CHAPTER VI. LORD WARWICK, WITH THE FOE IN THE FIELD AND THE TRAITOR ATTHE HEARTH.
Every precaution which human wisdom could foresee had Lord Warwick takento guard against invasion, or to crush it at the onset. [Hall.] All thecoasts on which it was most probable Edward would land had been stronglyguarded. And if the Humber had been left without regular troops, it wasbecause prudence might calculate that the very spot where Edward didland was the very last he would have selected,--unless guided by fate tohis destruction,--in the midst of an unfriendly population, and in faceof the armies of Northumberland and of Montagu. The moment the earlheard of Edward's reception at York,--far from the weakness which thefalse Clarence (already in correspondence with Gloucester) imputed tohim,--he despatched to Montagu, by Marmaduke Nevile, peremptory ordersto intercept Edward's path, and give him battle before he could advancefarther towards the centre of the island. We shall explain presently whythis messenger did not reach the marquis. But Clarence was some hoursbefore him in his intelligence and his measures.
When the earl next heard that Edward had passed Pontefract withimpunity, and had reached Doncaster, he flew first to London, to arrangefor its defence; consigned the care of Henry to the Archbishop ofYork, mustered a force already quartered in the neighbourhood of themetropolis, and then marched rapidly back towards Coventry, where hehad left Clarence with seven thousand men; while he despatched newmessengers to Montagu and Northumberland, severely rebuking the formerfor his supineness, and ordering him to march in all haste to attackEdward in the rear. The earl's activity, promptitude, all-providentgeneralship, form a mournful contrast to the errors, the pusillanimity,and the treachery of others, which hitherto, as we have seen, made allhis wisest schemes abortive. Despite Clarence's sullenness, Warwick haddiscovered no reason, as yet, to doubt his good faith. The oath he hadtaken--not only to Henry in London, but to Warwick at Amboise--had beenthe strongest which can bind man to man. If the duke had not gained allhe had hoped, he had still much to lose and much to dread by desertionto Edward. He had been the loudest in bold assertions when he heard ofthe invasion; and above all, Isabel, whose influence over Clarenceat that time the earl overrated, had, at the tidings of so imminent adanger to her father, forgot all her displeasure and recovered all hertenderness.
During Warwick's brief absence, Isabel had indeed exerted her utmostpower to repair her former wrongs, and induce Clarence to be faithful tohis oath. Although her inconsistency and irresolution had much weakenedher influence with the duke, for natures like his are governed butby the ascendancy of a steady and tranquil will, yet still she so farprevailed, that the duke had despatched to Richard a secret courier,informing him that he had finally resolved not to desert hisfather-in-law.
This letter reached Gloucester as the invaders were on their march toCoventry, before the strong walls of which the Duke of Clarence layencamped. Richard, after some intent and silent reflection, beckoned tohim his familiar Catesby.
"Marmaduke Nevile, whom our scouts seized on his way to Pontefract, issafe, and in the rear?"
"Yes, my lord; prisoners but encumber us; shall I give orders to theprovost to end his captivity?"
"Ever ready, Catesby!" said the duke, with a fell smile. "No; hark ye,Clarence vacillates. If he hold firm to Warwick, and the two forcesfight honestly against us, we are lost; on the other hand, if Clarencejoin us, his defection will bring not only the men he commands, all ofwhom are the retainers of the York lands and duchy, and therefore freefrom peculiar bias to the earl, and easily lured back to their properchief; but it will set an example that will create such distrust andpanic amongst the enemy, and give such hope of fresh desertions to ourown men, as will open to us the keys of the metropolis. But Clarence,I say, vacillates; look you, here is his letter from Amboise to KingEdward; see, his duchess, Warwick's very daughter, approves the promiseit contains! If this letter reach Warwick, and Clarence knows it is inhis hand, George will have no option but to join us. He will never dareto face the earl, his pledge to Edward once revealed--"
"Most true; a very legal subtlety, my lord," said the lawyer Catesby,admiringly.
"You can serve us in this. Fall back; join Sir Marmaduke; affect tosympathize with him; affect to side with the earl; affect to make termsfor Warwick's amity and favour; affect to betray us; affect to havestolen this letter. Give it to young Nevile, artfully effect his escape,as if against our knowledge, and commend him to lose not an hour--amoment--in gaining the earl, and giving him so important a forewarningof the meditated treason of his son-in-law."
"I will do all,--I comprehend; but how will the duke learn in time thatthe letter is on its way to Warwick?"
"I will seek the duke in his own tent."
"And how shall I effect Sir Marmaduke's escape?"
"Send hither the officer who guards the prisoner; I will give him ordersto obey thee in all things."
The invaders marched on. The earl, meanwhile, had reached Warwick,hastened thence to throw himself into the stronger fortifications ofthe neighbouring Coventry, without the walls of which Clarence wasstill encamped; Edward advanced on the town of Warwick thus vacated;and Richard, at night, rode along to the camp of Clarence. [Hall, andothers.]
The next day, the earl was employed in giving orders to his lieutenantsto march forth, join the troops of his son-in-law, who were a mile fromthe walls, and advance upon Edward, who had that morning quitted Warwicktown, when suddenly Sir Marmaduke Nevile rushed into his presence, and,faltering out, "Beware, beware!" placed in his hands the fatal letterwhich Clarence had despatched from Amboise.
Never did blow more ruthless fall upon man's heart! Clarence'sperfidy--that might be disdained; but the closing lines, which revealeda daughter's treachery--words cannot express the father's anguish.
The letter dropped from his hand, a stupor seized his senses, and, ereyet recovered, pale men hurried into his presence to relate how, amidstjoyous trumpets and streaming banners, Richard of Gloucester had ledthe Duke of Clarence to the brotherly embrace of Edward. [Hall. Thechronicler adds: "It was no marvell that the Duke of Clarence with sosmall persuasion and less exhorting turned from the Earl of Warwick'sparty, for, as you have heard before, this marchandise was laboured,conducted, and concluded by a damsell, when the duke was in the Frenchcourt, to the earl's utter confusion." Hume makes a notable mistake indeferring the date of Clarence's desertion to the battle of Barnet.]
Breaking from these messengers of evil news, that could not nowsurprise, the earl strode on, alone, to his daughter's chamber.
He placed the letter in her hands, and folding his arms said, "Whatsayest thou of this, Isabel of Clarence?" The terror, the shame, theremorse, that seized upon the wretched lady, the death-like lips, thesuppressed shriek, the momentary torpor, succeeded by the impulse whichmade her fall at her father's feet and clasp his knees,--told the earl,if he had before doubted, that the letter lied not; that Isabel hadknown and sanctioned its contents.
He gazed on her (as she grovelled at his feet) with a look that her eyesdid well to shun.
"Curse me not! curse me not!" cried Isabel, awed by his very silence."It was but a brief frenzy. Evil counsel, evil passion! I was maddenedthat my boy had lost a crown. I repented, I repented! Clarence shall yetbe true. He hath promised it, vowed it to me; hath written to Gloucesterto retract all,--to--"
"Woman! Clarence is in Edward's camp!"
Isabel started to her feet, and uttered a shriek so wild and despairing,that at least it gave to her father's lacerated heart the miserablesolace of believing the last treason had not been shared. A softerexpression--one of pity, if not of pardon--stole over his dark face.
"I curse thee not," he said; "I rebuke thee not. Thy sin hath its ownpenance. Ill omen broods on the hearth of the household traitor! Nevermore shalt thou see holy love in a husband's smile. His kiss shall havethe taint of Judas. From his arms thou shalt start with horror, as fromthose of thy wronged father's betrayer,--perchance his deathsman! Illomen broods on the cradle of the child
for whom a mother's ambitionwas but a daughter's perfidy. Woe to thee, wife and mother! Even myforgiveness cannot avert thy doom!"
"Kill me! kill me!" exclaimed Isabel, springing towards him; but seeinghis face averted, his arms folded on his breast,--that noble breast,never again her shelter,--she fell lifeless on the floor. [As ournarrative does not embrace the future fate of the Duchess of Clarence,the reader will pardon us if we remind him that her first-born (who borehis illustrious grandfather's title of Earl of Warwick) was cast intoprison on the accession of Henry VII., and afterwards beheaded by thatking. By birth, he was the rightful heir to the throne. The ill-fatedIsabel died young (five years after the date at which our tale hasarrived). One of her female attendants was tried and executed on thecharge of having poisoned her. Clarence lost no time in seeking tosupply her place. He solicited the hand of Mary of Burgundy, soledaughter and heir of Charles the Bold. Edward's jealousy and fearforbade him to listen to an alliance that might, as Lingard observes,enable Clarence "to employ the power of Burgundy to win the crown ofEngland;" and hence arose those dissensions which ended in the secretmurder of the perjured duke.]
The earl looked round, to see that none were by to witness his weakness,took her gently in his arms, laid her on her couch, and, bending overher a moment, prayed to God to pardon her.
He then hastily left the room, ordered her handmaids and her litter, andwhile she was yet unconscious, the gates of the town opened, and forththrough the arch went the closed and curtained vehicle which bore theill-fated duchess to the new home her husband had made with her father'sfoe! The earl watched it from the casement of his tower, and said tohimself,--
"I had been unmanned, had I known her within the same walls. Now foreverI dismiss her memory and her crime. Treachery hath done its worst, andmy soul is proof against all storms!"
At night came messengers from Clarence and Edward, who had returnedto Warwick town, with offers of pardon to the earl, with promises offavour, power, and grace. To Edward the earl deigned no answer; to themessenger of Clarence he gave this: "Tell thy master I had liefer bealways like myself than like a false and a perjured duke, and that Iam determined never to leave the war till I have lost mine own life, orutterly extinguished and put down my foes." [Hall.]
After this terrible defection, neither his remaining forces, nor thepanic amongst them which the duke's desertion had occasioned, northe mighty interests involved in the success of his arms, nor theirretrievable advantage which even an engagement of equivocal resultwith the earl in person would give to Edward, justified Warwick ingratifying the anticipations of the enemy,--that his valour and wrathwould urge him into immediate and imprudent battle.
Edward, after the vain bravado of marching up to the walls of Coventry,moved on towards London. Thither the earl sent Marmaduke, enjoining theArchbishop of York and the lord mayor but to hold out the city for threedays, and he would come to their aid with such a force as would insurelasting triumph. For, indeed, already were hurrying to his bannerMontagu, burning to retrieve his error, Oxford and Exeter, recoveredfrom, and chafing at, their past alarm. Thither his nephew, Fitzhugh,led the earl's own clansmen of Middleham; thither were spurring Somersetfrom the west, [Most historians state that Somerset was then in London;but Sharon Turner quotes "Harleian Manuscripts," 38, to show that he hadleft the metropolis "to raise an army from the western counties," andranks him amongst the generals at the battle of Barnet.] and Sir ThomasDymoke from Lincolnshire, and the Knight of Lytton, with his hardyretainers, from the Peak. Bold Hilyard waited not far from London, witha host of mingled yeomen and bravos, reduced, as before, to disciplineunder his own sturdy energies and the military craft of Sir JohnConiers. If London would but hold out till these forces could unite,Edward's destruction was still inevitable.
BOOK XII. THE BATTLE OF BARNET.
The Last of the Barons — Complete Page 89
