CHAPTER IX. THE INTERVIEW OF EARL WARWICK AND QUEEN MARGARET.
Louis hastened to meet Margaret at Tours; thither came also her fatherRene, her brother John of Calabria, Yolante her sister, and the Count ofVaudemonte. The meeting between the queen and Rene was so touching as tohave drawn tears to the hard eyes of Louis XI.; but, that emotion over,Margaret evinced how little affliction had humbled her high spirit, orsoftened her angry passions: she interrupted Louis in every argument forreconciliation with Warwick. "Not with honour to myself and to my son,"she exclaimed, "can I pardon that cruel earl, the main cause of KingHenry's downfall! in vain patch up a hollow peace between us,--a peaceof form and parchment! My spirit never can be contented with him, nepardon!"
For several days she maintained a language which betrayed the chiefcause of her own impolitic passions, that had lost her crown. Showingto Louis the letter despatched to her, proffering the hand of the LadyElizabeth to her son, she asked if that were not a more profitableparty [See, for this curious passage of secret history, Sir H. Ellis's"Original Letters from the Harleian Manuscripts," second series,vol. i., letter 42.], and if it were necessary that she shouldforgive,--whether it were not more queenly to treat with Edward thanwith a twofold rebel?
In fact, the queen would perhaps have fallen into Gloucester's artfulsnare, despite all the arguments and even the half-menaces [Louiswould have thrown over Margaret's cause if Warwick had demanded it; heinstructed MM. de Concressault and du Plessis to assure the earl thathe would aid him to the utmost to reconquer England either for the QueenMargaret or for any one else he chose (on pour qui il voudra): for thathe loved the earl better than Margaret or her son.--BRANTE, t. ix. 276.]of the more penetrating Louis, but for a counteracting influence whichRichard had not reckoned upon. Prince Edward, who had lingered behindLouis, arrived from Amboise, and his persuasions did more than all therepresentations of the crafty king. The queen loved her son with thatintenseness which characterizes the one soft affection of violentnatures. Never had she yet opposed his most childish whim, and now hespoke with the eloquence of one who put his heart and his life's lifeinto his words. At last, reluctantly, she consented to an interview withWarwick. The earl, accompanied by Oxford, arrived at Tours, and the twonobles were led into the presence of Margaret by King Louis.
The reader will picture to himself a room darkened by thick curtainsdrawn across the casement, for the proud woman wished not the earlto detect on her face either the ravages of years or the emotionsof offended pride. In a throne chair, placed on the dais, sat themotionless queen, her hands clasping, convulsively, the arms of thefauteuil, her features pale and rigid; and behind the chair leaned thegraceful figure of her son. The person of the Lancastrian prince waslittle less remarkable than that of his hostile namesake, but itscharacter was distinctly different. ["According to some of the Frenchchroniclers, the Prince of Wales, who was one of the handsomest andmost accomplished princes in Europe, was very desirous of becoming thehusband of Anne Nevile," etc.--Miss STRICKLAND: Life of Margaret ofAnjou.] Spare, like Henry V., almost to the manly defect of leanness,his proportions were slight to those which gave such portly majesty tothe vast-chested Edward, but they evinced the promise of almost equalstrength,--the muscles hardened to iron by early exercise in arms,the sap of youth never wasted by riot and debauch. His short purplemanteline, trimmed with ermine, was embroidered with his grandfather'sfavourite device, "the silver swan;" he wore on his breast the badge ofSt. George; and the single ostrich plume, which made his cognizance asPrince of Wales, waved over a fair and ample forehead, on which wereeven then traced the lines of musing thought and high design; hischestnut hair curled close to his noble head; his eye shone darkand brilliant beneath the deep-set brow, which gives to the humancountenance such expression of energy and intellect,--all about him,in aspect and mien, seemed to betoken a mind riper than his years,a masculine simplicity of taste and bearing, the earnest and gravetemperament mostly allied in youth to pure and elevated desires, to anhonourable and chivalric soul.
Below the dais stood some of the tried and gallant gentlemen who hadbraved exile, and tasted penury in their devotion to the House ofLancaster, and who had now flocked once more round their queen, in thehope of better days. There were the Dukes of Exeter and Somerset, theirvery garments soiled and threadbare,--many a day had those great lordshungered for the beggar's crust! [Philip de Comines says he himselfhad seen the Dukes of Exeter and Somerset in the Low Countries in aswretched a plight as common beggars.] There stood Sir John Fortescue,the patriarch authority of our laws, who had composed his famoustreatise for the benefit of the young prince, overfond of exercise withlance and brand, and the recreation of knightly song. There were Jasperof Pembroke, and Sir Henry Rous, and the Earl of Devon, and the Knightof Lytton, whose House had followed, from sire to son, the fortunes ofthe Lancastrian Rose; [Sir Robert de Lytton (whose grandfather had beenComptroller to the Household of Henry IV., and Agister of the Forestsallotted to Queen Joan), was one of the most powerful knights of thetime; and afterwards, according to Perkin Warbeck, one of the ministersmost trusted by Henry VII. He was lord of Lytton, in Derbyshire (wherehis ancestors had been settled since the Conquest), of Knebworth inHerts (the ancient seat and manor of Plantagenet de Brotherton, Earlof Norfolk and Earl Marshal), of Myndelesden and Langley, of Standyarn,Dene, and Brekesborne, in Northamptonshire, and became in the reign ofHenry VII. Privy Councillor, Uuder-Treasurer, and Keeper of the greatWardrobe.] and, contrasting the sober garments of the exiles, shone thejewels and cloth-of-gold that decked the persons of the more prosperousforeigners, Ferri, Count of Vaudemonte, Margaret's brother, the Dukeof Calabria, and the powerful form of Sir Pierre de Breze, who hadaccompanied Margaret in her last disastrous campaigns, with all thedevotion of a chevalier for the lofty lady adored in secret. [See,for the chivalrous devotion of this knight (Seneschal of Normandy) toMargaret, Miss Strickland's Life of that queen.]
When the door opened, and gave to the eyes of those proud exiles theform of their puissant enemy, they with difficulty suppressed the murmurof their resentment, and their looks turned with sympathy and grief tothe hueless face of their queen.
The earl himself was troubled; his step was less firm, his crest lesshaughty, his eye less serenely steadfast.
But beside him, in a dress more homely than that of the poorest exilethere, and in garb and in aspect, as he lives forever in the portraitureof Victor Hugo and our own yet greater Scott, moved Louis, popularlycalled "The Fell."
"Madame and cousin," said the king, "we present to you the man for whosehaute courage and dread fame we have such love and respect, that wevalue him as much as any king, and would do as much for him as for manliving [Ellis: Original Letters, vol. i., letter 42, second series]; andwith my lord of Warwick, see also this noble earl of Oxford, who, thoughhe may have sided awhile with the enemies of your Highness, comes now topray your pardon, and to lay at your feet his sword."
Lord Oxford (who had ever unwillingly acquiesced in the Yorkistdynasty), more prompt than Warwick, here threw himself on his kneesbefore Margaret, and his tears fell on her hand, as he murmured"Pardon."
"Rise, Sir John de Vere," said the queen, glancing with a flashing eyefrom Oxford to Lord Warwick. "Your pardon is right easy to purchase, forwell I know that you yielded but to the time,--you did not turn the timeagainst us; you and yours have suffered much for King Henry's cause.Rise, Sir Earl."
"And," said a voice, so deep and so solemn, that it hushed the verybreath of those who heard it,--"and has Margaret a pardon also for theman who did more than all others to dethrone King Henry, and can do morethan all to restore his crown?"
"Ha!" cried' Margaret, rising in her passion, and casting from her thehand her son had placed upon her shoulder, "ha! Ownest thou thy wrongs,proud lord? Comest thou at last to kneel at Queen Margaret's feet?Look round and behold her court,--some half-score brave and unhappygentlemen, driven from their hearths and homes, their heritage the preyof knaves and varlets, their sovereign in
a prison, their sovereign'swife, their sovereign's son, persecuted and hunted from the soil! Andcomest thou now to the forlorn majesty of sorrow to boast, 'Such deedswere mine?'"
"Mother and lady," began the prince
"Madden me not, my son. Forgiveness is for the prosperous, not foradversity and woe."
"Hear me," said the earl,--who, having once bowed his pride to theinterview, had steeled himself against the passion which, in hisheart, he somewhat despised as a mere woman's burst of inconsideratefury,--"for I have this right to be heard,--that not one of theseknights, your lealest and noblest friends, can say of me that I everstooped to gloss mine acts, or palliate bold deeds with wily words. Dearto me as comrade in arms, sacred to me as a father's head, was Richardof York, mine uncle by marriage with Lord Salisbury's sister. I speaknot now of his claims by descent (for those even King Henry could notdeny), but I maintain them, even in your Grace's presence, to be such asvindicate, from disloyalty and treason, me and the many true and gallantmen who upheld them through danger, by field and scaffold. Error, itmight be,--but the error of men who believed themselves the defendersof a just cause. Nor did I, Queen Margaret, lend myself wholly to mykinsman's quarrel, nor share one scheme that went to the dethronement ofKing Henry, until--pardon, if I speak bluntly; it is my wont, and wouldbe more so now, but for thy fair face and woman's form, which awe memore than if confronting the frown of Coeur de Lion, or the First GreatEdward--pardon me, I say, if I speak bluntly, and aver that I was notKing Henry's foe until false counsellors had planned my destruction, inbody and goods, land and life. In the midst of peace, at Coventry, myfather and myself scarcely escaped the knife of the murderer. [See Hall(236), who says that Margaret had laid a snare for Salisbury and Warwickat Warwick, and "if they had not suddenly departed, their life's threadhad been broken."] In the streets of London the very menials andhangmen employed in the service of your Highness beset me unarmed [Hall,Fabyan]; a little time after and my name was attainted by an illegalParliament. [Parl. Rolls, 370; W. Wyr. 478.] And not till after thesethings did Richard Duke of York ride to the hall of Westminster, andlay his hand upon the throne; nor till after these things did I andmy father Salisbury say to each other, 'The time has come when neitherpeace nor honour can be found for us under King Henry's reign.' Blameme if you will, Queen Margaret; reject me if you need not my sword; butthat which I did in the gone days was such as no nobleman so outragedand despaired [Warwick's phrase. See Sir H. Ellis's "Original Letters,"vol. i., second series.] would have forborne to do,--remembering thatEngland is not the heritage of the king alone, but that safety andhonour, and freedom and justice, are the rights of his Norman gentlemenand his Saxon people. And rights are a mockery and a laughter if they donot justify resistance, whensoever, and by whomsoever, they are invadedand assailed."
It had been with a violent effort that Margaret had refrainedfrom interrupting this address, which had, however, produced noinconsiderable effect upon the knightly listeners around the dais.And now, as the earl ceased, her indignation was arrested by dismay onseeing the young prince suddenly leave his post and advance to the sideof Warwick.
"Right well hast thou spoken, noble earl and cousin,--right well, thoughright plainly. And I," added the prince, "saving the presence of myqueen and mother,--I, the representative of my sovereign father, in hisname will pledge thee a king's oblivion and pardon for the past, ifthou on thy side acquit my princely mother of all privity to the snaresagainst thy life and honour of which thou hast spoken, and give thyknightly word to be henceforth leal to Lancaster. Perish all memories ofthe past that can make walls between the souls of brave men."
Till this moment, his arms folded in his gown, his thin, fox-like facebent to the ground, Louis had listened, silent and undisturbed. He nowdeemed it the moment to second the appeal of the prince. Passing hishand hypocritically over his tearless eyes, the king turned to Margaretand said,--
"Joyful hour! happy union! May Madame La Vierge and Monseigneur SaintMartin sanctify and hallow the bond by which alone my beloved kinswomancan regain her rights and roiaulme. Amen."
Unheeding this pious ejaculation, her bosom heaving, her eyes wanderingfrom the earl to Edward, Margaret at last gave vent to her passion.
"And is it come to this, Prince Edward of Wales, that thy mother'swrongs are not thine? Standest thou side by side with my mortal foe,who, instead of repenting treason, dares but to complain of injury? AmI fallen so low that my voice to pardon or disdain is counted but as asough of idle air! God of my fathers, hear me! Willingly from my heartI tear the last thought and care for the pomps of earth. Hateful to mea crown for which the wearer must cringe to enemy and rebel! Away, EarlWarwick! Monstrous and unnatural seems it to the wife of captive Henryto see thee by the side of Henry's son!"
Every eye turned in fear to the aspect of the earl, every ear listenedfor the answer which might be expected from his well-known heat andpride,--an answer to destroy forever the last hope of the Lancastrianline. But whether it was the very consciousness of his power to raiseor to crush that fiery speaker, or those feelings natural to brave men,half of chivalry, half contempt, which kept down the natural anger bythoughts of the sex and sorrows of the Anjouite, or that the wontedirascibility of his temper had melted into one steady and profoundpassion of revenge against Edward of York, which absorbed all lesser andmore trivial causes of resentment,--the earl's face, though pale as thedead, was unmoved and calm, and, with a grave and melancholy smile, heanswered,--
"More do I respect thee, O queen, for the hot words which show a truthrarely heard from royal lips than hadst thou deigned to dissimulate theforgiveness and kindly charity which sharp remembrance permits thee notto feel! No, princely Margaret, not yet can there be frank amity betweenthee and me! Nor do I boast the affection yon gallant gentlemen havedisplayed. Frankly, as thou hast spoken, do I say, that the wrongs Ihave suffered from another alone move me to allegiance to thyself! Letothers serve thee for love of Henry; reject not my service, given butfor revenge on Edward,--as much, henceforth, am I his foe as formerlyhis friend and maker! [Sir H. Ellis: Original Letters, vol. i., secondseries.] And if, hereafter, on the throne, thou shouldst remember andresent the former wars, at least thou hast owed me no gratitude, andthou canst not grieve my heart and seethe my brain, as the man whom Ionce loved better than a son! Thus, from thy presence I depart, chafingnot at thy scornful wrath; mindful, young prince, but of thy just andgentle heart, and sure, in the calm of my own soul (on which this much,at least, of our destiny is reflected as on a glass), that when, highlady, thy colder sense returns to thee, thou wilt see that the leaguebetween us must be made!--that thine ire as woman must fade before thyduties as a another, thy affection as a wife, and thy paramount andsolemn obligations to the people thou hast ruled as queen! In thedead of night thou shalt hear the voice of Henry in his prison askingMargaret to set him free; the vision of thy son shall rise before theein his bloom and promise, to demand why his mother deprives him of acrown; and crowds of pale peasants, grinded beneath tyrannous exaction,and despairing fathers mourning for dishonoured children, shall ask theChristian queen if God will sanction the unreasoning wrath which rejectsthe only instrument that can redress her people."
This said, the earl bowed his head and turned; but, at the first sign ofhis departure, there was a general movement among the noble bystanders.Impressed by the dignity of his bearing, by the greatness of his power,and by the unquestionable truth that in rejecting him Margaret castaway the heritage of her son, the exiles, with a common impulse, threwthemselves at the queen's feet, and exclaimed, almost in the samewords,--
"Grace! noble queen!--Grace for the great Lord Warwick!"
"My sister," whispered John of Calabria, "thou art thy son's ruin if theearl depart!"
"Pasque Dieu! Vex not my kinswoman,--if she prefer a convent to athrone, cross not the holy choice!" said the wily Louis, with a mockingirony on his pinched lips.
The prince alone spoke not, but stood proudly on the same spot, gazingon the
earl, as he slowly moved to the door.
"Oh, Edward! Edward, my son!" exclaimed the unhappy Margaret, "if forthy sake--for thine--I must make the past a blank, speak thou for me!"
"I have spoken," said the prince, gently, "and thou didst chide me,noble mother; yet I spoke, methinks, as Henry V. had done, if of amighty enemy he had had the power to make a noble friend."
A short, convulsive sob was heard from the throne chair; and as suddenlyas it burst, it ceased. Queen Margaret rose, not a trace of thatstormy emotion upon the grand and marble beauty of her face. Her voice,unnaturally calm, arrested the steps of the departing earl.
"Lord Warwick, defend this boy, restore his rights, release his saintedfather, and for years of anguish and of exile, Margaret of Anjouforgives the champion of her son!"
In an instant Prince Edward was again by the earl's side; a moment more,and the earl's proud knee bent in homage to the queen, joyful tears werein the eyes of her friends and kindred, a triumphant smile on the lipsof Louis, and Margaret's face, terrible in its stony and locked repose,was raised above, as if asking the All-Merciful pardon--for the pardonwhich the human sinner had bestowed! [Ellis: Original Letters from theHarleian Manuscripts, letter 42.]
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