CHAPTER XI
SOME HAPPENINGS AT WINDSOR
I now go back to relate that which happened at Windsor, after I had left for Ludlow. What I am now about to put down was told to me, partly by Harleston, as we sat in my rooms in Ludlow Castle, and partly by Hazel, when next I saw her.
I had only been gone one day when Gloucester called to see the Queen. When he was admitted he saluted her Majesty in the most respectful and kindly manner, and spoke in that smooth and diplomatic way of which he so well knew the potency. "My dear sister," said he, "I have not come to thee before to-day, because I knew full well how useless, and even cruel, it is to speak of affairs of state to one whose heart hath so recently been caused to bleed, by the loss of a husband which was, and whose memory ever shall be, so dear to thee, and to us all. But now, my poor widowed sister, it is thy duty to bethink thee of thy son. He should be sent for, and be conducted here forthwith, in order that he may be crowned with proper expediency and pomp. Methought it was not well to let this matter stand too long; for we must not forget that Lancaster still doth cast a longing eye upon the crown of England. 'Twas but yester e'en I heard that they were corresponding with that bastard, which calls himself the Earl of Richmond."
"Then I did well when I sent word unto my brother to levy a strong force and conduct my son to London," said the Queen, with a look of anxiety.
Gloucester seemed taken aback for a moment; but, quickly recovering himself, he said:—"I did not know that your Majesty had so instructed Lord Rivers; and indeed I do not know that this is the wisest course. The people of the City may not like to see this armed force thus march on London, as though the King's person were not safe without this strong protection. Thinkest thou it had not been better to have consulted with Lord Hastings, and some others, before taking a step so important to the peace of the kingdom? When didst thou so instruct thy brother?"
"But yesterday I sent him a letter by a trusted officer," answered the Queen, quite innocent, and put off her guard by the oily tongue and kindly manner of this deceitful hypocrite.
"What dost thou say? Shall we sound Lord Hastings, and have the benefit of his opinion before Lord Rivers doth proceed too far with his preparations?"
The Queen, suspecting nothing, walked into this trap, set with such cunning by the Duke (for well he knew the view that Hastings would take of such a measure) and consented to this course.
So soon as Gloucester had left the Queen he despatched two messengers, one to Buckingham, and the other to Hastings.
When these noblemen arrived they were conducted into the presence of the Protector. "Well, my friends," said Gloucester, when he had greeted them, "the Queen hath gained a march on us. Her Majesty seems determined to still rule England. She now intends to do it through her son, the young Edward, as she hath heretofore done through her husband, the older one."
"What dost thou mean, my lord?" asked Hastings; who, though an honest man, yet disliked the Queen, or rather, was jealous of her power.
Then Gloucester told them of his interview with the Queen, and the message she had sent to Lord Rivers.
When he had finished speaking, Buckingham broke out:—"By Heaven!" said he, "if her Majesty has Rivers march on London, as though it were the stronghold of a band of outlaws, he shall be met with a force stronger than his own." Then speaking to Lord Hastings, he said, whilst he pointed to Richard:—"Here sits the Lord Protector, which was appointed the guardian of the King by the boy's late lamented father; and the Queen and her brother take it upon themselves to assume his office, and to issue orders for the raising of an army, without his consent, or even knowledge; 'tis monstrous! What sayest thou, my Lord Hastings? Should they not be made to answer for this insult to our Royal Protector?"
Then Richard put in a cunning word for himself. "Yes, it seems as though I am quite forgot. By Saint Paul, I have no love for the office; but sith it was put upon me, by my dear dead brother, I do consider it my duty to fulfill the trust he then reposed in me."
This last stroke brought Hastings to their side. "By the light of Heaven!" cried he, "unless this order be countermanded, myself will return to the government of Calais, and the whole damn kingdom may rot ere I will ever serve under a government led by the Queen and her upstart kinsmen."
"Then, my friends, ye think it best for me to inform the Queen that we do not consider it a wise step on her part to thus make show of force, which the people of the City would consider a slur upon their loyalty," said Richard, in his softest tones.
"Indeed, my lord, had I the saying of it, I would not put it in such gentle terms," said Buckingham; "what dost thou say, Lord Hastings? Were it not better that we tell the Queen and her following, in no fixed, courteous phrases, that we—the ancient nobility of England—will not put up with such treatment at their hands?"
To this the Chancellor replied in the affirmative; so Richard made another call upon the Queen and, after telling her the result of his conversation with Hastings (he having taken care not to mention Buckingham's name) asked the Queen what answer he might have the honor to take to the Chancellor.
Now whilst Gloucester had been consulting with Buckingham and Hastings (which conversation I have just put down, and which I had from Harleston, who got it from a page, which had been concealed in the room whilst they were talking) the Queen had been consulting with her son, the Marquis of Dorset, and was therefore resolved to hold firmly unto her plans.
"Tell Lord Hastings that I will not countermand the order I have sent unto my brother."
"But, madam, he threatens to return to Calais unless this be done."
"What! doth he threaten? Let him go to Calais, and there may he abide; methinks that England can manage without him better than can he without her;" and the Queen, as she said these words, arose and looked like a defiant lioness defending her cub.
"It is my poor opinion that thou art making a mistake in thus opposing a man of such influence; however, I will tell Lord Hastings that your Majesty hath fully made up your mind to not withdraw the order."
Hazel, who was present during this interview, told me that Richard, as he said this speech, looked so kind and gentle that it was well nigh impossible for her to believe what I had told her of his cruelty.
This wrangling went on for a whole week.
Gloucester was always careful to not bring himself into any of these disputes; but to place himself as the messenger from one side to the other.
At length one day Gloucester brought word to the Queen that Hastings had decided to himself take up arms and forcibly prevent Lord Rivers from escorting the young King to London, with an army.
This was the final blow. The poor Queen could resist no longer; so she consented to write to her brother and instruct him to bring only a sufficient retinue to sustain the dignity of the King, who was to be brought unto Westminster Palace, where the Queen would be ere her little son did there arrive.
Harleston was chosen as her messenger; so that was how it came about that he followed me to Ludlow.
Now I will tell of other matters which happened whilst I was absent from court; and this part, although it does not bear on history, was of the utmost importance to me; for it was but the prologue to the history of my greatest troubles, as ye shall learn anon.
The second morning after I had left Windsor, Hazel, feeling quiet, as she afterwards told me, strolled out into the park, that she might be alone. She seated herself in a secluded place beneath a beech tree, whose fresh new garments were fluttering in the soft and tender breeze of Spring. Bright and young were they, as she; yet why did not she feel as bright as did those green, fluttering young leaves o'er head? Still she did not, and her heart felt heavy and weary. Remember, this was the day after Gloucester's two interviews with the Queen, and she felt an inspiration which told her that trouble was brewing.
Looking back, she thought how happy her life had been before King Edward's death had cast a gloom o'er everything. She could not help thinking that the life at court would now be very different. Instead of the Queen having her way, the nobles, no longer held in check by the firm hand of Edward, would have control of everything. Here was the King scarce buried, and already Hastings had commenced to show his authority. All the life would be gone from the court, and instead of the round of amusements that the Queen had kept agoing, every thing should now be quiet, morose and cold.
How she did wish that I were back. She wondered when I would return, and if I still intended to remain at court, or would I ask her to fulfil the promise she had made me, to some day meet me at the altar. Indeed she wished the time would soon fly past till I should again return.
With these and kindred thoughts she had been so taken up that she had not heard the sound of approaching footsteps.
"Oh! I am so tired of this life at court. I wish I were away from it," said she, speaking aloud.
"Indeed I agree with thee, Lady Hazel. 'Tis not the life which best suits thee nor me."
She turned with a start and there, leaning over the back of the bench upon which she was sitting, stood Catesby. A smile was upon his face as he noted her startled expression. His right arm he still carried in a sling, and the sleeve of his doublet hung loose at his side.
"Well, sir, by what right dost thou come aspying upon ladies?" asked Hazel, as she arose and gazed upon him haughtily, and curled her lip in scorn.
"'Twas Cupid led me here, fair lady. Deform not that lovely mouth with such a scornful sneer; those lips of thine were never made for other purpose than the tender work of kissing." Then, as she turned her back and started to leave him, he hurried around the bench and stood in front of her, thus compelling her to stop.
"Stand aside, thou impudent cur, or thou shalt regret thine act," said Hazel, as she commenced to be frightened.
"Why, thou wilt not kill me with those flashes from thine eyes?" asked the scoundrel, as he stood and smiled in her face.
"No, but thou shalt answer for it to the one which made thee to wear thine arm, as best becomes thee—in a noose, and where thy neck should be."
"Ho, ho! sets the wind there? I might have known so much," said he, as he sneered, and shrugged his one sound shoulder.
"Be assured sir, thou shalt know more ere thou hast heard the last of this," said my dear maid, as she again turned to leave the knave.
"Nay, not so fast, my fair one. In sooth you escape not so;" and he tried to seize her by the arm.
But Hazel was now thoroughly frightened, and she avoided his hand and commenced to run. He sprang after her and caught her firmly by the wrist; but she, seeing that she was fairly caught, struggled like a tigress, and broke loose. Hotly did he pursue her, and again tried to seize her arm. She, however, swung quickly around a large oak. In following he struck his wounded shoulder against the tree; the wound, but partly healed, must have broken open afresh, for, with a groan, he fell down in a faint, as though by the hand of God. Hazel got but a glimpse of him as he fell; for she slackened not her pace until she reached her room and threw herself upon her bed, and burst out aweeping.
Gentle cousin Mary at last succeeded in comforting her; but after that the dear maids did not again walk in that park, until some great changes had been wrought at court, and throughout all England; and then, when they did go, they were guests, without attachment to the court.
Mary had told Harleston all about Hazel's experience with Catesby; so it was from him that I heard it.
When he had finished I leaped to my feet and swore an oath, which methinks it best not to set down in writ, as it might not have a good effect upon the morals of some of my younger grandsons.
"Calmly, my friend, calmly," said Frederick, in his quiet way; "have patience; thou shalt yet have an opportunity for making the scoundrel pay dearly for his act."
"Hell and furies! Harleston, speak not to me of being calm. Do but think of that dear girl being subject to such insults. By Heaven I swear I shall never rest in peace until I have caused his death!" and I tore about the room, stamping my feet, and overturning whatever furniture I did come across. "Heaven, why are such dogs permitted to live? Harleston, I would give my right hand to but have that low-lived knave by the throat." Here I clasped my hands, in a grip of steel and tried to imagine that I held him by the neck. 'Twas my wounded arm that stopped me from this practice.
When my passion had somewhat abated my friend asked me when I thought it likely that Lord Rivers would take the King to London.
"Indeed I know not," I replied; "but one thing is certain, and that is if he does not start at once I will set out alone. I cannot bear to think of what might happen unto my poor dear girl, whilst I am away from her side. That Catesby dare do anything; and that rogue, Gloucester, would back him up in all his villainy; for he hath been mighty friendly with the accursed dog of late. I know not what his object may be; but as I think, he doth intend to use him in order that he may win Hasting's friendship."
We spent the greater part of that afternoon in walking through the town of Ludlow, which Harleston had never seen before.
That night we sat up until a late hour, and talked of all the strange actions of those in power, and made surmises as to what the next move should be; but even our most pessimistic predictions fell far short of the reality.
When at length I fell asleep I had fully made up my mind to ask Lord Rivers, early the next morning, for his permission to leave for London that day, as I had private business to attend to.
However, many strange things did happen ere I did again see Hazel.