RICHARD TRIUMPHS
When Gloucester discovered how he had been duped by the Queen his
feelings can better be imagined than described. However, he was too
clever a man, by far, to show his disappointment openly, or even to let
the world know that he had been outwitted. He had the audacity to have
the statement quietly circulated, in such a manner as to give to each
person the impression that he was the trusted possessor of a state
secret, that an attempt had been made to abduct the Duke of York, but
that it had miscarried. "Therefore," said the Duke's friends, "it has
become necessary for the Lord Protector, in the proper fulfilment of
his duties of the high office with which the people have honoured him,
to take every precaution to prevent another attempt of the same kind
from being more successful."
"Yea," said the gossips, who were no doubt paid by the Protector, "'tis
even feared that the King himself may be the object of their next
attempt. Therefore the good Lord Protector, in his wisdom, and by
reason of his great solicitude for the safety of the King--his lord and
master--hath deemed it best that both the young King and his little
brother, the Duke of York, be placed in safety, within the strong walls
of the noble Tower that Caesar,--though a heathen, was yet no doubt the
instrument of God,--laid the foundations of. And, unquestionably, the
Lord foresaw just such a necessity for such a strong place of safety
when he compelled that ancient pagan to thus work for his ends."
When my friend and I heard this news, my children, our hearts were
indeed sad. Remember, my dears, we knew not whether the statement that
the little Duke had been taken by Gloucester were true or no. At first
we thought it but a device of Gloucester's to hold the confidence of
the people; but upon more careful consideration we came to the
conclusion that even the Protector could scarcely have the audacity to
thus risk the consequences of such a deception being discovered, which,
according to the rules of all common sense, it must in time be. This
conclusion in no wise served to relieve our feelings of disappointment
and sorrow, on the Queen's account. We could not help but feel in some
measure responsible for the revenge of Gloucester for the attempt made
by the Queen to have her son escape him; for such we considered the
confinement of the Princes to the Tower.
However, on the day following the King's removal to the prison we again
visited the Sanctuary, or rather some of its inmates, and were rejoiced
to learn that the Queen had received a letter from Dorset, which
informed her of the successful manner in which they had escaped, not
only capture, but even suspicion. Consequently we found the Queen in a
most happy state of mind. This contentment was doomed to be short
lived, for we were reluctantly compelled to inform her of her son's
imprisonment and of the reports circulating about the Duke of York's
attempted abduction.
* * * * *
However, we had no great time in which to wonder what was Gloucester's
object in thus causing the young King to be placed under restraint, and
the report to be circulated that his brother kept him company.
The next news to startle the court, and cause consternation among the
friends of the Queen and exultation in the ranks of her adversaries,
was the condemnation of the three unhappy prisoners at Pomfret--Rivers,
Grey and Vaughan.
Again was it our unhappy duty to be the bearers of this most heavy news
to that poor woman of woe, the unfortunate wife of the great Edward.
"What new sorrow do ye bring me now; for well do I know that
countenances painted thus heavy with the brush of sadness must be but
the dark covers to another book of woe?" said her Majesty, as my friend
and I, whose sole duties now seemed to be the bearing of heavy news,
were shown into her presence.
"Uncommon bad news we bring, madam;" I replied; "yet it is such as we
might all have expected, and therefore do I hope that your Majesty may
bear it better than thou couldst have done had it been unexpected."
* * * * *
When we had finished the relation of this latest tale of Richard's
vengeance on the faithful to the Queen her Majesty seemed stupefied
with grief. She sat as one who hath just received a heavy blow with
the flat side of a sword,--dazed and benumbed and still incapable of
raising protest against the causer of the pain. Then with her hand she
feebly tried to brush away from before her eyes some cloud that did
obstruct her vision. A look of hopeless resignation then settled on
her features, and two silent tears ran slowly down her cheeks. A heavy
sigh, like the parting of a soul from its earthy home and comrade,
escaped her, and she asked in a voice in which was nothing but the tone
of resigned indifference:--"When do they die?"
"This day, madam; even now."
"I had scarce looked for such expediency," she remarked, without the
least emotion.
"What do ye think Gloucester's intentions may be with regard to my son,
the King?" she asked in that unnatural voice.
"Oh, madam," I replied, glad at last to be able to tell her something
not unhappy, "even now the Counsellors are met within the Tower to
decide upon the coronation of his Majesty."
"And doth Lord Hastings there attend?"
"He does, madam."
"And the Protector, I presume?"
"Ay, madam, the Duke of Gloucester seems bent on having his Majesty's
coronation take place at once; and therefore, at least so says report,
he doth attend in person that his presence there may urge the
Counsellors to set an early day for the ceremony; 'For,' say the
Protector's confidants, 'the Duke desires to have the weight of full
responsibility, that now rests upon his shoulders, in a considerable
measure lightened.' But, madam," I added, "it is for thee to judge the
weight of these reports."
"Hastings," said her Majesty, without taking any apparent note of my
remark, "though he doth dislike me much, still, methinks, is loyal to
my son, if for no other reason than for the favours the boy's father
showed him, even against my pleasure."
Then, after sitting silent whilst one might tell an hundred, she spoke
out suddenly, as though she thought aloud:--"Surely his uncle dare not
harm my pretty Edward! Oh, no! not while my little Richard doth remain
to be his avenger," she added, with a smile of satisfaction.
The Queen had evidently forgot the presence of her woeful messengers,
so absorbed was she in her deep train of thought.
"A pleasant thing it is indeed to be the widow of a King, and the
mother of a King," she said, again speaking to her heart. "Great,
powerful, respected, happy. Ha, ha, ha! Yes, respected and happy.
"Hush! fear not; he shall not harm thee. Thou art with thy mother; and
thy mother is the Queen. We had to fly to Sanctuary before, when
Margaret had success. But look how thy father did defeat her, and
again we came to power. Thy father is the King, and a great and
gallant warrior. Again will he trample on his enemies. There, there,
fear not, all things shall be well, all things shall be well. There's
a good pet; go to sleep in thy mother's arms as thou didst years ago,"
and she patted an imaginary child in the gentle, soothing way known
only to a mother.
I glanced enquiringly at Harleston.
He nodded.
We walked on tip-toe to the door, and stole softly from the room.
The sorrow of this woman was too sacred to be looked on by vulgar
mortal eyes.
"What punishment can be severe enough to repay the causer of such woe
for his accursed acts?" I asked of my friend, when we were alone in the
room adjoining the one we had just left.
"Fear not," he replied; "his punishment must overtake him.
"Gloucester is clever. But no man is so clever that he can deceive the
whole world for long. 'Tis possible to do so for a time; and
Gloucester is doing it. But wait," added Harleston; "success is like
everything else in this world; each man has a certain amount allotted
to him when he begins life. If carefully husbanded, and put to a
proper use, it multiplies. But let the possessor use it in an improper
manner and the supply is soon cut off. 'Tis like the pulling of a
heavy boat through the water, by means of a slender line; if pulled
gently, and with great care, success must crown your efforts. But
attempt to force the vessel faster through the water, and the line
parts and the boat is lost. Richard is now attempting to draw in the
ship of power, laden with the cargo of sovereignty. He hath a firm
hold on the line. There are many obstacles betwixt the ship and
Gloucester. By patience, more than that possessed by mortals, these
all might be removed. But Richard, encouraged by his success in
brushing some aside, will pull harder on the line. It cannot bear the
strain of this impatient force. It breaks, and Gloucester tumbles from
his height of audacity, to be dashed to pieces on the rocks of
consequence."
"Dost thou then think he will dare to usurp the throne, now that the
King's young brother hath escaped falling into his power?" I asked.
"Why not?" he replied.
"That which the Queen said methinks is true; Hastings will be loyal;
but after the example we have to-day, the execution of Rivers, Grey and
Vaughan, what may we expect from the Chancellor's influence? Were he
to oppose the Protector he might be the next to post to Heaven. No,"
continued my friend, "we must not look for succour, from the tyranny of
Richard, to any source but the whole people. They, when they are all
united, have the power to force him to do right. But no single noble
is sufficiently powerful to cope successfully with Gloucester."
"But how long must this crime and tyranny endure, ere a period be put
to them?"
"Not long. Richard is now building a tower of crime. Such structures
are but frail houses in which to dwell. Presently a strong tempest of
popular indignation will sweep across the land; the structure must
fall, and the builder shall be crushed beneath the ruins. He is
building it in great haste; therefore it shall fall the sooner."
Harleston spoke with such confidence, as though the whole scene had
been enacted before his eyes, that one could not help but believe him
to be right.
Just then the girls entered. This put an end to our gloomy
conversation, for which I, for one, was glad. The close life of the
Sanctuary was now beginning to make the effects of its work visible in
the paler hues and careworn looks of the girls' faces.
"Oh, Walter dear, I am so tired of this life of sorrow!" said Hazel,
when we had strolled to that part of the room most distant from Mary
and Frederick.
"Yes, my fair one, and I can see no reason why thou shouldst forever
share the sorrows and burdens of others, even though they are the
troubles of those which thou lovest well. When the present situation
may change, God alone can tell.
"Remember the promise that thou didst make, when we lived in happier
times. When our path seemed flooded with the light of Heaven. Then
came this heavy cloud, that seemeth ever to grow blacker. Let us sweep
on from beneath its chilling shadow, and let the sun of love and
happiness, as we stroll among the flowers, beneath the trees of our
joint home, drive away the troubled memories of this heart-chilling
imprisonment within the dreary walls of a Sanctuary, made yet more sad
by the unfortunate family which here takes refuge. Thou canst not help
them by thus sharing their sorrows, and it doth but make two other
souls unhappy." As I spoke these words the scene, drawn by my mind as
I paced back and forth across my room that happy night of the last ball
given by Edward at Windsor, when all my ambitions seemed about to be
realized, and yet when the first clouds were gathering, came again
clearly to my mind. I therefore waited, with the pain of expectation,
for Hazel to answer.
When, after a short silence, in which she seemed weighing her reasons
both pro and con granting my request, her answer came, and was partly
what I had hoped to hear, and wholly what I had expected.
"Yes, Walter, the promise that I made to thee that night, when we were
both so light of heart, and which now seemeth such a long time since, I
long to now fulfil. Yet," she continued, with a sigh, "my gratitude
for those which have ever been so kind to me doth whisper to my love
and it bids it wait, for but a little space, and show them some
sacrifice, to repay them for their kindness. Still do I promise thee,"
she continued quickly, as she saw my jaw drop in disappointment, "to
wait a short time only; and if, after the King's coronation, the
condition of the Queen's family changes not, then will I ask my dear
foster-mother for her consent to our union taking place at once."
"Wilt thou indeed?"
"Ay, indeed; though even this I fear to be selfish in me, and looketh
as though I cared not for the troubles of my friends, when I can be
happy whilst they suffer."
"Nay, not so," I replied, as some of the reasoning of Harleston came to
my mind. "Life is given but that it may be enjoyed. Some accomplish
this purpose in one way; some, another. Sorrow is sent but that it may
teach us how to enjoy happiness the better. We all must have our
sorrow. Some have more, and some less of this chastening agent's
presence. The reason for this I know not, unless it be that some of us
require a more severe training ere we are capable of following our
especial path in life, without straying off upon by-ways that nature
never intended we should tread. Some, I will admit, seem never to have
found their way. The consequence is, remorseless Nature, who departs
not from her laws, with stern hand of iron scourges him full hard.
Sometimes this drives him to his more fitting path; again it maketh him
to despair, and, filled with spleen and useless stubbornness, he
ploddeth on along a path not suited to his step, when there, within
reach of his sight, had he but turned his head, doth lie his own fair
way. Some few hills there are, of course; but these are suited to his
stature."
"By my troth thou hast been changed by Frederick into a full-fledged
philosopher," laughed Hazel. "But tell me the lesson that this should
teach to me, and why I should not longer tarry with the Queen."
"'Tis this," I replied. "Her Majesty's path is now blocked up with
obstacles. 'Tis right that thou shouldst sympathize with her, and
cheer her on. Yea, if it be within thy power to lend to her
assistance, thou art bound by the bonds of love and gratitude to give
it. Still, it is not required of thee, by either of these ennobling
masters, that thou shouldst tread her path thyself. Nay," I continued,
as I saw a look that told me I had gained my point steal o'er her face,
"'tis even wrong for thee to leave the way that Nature chose for thee
to cheer."
"Thine eloquence hath won me from the doubt that haunted me and made me
to feel ungrateful. But truly, Walter, thou must stop thy bursts of
poetic speeches, lest in the future thy songs do change the minds of
people, and Master Chaucer's wit then be forgot," and she laughed in
mine earnest face, until I joined her in her gaiety.
* * * * *
When we reached the Palace imagine our surprise and horror to learn
that Lord Hastings, whilst at the meeting in the Tower, to discuss the
coronation of young Edward, had, through some thoughtless remark
dropped in the presence of Gloucester, given to that most murderous
tyrant a poor excuse for putting on a towering rage and ordering the
execution of the Chancellor. Seized as he sat at the table of the
council he was hurried, by that murderer, Tyrrell, whose list of crimes
were now being added to with lightning swiftness, to the black-stained
block within the courtyard of the Tower, and there his head was severed
from the trunk, and the bleeding trophy carried to the Duke. A fitting
meal it was, indeed, for the vengeance of such a man to feed on.
This speech of Hastings' that had caused his soul to follow, within so
short a time, the spirits of his rivals, who met their fate at Pomfret,
served also, as I verily believe Richard had foreplanned it should, to
postpone the discussion of the young King's coronation.
"Richard hath pulled harder on the line," said Harleston, when we had
heard the complement of the news--namely, that Lord Stanley had been
wounded, by accident, during the arrest of Hastings. "Another obstacle
hath been removed from the course of his heavy ship and cargo. The
line still bears the strain. Wait with patience and expectancy: he'll
pull again; observe the result."