THE COUNT OF CHAROLOIS.
Clothed in the most splendid array with which he had been able to
provide himself, his tight-fitting hose displaying to the highest
advantage his graceful yet powerful limbs, with the coat of black
silk, spotted with flowers of gold, cut wide, but gathered into
numerous pleats or folds round the collar and the waist, and confined
by a rich girdle to the form, while the sleeves, fashioned to the
shape of the arm, and fastened at the wrist, showed the strong contour
of the swelling muscles, Richard of Woodville stood before the door of
the inn, as handsome and princely a man in his appearance as ever
graced a royal court. Over his shoulders he wore a short mantle of
embroidered cloth, trimmed with costly fur, the sleeves of which,
according to the custom of the day, were slashed down the inner side
so as to suffer the arm to be thrust out from them, while they, more
for ornament than use, hung down to the bend of the knee. On his feet
he wore the riding boots of the time, thrust down to the ankle;
and--in accordance with a custom then new in the courts of France and
Burgundy, but which ere long found its way to England--his heavy sword
had been laid aside, and his only arm was a rich hilted dagger,
suspended by a gold ring from the clasp of his girdle. His head was
covered with a small bonnet, or velvet cap, ornamented by a single
long white feather, showing that he had not yet reached knightly rank;
and round it curled in large masses his glossy dark-brown hair.
Likewise, arrayed with all the splendour that the young gentleman's
purse had permitted him to procure, six of his servants stood ready by
their horses' sides to accompany him to the dwelling of the Count of
Charolois; and a glittering train they formed, well fitted to do
honour to Old England in the eyes of a foreign court. It was evident
enough that they were all well pleased with themselves; but their
self-satisfaction was of the cool and haughty kind, so common to our
countrymen, partaking more of pride than vanity. They looked down
upon others more than they admired themselves; and, unlike the French
or the Burgundians, seemed to care little what others thought of
them,--quite contented with feeling that their garb became them, and
that, should need be, they could give a stroke or bide a buffet with
the best.
The horse of Richard of Woodville--not the one which had borne him
from the coast, but a finer and more powerful animal--was brought
round; and turning for a moment to Ella Brune, who stood with a number
of other gazers at the door of the inn, the young Englishman said, "I
will not be so careless and forgetful to-day, Ella; but will bring you
back tidings of your kinsman, without farther fault."
Then springing on his charger's back he rode lightly away, while the
poor girl gazed after him, with a deep sigh struggling at her heart,
and suppressed with pain, as she thought of the many eyes around her.
At the gate of the Graevensteen, orders had been already given to
admit the young Englishman into the inner court; and, riding on,
Richard of Woodville dismounted near the door which led to the
apartments of Sir Philip de Morgan. A man who was waiting at the foot
of the stairs, ran up them as soon as he saw the train, and before
Woodville could follow, the envoy of the King of England came down,
followed by a page. He greeted his young countryman with even marked
courtesy, suffered his eye to rest with evident pleasure upon his
goodly train, and then turning with a smile to Woodville, he
inquired,--"Do men now in England gild the bits and chains of their
horses?"
"It is a new custom, I believe," replied the young gentleman. "I gave
little heed to it, but told the people to give me those things that
would not discredit my race and country at the Court of Burgundy."
"Well, let us go thither," replied Sir Philip; "or, at least, to such
part of it as is here in Ghent. I have already advised the Count that
you are coming, and he is willing to show you all favour."
The envoy accordingly led the way across the wide court which
separated the old gate, with its gloomy towers, from the stern and
still more forbidding fortress of the ancient Counts of Flanders; and
passing first through a narrow chamber, in which were sitting some
half dozen armed guards, and then through a wide hall, where a greater
number of gentlemen were assembled in their garb of peace, the two
Englishmen approached a flight of steps at the farther end. There a
middle-aged man, with a gold chain round his neck, advanced, and
addressing Sir Philip de Morgan, inquired if the Count was aware of
their visit?
The diplomatist replied that they were expected at that hour; and the
other, pushing open the door at the top of the steps, called loudly to
an attendant within, to usher the visitors to his Lord's presence.
After a few more ceremonies of the same kind, Woodville and his
companion were introduced into the small cabinet in which the Count of
Charolois was seated. He was not alone, for two personages, having the
appearance of men of some rank, but booted and spurred as if for a
journey, were standing before him, in the act of taking their leave;
and Richard of Woodville had an opportunity of examining briefly the
countenance of the Prince, known afterwards as Philip the Good.
He was then in the brightness of early youth; and seldom has there
been seen a face more indebted to expression for the beauty which all
men agreed to admire. Taken separately, perhaps none of the features
were actually fine, except the eyes; but there was a look of generous
kindness, a softness brightened by a quick and intelligent glance, a
benignity rather heightened than diminished by certain firmness of
character, in the mouth and jaw, which was inexpressibly pleasing to
the eye. There were lines of deep thought, too, about the brow, which
contrasted strangely with the smooth soft skin of youth, and with the
rounded cheeks without a furrow or hollow, and the eyelids as
unwrinkled and full as those of careless infancy.
The Count had evidently been speaking on matters of grave moment; for
there was a seriousness even in his smile, as, rising for an instant,
while the others bowed and retired, he wished them a prosperous
journey. He was above the middle height, but not very tall; and,
though in after years he became somewhat corpulent, he was now very
slight in form, and graceful in his movements, which all displayed,
even at the early age of seventeen, that dignity, never lost, even
after the symmetry of youth was gone.
As the two gentlemen who took their leave were quitting the room, the
Count turned to Sir Philip de Morgan, bowing rather stiffly, and
noticing Woodville with a slight inclination of the head.
"This is, I suppose, the gentleman you mentioned, Sir Philip," he
said, "who has brought me letters from my royal cousin of England?"
"The same, fair sir," replied the envoy. "Allow me to make known to
you Master Richard of Woodville, allied to the noble family of
Beauchamp, one of the first in our poor island."
"He is welcome to Ghent," replied the Count. But Woodville remarked
that he did not demand the letters which he bore; and he was
hesitating whether he should present the one addressed to him, when
the Prince inquired in an easy tone, whether he had had a prosperous
journey; following up the question with so many others of small
importance, that the young Englishman judged there was something
assumed in his eager but insignificant interrogatory.
He knew not, indeed, what was the motive; but his companion, too well
accustomed to the ways of courts not to translate correctly a hint of
the kind, whether he chose to apply it or not, took occasion, at the
very first pause, to say, "Having now had the honour of introducing
this young gentleman, I will leave him with you, my Lord Count, as I
have important letters to write on the subject of our conversation
this morning."
"Do so, sir knight," replied the Prince; and he took a step towards
the door, as if to honour his departing visitor.
"Now, Master Richard of Woodville," he continued, as soon as the other
was gone, "let us speak of your journey hither; but first, if you
please, let me see the letter which you bring, and which may, perhaps,
render farther explanation unnecessary."
Richard of Woodville immediately presented the King's epistle to the
Count of Charolois, who read the contents with attention, and then
gazed at the bearer with an earnest glance. "I have heard of you
before, sir," he said, with a gracious smile, "and am most willing to
retain you on the part of Burgundy. Such a letter as this from my
royal cousin could not be written in favour of one who did not merit
high honour; and, unhappily, in these days, there are but too many
occasions of gaining renown in arms. May I ask what payment you
require for the services of yourself and your men?"
"None, noble Prince," replied Richard of Woodville: "I come but to
seek honour. If my services be good, you or your father will
recompence them as you think meet. In the meantime, all that I require
is entertainment for myself and followers at the Court of Burgundy,
wherever it may be, and the discharge of my actual expenses in time of
war, or when I am employed in any enterprise you may think fit to
intrust to me."
"I see, sir, that you are of the olden chivalry," said the Count,
giving him his hand. "You are from this moment a retainer of our
house; and I am glad," he continued, "that I have spoken with you
alone; for good Sir Philip de Morgan loves none to bring letters from
his King but himself. I may have cause to call upon you soon. Even
now, indeed,----; but of that hereafter. How many have you with you?"
"Ten stout archers," answered the young Englishman, "who will do their
duty in whatever field they may be called to, and myself. That is my
only force, but it may go far; for we are well horsed and armed, and
most of us have seen blood drawn in our own land. You said, my Lord
Count, that even now an occasion might offer--at least, so I
understood you. Now, I am somewhat impatient of fortune's tardiness,
and would not miss her favours, as soon as her hand is open."
The Count mused for a moment, and then looked up, laughing. "Well," he
said, "perhaps my mother may call me a rash boy, in trusting to such
new acquaintance; but yet I will confide in you to justify me. There
may be an occasion very soon; and if there be, I will let you have
your part. I, alas! must not go; but, at all events, have everything
ready to set out at a moment's notice; and you may chance to ride far
before many days be over. Now let us speak of other things:" and he
proceeded to ask his visitor numerous questions regarding the English
court--its habits, customs, and the characters of the principal nobles
that distinguished it.
Richard of Woodville answered his inquiries more frankly than he had
done those of Sir Philip de Morgan, and the Count seemed well pleased
with all he heard. Gradually their conversation lost the stiffness of
first acquaintance; and the young Prince, throwing off the restraint
of ceremony, gave way to the candid spirit of youth, spoke of his own
father, and of his dangerous position at the Court of France,
expressed his longing desire to take an active part in the busy deeds
that were doing, touched with some bitterness upon the conduct of the
Dauphin towards his sister, and added, with a flushed cheek, "Would my
father suffer it, I would force him, lance to lance, if not to cast
away his painted paramour, at least to do justice to his neglected
wife. She is more fair and bright than any French harlot; and it must
be a studied purpose to insult her race, that makes him treat her
thus."
"Perhaps not, noble Count," replied Richard of Woodville: "there is
nothing so capricious on this earth as the pampered heart of
greatness. Do we not daily see men of all ranks cast away from them
things of real value to please the moment with some empty trifle? and
the spoilt children of fortune--I mean Princes and Kings--may well be
supposed to do the same. God, when he puts a crown upon their heads,
leaves them to enrich it with jewels, if they will; but, alas! too
often they content themselves with meaner things, and think the crown
enough."
The Prince smiled, with a thoughtful look, and gazed for a moment in
Woodville's face, ere he replied. "You speak not the same language as
Sir Philip de Morgan," he said at length: "his talk is ever of insult
and injury to the House of Burgundy. He can find no excuse for the
House of Valois."
"He speaks as a politician, my Lord Count," replied Woodville: "would
that I might say, I speak as a friend, though a bold one. I know not
what are his views and purposes; but when you mention aught to me, I
must answer frankly, if I answer at all; and in this case I can easily
believe that the Dauphin, in the wild heat of youth, perhaps nurtured
in vice and licentiousness, and, at all events, taught early to think
that his will must have no control, may neglect a sweet lady for a
trumpery leman, without meaning any insult to your noble race. Bad as
such conduct is, it were needless to aggravate it by imaginary
wrongs."
The Count looked down in thought, and then, raising his head with a
warm smile, he answered, "You speak nobly, sir, and you may say you
are my friend; for the man who would temper a Prince's passion,
without any private motive, is well worthy of the character here
written;" and he laid his hand upon Henry's letter, which he had
placed on the table.
"I trust, my Lord Count," replied Woodville, "that you will never have
cause to say, in any case where my allegiance to my own Sovereign is
not concerned, that I do not espouse your real interests, as warmly as
I would oppose any passion, even of your own, which I thought contrary
to them. I am not a courtier, fair sir, and may express myself
somewhat rudely; but I will trust to your own discernment to judge, in
all instances, of the motive rather than the manner."
"I shall remember more of what you have said than you perhaps
imagine," answered the young Count. "You gave me a lesson, my noble
friend--and henceforth I will call you by that name--in regard to
those spoilt children of fortune, as you term them, Princes; and I
will try not to let a high station pamper me into deeds like those
which I myself condemn. But there are many persons here, in the good
town of Ghent, to whom I must make you known, as they will be your
companions for the future; and, before night, such arrangements shall
be made for your lodging and accommodation as will permit of your
taking up your abode in the old castle here. There is but one warning
I will give you," he continued: "Sir Philip de Morgan is a shrewd and
clever man--very zealous in the cause of his King, but somewhat
jealous of all other influence. My father esteems him highly, though
he is not always ready to follow whither he would lead. You had better
be his friend than his enemy; and yet, when there is anything to be
done, communicate with me direct, and not through him."
"I will follow your advice, sir, as far as may be," replied Woodville;
"but I do not think there is any great chance of Sir Philip de Morgan
and myself interfering with each other. I am a soldier; he is a
statesman. I will not meddle with his trade, and I think he is not
likely to envy me mine. He was a good man at arms, I hear, in his
early days; but I fancy he will not easily inclose himself in plate
again."
"Good faith," exclaimed the young Count, laughing, "his cuirass would
need be shaped like a bow, and have as much iron about it as the great
bombard of Oudenarde, which our good folks of Ghent call Mad Meg.[7]
No, no! I do not think that he will ever couch a lance again. But
come, my friend, let us to the hall, where we shall find some of the
nobles of Burgundy and Flanders waiting for us. Then we will ride to
my mother's, where I will make you known to her fair ladies. I have no
further business for the day; but yet I must not be absent from my
post, as every hour I expect tidings which may require a sudden
resolution."
---------------------
[Footnote 7: Dulle Grite.--This great cannon, or bombard, was forged
for the siege of Oudenarde, in 1382, and is nearly twenty feet long,
and about eleven in circumference.]
---------------------
The Prince then led the way into the large hall, through which Richard
of Woodville had passed about half an hour before; and there, was
instantly surrounded by a number of gentlemen, to whom he introduced
his new retainer. Many a noble name, which the young Englishman had
often heard of, was mentioned;--Croys, Van Heydes, St. Paul's and
Royes, Lalains, and Lignes; and from all, as might be expected, under
the circumstances in which he was introduced to them, he received a
courteous reception. It must not be denied, however, that although
chivalrous customs required a friendly welcome to every adventurous
gentleman seeking service at a foreign court, human nature, the same
in all ages, left room for jealousy of any one who might aspire to
share the favour which each desired to monopolize. Thus, though every
one was, as I have said, courteous in demeanour to Richard of
Woodville, it was all cold and formal; and many a whispered
observation on his appearance and manners, on the accent in which he
spoke the language, and on the slight difference of his dress from
that of the Burgundian court, marked a willingness to find fault
wherever it was possible. For his part, he took little notice of these
things, well knowing what he had to expect; and aware that friendship
could not be gained at once, he treated all with perfect good humour
and civility, in the hope that those who were worthy of any farther
consideration would learn in time to esteem him, and to cast away any
needless jealousy.
After passing about half an hour in the hall, the young Count selected
some five or six of the gentlemen present to accompany him on his
visit to his mother, who was lodged in the new palace, called the Cour
des Princes; and, as soon as his horses were brought round, he
descended, with the young Englishman and the rest, into the court of
the castle. He paused for a moment, where, ranged in a line by their
horses' sides, he saw the stout yeomen who had accompanied Richard of
Woodville thither; and as, with an eye not unskilful even then in
judging of thewes and sinews, he marked their light, yet powerful
limbs, with an approving smile, he turned to his new friend, saying,
in a low voice, "Serviceable stuff there, in the day of need, I doubt
not."
"I have every hope they will prove so, my good lord," replied
Woodville; and, giving them a sign, each man sprang at once into the
saddle, except the one who had led forward his young master's horse,
and held the stirrup while he mounted.
As the gay party rode along through the streets of Ghent, the
inconstant people, so often in open rebellion against their
sovereigns, shouted loud acclamations on the path of the young and
graceful Prince, who, in return, bowed low his head, or nodded
familiarly to those he knew in the crowd. The distance was but short;
but the Count took the opportunity of passing through some of the
principal streets of the town, to show the splendour of the greatest
manufacturing city at that time in the world, to the young Englishman;
and frequently he turned and asked his opinion of this or that as they
passed, or pointed out to him the magnificent shops and vast fabrics
which lined their road on either side.
There was certainly much to admire; and Richard of Woodville, not
insensible of the high importance of the arts, praised, with perhaps a
better judgment than most of the haughty nobility of the day would
have displayed, the indications of that high commercial prosperity
which the courtiers affected to hold in contempt. He would not miss
the opportunity, however, of learning something of the kinsman of Ella
Brune; and, after answering one of the observations of the Prince, he
added--"But as I came from my hostel this morning, sir, I perceive
that you have other arts carried to a notable height in the good city
of Ghent, besides that of the weavers. I passed by many a fair stall
of goldsmiths' work, which seemed to me to display several pieces of
fine and curious workmanship."
"Oh! that we have, amongst the best in the world," replied the Count;
"though, to say sooth, when we gave you a number of our weavers, to
teach you Englishmen that art, we borrowed from you in return much of
our skill in working the precious metals. Many of our best goldsmiths,
even now, are either Englishmen, or the descendants of those who first
came over. I had one right dexterous artificer, who used to dwell with
my household, and who is still my servant; but my mother's confessor
suspected him of a leaning towards heresy, and exacted that he should
be sent forth out of the castle. 'Twas but for a jest at our good
father the Pope; but poor Brune made it worse by saying, when
questioned, that as there are three Popes, all living, the confessor
might place it on the shoulders of him he liked. Many a grave man, I
have remarked, will bear anything rather than a jest; and father
Claude, from that moment, would not be satisfied till Nicholas Brune
was gone."
"Poor fellow! And what became of him?" asked Richard of Woodville; "I
have known some of his family in England."
"Oh, he is in a shop at the corner of the market, close to the castle
gate," replied the Prince, "and drives a thriving trade; so that he
has gained by the exchange--I hope, both in pocket and in prudence. I
have not heard any charge against him lately; and I do believe it was
but a silly jest, which none but an Englishman would have ventured."
Richard of Woodville smiled, but made no reply; and in a few minutes
after, they reached the gates of the palace, from which he followed
the Count of Charolois straight to the presence of Margaret of
Bavaria, Duchess of Burgundy, whom they found in an inner chamber,
surrounded by a small party of young dames and elderly knights,
devising, as the term was in those days, upon some motto which had
been laid before them.
Amongst faint traces of what had once been great beauty, the
countenance of the Princess displayed deep lines of thought and
anxiety. She smiled kindly upon the young stranger, and seemed to him
to examine his face with more attention than was ordinary, or,
perhaps, altogether pleasant. She made no remark, however, but spoke
of the Court of England with better information than her son had
displayed, and, somewhat to the surprise of the young Englishman,
evinced some knowledge of his own family and history; for, although
the Court of Burgundy at this time held the place which that of the
Count of Foix had formerly filled, and was the centre of all the news,
and, we may say, of all the gossip in Europe--though its heralds and
its minstrels made it their business, day and night, to collect all
the tales, anecdotes, and rumours of every eminent person throughout
the chivalrous world, Richard of Woodville was not aware of ever
having done anything to merit such sort of notice.
The conversation was soon turned to other subjects, and the Duchess
was in the act of giving her son an account, in a jesting tone, of
some visits which she had made that morning to several of the
religious institutions of the town, when a page entered hastily,
bearing a packet in his hand. Approaching direct to the Count of
Charolois, he presented it on his knee, saying, "From my lord the
Duke. The messenger sought you at the castle, sir, in haste, and then
came hither."
The Prince took it with an eager and anxious look, tore off the silk
and seal without stopping to cut the cord that bound it, and then read
the contents, with a countenance which expressed rather preconceived
apprehension, perhaps, than emotion caused by the intelligence which
the despatch contained. The Duchess of Burgundy remained seated, but
gazed upon her son's face with a look more sad than alarmed; and it
seemed to Richard of Woodville that, internally, she was meditating on
the future course of that fair and noble youth, amidst all the many
perils, cares, and griefs, which surrounded, in those days, the paths
of princes, rather than even on the present dangers which might affect
her husband.
There is a tender timidity in the love of woman for her offspring,
which is generated by none of the other relations of life. The
husband, or the brother, or the father, is her stay and support--he is
there to protect and to defend; and though she may tremble at his
danger, or weep for his misfortune, there may be, and often is,
some shade of selfish feeling in the dread and in the sorrow. Such
is not the case with the child: it is for him she fears, not for
herself,--for him entirely, with emotions unmixed, with devotion
unalloyed. To save any other dear one, she might readily sacrifice
life--from duty, from enthusiasm, from love. But it would still be a
sacrifice, in any other case than that of her child: to save him, it
would be an impulse.
The Duchess gazed upon the young Count's face then with calm but sad
consideration; and perhaps her own memories supplied somewhat too
abundantly the materials for fancy to raise up, without aid, a sad
model of the future. She knew that honour, or goodness, or even
courage, cannot bring security; that innocence cannot escape malice;
that virtue cannot insure peace; that wealth, and power, and a high
name, are but as butts whereon to hang the targets at which the arrows
of the world are aimed; and she feared for her son, seeing, with
prophetic eye, the life of turmoil and contention and peril that lay
before him.
As soon as he had read the letter, the Count suffered his hand to drop
by his side, and gazed upward for a moment or two in thought;--then,
turning gracefully to his mother, he took her hand with a smile, from
which was banished every trace or indication of the thoughts that he
did not choose to communicate to those around, and saying, "Dear lady
mother, we must take counsel," he led her away through a door which
those who were acquainted with the palace knew must conduct them to
the private cabinet of the Duchess.
The party which remained behind was soon separated into different
groups, some of the young nobles who had accompanied the Count taking
advantage of the absence of the persons to whom they owed most
reverence, for the purpose of saying sweet, whispered things to the
fair dames of the Court; some gathering together to inquire of each
other, and conjecture amongst themselves, what might be the nature of
the tidings received; and two or three others, of either kinder or
more pliant dispositions than the rest, seizing the opportunity of
cultivating the friendship of the young Englishman. No great time was
spent on these occupations, however; for before the Duchess and her
son had been gone more than five minutes, the Count returned, and,
looking round the circle, said, "Bad tidings scatter good company, my
lords. I must ride this very night towards Lille. We will not strip
our mother's court here of all her gallant knights and gentlemen,
especially in this wise but somewhat turbulent city of Ghent. You,
therefore, my lords of Croy, Joigny, St. George, Thyan, and Vergier,
with what men are most ready of your trains, I beseech you to give me
your fair company ere four of the clock; and you, Master Richard of
Woodville, my good friend, if you be so minded, hasten your
preparation, and join me at the castle by that hour. You may have
occasion," he continued, in a low tone, taking the young Englishman
by the arm, "to win the golden spurs, of which we have heard you
were disappointed, by no fault of your own, at the battle of
Bramham Moor. We shall be back in Ghent before the week be out--so
you can leave your baggage here, if you so please. Away then, noble
lords!--away!--for we have a long march before us, and, perhaps, a
busy day to-morrow."
All was in a moment the bustle and confusion of departure. The young
Count turned and went back to the cabinet of his mother, as soon as he
had spoken; the ladies of the Duchess rose; and, though some of them
paused for an instant, to speak a word in private to those who were
about to leave them, retired one by one. The old knights, and those
who were to remain in Ghent, walked out to see their friends and
comrades mount; and in less than five minutes the hall was cleared,
and the court-yard nearly vacant.