CHAPTER V. WHAT FAITH EDWARD IV. PURPOSETH TO KEEP WITH EARL AND PEOPLE.
Edward received his triumphant envoy with open arms and profuseexpressions of gratitude. He exerted himself to the utmost in thebanquet that crowned the day, not only to conciliate the illustrious newcomers, but to remove from the minds of Raoul de Fulke and his officersall memory of their past disaffection. No gift is rarer or moresuccessful in the intrigues of life than that which Edward eminentlypossessed,--namely, the hypocrisy of frankness. Dissimulation is oftenhumble, often polished, often grave, sleek, smooth, decorous; but itis rarely gay and jovial, a hearty laughter, a merry, cordial, booncompanion. Such, however, was the felicitous craft of Edward IV.; and,indeed, his spirits were naturally so high, his good humour so flowing,that this joyous hypocrisy cost him no effort. Elated at the dispersionof his foes, at the prospect of his return to his ordinary life ofpleasure, there was something so kindly and so winning in his mirth,that he subjugated entirely the fiery temper of Raoul de Fulke and thesteadier suspicions of the more thoughtful St. John. Clarence, whollyreconciled to Edward, gazed on him with eyes swimming with affection,and soon drank himself into uproarious joviality. The archbishop, morereserved, still animated the society by the dry and epigrammatic wit notuncommon to his learned and subtle mind. But Warwick in vain endeavouredto shake off an uneasy, ominous gloom. He was not satisfied withEdward's avoidance of discussion upon the grave matters involved in theearl's promise to the insurgents, and his masculine spirit regarded withsome disdain, and more suspicion, a levity that he considered ill-suitedto the emergence.
The banquet was over, and Edward, having dismissed his other attendants,was in his chamber with Lord Hastings, whose office always admitted himto the wardrobe of the king.
Edward's smile had now left his lip; he paced the room with a hastystride, and then suddenly opening the casement, pointed to the landscapewithout, which lay calm and suffused in moonlight.
"Hastings," said he, abruptly, "a few hours since and the earth grewspears! Behold the landscape now!"
"So vanish all the king's enemies!"
"Ay, man, ay,--if at the king's word, or before the king's battle-axe;but at a subject's command--No, I am not a king while another scattersarmies in my realm at his bare will. 'Fore Heaven, this shall not last!"
Hastings regarded the countenance of Edward, changed from affable beautyinto terrible fierceness, with reflections suggested by his profound andmournful wisdom. "How little a man's virtues profit him in the eyes ofmen!" thought he. "The subject saves the crown, and the crown's wearernever pardons the presumption!"
"You do not speak, sir!" exclaimed Edward, irritated and impatient. "Whygaze you thus on me?"
"Beau sire," returned the favourite, calmly, "I was seeking to discoverif your pride spoke, or your nobler nature."
"Tush!" said the king, petulantly, "the noblest part of a king's natureis his pride as king!" Again he strode the chamber, and again halted."But the earl hath fallen into his own snare,--he hath promised in myname what I will not perform. Let the people learn that their idol hathdeceived them. He asks me to dismiss from the court the queen's motherand kindred!"
Hastings, who in this went thoroughly with the earl and the popularfeeling, and whose only enemies in England were the Woodvilles, repliedsimply,--
"These are cheap terms, sire, for a king's life and the crown ofEngland."
Edward started, and his eyes flashed that cold, cruel fire, which makeseyes of a light colouring so far more expressive of terrible passionsthan the quicker and warmer heat of dark orbs. "Think you so, sir? ByGod's blood, he who proffered them shall repent it in every vein of hisbody! Hark ye, William Hastings de Hastings, I know you to be a deepand ambitious man; but better for you had you covered that learnedbrain under the cowl of a mendicant friar than lent one thought to thecounsels of the Earl of Warwick."
Hastings, who felt even to fondness the affection which Edward generallyinspired in those about his person, and who, far from sympathizing,except in hate of the Woodvilles, with the earl, saw that beneaththat mighty tree no new plants could push into their fullest foliage,reddened with anger at this imperious menace.
"My liege," said he, with becoming dignity and spirit, "if you can thusaddress your most tried confidant and your lealest friend, your mostdangerous enemy is yourself."
"Stay, man," said the king, softening. "I was over warm, but the wildbeast within me is chafed. Would Gloucester were here!"
"I can tell you what would be the counsels of that wise young prince,for I know his mind," answered Hastings.
"Ay, he and you love each other well. Speak out."
"Prince Richard is a great reader of Italian lere. He saith that thosesmall States are treasuries of all experience. From that lere PrinceRichard would say to you, 'Where a subject is so great as to be feared,and too much beloved to be destroyed, the king must remember how Tarpeiawas crushed."
"I remember naught of Tarpeia, and I detest parables."
"Tarpeia, sire (it is a story of old Rome), was crushed under theweight of presents. Oh, my liege," continued Hastings, warming with thatinterest which an able man feels in his own superior art, "were I kingfor a year, by the end of it Warwick should be the most unpopular (andtherefore the weakest) lord in England!"
"And how, O wise in thine own conceit?"
"Beau sire," resumed Hastings, not heeding the rebuke--and strangelyenough he proceeded to point out, as the means of destroying the earl'sinfluence, the very method that the archbishop had detailed to Montaguas that which would make the influence irresistible and permanent--"Beausire," resumed Hastings, "Lord Warwick is beloved by the people, becausethey consider him maltreated; he is esteemed by the people, because theyconsider him above all bribe; he is venerated by the people, becausethey believe that in all their complaints and struggles he isindependent (he alone) of the king. Instead of love, I would raise envy;for instead of cold countenance I would heap him with grace. Instead ofesteem and veneration I would raise suspicion; for I would so knit himto your House, that he could not stir hand or foot against you; I wouldmake his heirs your brothers. The Duke of Clarence hath married onedaughter,--wed the other to Lord Richard. Betroth your young princess toMontagu's son, the representative of all the Neviles. The earl's immensepossessions must thus ultimately pass to your own kindred. The earlhimself will be no longer a power apart from the throne, but a part ofit. The barons will chafe against one who half ceases to be of theirorder, and yet monopolizes their dignities; the people will no longersee in the earl their champion, but a king's favourite and deputy.Neither barons nor people will flock to his banner."
"All this is well and wise," said Edward, musing; "but meanwhile myqueen's blood? Am I to reign in a solitude?--for look you, Hastings,you know well that, uxorious as fools have deemed me, I had purposeand design in the elevation of new families; I wished to raise a freshnobility to counteract the pride of the old, and only upon new noblescan a new dynasty rely."
"My Lord, I will not anger you again; but still, for a while, thequeen's relations will do well to retire."
"Good night, Hastings," interrupted Edward, abruptly, "my pillow in thisshall be my counsellor."
Whatever the purpose solitude and reflection might ripen in the king'smind, he was saved from immediate decision by news, the next morning, offresh outbreaks. The commons had risen in Lincolnshire and the countyof Warwick; and Anthony Woodville wrote word that, if the king wouldbut show himself among the forces he had raised near Coventry, allthe gentry around would rise against the rebellious rabble. Seizingadvantage of these tidings, borne to him by his own couriers, andeager to escape from the uncertain soldiery quartered at Olney, Edward,without waiting to consult even with the earl, sprang to horse, and histrumpets were the first signal of departure that he deigned to any one.
This want of ceremony displeased the pride of Warwick; but he madeno complaint, and took his place by the king's side, when Edward saidshortly,--
"Dear cou
sin, this is a time that needs all our energies. I ride towardsCoventry, to give head and heart to the raw recruits I shall find there;but I pray you and the archbishop to use all means, in this immediatedistrict, to raise fresh troops; for at your name armed men spring upfrom pasture and glebe, dyke and hedge. Join what troops you can collectin three days with mine at Coventry, and, ere the sickle is in theharvest, England shall be at peace. God speed you! Ho! there, gentlemen,away!--a franc etrier!"
Without pausing for reply,--for he wished to avoid all questioning,lest Warwick might discover that it was to a Woodville that he wasbound,--the king put spurs to his horse, and, while his men were yethurrying to and fro, rode on almost alone, and was a good mile outof the town before the force led by St. John and Raoul de Fulke, andfollowed by Hastings, who held no command, overtook him.
"I misthink the king," said Warwick, gloomily; "but my word is pledgedto the people, and it shall be kept."
"A man's word is best kept when his arm is the strongest," said thesententious archbishop; "yesterday, you dispersed an army; to-day, raiseone!"
Warwick answered not, but, after a moment's thought, beckoned toMarmaduke.
"Kinsman," said he, "spur on, with ten of my little company, to jointhe king. Report to me if any of the Woodvilles be in his camp nearCoventry."
"Whither shall I send the report?"
"To my castle of Warwick."
Marmaduke bowed his head, and, accustomed to the brevity of the earl'sspeech, proceeded to the task enjoined him. Warwick next summoned hissecond squire.
"My lady and her children," said he, "are on their way to Middleham.This paper will instruct you of their progress. Join them with all therest of my troop, except my heralds and trumpeters; and say that I shallmeet them ere long at Middleham."
"It is a strange way to raise an army," said the archbishop, dryly, "tobegin by getting rid of all the force one possesses!"
"Brother," answered the earl, "I would fain show my son-in-law, who maybe the father of a line of kings, that a general may be helpless at thehead of thousands, but that a man may stand alone who has the love of anation."
"May Clarence profit by the lesson! Where is he all this while?"
"Abed," said the stout earl, with a slight accent of disdain; and then,in a softer voice, he added, "youth is ever luxurious. Better the slowman than the false one."
Leaving Warwick to discharge the duty enjoined him, we follow thedissimulating king.
The Last of the Barons — Complete Page 50
