RECEPTION IN CORNWALL
SKELTON. 'Tis but going to sea, and, leaping ashore, cut ten or twelve
thousand unnecessary throats, fire seven or eight towns, take half a
dozen cities, get into the market-place, crown him. Richard the Fourth,
and the business is finished.
FORD.
Am I not king?
Awake, thou coward majesty! thou sleepest.
Is not the king's name forty thousand names?
SHAKSPEARE.
These doughty leaders drew out their followers in a plain just without
Bodmin. There were about two hundred men decently clad from the remnants
of the mercer's wares, tolerably well armed and disciplined by Trereife;
this troop obtained the distinction of being selected as King Richard's
body-guard. Skelton was their captain, a rare commander, whose real
merit was that he felt happiest when stuck close as a burr to Trereife;
for at heart he was an arrant coward, though a loud braggart, and talked
of slaying his thousands, while the very wounding of his doublet had
made him wince.
Heron was brave in his way; a true Cornishman, he could wrestle and cast
his antagonist with the strength of a lion; he loved better, it is true,
to trust to his arm than to his sword, which, in spite of his strength,
Trereife always made fly from his hand in their fencing lessons; not the
less did he consider himself a gallant knight, and had cut up many a
yard of crimson cramoisy to make a rich suit for himself. He wore
Monina's glove in his cap and large yellow roses at his knees; he called
himself generalissimo, and marshalled under him full three thousand men,
who in truth had
Never set a squadron in the field
Nor the division of a battle knew
More than a spinster;
but they were sturdy discontented spirits, who valued life at its worth,
which was even nothing to them, who had laboured with all their hearts,
till labour was of no avail, and who then left the mine and the furrow
to carry their loud complaints to the foot of Henry's throne--they were
better pleased with the prospect of overthrowing it.
"Now, my masters, make yourselves heard," cried Heron, as he shuffled
down a little eminence on a short-legged Welsh pony, the only steed he
found he could back in safety. "His grace is within ear-shot, so you be
loud. Long life to King Richard!--down with the taxes--Saint Michael
and Cornwall for ever!"
The din was prolonged, ended, began, went on, as the prince arrived at
the summit of the hill with his little train--fair Katherine was at his
side--Plantagenet, O'Water, De Faro, with some dozen soldiers who fled
from Waterford; sure never invader came so ill equipped. On the hill-top
the illustrious wanderers paused, Richard hastily scanned the
rough-suited multitude--then, turning to Plantagenet, "Cousin," he
said, "you told me that the insurgent army would be drawn out for my
view; is it not strange that yonder rabble should hide it from us? As
far as my eye can reach, I see no martial discipline, no banners, no
lordly crest; fie on those drums! they have no touch of military
concord. What makes our army so slack of duty, cousin?"
Though no fault of his, Edmund blushed deeply in very shame--the
approach of Heron, Skelton, Trereife, and three or four other principal
rebels, cut off his reply. It had been agreed that Skelton, who had a
gift of eloquence, should speak, and many words he used to welcome his
liege. "We will have every man with a red rose in his cap, in a drag
chain, please your grace, and give a sound lesson to the saucy burghers
of Exeter withal. Not a knight shall live in the land, but of your
majesty's dubbing. We have but to put to rout King Henry's army, to hang
the false loon for a traitor, and to set fire to London and the
Parliament. Such nobles as please to doff their silken cloaks, and don
miners' jackets, may work, the rest shall hang. Their mere wardrobes,
bless the day! will find us and your grace in cloth of gold, embroidery,
and other rich garniture to the end of our lives."
"We thank your zeal, my worthy master," said Richard, courteously; "if
our good troops do half your saying, King Henry must look to it."
"Are those men to be worse than their word?" cried Skelton. "There is
not one among us but has the arms of ten. We are of a race of giants,
please your majesty, and could knock the walls of Exeter down with, our
fists. Please you to enter Bodmin, whose very stones will cry for King
Richard louder than King Hal's cannon;--to-morrow, God willing, we are
for the wars."
The royal party passed on--the dark ferocity or sturdy obstinacy
painted on the faces of the ill-armed rout, struck Richard as he
passed--he became meditative, while Edmund, shamed and angry, his
cheeks burning, his eyes on the ground, listened in indignant silence to
Master Skelton, who fastened on him with such talk, that whether a
soldier spoke of killing doublets, or a tailor prattled of fashioning a
field of slaughter, was a riddle ill to be devised. At length they
passed the gates of Bodmin; and here was a louder cry of welcome from
the shrill voices of women, who held up their thin hands and
half-starved children, crying for vengeance on Tudor, blessing the sweet
faces of Richard and his lovely wife. York's eyes flashed again with
their wonted fires; his creative spirit had found materials here to work
some project, all poor and rude as they might seem.
They entered the town-hall; when, by some sudden revulsion, in the tide
of the crowd, every Cornishman fell back, closed the doors, and left the
wanderers alone. Something was forgotten surely; for Heron had paced
pompously up to Richard, when suddenly he turned on his heel, crying, "A
word, my masters!" and all were gone. The Lady Katherine had marked
their backing and hurrying with becoming gravity; but, when the door was
fairly shut, she could restrain no longer a heartfelt laugh. Richard
joined in her mirth, while Plantagenet strode through the hall angrily;
muttering, "an army, a rout of shirtless beggars; is this England's
reception for her king?"
"It were fine mumming," said Richard, "under a hedge with the green
sward for a stage."
"By our Lady, this passes patience!" reiterated Edmund; "where are the
gentlemen of England? Where the sons of those who fell for York? Are we
to oppose these half-naked knaves to the chivalry of Henry?"
"It would seem that such is expected," replied the prince; "and, verily,
cousin, we might do worse. I pray you, treat the honest rogues well;
better may come of it; keep we our secret, and have we not an array?"
"My lord!" cried Plantagenet, in wonder.
"Patience, dear friend," said York; "I have not been apprentice to
adversity so many long years, without becoming an adept in my calling. I
say, I have an army; bold, though poor--ragged truly, but exceeding
faithful. Methinks it were more glorious to put Tudor down with such
small means, than to meet him in equal terms, like a vulgar conqueror. I
do beseech you, Edmund, put a good face on it; speak to our Cornish
giants, as if they had souls of mettle, and bodies decked like Ponce de
Leon and his peers, when they welcomed Queen Isabel to the Spanish camp.
You remember the golden array of the knights, cousin?"
Edmund was impatient of the prince's gay humour; while Katherine, seeing
in his bright eyes heroism and lofty resolve, felt a dewy moisture
gather in her own: there is something at once awful and affecting, when
a man, the sport of fortune, meets her rudest blow unshrinking, and
turns her very spite into arms against herself. The whole secret of
Richard's present thoughts she could not divine, but she saw that their
scope was worthy of his birth, his aim: her respect--her love
augmented; and her gentle heart at that moment renewed its vow to devote
herself to him entirely and for ever.
In the same spirit, York answered the deputation that waited on him. He
commanded a proclamation to be made, in which he assumed the title of
Richard the Fourth. He announced his intention of immediately
penetrating England, and seizing on some walled town or city, before
Henry could be aware of his having landed. Nor did he confine his energy
to words; he examined the state of his men; their arms and furniture; he
provided for their better discipline, and animated his cousin to take an
active part in marshalling them to order. He went among them, learned
the causes of their dissatisfaction, promised them better days, and so
raised a glad spirit in them, that their hearts, overleaping both time
and circumstance, paid him the honour and the love he might have
claimed, had he already led them through fertile England, and planted
his victorious standard on the Tower of London. Trereife swore by his
beard, he was a proper youth; the old soldier awoke to the remembrance
of harvests of spoil he had gathered in the Netherlands, the stern
encounters and the joys of success; he gazed on the rough Cornish men,
and wondered how they should withstand the nobility of England: but,
when Richard glanced hope and triumph from his bright eyes, when he
spoke of the omnipotence of resolved valour, when he drew a picture of
their ghastly poverty, and showed them how, by standing firm merely,
they might redeem themselves;--while the poor fellows answered with a
prolonged shout, or better still, grasped their arms more fiercely, and
trod the earth with free and decided steps;--a thousand facilities
seemed to be discovered; a thousand resources for the war displayed,
undreamt of before. Were these mere words? or at his voice did soldiers
rise from the clods, and victory obey the sound?
Plantagenet, seeing his royal cousin's resolve, strove to second it.
With a party of men he assaulted a near fortress, carried it, and seized
on a store of arms. This success looked like a mighty victory; Richard
exalted it as such; and the very fellows who handled awkwardly their
booty, fancied themselves heroes at the mere sight of it.
On the third day they were to proceed to Exeter, it being determined
that they should besiege this city. De Faro offered to sail to Cork to
invite the warlike chieftains of Munster to come over with their power;
and at least himself to bring back in the Adalid, Neville, and the rest
of the English exiles. While Edmund, who looked glad at the thought,
counselled that they should entrench themselves in this corner of
England, which was so entirely devoted to them, till these forces were
added to their number, and till by discipline, they should have made
regular troops of the rabble, by courtesy ycleped an army.
"Wherefore, cousin," asked Richard, "do you desire others to share in
our disasters?"
"My lord!" cried Edmund, astounded.
"I have but one wish," continued the prince, "that you and my good
O'Water were even now in Ireland; so that I might stand the brunt of
this war alone. You look amazed. Yet it were more amazing if I expected
to do battle against the Veres, the Howards, the Berkeleys, the
Courtneys, and ten thousand other names of high renown, backed by their
train of martial adherents, with ragged regiments like those we are
about to lead to the field;--even though the kerns of Ireland made
their number double, and the Geraldines, Barry and Neville added by
their nobleness dignity to our victor's conquest. Remember Stoke, my
cousin Edmund; you may well remember it. Remember my honoured kinsman
the earl of Lincoln and my lamented Lovel. Ah! that I did not now peril
your life, then spared!"
"Yet, if your grace fight at all," said O'Water, bluntly; "methinks we
were not the worse for being better appointed for the fray. For victims,
even those poor honest varlets are too many."
"That one other life should be wasted for me," replied Richard,
fervently, "is my saddest thought. I fear it must be so; some few lives,
each as dear to him that spends it, as is the life-blood to our own
hearts, I can say no more. I have a secret purpose, I confess, in all I
do. To accomplish it--and I do believe it to be a just one--I must
strike one blow; nor fail. Tudor is yet unprepared; Exeter vacant of
garrison; with stout hearts for the work, I trust to be able to seize
that city. There the wars of York shall end. So far I confide in your
discretions, that you may not deem me mad. More is the single property
of my own soul. Will you help me so far, dear friends--so far hazard
life--not to conquer a kingdom for Richard, but to redeem his honour?"
The warm-hearted, grey-headed Irish O'Water, with gushing eyes, swore to
adhere to him the last.
Edmund replied, "I am but a bit of thee; deal with me as with thyself;
and I know thou wilt be no niggard in giving me away to danger."
De Faro cried, "I am a sailor, and know better how to face death on the
waves than victory on shore; but, Santiago! may our blessed Lady herself
look shy on me at the great day, if the mariner of the wreck prove false
to your grace."
"Now then to our work," cried York, "to speak fair to my faithful
fellows and their braggart leaders. They at least shall be winners in
our game; for my hand is on my prize; a spirit has whispered success to
me; my hope and its consummation are married even at their birth."