CHAPTER XIV
I REACH WESTMINSTER
When we reached Westminster, and neared the Palace, Lord Hastings, attended by a large following, among which I espied Catesby, came forth to meet us. As we did near them they lined the road on either side and cheered the King as we passed between these rows of English oaks. Hastings himself joined in with us and rode with Buckingham, behind the King and Gloucester. When we arrived at the Palace and dismounted Hastings approached Richard and whispered something which I did not catch, though I was standing just behind the Duke.
"When did she go?" asked Richard.
I could not hear what Hastings answered.
"And took the little Duke along?" cried the Prince, in a voice that plainly showed his annoyance. "Now by Holy Paul!" he continued, "this is indeed too much. Her Majesty doth forget herself."
"What is it, uncle, that my mother does forget?" asked the young King, who had overheard this last remark. He looked Richard firmly in the eye as he spake and held his head so high and spoke with such a dignity as had proclaimed him a King right royal, even had he been dressed in the garb of a rag monger.
"Ah, your Majesty, thy mother, I am sad to say, hath not stayed to greet her son and King; when I said she had forgot herself I meant to say that she had forgot her duty, which was to stay and welcome thee, after thy long absence from her sight. And besides not being near herself, which were in itself strange, she hath taken with her all of thy dear sisters, and his Grace of York, thy brother."
"No doubt my mother had good cause for her act, and I do not wish to hear her criticized," said Edward, with great heat. "But uncle," he asked, in a more gentle tone, when he saw the look of pain on Gloucester's face, "whither hath she gone?"
"To the Sanctuary over yonder, so my Lord of Hastings tells me."
"But why should she take Sanctuary, as though this were a time of war and bloodshed?"
"Nay, that I cannot tell your Majesty. 'Twas this strange act that made me to say—more in surprise than with premeditation—that thy Royal mother had forgot herself; for which offense I crave my master's pardon," said Richard with prodigious meekness. He stood with uncovered head before the little King and looked, so to perfection, the saint which thinks he hath transgressed, and humbly prays for pardon, that not one there—besides some few who knew the man—but thought him the meekest soul in England.
"Indeed, mine uncle, I meant not to be cross with thee; when I spoke I knew not the hurt that my words did carry to thee; and besides, now that I understand the matter, I wonder not that thou didst express thy surprise. Indeed 'tis strange that my mother so should flee to Sanctuary, as though her son were to be considered as her enemy."
This, no doubt, was the object Gloucester had aimed at when he sued so meekly for his pardon. He desired to win the King over to his side, and make him to believe that 'twas from her son she fled. It was now more easy for me to read his object in his manner, since his treachery with Rivers and the others.
We then entered the Palace, where Richard called a council to decide what measures should be taken in order that the Duke of York might be brought to keep company with his brother.
"For," said Gloucester, "'tis an insult to his Majesty, to thus fly from him as though he had the plague. Indeed his Royal Highness of York must be returned at once to his proper place, beside his brother. If this news be bruited abroad," continued he, "'twill make England precious ridiculous in the eyes of all Europe."
Cardinal Bouchier and the Bishop of York were present at this council.
"And what course wouldst thou advise me to pursue, that I may succeed in releasing the little Duke from his involuntary imprisonment?" asked Richard, speaking to the Cardinal.
"Ah! your Royal Highness, it may be very difficult, indeed, to change the mind of the Queen. Thou knowest as well as I how wilful is her Majesty, when she hath once made up her mind."
"Let her not dare to match her strength against me," cried Gloucester, who now spoke more freely, as the King had left the room. "By Saint Paul! if she doth not hand the boy over unto his legal protector I shall be compelled to take him by force, which I do not like to do."
"Ah! good my lord, commit not the sin of using force on those who have taken refuge in God's place of protection, where the vilest criminal need fear no harm!" cried both the Churchmen, with one voice.
"Yes," returned Richard, with his cunning smile, "but, most reverend sirs, the Duke of York hath committed no offence, and therefore he has not the rights of Sanctuary; and, on that account, the Queen must expect force, if she consents not to return him when politely requested, by two such worshipful gentlemen, to do so."
If the Churchmen were looking for some excuse to enable them to agree with Richard they now had found one. "Ah! your Royal Highness, who but thyself could have thought of such a reason?"
"Who indeed?" thought I, but with a different meaning.
"The point is well taken," consented the Bishop of York. "The Prince, thy nephew, having committed no sin, has—under the customs of Holy Church—no right nor reason for taking Sanctuary; and besides," he continued, "I understand that he hath no desire to remain in seclusion, and is but detained there by her Majesty, his mother."
"This she hath no right to do," broke in Richard. "Was not I appointed the protector of these children, by my Royal brother? And does the Queen take it upon herself thus to assume mine office?" With this Gloucester arose and walked back and forth across the room; his left arm drawn up, and his thumb stuck in his belt, as was his usual custom. With his right hand he played with his dagger; drawing it partly from its richly jewelled sheath, and then returning it with a sharp "snick," thus keeping time with his limping step. As he walked he kept up a continual string of sharp speeches against the Queen, like the discharge from a company of archers, each arrow having its mark to strike. "Ha! Saint Paul, one might think the Protector of England an office of but little weight. Old Louis will have grand amusement at our expense. The King's brother not at the coronation, but hidden away, as though his Majesty were a tyrant. 'Tis monstrous! And the sacrilege of this act. A boy, not yet nine years of age, which could never have committed an offence, hidden in a house of God as though it were a fortress. Ha! my Lord Cardinal," said he, as he stopped suddenly before that most reverend gentleman, "the slight is as great to thee as it is to me. What sayst thou? Shall we submit meekly, whilst others walk over us and break the laws of our several charges; or shall we demand the person of the Duke, and, if he be not handed over gently, then rescue him by force?"
"Most certainly I do agree with his Royal Highness, and think 'tis an outrage for the Queen to take the stand she hath," said the Bishop, who evidently desired to curry favor with Gloucester by agreeing with him. "Of course," he added, methought a little nervously, "if her Majesty consents to quietly restore the little Duke, so much the better; then no precedent need be set for using force to obtain those which have taken refuge in a Sanctuary."
"And what says my Lord Hastings?" asked Richard, as he turned to that nobleman, who had not yet expressed his opinion.
"I am of the same opinion as these most holy gentlemen. If her Majesty can be persuaded to hand over the Duke, peacefully, so much the better; if not, why then use force," replied the Chancellor.
During all this conversation Catesby—who was present—stood beside Hastings, as a dog by its master. Whenever he caught mine eye he stared so impudently that I had much ado to restrain myself from walking across the room and letting the low-lived hound feel the weight of my hand. All that which Harleston had told me of his insults to Hazel was brought to my mind with double its former force, and almost drove me mad.
"Oh, I will twist thy neck for thee at the first opportunity," said I, not knowing that I said it half aloud, till Harleston, who was standing at my side, poked me in the ribs with his elbow.
"Hush!" said he, "or thou shalt be overheard."
This recalled me to myself, and I took good care thereafter not to think aloud when in the presence of men that I regarded as mine enemies.
The moment that Catesby saw Harleston check me he leaned over the Chancellor's shoulder and whispered something in his ear. I know not what it was; but it must have referred to us, for Hastings turned at once and eyed me suspiciously. His gaze was anything but pleasant; for he clearly showed his displeasure at something, by his long and frowning look.
"Another debt I owe thee, Master Catesby," said I, taking good care, however, that I did not pronounce the words by other agents than my mind.
So it was there decided that the two Churchmen should go together, and try to persuade the Queen to hand over the Duke of York to them. In case this failed they were to inform her that Gloucester would have him taken from her by force.