Long and lengthily chanted was the triumphant song, with the Latin choruses, which were echoed back by the escort on the bank; while Henry lay, listening and musing; and Malcolm had time for many a thought and impulse.
Patrick"s life was granted; although it had been promised too late to send the intelligence back to the tent at Corbeil. So far, the purpose of his vow to St. Andrew had been accomplished; but with the probability that he should soon again be a.s.sociated with Patrick, came the sense of the failure in purpose and in promise. Patrick would not reproach him, he well knew-nay, would rejoice in the change; but even this certainty galled him, and made him dread his cousin"s presence as likely to bring him a sense of shame. What would Patrick think of his letting a lady be absolutely compelled to marry him? Might he not say it was the part of Walter Stewart over again? Indeed, Malcolm remembered how carefully King James was prevented from hearing the means by which the Countess intended to make the lady his own; and a sensation came over him, that it was profanation to call on St. Andrew to bless what was to be brought about by such means. Why was it that, as his eyes fell on the face of King Henry, the whole world and all his projects acquired so different a colouring? and a sentence he had once heard Esclairmonde quote would come to him constantly: "My son, think not to buy off G.o.d. It is thyself that He requires, not thy gifts."
But the long lay of victory was over; and King Henry had roused himself to thank the singers, then sighed, and said, "How long ago that was!"
"Six years," said James.
"The whole s.p.a.ce from the hope and pride of youth to the care and toil of eld," said Henry. "Your Scots made an old man of me the day they slew Thomas."
"Yet that has been your sole mishap," said James.
"Yea, truly! But thenceforth I have learnt that the road to Jerusalem is not so straight and plain as I deemed it when I stood victorious at Agincourt. The Church one again-the Holy Sepulchre redeemed! It seemed then before my eyes, and that I was the man called to do it."
"So it may be yet," said James. "Sickness alters everything, and raises mountains before us."
"It may be so," said Henry; "and yet-Jerusalem! Jerusalem! It was my father"s cry; it was King Edward"s cry; it was St. Louis" cry; and yet they never got there."
"St. Louis was far on his way," said James.
"Ay! he never turned aside!" said Henry, sighing, and moving restlessly and wearily with something of returning fever.
""O bona patria, lumina sobria te speculantur-"
Boy, are you there?" as, in turning, his eye fell on Malcolm. "Take warning: the straight road is the best. You see, I have never come to Jerusalem." Then again he murmured:
""Hic breve vivitur, hic breve plangitur, hic breve fletur; Non breve vivere, non breve plangere, retribuetur."
And James, seeing that nothing lulled him like song, offered to sing that mysteriously beautiful rhythm of Bernard of Morlaix.
"Ay, prithee do so," said Henry. "There"s a rest there, when the Agincourt lay rings hollow. Well, there is a Jerusalem where our shortcomings are made up; only the straight way-the straight way."
Malcolm took his part with James in singing the rhythm, which he had learnt long ago at Coldingham, and which thus in every note brought back the vanished aspirations and self-dedication to "the straight way."
For such, an original purpose of self-devotion must ever be-not of course exclusively to the monastic life; but whoever lowers his aims of serving G.o.d under any worldly inducement, is deviating from the straight way: and, thought Malcolm, if King Harry feels Agincourt an empty word beside the song of Sion, must not all I have sought for be a very vanity?
Sometimes dozing, but sometimes restless, and with the pain of breathing constantly increasing on him, Henry wore through the greater part of the day, upon the river, until it was necessary to land, and be taken through the forest in his litter. He was now obliged to be lifted from the barge; and his weariness rendered the conveyance very distressing, save that his patient smile never faded; and still he said, "All will be well when I come to my Kate!"
Alas! when the gates were reached, James hardly knew how to tell him that the Queen had gone that morning to Paris with her mother. Yet still he was cheerful. "If the physicians deal hard with me," he said, "it will be well that she should not be here till the worst is over."
The physicians were there. A messenger had gone direct from Corbeil to summon them; and Henry delivered himself up into their hands, to fight out the battle with disease, as he had set himself to fight out many another battle in his time.
A sharp conflict it was-between a keen and aggravated disease, apparently pleurisy coming upon pulmonary affection of long standing, and a strong and resolute nature, unquenched by suffering, and backed by the violent remedies of a half-instructed period. Those who watched him, and strove to fulfil the directions of the physicians, hardly marked the lapse of hours; even though more than one day and night had pa.s.sed ere in the early twilight of a long summer"s morn he sank into a sleep, his face still distressed, but less acutely, and his breath heavy and labouring, though without the severe pain.
The watchers felt that here might be the turning point, and stood or sat around, not daring to change their postures, or utter the slightest word. Suddenly, James, who stood nearest, leaning against the wall, with his eyes fixed on the face of the sleeper, was aware of a hand on his shoulder, and looking round, saw in the now full light Bedford"s face-so pale, haggard, and replete with anxiety, so dusty and travel-stained, that Henry, awakening at that moment, exclaimed, "Ha, John!" And as his brother was slow to reply-"Has the day gone against thee? How was it? Never fear to speak, brother; thou art safe; and I know thou hast done valiantly. Valour is never lost, whether in defeat or success. Speak, John. Take it not so much to heart."
"There has been no battle, Harry," said Bedford, gathering voice with difficulty. "The Dauphin would not abide our coming, but broke up his camp."
"Beshrew thee, man!" said Henry; "but I thought thou wast just off a flight!"
"Dost think one can ride fast only for a flight?" said Bedford. "Ah, would that it had been the loss of ten battles rather than this!"
And he fell on his knees, grasping Henry"s hand, and hiding his face against the bed, with the same instinct of turning to him for comfort with which the young motherless children of Henry of Bolingbroke, when turned adrift among the rude Beaufort progeny of John of Gaunt, had clung to their eldest brother, and found tenderness in his love and protection in his fearlessness; so that few royal brethren ever loved better than Henry and John of Lancaster.
"It was well and kindly done, John," said Henry; "and thou hast come at a good time; for, thanks be to G.o.d, the pain hath left me; and if it were not for this burthen of heaviness and weariness, I should be more at ease than I have been for many weeks."
But as he spoke, there was that both in his face and voice that chilled with a dread certainty the hearts of those who hung over him.
"Is my wife come? I could see her now," he wistfully asked.
Alas! no. Sir Lewis Robsart, the knight attached to her service, faltered, with a certain shame and difficulty, that the Queen would come when her orisons at Notre Dame were performed.
It was his last disappointment; but still he bore it cheerily.
"Best," he said. "My fair one was not made for sights like this; and were she here"-his lip trembled-"I might bear me less as a Christian man should. My sweet Catherine! Take care of her, John; she will be the most desolate being in the world."
John promised with all his heart; though pity for cold-hearted Catherine was not the predominant feeling there.
"I would I had seen my child"s face, and blessed him," continued Henry. "Poor boy! I would have him Warwick"s charge."
"Warwick is waiting admission," said Bedford. "He and Salisbury and Exeter rode with me."
The King"s face lighted up with joy as he heard this. "It is good for a man to have his friends about him," he said; and as they entered he held out his hand to them and thanked them.
Then took place the well-known scene, when, looking back on his career, he p.r.o.nounced it to have been his endeavour to serve G.o.d and his people, and declared himself ready to face death fearlessly, since such was the will of his Maker: grieving only for the infancy of his son, but placing his hope and comfort in his brother John, and commending the babe to the fatherly charge of Warwick. "You cannot love him for his own sake as yet; but if you think you owe me aught, repay it to him." And as he thought over the fate of other infant kings, he spoke of some having hated the father and loved the child, others who had loved the father and hated the child.
To Humfrey of Gloucester he sent stringent warnings against giving way to his hot and fiery nature, offending Burgundy, or rushing into a doubtful wedlock with Jaqueline of Hainault; speaking of him with an elder brother"s fatherly affection, but turning ever to John of Bedford with full trust and reliance, as one like-minded, and able to carry out all his intentions. For the French prisoners, they might not be released, "lest more fire be kindled in one day than can be quenched in three."
"And for you, Jamie," he said, affectionately holding out his hand, "my friend, my brother-in-arms, I must say the same as ever. Pardon me, Jamie; but I have not kept you out of malice, such as man must needs renounce on his death-bed. I trust to John, and to the rest, for giving you freedom at such time as you can safely return to be such a king indeed as we have ever hoped to be. Do you pardon me, James, for this, as for any harshness or rudeness you may have suffered from me?"
James, with full heart, murmured out his ardent love, his sense that no captive had ever been so generously treated as he.
"And you, my young lord," said Henry, looking towards Malcolm, whose light touch and tender hands had made him a welcome attendant in the illness, "I have many a kind service to thank you for. And I believe I mightily angered you once; but, boy, remember-ay, and you too, Ralf Percy-that he is your friend who turns you back from things sore to remember in a case like mine!"
After these, and other calm collected farewells, Henry required to know from his physicians how long his time might yet be. There was hesitation in answering, plainly as they saw that mortification had set in.
"What," he said, "do ye think I have faced death so many times to fear it now?"
Then came the reply given by the weeping, kneeling physician: "Sir, think of your soul, for, without a miracle, you cannot live two hours."
The King beckoned his confessor, and his friends retired, to return again to take their part in the last rites, the Viatic.u.m and Unction.
Henry was collected, and alive to all that was pa.s.sing, responding duly, and evidently entering deeply into the devotions that were to aid his spirit in that awful pa.s.sage; his face gravely set, but firm and fearless as ever. The ceremonial ended, he was still sensible, though with little power of voice or motion left; but the tone, though low, was steady as ever, when he asked for the Penitential Psalms. Still they doubted whether he were following them, for his eyes closed, and his lips ceased to move, until, as they chanted the revival note of David"s mournful penance-"O be favourable and gracious unto Sion; build Thou the walls of Jerusalem;"-at that much-loved word, the light of the blue eyes once more beamed out, and he spoke again. "Jerusalem! On the faith of a dying king, it was my earnest purpose to have composed matters here into peace and union, and so to have delivered Jerusalem. But the will of G.o.d be done, since He saw me unworthy."
Then his eyes closed again; he slept, or seemed to sleep; and then a strange quivering came over the face, the lips moved again, and the words broke from them, "Thou liest, foul spirit! thou liest!" but, as though the parting soul had gained the victory in that conflict, peace came down on the wasted features; and with the very words of his Redeemer Himself, "Into Thy hands I commend my spirit," he did indeed fall asleep; the mighty soul pa.s.sed from the worn-out frame.