CHAPTER II. THE CAMP AT OLNEY.
It was some weeks after the citizens of London had seen their gallantking, at the head of such forces as were collected in haste in themetropolis, depart from their walls to the encounter of the rebels.Surprising and disastrous had been the tidings in the interim. At first,indeed, there were hopes that the insurrection had been put down byMontagu, who had defeated the troops of Robin of Redesdale, near thecity of York, and was said to have beheaded their leader. But the spiritof discontent was only fanned by an adverse wind. The popular hatred tothe Woodvilles was so great, that in proportion as Edward advanced tothe scene of action, the country rose in arms, as Raoul de Fulke hadpredicted. Leaders of lordly birth now headed the rebellion; the sonsof the Lords Latimer and Fitzhugh (near kinsmen of the House of Nevile)lent their names to the cause and Sir John Coniers, an experiencedsoldier, whose claims had been disregarded by Edward, gave to theinsurgents the aid of a formidable capacity for war. In every mouth wasthe story of the Duchess of Bedford's witchcraft; and the waxen figureof the earl did more to rouse the people than perhaps the earl himselfcould have done in person. [See "Parliamentary Rolls," vi. 232, for theaccusation of witchcraft, and the fabrication of a necromantic imageof Lord Warwick, circulated against the Duchess of Bedford. Sheherself quotes and complains of them.] As yet, however, language ofthe insurgents was tempered with all personal respect to the king; theydeclared in their manifestoes that they desired only the banishmentof the Woodvilles and the recall of Warwick, whose name they usedunscrupulously, and whom they declared they were on their way to meet.As soon as it was known that the kinsmen of the beloved earl were in therevolt, and naturally supposed that the earl himself must countenancethe enterprise, the tumultuous camp swelled every hour, while knightafter knight, veteran after veteran, abandoned the royal standard. TheLord d'Eyncourt (one of the few lords of the highest birth and greatestfollowing over whom the Neviles had no influence, and who bore theWoodvilles no grudge) had, in his way to Lincolnshire,--where hispersonal aid was necessary to rouse his vassals, infected by the commonsedition,--been attacked and wounded by a body of marauders, and thusEdward's camp lost one of its greatest leaders. Fierce dispute broke outin the king's councils; and when the witch Jacquetta's practices againstthe earl travelled from the hostile into the royal camp, Raoul de Fulke,St. John, and others, seized with pious horror, positively declaredthey would throw down their arms and retire to their castles, unlessthe Woodvilles were dismissed from the camp and the Earl of Warwick wasrecalled to England. To the first demand the king was constrained toyield; with the second he temporized. He marched from Fotheringay toNewark; but the signs of disaffection, though they could not dismayhim as a soldier, altered his plans as a captain of singular militaryacuteness; he fell back on Nottingham, and despatched, with his ownhands, letters to Clarence, the Archbishop of York, and Warwick. To thelast he wrote touchingly.
"We do not believe" (said the letter) "that ye should be of any suchdisposition towards us as the rumour here runneth, considering thetrust and affection we bear you,--and cousin, we think ye shall be to uswelcome." [Paston Letters, ccxcviii. (Knight's edition), vol. ii. p.59. See also Lingard, vol. iii. p. 522 (4to edition), note 43, for theproper date to be assigned to Edward's letter to Warwick, etc.]
But ere these letters reached their destination, the crown seemedwell-nigh lost. At Edgecote the Earl of Pembroke was defeated and slain,and five thousand royalists were left on the field. Earl Rivers and hisson, Sir John Woodville, [This Sir John Woodville was the most obnoxiousof the queen's brothers, and infamous for the avarice which had led himto marry the old Duchess of Norfolk, an act which according to the oldlaws of chivalry would have disabled him from entering the lists ofknighthood, for the ancient code disqualified and degraded any knightwho should marry any old woman for her money! Lord Rivers was the moreodious to the people at the time of the insurrection because, inhis capacity of treasurer, he had lately tampered with the coin andcirculation.] who in obedience to the royal order had retired to theearl's country seat of Grafton, were taken prisoners, and beheaded bythe vengeance of the insurgents. The same lamentable fate befellthe Lord Stafford, on whom Edward relied as one of his most puissantleaders; and London heard with dismay that the king, with but a handfulof troops, and those lukewarm and disaffected, was begirt on all sidesby hostile and marching thousands.
From Nottingham, however, Edward made good his retreat to a villagecalled Olney, which chanced at that time to be partially fortifiedwith a wall and a strong gate. Here the rebels pursued him; and Edward,hearing that Sir Anthony Woodville, who conceived that the fate of hisfather and brother cancelled all motive for longer absence fromthe contest, was busy in collecting a force in the neighbourhood ofCoventry, while other assistance might be daily expected from London,strengthened the fortifications as well as the time would permit, andawaited the assault of the insurgents.
It was at this crisis, and while throughout all England reigned terrorand commotion, that one day, towards the end of July, a small troop ofhorsemen were seen riding rapidly towards the neighbourhood of Olney. Asthe village came in view of the cavalcade, with the spire of its churchand its gray stone gateway, so also they beheld, on the pastures thatstretched around wide and far, a moving forest of pikes and plumes.
"Holy Mother!" said one of the foremost riders, "good the knight andstrong man though Edward be, it were sharp work to cut his way fromthat hamlet through yonder fields! Brother, we were more welcome, had webrought more bills and bows at our backs!"
"Archbishop," answered the stately personage thus addressed, "we bringwhat alone raises armies and disbands them,--a NAME that a Peoplehonours! From the moment the White Bear is seen on yonder archway sideby side with the king's banner, that army will vanish as smoke beforethe wind."
"Heaven grant it, Warwick!" said the Duke of Clarence; "for thoughEdward hath used us sorely, it chafes me as Plantagenet and as prince tosee how peasants and varlets can hem round a king."
"Peasants and varlets are pawns in the chessboard, cousin George," saidthe prelate; "and knight and bishop find them mighty useful when pushingforward to an attack. Now knight and bishop appear themselves and takeup the game. Warwick," added the prelate, in a whisper, unheard byClarence, "forget not, while appeasing rebellion, that the king is inyour power."
"For shame, George! I think not now of the unkind king; I think onlyof the brave boy I dandled on my knee, and whose sword I girded on atTowton. How his lion heart must chafe, condemned to see a foe whom hisskill as captain tells him it were madness to confront!"
"Ay, Richard Nevile, ay," said the prelate, with a slight sneer, "playthe Paladin, and become the dupe; release the prince, and betray thepeople!"
"No! I can be true to both. Tush! brother, your craft is slight to theplain wisdom of bold honesty. You slacken your steeds, sirs; on! on! seethe march of the rebels! On, for an Edward and a Warwick!" and, spurringto full speed, the little company arrived at the gates. The loud bugleof the new comers was answered by the cheerful note of the joyouswarder, while dark, slow, and solemn over the meadows crept on themighty crowd of the rebel army.
"We have forestalled the insurgents!" said the earl, throwing himselffrom his black steed. "Marmaduke Nevile, advance our banner; heralds,announce the Duke of Clarence, the Archbishop of York, and the Earl ofSalisbury and Warwick."
Through the anxious town, along the crowded walls and housetops, intothe hall of an old mansion (that then adjoined the church), where theking, in complete armour, stood at bay, with stubborn and disaffectedofficers, rolled the thunder cry, "A Warwick! a Warwick! all saved! aWarwick!"
Sharply, as he heard the clamour, the king turned upon his startledcouncil. "Lords and captains!" said he, with that inexpressible majestywhich he could command in his happier hours, "God and our Patron Sainthave sent us at least one man who has the heart to fight fifty times theodds of yon miscreant rabble, by his king's side, and for the honour ofloyalty and knighthood!"
"An
d who says, sire," answered Raoul de Fulke, "that we, your lords andcaptains, would not risk blood and life for our king and our knighthoodin a just cause? But we will not butcher our countrymen for echoingour own complaint, and praying your Grace that a grasping and ambitiousfamily which you have raised to power may no longer degrade your noblesand oppress your commons. We shall see if the Earl of Warwick blame usor approve."
"And I answer," said Edward, loftily, "that whether Warwick approve orblame, come as friend or foe, I will sooner ride alone through yonderarchway, and carve out a soldier's grave amongst the ranks of rebelliouswar, than be the puppet of my subjects, and serve their will bycompulsion. Free am I--free ever will I be, while the crown of thePlantagenet is mine, to raise those whom I love, to defy the threats ofthose sworn to obey me. And were I but Earl of March, instead of kingof England, this hall should have swum with the blood of those whohave insulted the friends of my youth, the wife of my bosom. Off,Hastings!--I need no mediator with my servants. Nor here, noranywhere in broad England, have I my equal, and the king forgives orscorns--construe it as ye will, my lords--what the simple gentlemanwould avenge."
It were in vain to describe the sensation that this speech produced.There is ever something in courage and in will that awes numbers, thoughbrave themselves. And what with the unquestioned valour of Edward; whatwith the effect of his splendid person, towering above all present bythe head, and moving lightly, with each impulse, through the mass ofa mail that few there could have borne unsinking, this assertionof absolute power in the midst of mutiny--an army marching to thegates--imposed an unwilling reverence and sullen silence mixed withanger, that, while it chafed, admired. They who in peace had despisedthe voluptuous monarch, feasting in his palace, and reclining on the lapof harlot-beauty, felt that in war all Mars seemed living in hisperson. Then, indeed, he was a king; and had the foe, now darkening thelandscape, been the noblest chivalry of France, not a man there but haddied for a smile from that haughty lip. But the barons were knit heartin heart with the popular outbreak, and to put down the revolt seemed tothem but to raise the Woodvilles. The silence was still unbroken, savewhere the persuasive whisper of Lord Hastings might be faintly heard inremonstrance with the more powerful or the more stubborn of the chiefs,when the tread of steps resounded without, and, unarmed, bareheaded, theonly form in Christendom grander and statelier than the king's strodeinto the hall.
Edward, as yet unaware what course Warwick would pursue, and halfdoubtful whether a revolt that had borrowed his name and was led by hiskinsmen might not originate in his consent, surrounded by those to whomthe earl was especially dear, and aware that if Warwick were against himall was lost, still relaxed not the dignity of his mien; and leaning onhis large two-handed sword, with such inward resolves as brave kingsand gallant gentlemen form, if the worst should befall, he watched themajestic strides of his great kinsman, and said, as the earl approached,and the mutinous captains louted low,--
"Cousin, you are welcome! for truly do I know that when you have aughtwhereof to complain, you take not the moment of danger and disaster. Andwhatever has chanced to alienate your heart from me, the sound of therebel's trumpet chases all difference, and marries your faith to mine."
"Oh, Edward, my king, why did you so misjudge me in the prosperoushour!" said Warwick, simply, but with affecting earnestness: "since inthe adverse hour you arede me well?"
As he spoke, he bowed his head, and, bending his knee, kissed the handheld out to him.
Edward's face grew radiant, and, raising the earl, he glanced proudly atthe barons, who stood round, surprised and mute.
"Yes, my lords and sirs, see,--it is not the Earl of Warwick, next toour royal brethren the nearest subject to the throne, who would desertme in the day of peril!"
"Nor do we, sire," retorted Raoul de Fulke; "you wrong us before ourmighty comrade if you so misthink us. We will fight for the king, butnot for the queen's kindred; and this alone brings on us your anger."
"The gates shall be opened to ye. Go! Warwick and I are men enough forthe rabble yonder."
The earl's quick eye and profound experience of his time saw at oncethe dissension and its causes. Nor, however generous, was he willingto forego the present occasion for permanently destroying an influencewhich he knew hostile to himself and hurtful to the realm. His was notthe generosity of a boy, but of a statesman. Accordingly, as Raoul deFulke ceased, he took up the word.
"My liege, we have yet an hour good ere the foe can reach the gates.Your brother and mine accompany me. See, they enter! Please you, a fewminutes to confer with them; and suffer me, meanwhile, to reason withthese noble captains."
Edward paused; but before the open brow of the earl fled whateversuspicion might have crossed the king's mind.
"Be it so, cousin; but remember this,--to councillors who can menace mewith desertion at such an hour, I concede nothing."
Turning hastily away, he met Clarence and the prelate midway in thehall, threw his arm caressingly over his brother's shoulder, and, takingthe archbishop by the hand, walked with them towards the battlements.
"Well, my friends," said Warwick, "and what would you of the king?"
"The dismissal of all the Woodvilles, except the queen; the revocationof the grants and land accorded to them, to the despoiling the ancientnoble; and, but for your presence, we had demanded your recall."
"And, failing these, what your resolve?"
"To depart, and leave Edward to his fate. These granted, we doubt littlebut that the insurgents will disband. These not granted, we but wasteour lives against a multitude whose cause we must approve."
"The cause! But ye know not the real cause," answered Warwick. "I knowit; for the sons of the North are familiar to me, and their rising hathdeeper meaning than ye deem. What! have they not decoyed to their headmy kinsmen, the heirs of Latimer and Fitzhugh, and bold Coniers, whosesteel calque should have circled a wiser brain? Have they not taken myname as their battle-cry? And do ye think this falsehood veils nothingbut the simple truth of just complaint?"
"Was their rising, then," asked St. John, in evident surprise, "whollyunauthorized by you?"
"So help me Heaven! if I would resort to arms to redress a wrong, thinknot that I myself would be absent from the field! No, my lords, friends,and captains, time presses; a few words must suffice to explain what asyet may be dark to you. I have letters from Montagu and others, whichreached me the same day as the king's, and which clear up the purposeof our misguided countrymen. Ye know well that ever in England, butespecially since the reign of Edward III., strange, wild notions of somekind of liberty other than that we enjoy have floated loose through theland. Among the commons, a half-conscious recollection that the noblesare a different race from themselves feeds a secret rancour andmislike, which, at any fair occasion for riot, shows itself bitter andruthless,--as in the outbreak of Cade and others. And if the harvestfail, or a tax gall, there are never wanting men to turn the populardistress to the ends of private ambition or state design. Such a man hasbeen the true head and front of this commotion."
"Speak you of Robin of Redesdale, now dead?" asked one of the captains.
"He is not dead. [The fate of Robin of Redesdale has been as obscure asmost of the incidents in this most perplexed part of English history.While some of the chroniclers finish his career according to the reportmentioned in the text, Fabyan not only more charitably prolongs hislife, but rewards him with the king's pardon; and according to theannals of his ancient and distinguished family (who will pardon, wetrust, a license with one of their ancestry equally allowed by historyand romance), as referred to in Wotton's "English Baronetage" (Art."Hilyard"), and which probably rests upon the authority of the life ofRichard III., in Stowe's "Annals," he is represented as still living inthe reign of that king. But the whole account of this famous demagoguein Wotton is, it must be owned, full of historical mistakes.] Montaguinforms me that the report was false. He was defeated off York, andretired for some days into the woods; but it is he who
has enticedthe sons of Latimer and Fitzhugh into the revolt, and resigned hisown command to the martial cunning of Sir John Coniers. This Robin ofRedesdale is no common man. He hath had a clerkly education, he hathtravelled among the Free Towns of Italy, he hath deep purpose in all hedoth; and among his projects is the destruction of the nobles here, asit was whilome effected in Florence, the depriving us of all offices andposts, with other changes, wild to think of and long to name."
"And we would have suffered this man to triumph!" exclaimed De Fulke:"we have been to blame."
"Under fair pretence he has gathered numbers, and now wields an army. Ihave reason to know that, had he succeeded in estranging ye from Edward,and had the king fallen, dead or alive, into his hands, his object wouldhave been to restore Henry of Windsor, but on conditions that would haveleft king and baron little more than pageants in the state. I knew thisman years ago. I have watched him since; and, strange though it may seemto you, he hath much in him that I admire as a subject and should fearwere I a king. Brief, thus runs my counsel: For our sake and the realm'ssafety, we must see this armed multitude disbanded; that done, we mustsee the grievances they with truth complain of fairly redressed. Thinknot, my lords, I avenge my own wrongs alone, when I go with you in yourresolve to banish from the king's councils the baleful influence of thequeen's kin. Till that be compassed, no peace for England. As a leprosy,their avarice crawls over the nobler parts of the state, and devourswhile it sullies. Leave this to me; and, though we will redressourselves, let us now assist our king!"
With one voice the unruly officers clamoured their assent to all theearl urged, and expressed their readiness to sally at once from thegates, and attack the rebels.
"But," observed an old veteran, "what are we amongst so many? Here ahandful--there an army!"
"Fear not, reverend sir," answered Warwick, with an assured smile; "isnot this army in part gathered from my own province of Yorkshire? Is itnot formed of men who have eaten of my bread and drunk of my cup? Letme see the man who will discharge one arrow at the walls which containRichard Nevile of Warwick. Now each to your posts,--I to the king."
Like the pouring of new blood into a decrepit body seemed the arrival,at that feeble garrison, of the Earl of Warwick. From despair into thecertainty of triumph leaped every heart. Already at the sight of hisbanner floating by the side of Edward's, the gunner had repaired to hisbombard, the archer had taken up his bow; the village itself, beforedisaffected, poured all its scanty population--women, and age, andchildren--to the walls. And when the earl joined the king upon theramparts, he found that able general sanguine and elated, and pointingout to Clarence the natural defences of the place. Meanwhile, therebels, no doubt apprised by their scouts of the new aid, had alreadyhalted in their march, and the dark swarm might be seen indistinctlyundulating, as bees ere they settle, amidst the verdure of the plain.
"Well, cousin," said the king, "have ye brought these Hotspurs to theirallegiance?"
"Sire, yes," said Warwick, gravely; "but we have here no force to resistyon army."
"Bring you not succours?" said the king, astonished. "You must havepassed through London. Have you left no troops upon the road?"
"I had no time, sire; and London is well-nigh palsied with dismay. HadI waited to collect troops, I might have found a king's head blackeningover those gates."
"Well," returned Edward, carelessly, "few or many, one gentleman is moreworth than a hundred varlets. 'We are eno' for glory,' as Henry said atAgincourt."
"No, sire; you are too skilful and too wise to believe your boast. Thesemen we cannot conquer,--we must disperse them."
"By what spell?"
"By their king's word to redress their complaints."
"And banish my queen?"
"Heaven forbid that man should part those whom God has joined," returnedWarwick. "Not my lady, your queen, but my lady's kindred."
"Rivers is dead, and gallant John," said Edward, sadly; "is not thatenough for revenge?"
"It is not revenge that we require, but pledges for the land's safety,"answered Warwick. "And to be plain, without such a promise these wallsmay be your tomb."
Edward walked apart, strongly debating within himself. In his characterwere great contrasts: no man was more frank in common, no man more falsewhen it suited; no man had more levity in wanton love, or more firmaffection for those he once thoroughly took to his heart. He was thereverse of grateful for service yielded, yet he was warm in protectingthose on whom service was conferred. He was resolved not to give up theWoodvilles, and after a short self-commune, he equally determined not torisk his crown and life by persevering in resistance to the demand fortheir downfall. Inly obstinate, outwardly yielding, he concealed hisfalsehood with his usual soldierly grace.
"Warwick," he said, returning to the earl's side, "you cannot adviseme to what is misbeseeming, and therefore in this strait I resign myconduct to your hands. I will not unsay to yon mutinous gentlemen what Ihave already said; but what you judge it right to promise in my nameto them or to the insurgents, I will not suppose that mime honour willrefuse to concede. But go not hence, O noblest friend that ever stoodby a king's throne!--go not hence till the grasp of your hand assures methat all past unkindness is gone and buried; yea, and by this hand,and while its pressure is warm in mine, bear not too hard on thy king'saffection for his lady's kindred."
"Sire," said Warwick, though his generous nature well-nigh meltedinto weakness, and it was with an effort that he adhered to hispurpose,--"sire, if dismissed for a while, they shall not be degraded.And if it be, on consideration, wise to recall from the familyof Woodville your grants of lands and lordships, take from yourWarwick--who, rich in his king's love, hath eno' to spare--take thedouble of what you would recall. Oh, be frank with me, be true, besteadfast, Edward, and dispose of my lands, whenever you would content afavourite."
"Not to impoverish thee, my Warwick," answered Edward, smiling, "did Icall thee to my aid; for the rest, my revenues as Duke of York are atleast mine to bestow. Go now to the hostile camp,--go as sole ministerand captain-general of this realm; go with all powers and honours a kingcan give; and when these districts are at peace, depart to our Welshprovinces, as chief justiciary of that principality. Pembroke's mournfuldeath leaves that high post in my gift. It cannot add to your greatness,but it proves to England your sovereign's trust."
"And while that trust is given," said Warwick, with tears in hiseyes, "may Heaven strengthen my arm in battle, and sharpen my brain incouncil! But I play the laggard. The sun wanes westward; it should notgo down while a hostile army menaces the son of Richard of York."
The earl rode rapidly away, reached the broad space where his followersstill stood, dismounted, but beside their steeds,--
"Trumpets advance, pursuivants and heralds go before! Marmaduke, mount!The rest I need not. We ride to the insurgent camp."
The Last of the Barons — Complete Page 47
