I, Walter Bradley, then a faithful servant of his Majesty King Edward IV, was sitting one evening in my room at the palace of the aforesaid King, at Windsor, engaged in the examination of some of mine arms, to make sure that my servants had put them all in proper order for our expedition into Scotland, with the King's brother, the Duke of Gloucester. A knock came at my door and, upon opening, I beheld Lord Hastings, then the Chancellor of the Kingdom, and at his side a gentleman which I had not before seen. This stranger was a man of splendid physique, about mine own height; long, light brown, waving hair; blue eyes, that looked me fairly in mine own; sharp features; and yet, with all his look of unbending will, and proud bearing, he had a kindly expression in his honest eyes.
"This is my young friend, Sir Frederick Harleston, just now arrived from Calais," said Hastings, as they both entered at mine invitation, and he introduced us to each other.
The Chancellor stayed but until he got our conversation running freely, and then he spoke of some business of state that did demand his immediate attention, and left us to become better acquainted.
Of course the expedition into Scotland was the chiefest subject of our conversation; and I learned from Harleston that he too did intend accompanying the Duke, as the King had that day granted him the desired permission.
"And what kind of man is Duke Richard?" asked my new acquaintance, when we had at length discussed the other leaders of our forces.
"Hast thou never seen him?"
"Ay, I have seen him, though I am unknown to him; but I mean what kind of man is he inwardly, not physically?"
"As for that, I do not care to speak. Thou, no doubt, hast heard of some of his Royal Highness' acts; men must be judged but by their acts, and not by the opinions of such an one as I," I replied cautiously; for I hesitated to express mine own opinion—the which, in this case, was not the most favourable—to one which I had but just met. Remember, my dears, those were times in which a silent tongue lived longer than did a loose one.
Harleston's color heightened, but with a smile, he said:—"Thou art in the right. 'Twas impertinent of me to ask thee, who know me not, a question of that sort. I had forgot that this is England, and not Calais; for there we discuss, freely, the King, as though he were but a plain man."
The frankness of this man, together with his polite and gentlemanly speech, made me to feel ashamed of my caution, so I said:—"Duke Richard hath never been popular with the friends of her Majesty the Queen; though of late he hath made himself liked better by them, than he was for many a long day."