucester at once relaxed from his proud and coldreserve; kneeling before him, he spoke with fervor and impassionedtruth--
"Condemn me not unheard, my gracious sovereign," he said. "I speak notto a harsh and despotic king, who brings his faithful subjects to theblock at the first whisper of evil or misguided conduct cast to theircharge; were Edward such Gloucester would speak not, hope not forjustice at his hands; but to thee, my liege, to thee, to whom all trueknights may look up as to the minor of all that knight should be--thelife and soul of chivalry--to thee, the noblest warrior, the truestknight that ever put lance in rest--to thee, I say, I am no traitor; andappeal but to the spirit of chivalry actuating thine own heart to acquitor condemn me, as it listeth. Hear me, my liege. Robert of Carrick andmyself were sworn brothers from the first hour of our entrance togetherupon life, as pages, esquires, and finally, as knights, made such bythine own royal hand; brothers in arms, in dangers, in victories, indefeat; aye, and brothers--more than brothers--in mutual fidelity andlove; to receive life, to be rescued from captivity at each other'shand, to become equal sharers of whatever honors might be granted to theone and not the other. Need my sovereign be reminded that suchconstitutes the ties of brot
hers in arms, and such brothers were Robertof Carrick and Gilbert of Gloucester. There came a rumor that theinstigations of a base traitor had poisoned your grace's ear against oneof these sworn brothers, threatening his liberty, if not his life; thatwhich was revealed, its exact truth or falsehood, might Gloucester pauseto list or weigh? My liege, thou knowest it could not be. A piece ofmoney and a pair of spurs was all the hint, the warning, that he daredto give, and it was given, and its warning taken; and the imperativeduty the laws of chivalry, of honor, friendship, all alike demandeddone. The brother by the brother saved! Was Gloucester, then, a traitorto his sovereign, good my liege?"
"Say first, my lord, how Gloucester now will reconcile these widelyadverse duties, how comport himself, if duty to his liege and sovereigncall on him to lift his sword against his brother?" demanded Edward,raising himself on his elbow, and looking on the kneeling nobleman witheyes which seemed to have recovered their flashing light to penetratehis soul. Wrath itself appeared to have subsided before this calm yeteloquent appeal, which in that age could scarcely have been resistedwithout affecting the honor of the knight to whom it was addressed.
An expression of suffering, amounting almost to anguish, took the placeof energy and fervor on the noble countenance of Gloucester, and hisvoice, which had never once quivered or failed him in the height ofEdward's wrath, now absolutely shook with the effort to master hisemotion. Twice he essayed to speak ere words came; at length--
"With Robert of Carrick Gilbert of Gloucester was allied as brother, myliege," he said. "With Robert the rebel, Robert the would-be king, thedaring opposer of my sovereign, Gloucester can have naught in common. Myliege, as a knight and gentleman, I have done my duty fearlessly,openly; as fearlessly, as openly, as your grace's loyal liegeman, fief,and subject, in the camp and in the court, in victory or defeat, againstall manner or ranks of men, be they friends or foes; to my secret heartI am thine, and thine alone. In proof of which submission, my royalliege, lest still in your grace's judgment Gloucester be not clearedfrom treachery, behold I resign alike my sword and coronet to your royalhands, never again to be resumed, save at my sovereign's bidding."
His voice became again firm ere he concluded, and with the samerespectful deference yet manly pride which had marked his bearingthroughout, he laid his sheathed sword and golden coronet at hissovereign's feet, and then rising steadily and unflinchingly, returnedEdward's searching glance, and calmly awaited his decision.
"By St. Edward! Baron of Gloucester," he exclaimed, in his own tone ofkingly courtesy, mingled with a species of admiration he cared not toconceal, "thou hast fairly challenged us to run a tilt with thee, not ofsword and lance, but of all knightly and generous courtesy. I were notrue knight to condemn, nor king to mistrust thee; yet, of a truth, thefruit of thy rash act might chafe a cooler mood than ours. Knowest thouSir John Comyn is murdered--murdered by the arch traitor thou hast savedfrom our wrath?"
"I heard it, good my liege," calmly returned Gloucester. "Robert ofCarrick was no temper to pass by injuries, aggravated, traitorousinjuries, unavenged."
"And this is all thou sayest!" exclaimed Edward, his wrath once againgaining dominion. "Wouldst thou defend this base deed on plea, forsooth,that Comyn was a traitor? Traitor--and to whom?"
"To the man that trusted him, my liege; to him he falsely swore tosecond and to aid. To every law of knighthood and of honor I say he wasa traitor, and deserved his fate."
"And this to thy sovereign, madman? To us, whose dignity and personhave been insulted, lowered, trampled on! By all the saints, thou hasttempted us too far! What ho, there, guards! Am I indeed so old andwitless," he muttered, sinking back again upon the couch from which hehad started in the moment of excitement, "as so soon to forget aknightly nobleness, which in former days would have knitted my very soulto his? Bah! 'tis this fell disease that spoke, not Edward. Away withye, sir guards, we want ye not," he added, imperatively, as theyapproached at his summons. "And thou, sir earl, take up thy sword, andhence from my sight a while;--answer not, but obey. I fear more for mineown honor than thou dost for thy head. We neither disarm nor restrainthee, for we trust thee still; but away with thee, for on our kinglyfaith, thou hast tried us sorely."
Gloucester flung himself on his knee beside his sovereign, his lips uponthe royal hand, which, though scarcely yielded to him, was not withheld,and hastily resuming his sword and coronet, with a deep reverence,silently withdrew.
The king looked after him, admiration and fierce anger struggling fordominion alike on his countenance as in his heart, and then sternly andpiercingly he scanned the noble crowd, who, hushed into a silence ofterror as well as of extreme interest during the scene they had beheld,now seemed absolutely to shrink from the dark, flashing orbs of theking, as they rested on each successively, as if the accusation of _lip_would follow that of eye, and the charge of treason fallindiscriminately on all; but, exhausted from the passion to which he hadgiven vent, Edward once more stretched himself on his cushions, andmerely muttered--
"Deserved his fate--a traitor. Is Gloucester mad--or worse, disloyal?No; that open brow and fearless eye are truth and faithfulness alone. Iwill _not_ doubt him; 'tis but his lingering love for that foul traitor,Bruce, which I were no true knight to hold in blame. But that murder,that base murder--insult alike to our authority, our realm--by everysaint in heaven, it shall be fearfully avenged, and that madman rue theday he dared fling down the gauntlet of rebellion!" and as he spoke, hisright hand instinctively grasped the hilt of his sword, and half drew itfrom its sheath.
"Madman, in very truth, my liege," said Aymer de Valence, Earl ofPembroke, who, high in favor with his sovereign, alone ventured toaddress him; "as your grace will believe, when I say not only hath hedared defy thee by the murder of Comyn, but has had the presumptuousfolly to enact the farce of coronation, taking upon himself all theinsignia of a king."
"How! what sayst thou, De Valence," returned Edward, again starting up,"coronation--king? By St. Edward! this passeth all credence. Whencehadst thou this witless news?"
"From sure authority, my liege, marvellous as they seem. These papers,if it please your grace to peruse, contain matters of import whichdemand most serious attention."
"Anon, anon, sir earl!" answered Edward, impatiently, as Pembroke,kneeling, laid the papers on a small table of ivory which stood at themonarch's side. "Tell me more of this strange farce; a king, ha! ha!Does the rebel think 'tis but to put a crown upon his head and a sceptrein his hand that makes the monarch--a king, forsooth. And who officiatedat this right solemn mockery? 'Twas, doubtless, a goodly sight!"
"On my knightly faith, my liege, strangely, yet truly, 'twas a ceremonyregally performed, and, save for numbers, regally attended."
"Thou darest not tell me so!" exclaimed the king, striking his clenchedhand fiercely on the table. "I tell thee thou darest not; 'tis a falsetale, a lie thrust upon thee to rouse thy spirit but to laugh at. DeValence, I tell thee 'tis a thing that cannot be! Scotland is laid toolow, her energies are crushed; her best and bravest lying in nobloodless graves. Who is there to attend this puppet king, save the fewwe miss? who dared provoke our wrath by the countenance of such a deed?Who would dare tempt our fury by placing a crown on the rebel's head?I tell thee they have played thee false--it cannot be!"
"Thy valor hath done much, my gracious liege," returned Pembroke, "farmore than ever king hath done before; but pardon me, your grace, the_people_ of Scotland are not yet crushed, they lie apparently in peace,till a chief capable of guiding, lordly in rank and knightly in war,ariseth, and then they too stand forth. Yet what are they? they do butnominally swell the rebel's court: they do but _seem_ a multitude, whichneeds but thy presence to disperse. He cannot, if he dare, resist thee."
"And wherefore should these tidings so disturb you grace?" interposedthe Earl of Hereford, a brave, blunt soldier, like his own charger,snuffing the scent of war far off. "We have but to bridle on ourharness, and we shall hear no more of solemn farces like to this. Givebut the word
, my sovereign, and these ignoble rebels shall be cut off toa man, by an army as numerous and well appointed as any that have yetfollowed your grace to victory; 'tis a pity they have but to encountertraitors and rebels, instead of knightly foes," continued the HighConstable of England.
"Perchance Robert of Carrick deems the assumption of king will provokeyour grace to combat even more than his traitorous rebellion, imagining,in his madness, the title of king may make ye equals," laughinglyobserved the Earl of Arundel; and remarks and opinions of similar importpassed round, but Edward, who had snatched the papers as he ceased tospeak, and was now deeply engrossed in their contents, neither repliedto nor heeded them. Darker and darker grew the frown upon his brow; histightly compressed lip, his heaving chest betraying the fearful passionthat agitated him; but when he spoke, there was evidently a struggle forthat dignified calmness which in general distinguished him, though everand anon burst forth the undisguised voice of wrath.
"'Tis well, 'tis very well," he said. "These wild Scots would tempt us tothe utmost, and they shall be satisfied. Ah! my lords of Buchan andFife, give ye good morrow. What think ye of these doings amidst yourcountrymen, bethink ye they have done well?"
"Well, as relates to their own ruin, aye, very well, my liege; they actbut as would every follower of the murderer Bruce," replied Buchan,harshly and sullenly.
"They are mad, stark mad, your highness; the loss of a little blood maybring them to their senses," rejoined the more volatile Fife.
"And is it thus ye think, base, villainous traitors as ye are, leaguedwith the rebel band in his coronation? My Lord of Chester, attach themof high treason."
"What means your grace?" exclaimed both noblemen at once, but in verydifferent accents, "Of what are we charged, and who dare make this lyingaccusation?"
"Are ye indeed so ignorant?" replied the king, jibingly. "Know ye notthat Isabella, Countess of Buchan, and representative, in the absenceof her brother, of the earldom of Fife, hath so dared our displeasure asto place the crown on the rebel's head, and vow him homage?"
"Hath she indeed dared so to do? By heaven, she shall rue this!" burstwrathfully from Buchan, his swarthy countenance assuming a yet swarthieraspect. "My liege, I swear to thee, by the Holy Cross, I knew no more ofthis than did your grace. Thinkest thou I would aid and abet the causeof one not merely a rebel and a traitor, but the foul murderer of aComyn--one at whose hands, by the sword's point, have I sworn to demandmy kinsman, and avenge him?"
"And wherefore did Isabella of Buchan take upon herself this deed, myliege, but because the only male descendant of her house refused to givehis countenance or aid to this false earl? Because Duncan of Fife wasneither a rebel himself nor gave his aid to rebels, On the honor of aknight, my liege, I know naught of this foul deed."
"It may be, it may be," answered Edward, impatiently. "We will see toit, and condemn ye not unheard; but in times like these, when traitorsand rebels walk abroad and insult us to our very teeth, by St. Edward,our honor, our safety demands the committal of the suspected till theybe cleared. Resign your swords to my Lord of Chester, and confineyourselves to your apartments. If ye be innocent, we will find means torepay you for the injustice we have done; if not, the axe and the blockshall make short work. Begone!"
Black as a thunderbolt was the scowl that lowered over the brow ofBuchan, as he sullenly unclasped his sword and gave it into the LordConstable's hand; while with an action of careless recklessness the Earlof Fife followed his example, and they retired together, the onescowling defiance on all who crossed his path, the other jesting andlaughing with each and all.
"I would not give my best falcon as pledge for the Countess of Buchan'swell-doing, an she hath done this without her lord's connivance,"whispered the Prince of Wales to one of his favorites, with many of whomhe had been conversing, in a low voice, as if his father's wrathfulaccents were not particularly grateful to his ear.
"Nor would I pledge a hawk for her safety, if she fall into his grace'shands, whether with her lord's consent or no," replied the youngnobleman, laughing. "Your royal father is fearfully incensed."
"Better destroy them root and branch at once," said the prince, who,like all weak minds, loved any extremity better than a protractedstruggle. "Exterminate with fire and sword; ravage the land till therebe neither food for man nor beast; let neither noble nor serf remain,and then, perchance, we shall hear no more of Scotland. On my faith, Iam sick of the word."
"Not so the king, my royal lord," returned his companion. "See howeagerly he talks to my lords of Pembroke and Hereford. We shall have oursovereign yet again at our head."
And it was even as he said. The king, with that strong self-commandwhich disease alone could in any way cause to fail, now conquering alikehis bitter disappointment and the fury it engendered, turned his wholethought and energy towards obtaining the downfall of his insolentopponents at one stroke; and for that purpose, summoning around him thebrave companions of former campaigns, and other officers of state, heretired with them to his private closet to deliberate more at length onthe extraordinary news they had received, and the best means of nippingthe rebellion in the bud.
The Days of Bruce Vol 1 Page 6
