Red and White: A Tale of the Wars of the Roses

by Emily Sarah Holt

It was at the battle of St. Albans—the first fought between the rival Roses—that Dorathie's grandfather had been killed; the husband of the stately old lady who remained head of the household at Lovell Tower. His barony descended to his only daughter Margery, who, after a good deal of hesitation among rival suitors who greatly admired her title and fortune, had gradually awoke to the discovery that she liked nobody quite so well as her old friend John Marston, though he was nearly twice her age, and a widower with three children. So on him, with the full consent of her mother, she bestowed hand and heart, title and fortune; the former being in his eyes, alone of all her lovers, more valuable than the latter. In her right he became Lord Marnell of Lymington, for until a comparatively recent period the title of a peeress in her own right was held to become the property of her husband as absolutely as her goods, and was conferred by courtesy, as a matter of necessity, upon any second wife whom he might marry. Two more children—Dorathie and Ralph—were added to the family: but only the former now survived. It will thus be seen that Frideswide and Agnes were half-sisters of Dorathie. The other member of the family not yet introduced was Walter, the eldest son. He was at present a young squire in the household of Queen Marguerite.

Every soul at Lovell Tower was passionately Lancastrian. To them Henry VI. was The King, and Edward IV. was "the rebel." In the house of the next knight, half a mile away, the conditions were reversed: and the two families, who had been old and firm friends, now passed each other on the road with no notice whatever. Very painful was this state of things to the Lady Idonia, the only sister of four brothers thus placed at variance. Her two younger brothers, Maurice and William, were still on good terms with her, for they were Lancastrians like herself. But the Carew family was one of those which the political earthquake had shattered, and Hugh and Thomas were determined Yorkists. It was the sadder—or should have been,—since the younger Lady Marnell had been educated under the roof of her Uncle Hugh, during the prolonged residence of her parents at the Court of Scotland. Fortunately or unfortunately, Uncle Hugh and Aunt Mabel had contrived to impress themselves on the mind of young Margery in no other character than that of live barricades against the accomplishment of all her wishes. To be otherwise than on speaking terms with them, therefore, was a much smaller calamity to Margery than to her mother. The Lady Idonia used to sigh heavily when their names were mentioned. Yet to keep up the friendship would have been no easy matter. Hugh Carew was granite where his convictions were concerned; and not content with following them himself, he insisted on imposing them on every body who came near him. It would have been in his eyes a matter of principle not to allow his sister or his niece to speak of "the King" or "the rebel," without letting them see that he wilfully misunderstood the allusion. Idonia merely sighed ever this piece of perversity, while yet their intercourse remained unbroken: but Margery was apt to flare up and make an open breach of the peace. It certainly was trying, when she spoke of the King (meaning Henry VI.) as in Scotland, to be reminded in a cold, precise tone, slightly astonished, that she had unaccountably forgotten that His Highness was at Westminster. It is not therefore to be wondered at, if Margery felt the open hostility rather a relief than a burden, while her mother grieved over it in secret.

"'Tis strange gear," the Lady Idonia would sometimes say, "that men cannot think alike."

"Nay, fair Sister, why should they so?" was her brother William's answer. "This were tame world if no man saw by his own eyes, but all after a pattern."

"That were well, Ida," replied the graver Maurice, "could all men see through God's eyes."

"Aye, and who shall dare say how He looketh on these matters?" rejoined William.

"Know we not that?" said Maurice. "'The righteous Lord delighteth in righteousness; His countenance beholdeth equity.'"[#]

[#] Psalm xi. 8.

"On which side is the equity?" asked his brother with a shrug of his shoulders. "Somewhat scant on both, as methinks. My Lords of Warwick and Somerset are scarce they which, before giving battle, should look through a speculation glass[#] to find the righteousness of the matter."

[#] Magnifier.