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.