THE CAMP OF THE REBELS.
The rebels had halted about a mile from the town, and were already
pitching their tents for the night. It was a tumultuous, clamorous,
but not altogether undisciplined array; for Coniers was a leader of
singular practice in reducing men into the machinery of war, and where
his skill might have failed, the prodigious influence and energy of
Robin of Redesdale ruled the passions and united the discordant
elements. This last was, indeed, in much worthy the respect in which
Warwick held his name. In times more ripe for him, he would have been
a mighty demagogue and a successful regenerator. His birth was known
but to few; his education and imperious temper made him vulgarly
supposed of noble origin; but had he descended from a king's loins,
Robert Hilyard had still been the son of the Saxon people. Warwick
overrated, perhaps, Hilyard's wisdom; for, despite his Italian
experience, his ideas were far from embracing any clear and definite
system of democracy. He had much of the frantic levelism and
jacquerie of his age and land, and could probably not have explained
to himself all the changes he desired to effect; but, coupled with his
hatred to the nobles, his deep and passionate sympathy with the poor,
his heated and fanatical chimeras of a republic, half-political and
half-religious, he had, with no uncommon inconsistency, linked the
cause of a dethroned king. For as the Covenanters linked with the
Stuarts against the succeeding and more tolerant dynasty, never
relinquishing their own anti-monarchic theories; as in our time, the
extreme party on the popular side has leagued with the extreme of the
aristocratic, in order to crush the medium policy, as a common foe,--
so the bold leveller united with his zeal for Margaret the very cause
which the House of Lancaster might be supposed the least to favour.
He expected to obtain from a sovereign dependent upon a popular
reaction for restoration, great popular privileges. And as the Church
had deserted the Red Rose for the White, he sought to persuade many of
the Lollards, ever ready to show their discontent, that Margaret (in
revenge on the hierarchy) would extend the protection they had never
found in the previous sway of her husband and Henry V. Possessed of
extraordinary craft, and even cunning in secular intrigues, energetic,
versatile, bold, indefatigable, and, above all, marvellously gifted
with the arts that inflame, stir up, and guide the physical force of
masses, Robert Hilyard had been, indeed, the soul and life of the
present revolt; and his prudent moderation in resigning the nominal
command to those whose military skill and high birth raised a riot
into the dignity of rebellion, had given that consistency and method
to the rising which popular movements never attain without
aristocratic aid.
In the principal tent of the encampment the leaders of the
insurrection were assembled.
There was Sir John Coniers, who had married one of the Neviles, the
daughter of Fauconberg, Lord High Admiral, but who had profited little
by this remote connection with Warwick; for, with all his merit, he
was a greedy, grasping man, and he had angered the hot earl in
pressing his claims too imperiously. This renowned knight was a tall,
gaunt man, whose iron frame sixty winters had not bowed. There were
the young heirs of Latimer and Fitzhugh, in gay gilded armour and
scarlet mantelines; and there, in a plain cuirass, trebly welded, and
of immense weight, but the lower limbs left free and unincumbered in
thick leathern hose, stood Robin of Redesdale. Other captains there
were, whom different motives had led to the common confederacy. There
might be seen the secret Lollard, hating either Rose, stern and sour,
and acknowledging no leader but Hilyard, whom he knew as a Lollard's
son; there might be seen the ruined spendthrift, discontented with
fortune, and regarding civil war as the cast of a die,--death for the
forfeiture, lordships for the gain; there, the sturdy Saxon squire,
oppressed by the little baron of his province, and rather hopeful to
abase a neighbour than dethrone a king of whom he knew little, and for
whom he cared still less; and there, chiefly distinguished from the
rest by grizzled beard, upturned mustache, erect mien, and grave, not
thoughtful aspect, were the men of a former period,--the soldiers who
had fought against the Maid of Are,--now without place, station, or
hope in peaceful times, already half robbers by profession, and
decoyed to any standard that promised action, pay, or plunder.
The conclave were in high and warm debate.
"If this be true," said Coniers, who stood at the head of the table,
his helmet, axe, truncheon, and a rough map of the walls of Olney
before him--"if this be true, if our scouts are not deceived, if the
Earl of Warwick is in the village, and if his banner float beside King
Edward's,--I say, bluntly, as soldiers should speak, that I have been
deceived and juggled!"
"And by whom, Sir Knight and cousin?" said the heir of Fitzhugh,
reddening.
"By you, young kinsman, and this hot-mouthed dare-devil, Robin of
Redesdale! Ye assured me, both, that the earl approved the rising;
that he permitted the levying yon troops in his name; that he knew
well the time was come to declare against the Woodvilles, and that no
sooner was an army mustered than he would place himself at its bead;
and I say, if this be not true, you have brought these gray hairs into
dishonour!"
"And what, Sir John Coniers," exclaimed Robin, rudely, "what honour
had your gray hairs till the steel cap covered them? What honour, I
say, under lewd Edward and his lusty revellers? You were thrown
aside, like a broken scythe, Sir John Coniers! You were forsaken in
your rust! Warwick himself, your wife's great kinsman, could do
nought in your favour! You stand now, leader of thousands, lord of
life and death, master of Edward and the throne! We have done this
for you, and you reproach us!"
"And," began the heir of Fitzhugh, encouraged by the boldness of
Hilyard, "we had all reason to believe my noble uncle, the Earl of
Warwick, approved our emprise. When this brave fellow (pointing to
Robin) came to inform me that, with his own eyes, he had seen the
waxen effigies of my great kinsman, the hellish misdeed of the queen's
witch-dam, I repaired to my Lord Montagu; and though that prudent
courtier refused to declare openly, he let me see that war with the
Woodvilles was not unwelcome to him."
"Yet this same Montagu," observed one of the ringleaders, "when
Hilyard was well-nigh at the gates of York, sallied out and defeated
him, sans ruth, sans ceremony."
"Yes, but he spared my life, and beheaded the dead body of poor Hugh
Withers in my stead: for John Nevile is cunning, and he picks his nuts
from the brennen without lesing his own paw. It was not the hour for
him to join us, so he beat us civilly, and with discretion. But what
hath he done since? He stands aloof while our army swells, while the
bull of the Neviles and the ragged staff of the earl are the ensigns
of our war, and while Edward gnaws out his fierce heart in yon walls
of Olney. How say ye, then, that Warwick, even if now in person with
the king, is in heart against us? Nay, he may have entered Olney but
to capture the tyrant."
"If so," said Coniers, "all is as it should be: but if Earl Warwick,
who, though he hath treated me ill, is a stour carle, and to be feared
if not loved, join the king, I break this wand, and ye will seek out
another captain."
"And a captain shall be found!" cried Robin. "Are we so poor in
valour, that when one man leaves us we are headless and undone? What
if Warwick so betray us and himself,--he brings no forces. And never,
by God's blessing, should we separate till we have redressed the
wrongs of our countrymen!"
"Good!" said the Saxon squire, winking, and looking wise,--"not till
we have burned to the ground the Baron of Bullstock's castle!"
"Not," said a Lollard, sternly, "till we have shortened the purple
gown of the churchman; not till abbot and bishop have felt on their
backs the whip wherewith they have scourged the godly believer and the
humble saint."
"Not," added Robin, "till we have assured bread to the poor man, and
the filling of the flesh-pot, and the law to the weak, and the
scaffold to the evil-doer."
"All this is mighty well," said, bluntly, Sir Geoffrey Gates, the
leader of the mercenaries, a skilful soldier, but a predatory and
lawless bravo; "but who is to pay me and my tall fellows?"
At this pertinent question, there was a general hush of displeasure
and disgust.
"For, look you, my masters," continued Sir Geoffrey, "as long as I and
my comrades here believed that the rich earl, who hath half England
for his provant, was at the head or the tail of this matter, we were
contented to wait a while; but devil a groat hath yet gone into my
gipsire; and as for pillage, what is a farm or a homestead? an' it
were a church or a castle there might be pickings."
"There is much plate of silver, and a sack or so of marks and royals,
in the stronghold of the Baron of Bullstock," quoth the Saxon squire,
doggedly hounding on to his revenge.
"You see, my friends," said Coniers, with a smile, and shrugging his
shoulders, "that men cannot gird a kingdom with ropes of sand.
Suppose we conquer and take captive--nay, or slay--King Edward, what
then?"
"The Duke of Clarence, male heir to the throne," said the heir of
Latimer, "is Lord Warwick's son-in-law, and therefore akin to you, Sir
John."
"That is true," observed Coniers, musingly.
"Not ill thought of, sir," said Sir Geoffrey Gates; "and my advice is
to proclaim Clarence king and Warwick lord protector. We have some
chance of the angels then."
"Besides," said the heir of Fitzhugh, "our purpose once made clear, it
will be hard either for Warwick or Clarence to go against us,--harder
still for the country not to believe them with us. Bold measures are
our wisest councillors."
"Um!" said the Lollard, "Lord Warwick is a good man, and has never,
though his brother be a bishop, abetted the Church tyrannies. But as
for George of Clarence--"
"As for Clarence," said Hilyard, who saw with dismay and alarm that
the rebellion he designed to turn at the fitting hour to the service
of Lancaster, might now only help to shift from one shoulder to the
other the hated dynasty of York--"as for Clarence, he hath Edward's
vices without his manhood." He paused, and seeing that the crisis had
ripened the hour for declaring himself, his bold temper pushed at once
to its object. "No!" he continued, folding his arms, raising his
head, and comprehending the whole council in his keen and steady
gaze,--"no! lords and gentlemen, since speak I must in this emergency,
hear me calmly. Nothing has prospered in England since we abandoned
our lawful king. If we rid ourselves of Edward, let it not be to sink
from a harlot-monger to a drunkard. In the Tower pines our true lord,
already honoured as a saint. Hear me, I say,--hear me out! On the
frontiers an army that keeps Gloucester at bay hath declared for Henry
and Margaret. Let us, after seizing Olney, march thither at once, and
unite forces. Margaret is already prepared to embark for England. I
have friends in London who will attack the Tower, and deliver Henry.
To you, Sir John Coniers, in the queen's name, I promise an earldom
and the garter; to you, the heirs of Latimer and Fitzhugh, the high
posts that beseem your birth; to all of you, knights and captains,
just share and allotment in the confiscated lands of the Woodvilles
and the Yorkists; to you, brethren," and addressing the Lollards, his
voice softened into a meaning accent that, compelled to worship in
secret, they yet understood, "shelter from your foes and mild laws;
and to you, brave soldiers, that pay which a king's coffers alone can
supply. Wherefore I say, down with all subject-banners! up with the
Red Rose and the Antelope, and long live Henry the Sixth!"
This address, however subtle in its adaptation to the various passions
of those assembled, however aided by the voice, spirit, and energy of
the speaker, took too much by surprise those present to produce at
once its effect.
The Lollards remembered the fires lighted for their martyrs by the
House of Lancaster; and though blindly confident in Hilyard, were not
yet prepared to respond to his call. The young heir of Fitzhugh, who
had, in truth, but taken arms to avenge the supposed wrongs of
Warwick, whom he idolized, saw no object gained in the rise of
Warwick's enemy, Queen Margaret. The mercenaries called to mind the
woful state of Henry's exchequer in the former time. The Saxon squire
muttered to himself, "And what the devil is to become of the castle of
Bullstock?" But Sir Henry Nevile (Lord Latimer's son), who belonged
to that branch of his House which had espoused the Lancaster cause,
and who was in the secret councils of Hilyard, caught up the cry, and
said, "Hilyard doth not exceed his powers; and he who strikes for the
Red Rose shall carve out his own lordship from the manors of every
Yorkist that he slays." Sir John Coniers hesitated: poor, long
neglected, ever enterprising and ambitious, he was dazzled by the
proffered bribe; but age is slow to act, and he expressed himself with
the measured caution of gray hairs.
"A king's name," said he, "is a tower of strength, especially when
marching against a king; but this is a matter for general assent and
grave forethought."
Before any other (for ideas did not rush at once to words in those
days) found his tongue, a mighty uproar was heard without. It did not
syllable itself into distinct sound; it uttered no name; it was such a
shout as numbers alone could raise; and to such a shout would some
martial leader have rejoiced to charge to battle, so full of depth and
fervour, and enthusiasm and good heart, it seemed, leaping from rank
to rank, from breast to breast, from earth to heaven. With one accord
the startled captains made to the entrance of the tent, and there they
saw, in the broad space before them, inclosed by the tents which were
grouped in a wide semicircle,--for the mass of the hardy rebel army
slept in the open air, and the tents were but for leaders,--they saw,
we say, in that broad space, a multitude kneeling, and in the midst,
upon his good steed Saladin, bending graciously down, the martial
countenance, the lofty stature, of the Earl of Warwick. Those among
the captains who knew him not personally recognized him by the popular
description,--by the black war-horse, whose legendary fame had been
hymned by every minstrel; by the sensation his appearance had created;
by the armourial insignia of his heralds, grouped behind him, and
whose gorgeous tabards blazed with his cognizance and quarterings in
azure, or, and argent. The sun was slowly setting, and poured its
rays upon the bare head of the mighty noble, gathering round it in the
hazy atmosphere like a halo. The homage of the crowd to that single
form, unarmed, and scarce attended, struck a death-knell to the hopes
of Hilyard,--struck awe into all his comrades! The presence of that
one man seemed to ravish from them, as by magic, a vast army; power,
and state, and command left them suddenly to be absorbed in HIM!
Captains, they were troopless,--the wielder of men's hearts was
amongst them, and from his barb assumed reign, as from his throne!
"Gads my life!" said Coniers, turning to his comrades, "we have now,
with a truth, the earl amongst us; but unless he come to lead us on to
Olney, I would as lief see the king's provost at my shoulder."
"The crowd separates, he rides this way!" said the heir of Fitzhugh.
"Shall we go forth to meet him?"
"Not so!" exclaimed Hilyard, "we are still the leaders of this army;
let him find us deliberating on the siege of Olney!"
"Right!" said Coniers; "and if there come dispute, let not the rabble
hear it."
The captains re-entered the tent, and in grave silence awaited the
earl's coming; nor was this suspense long. Warwick, leaving the
multitude in the rear, and taking only one of the subaltern officers
in the rebel camp as his guide and usher, arrived at the tent, and was
admitted into the council.
The captains, Hilyard alone excepted, bowed with great reverence as
the earl entered.
"Welcome, puissant sir and illustrious kinsman!" said Coniers, who had
decided on the line to be adopted; "you are come at last to take the
command of the troops raised in your name, and into your hands I
resign this truncheon."
"I accept it, Sir John Coniers," answered Warwick, taking the place of
dignity; "and since you thus constitute me your commander, I proceed
at once to my stern duties. How happens it, knights and gentlemen,
that in my absence ye have dared to make my name the pretext of
rebellion? Speak thou, my sister's son!"
"Cousin and lord," said the heir of Fitzhugh, reddening but not
abashed, "we could not believe but what you would smile on those who
have risen to assert your wrongs and defend your life." And he then
briefly related the tale of the Duchess of Bedford's waxen effigies,
and pointed to Hilyard as the eye-witness.
"And," began Sir Henry Nevile, "you, meanwhile, were banished,
seemingly, from the king's court; the dissensions between you and
Edward sufficiently the land's talk, the king's vices the land's
shame!
"Nor did we act without at least revealing our intentions to my uncle
and your brother, the Lord Montagu," added the heir of Fitzhugh.
"Meanwhile," said Robin of Redesdale, "the commons were oppressed, the
people discontented, the Woodvilles plundering its, and the king
wasting our substance on concubines and minions. We have had cause
eno' for our rising!" The earl listened to each speaker in stern
silence.
"For all this," he said at last, "you have, without my leave or
sanction, levied armed men in my name, and would have made Richard
Nevile seem to Europe a traitor, without the courage to be a rebel!
Your lives are in my power, and those lives are forfeit to the laws."
"If we have incurred your disfavour from our over-zeal for you," said
the son of Lord Fitzhugh, touchingly, "take our lives, for they are of
little worth." And the young nobleman unbuckled his sword, and laid
it on the table.
"But," resumed Warwick, not seeming to heed his nephew's humility, "I,
who have ever loved the people of England, and before king and
parliament have ever pleaded their cause,--I, as captain-general and
first officer of these realms, here declare, that whatever motives of
ambition or interest may have misled men of mark and birth, I believe
that the commons at least never rise in arms without some excuse for
their error. Speak out then, you, their leaders; and, putting aside
all that relates to me as the one man, say what are the grievances of
which the many would complain."
And now there was silence, for the knights and gentlemen knew little
of the complaints of the populace; the Lollards did not dare to expose
their oppressed faith, and the squires and franklins were too
uneducated to detail the grievances they had felt. But then the
immense superiority of the man of the people at once asserted itself;
and Hilyard, whose eye the earl had hitherto shunned, lifted his deep
voice. With clear precision, in indignant but not declamatory
eloquence, he painted the disorders of the time,--the insolent
exactions of the hospitals and abbeys, the lawless violence of each
petty baron, the weakness of the royal authority in restraining
oppression, its terrible power in aiding the oppressor. He
accumulated instance on instance of misrule; he showed the insecurity
of property, the adulteration of the coin, the burden of the imposts;
he spoke of wives and maidens violated, of industry defrauded, of
houses forcibly entered, of barns and granaries despoiled, of the
impunity of all offenders, if high-born, of the punishment of all
complaints, if poor and lowly. "Tell us not," he said, "that this is
the necessary evil of the times, the hard condition of mankind. It
was otherwise, Lord Warwick, when Edward first swayed; for you then
made yourself dear to the people by your justice. Still men talk,
hereabouts, of the golden rule of Earl Warwick; but since you have
been, though great in office, powerless in deed, absent in Calais, or
idle at Middleham, England hath been but the plaything of the
Woodvilles, and the king's ears have been stuffed with flattery as
with wool. And," continued Hilyard, warming with his subject, and, to
the surprise of the Lollards, entering boldly on their master-
grievance--"and this is not all. When Edward ascended the throne,
there was, if not justice, at least repose, for the persecuted
believers who hold that God's word was given to man to read, study,
and digest into godly deeds. I speak plainly. I speak of that faith
which your great father Salisbury and many of the House of York were
believed to favour,--that faith which is called the Lollard, and the
oppression of which, more than aught else, lost to Lancaster the
hearts of England. But of late, the Church, assuming the power it
ever grasps the most under the most licentious kings (for the sinner
prince hath ever the tyrant priest!), hath put in vigour old laws for
the wronging man's thought and conscience; [The Lollards had greatly
contributed to seat Edward on the throne; and much of the subsequent
discontent, no doubt, arose from their disappointment, when, as Sharon
Turner well expresses it, "his indolence allied him to the Church,"
and he became "hereticorum severissimus hostis."--CROYL., p. 564.] and
we sit at our doors under the shade, not of the vine-tree, but the
gibbet. For all these things we have drawn the sword; and if now,
you, taking advantage of the love borne to you by the sons of England,
push that sword back into the sheath, you, generous, great, and
princely though you be, well deserve the fate that I foresee and can
foretell. Yes!" cried the speaker, extending his arms, and gazing
fixedly on the proud face of the earl, which was not inexpressive of
emotion--"yes! I see you, having deserted the people, deserted by
them also in your need; I see you, the dupe of an ungrateful king,
stripped of power and honour, an exile and an outlaw; and when you
call in vain upon the people, in whose hearts you now reign, remember,
O fallen star, son of the morning! that in the hour of their might you
struck down the people's right arm, and paralyzed their power. And
now, if you will, let your friends and England's champions glut the
scaffolds of your woman-king!"
He ceased. A murmur went round the conclave; every breast breathed
hard, every eye turned to Warwick. That mighty statesman mastered the
effect which the thrilling voice of the popular pleader produced on
him; but at that moment he had need of all his frank and honourable
loyalty to remind him that he was there but to fulfil a promise and
discharge a trust,--that he was the king's delegate, not the king's
judge.
"You have spoken, bold men," said he, "as, in an hour when the rights
of princes are weighed in one scale, the subject's sword in the other,
I, were I king, would wish free men to speak. And now you, Robert
Hilyard, and you, gentlemen, hear me, as envoy to King Edward IV. To
all of you I promise complete amnesty and entire pardon. His highness
believes you misled, not criminal, and your late deeds will not be
remembered in your future services. So much for the leaders. Now for
the commons. My liege the king is pleased to recall me to the high
powers I once exercised, and to increase rather than to lessen them.
In his name, I pledge myself to full and strict inquiry into all the
grievances Robin of Redesdale hath set forth, with a view to speedy
and complete redress. Nor is this all. His highness, laying aside
his purpose of war with France, will have less need of impost on his
subjects, and the burdens and taxes will be reduced. Lastly, his
grace, ever anxious to content his people, hath most benignly
empowered me to promise that, whether or not ye rightly judge the
queen's kindred, they will no longer have part or weight in the king's
councils. The Duchess of Bedford, as beseems a lady so sorrowfully
widowed, will retire to her own home; and the Lord Scales will fulfil
a mission to the court of Spain. Thus, then, assenting to all
reasonable demands, promising to heal all true grievances, proffering
you gracious pardon, I discharge my duty to king and to people. I
pray that these unhappy sores may be healed evermore, under the
blessing of God and our patron saint; and in the name of Edward IV.,
Lord Suzerain of England and of France, I break up this truncheon and
disband this army!"
Among those present, this moderate and wise address produced a general
sensation of relief; for the earl's disavowal of the revolt took away
all hope of its success. But the common approbation was not shared by
Hilyard. He sprang upon the table, and, seizing the broken fragments
of the truncheon, which the earl had snapped as a willow twig,
exclaimed, "And thus, in the name of the people, I seize the command
that ye unworthily resign! Oh, yes, what fools were yonder drudges of
the hard hand and the grimed brow and the leathern jerkin, to expect
succour from knight and noble!"
So saying, he bounded from the tent, and rushed towards the multitude
at the distance.
"Ye knights and lords, men of blood and birth, were but the tools of a
manlier and wiser Cade!" said Warwick, calmly. "Follow me."
The earl strode from the tent, sprang upon his steed, and was in the
midst of the troops with his heralds by his side, ere Hilyard had been
enabled to begin the harangue he had intended. Warwick's trumpets
sounded to silence; and the earl himself, in his loud clear voice,
briefly addressed the immense audience. Master, scarcely less than
Hilyard, of the popular kind of eloquence, which--short, plain,
generous, and simple--cuts its way at once through the feelings to the
policy, Warwick briefly but forcibly recapitulated to the commons the
promises he had made to the captains; and as soon as they heard of
taxes removed, the coinage reformed, the corn thrave abolished, the
Woodvilles dismissed, and the earl recalled to power, the rebellion
was at an end. They answered with a joyous shout his order to
disperse and retire to their homes forthwith. But the indomitable
Hilyard, ascending a small eminence, began his counter-agitation. The
earl saw his robust form and waving hand, he saw the crowd sway
towards him; and too well acquainted with mankind to suffer his
address, he spurred to the spot, and turning to Marmaduke, said, in a
loud voice, "Marmaduke Nevile, arrest that man in the king's name!"
Marmaduke sprang from his steed, and laid his hand on Hilyard's
shoulder. Not one of the multitude stirred on behalf of their
demagogue. As before the sun recede the stars, all lesser lights had
died in the blaze of Warwick's beloved name. Hilyard griped his
dagger, and struggled an instant; but when he saw the awe and apathy
of the armed mob, a withering expression of disdain passed over his
hardy face.
"Do ye suffer this?" he said. "Do ye suffer me, who have placed
swords in your hands, to go forth in bonds, and to the death?"
"The stout earl wrongs no man," said a single voice, and the populace
echoed the word.
"Sir, then, I care not for life, since liberty is gone. I yield
myself your prisoner."
"A horse for my captive!" said Warwick, laughing; "and hear me promise
you, that he shall go unscathed in goods and in limbs. God wot, when
Warwick and the people meet, no victim should be sacrificed! Hurrah
for King Edward and fair England!"
He waved his plumed cap as he spoke, and within the walls of Olney was
heard the shout that answered.
Slowly the earl and his scanty troop turned the rein; as he receded,
the multitude broke up rapidly, and when the moon rose, that camp was
a solitude. [The dispersion of the rebels at Olney is forcibly
narrated by a few sentences, graphic from their brief simplicity, in
the "Pictorial History of England," Book V, p. 104. "They (Warwick,
etc.) repaired in a very friendly manner to Olney, where they found
Edward in a most unhappy condition; his friends were dead or
scattered, flying for their lives, or hiding themselves in remote
places: the insurgents were almost upon him. A word from Warwick sent
the insurgents quietly back to the North."]
Such--for our nature is ever grander in the individual than the mass--
such is the power of man above mankind!