"I"ll settle her mind for her! Whichever I find foremost among the French, I"ll send home to her a knight, and with better sense to boot than to squabble for nine years as to an old horse."
He then dismounted, and was conducted into the town-hall, where a banquet was prepared, taking by the hand Sir James Stewart, and followed by his brother John, and by Malcolm, who felt as though his brain were turning, partly with amazement, partly with confusion at his own dulness, as he perceived that not only was the free-spoken Hal, Henry of Monmouth, King of England, but that his wandering benefactor, the captive knight, whose claim of kindred he had almost spurned, was his native sovereign, James the First of Scotland.
CHAPTER IV: THE TIDINGS OF BEAUGE
Malcolm understood it at last. In the great chamber where he was bidden to wait within "Nigel" till "Sir James" came from a private conference with "Harry," he had all explained to him, but within a curtness and brevity that must not be imitated in the present narrative.
The squire Nigel was in fact Sir Nigel Baird, Baron of Bairdsbrae, the gentleman to whom poor King Robert II. had committed the charge of his young son James, when at fourteen he had been sent to France, nominally for education, but in reality to secure him from the fate of his brother Rothsay.
Captured by English vessels on the way, the heir of Scotland had been too valuable a prize to be resigned by the politic Henry IV., who had lodged him at Windsor Castle, together with Edmund Mortimer, earl of March, and placed both under the nominal charge of the Prince of Wales, a youth of a few years older. Unjust as was the detention, it had been far from severe; the boys had as much liberty as their age and recreation required, and received the choicest training both in the arts of war and peace. They were bred up in close intercourse with the King"s own four sons, and were united with them by the warmest sympathy.
In fact, since usurpation had filled Henry of Lancaster"s mind with distrust and jealousy, his eldest son had been in no such enviable position as to be beyond the capacity of fellow-feeling for the royal prisoner.
Of a peculiarly frank, open, and affectionate nature, young Henry had so warmly loved the gentle and fascinating Richard II., that his trust in the father, of whom he had seen little in his boyhood, had received a severe shock through Richard"s fate. Under the influence of a new, suspicious, and avaricious wife, the King kept his son as much at a distance as possible, chiefly on the Welsh marches, learning the art of war under Hotspur and Oldcastle; and when the father and son were brought together again, the bold, free bearing and extraordinary ability of the Prince filled the suspicious mind of the King with alarm and jealousy. To keep him down, give him no money, and let him gain no influence, was the narrow policy of the King; and Henry, chafing, dreaming, feeling the injustice, and pining for occupation, shared his complaints within James, and in many a day-dream restored him freely to his throne, and together redressed the wrongs of the world. Meantime, James studied deep in preparation, and recreated himself with poetry, inspired by the charms of Joan Beaufort, the lovely daughter of the King"s legitimatized brother, the Earl of Somerset; while Henry persisted in a boy"s pa.s.sionate love to King Richard"s maiden widow, Isabel of France. Entirely unrequited as his affection was, it had a beneficial effect. Next after his deep sense of religion, it kept his life pure and chivalrous. He was for ever faithful to his future wife, even when Isabel had been returned to France, and his romantic pa.s.sion had fixed itself on her younger sister Catherine, whom he endowed in imagination with all he had seen or supposed in her.
Credited with every excess by the tongue of his stepmother, too active-minded not to indulge in freakish sports and experiments in life very astounding to commonplace minds, sometimes when in dire distress even helping himself to his unpaid allowance from his father"s mails, and always with buoyant high spirits and unfailing drollery that scandalized the grave seniors of the Court, there is full proof that Prince Hal ever kept free from the gross vices which a later age has fancied inseparably connected with his frolics; and though always in disgrace, the vexation of the Court, and a by-word for mirth, he was true to the grand ideal he was waiting to accomplish, and never dimmed the purity and loftiness of his aim. That little band of princely youths, who sported, studied, laughed, sang, and schemed in the glades of Windsor, were strangely brought together-the captive exiled King, the disinherited heir of the realm, and the sons of the monarch who held the one in durance and occupied the throne of the other; and yet their affection had all the frank delight of youthful friendship. The younger lads were in more favour with their father than was the elder. Thomas was sometimes preferred to him in a mortifying manner, John"s grave, quiet nature prevented him from ever incurring displeasure, and Humfrey was the spoilt pet of the family; but nothing could lessen Harry"s large-minded love of his brothers; and he was the idol and hero of the whole young party, who implicitly believed in his mighty destinies as a renovator of the world, the deliverer of Jerusalem, and restorer of the unity and purity of the Church.
"Harry the Fifth was crowned," and with the full intention of carrying out his great dream. But his promise of releasing James became matter of question. The House of Albany, who held the chief power in Scotland, had bound Henry IV. over not to free their master; and it was plain that to send him home before his welcome was ensured would be but tossing him on their spears. In vain James pleaded that he was no boy, and was able to protect himself; and vowed that when the faithful should rally round his standard, he would be more than a match for his enemies; or that if not, he would rather die free than live in bondage. Henry would not listen, and insisted upon retaining him until he should himself be at leisure to bring him home with a high hand, utterly disregarding his a.s.surance that this would only be rendering him in the eyes of his subjects another despised and hated Balliol.
Deeming himself a divinely-appointed redresser of wrongs, Henry was already beginning on his great work of purifying Europe in preparation for his mighty Crusade; and having won that splendid victory which laid distracted France at his feet, he only waited to complete the conquest as thoroughly and rapidly as might be; and, lest his grand purpose should be obstructed, this great practical visionary, though full of kindness and generosity, kept in thraldom a whole troop of royal and n.o.ble captives.
He had, however, been so far moved by James"s entreaties, as to consent that when he himself offered his devotions at the shrine of St. John of Beverley, the native saint who shared with the two cordwainers his grat.i.tude for the glories of "Crispin Crispian"s day," his prisoner should, unknown to any save the few who shared the pilgrimage, push on to reconnoitre his own country, and judge for himself, having first sworn to reveal himself to no one, and to avoid all who could recognize him. James had visited Glenuskie within a special view to profiting by the wisdom of Sir David Drummond, and had then been at Stirling, Edinburgh, and Perth. On his way back, falling in with Malcolm in his distress, he had conceived the project of taking him to England; and finding himself already more than half recognized by Sir David, had obtained his most grateful and joyous consent. In truth, James"s heart had yearned to his young cousin, his own situation had become much more lonely of late; for Henry was no longer the comrade he had once been, since he had become a keeper instead of a fellow-sufferer. It was true that he did his best to forget this by lavishing indulgences on his captive, and insisting on being treated on terms of brotherly familiarity; but though his transcendent qualities commanded love, the intimacy could be but a semblance of the once equal friendship. Moreover, that conspiracy which cost the life of the Earl of Cambridge had taught James that cautious reserve was needed in dealing with even his old friends the princes, so easily might he be accused of plotting either with Henry"s immediate heir or with the Mortimers; and, in this guarded life, he had hailed with delight the opportunity of taking to himself the young orphan cousin of kindred blood, of congenial tastes, and home-like speech, whom he might treat at once as a younger brother and friend, and mould by and by into a trusty counsellor and a.s.sistant. That peculiar wistfulness and gentleness of Malcolm"s look and manner, together with the refinement and intellect apparent to all who conversed with him without alarming him, had won the King"s heart, and made him long to keep the boy with him. As to Malcolm"s longing for the cloister, he deemed it the result of the weakly health and refined nature which shrank from the barbarism of the outer world, and he thought it would pa.s.s away under shelter from the rude taunts of the fierce cousins, at a distance from the well-meaning exhortations of the monks, and at the spectacle of brave and active men who could also be pious, conscientious, and cultivated. In the renewed sojourn at Windsor which James apprehended, the training of such a youth as Malcolm of Glenuskie would be no small solace.
By the time Malcolm had learnt as much of all this as Sir Nigel Baird knew, or chose to communicate, the King entered the room. He flung himself on his knees, exclaiming, with warm grat.i.tude, as he kissed the King"s hand, "My liege, I little kenned-"
"I meant thee to ken little," said James, smiling. "Well, laddie, wilt thou share the prisoner"s cell?-Ay, Bairdsbrae, you were a true prophet. Harry will do all himself, and will not hear of losing me to deal with my own people at my own gate. No, no, he"ll have me back with Southron bows and bills, so soon as this small trifle of France lies quiet in his grasp! I had nearly flung back my parole in his face, and told him that no English sword should set me on the Bruce"s throne; but there is something in Harry of Monmouth that one must love, and there are moments when to see and hear him one would as soon doubt the commission of an angel with a flaming sword."
"A black angel!" growled Sir Nigel.
"Scoff and chafe, Baird, but look at his work. Look at Normandy, freed from misrule and exaction, in peace and order. Look at this land. Was ever king so loved? Or how durst he act as he did this day?"
"Nay, an it were so at home," said Baird, "I had as lief stay here as where a man is not free to fight out his own feud. Even this sackless callant thought it shame to see two honest men baulked."
"Poor Scotland!" sighed James. "Woe is the land where such thoughts come readiest to gray-haired men and innocent boys. I tell you, cousin, this precious right is the very cause that our poor country is so lawless and b.l.o.o.d.y, that yon poor silly sparrow would fain be caged for fear of the kites and carrion-crows."
"Alack, my Lord, let me but have my way. I cannot fight! Let Patrick Drummond have my sister and my lands, and your service will be far better done," said Malcolm.
"I know all that," said the King, kindly. "There is time enough for settling that question; and meantime you will not be spoilt for monk or priest by cheering me awhile in my captivity. I need you, laddie," me added, laying his hand on the boy"s shoulder, with all the instinctive fascination of a Stewart. "I lack a comrade of my own blood, for I am all alone!"
"Oh, Sir!" and Malcolm, looking into his face, saw it full of tenderness.
"Books and masters you shall have," continued James, "such as for church or state, cathedral, cloister, or camp, shall render you the meeter prince; and I pa.s.s you my royal word, that if at full age the cowl be your choice, I will not gainsay you. Meantime, abide with me, and be the young brother I have yearned for."
The King threw his arms round Malcolm, who felt, and unconsciously manifested, a strange bliss in that embrace, even while fixed in his determination that nothing should make him swerve from his chosen path, nor render him false to his promise to Patrick and Lilias. It was a strange change, from being despised and down-trodden by fierce cousins, or only fondled, pitied, and treated with consideration by his own nearest and dearest friends, to be the chosen companion of a king, and such a king. Nor could it be a wile of Satan, thought Malcolm, since James still promised him liberty of choice. He would ask counsel of a priest next time he went to confession; and in the meantime, in the full tide of grat.i.tude, admiration, and affection, he gave himself up to the enjoyment of his new situation, and of time King"s kindness and solicitude. This was indeed absolutely that of an elder brother; for, observing that Malcolm"s dress and equipments, the work of Glenuskie looms, supplemented by a few Edinburgh purchases, was uncouth enough to attract some scornful glances from the crowd who came out to welcome the royal entrance into York the next day, he instantly sent Brewster in search of the best tailor and lorimer in the city, and provided so handsomely for the appearance of young Glenuskie, his horse, and his attendants, that the whole floor of their quarters was strewn with doublets, boots, chaperons, and gloves, saddles, bridles, and spurs, when the Duke of Bedford loitered into the room, and began to banter James for thus (as he supposed) pranking himself out to meet the lady of his love; and then bemoaned the fripperies that had become the rage in their once bachelor court, vowing, between sport and earnest, that Hal was so enamoured of his fair bride, that anon the conquest of France would be left to himself and his brother, Tom of Clarence; while James retorted by thrusts at Bedford"s own rusticity of garb, and by endeavouring to force on him a pair of shoes with points like ram"s horns, as a special pa.s.sport to the favour of Dame Jac-a lady who seemed to be the object of Duke John"s great distaste.
Suddenly a voice was heard in the gallery of the great old mansion where they were lodged. "John! John! Here!-Where is the Duke, I say?" It was thick and husky, as with some terrible emotion; and the King and Duke had already started in dismay before the door was thrown open, and King Henry stood among them, his face of a burning red.
"See here, John!" he said, holding out a letter; and then, with an accent of wrathful anguish, and a terrible frown, he turned on James, exclaiming, "I would send you to the Tower, Sir, did I think you had a hand in this!"
Malcolm trembled, and sidled nearer his prince; while James, with an equally fierce look, replied, "Hold, Sir! Send me where you will, but dare not dishonour my name!" Then changing, as he saw the exceeding grief on Henry"s brow, and heard John"s smothered cry of dismay, "For Heaven"s sake, Harry, what is it?"
"This!" said Henry, less loudly, less hotly, but still with an agony of indignation: "Thomas is dead-and by the hand of two of your traitor Scots!"
"Murdered!" cried James, aghast.
"Murdered by all honest laws of war, but on the battlefield," said Henry. "Your cousin of Buchan and old Douglas fell on my brave fellows at Beauge, when they were spent with travel to stop the robberies in Anjou. They closed in with their pikes on my brave fellows, took Somerset prisoner, and for Thomas, while he was dealing with a knight named Swinton in front, the villain Buchan comes behind and cleaves his head in twain; and that is what you Scots call fighting!"
"It was worthy of a son of Albany!" said James. "Would that vengeance were in my power!"
"Ay, you loved him!" said Henry, grasping James"s hand, his pa.s.sion softened into a burst of tears, as he wrung his prisoner"s hand. "Nay, who did not love him, my brave, free-hearted brother? And that I-I should have dallied here and left him to bear the brunt, and be cut off by you felon Scots!" And he hid his face, struggling within an agony of heart-rending grief, which seemed to sway his whole tall, powerful frame as he leant against the high back of a chair; while John, together with James, was imploring him not to accuse himself, for his presence had been needful at home; and, to turn the tenor of his thought, James inquired whether there were any further disaster.
"Not as yet," said Henry; "there is not a man left in that heaven-abandoned crew who knows how to profit by what they have got! but I must back again ere the devil stir them up a man of wit!-And you, Sir, can you take order with these heady Scots?"
"From Windsor? no," said James; "but set me in the saddle, let me learn war under such a captain as yourself, and maybe they will not take the field against me; or if they do, the slayer of Clarence shall rue it."
"Be it so," said Henry, wringing his hand. "You shall with me to France, Jamie, and see war. The Scots should flock to the Lion rampant, and without them the French are mo better than deer, under the fool and murderer they call Dauphin. Yet, alas! will any success give me back my brother-my brother, the brave and true?" he added, weeping again within time abandon of an open nature and simple age. "It was for my sins, my forgetfulness of my great work, that this has come on me.-Ho, Marmion! carry these tidings from me to the Dean; pray him that the knell be tolled at the Minster, and a requiem sung for my brother and all who fell with him. We will be there ourselves, and the mayor must hold us excused from his banquet; these men are too loyal not to grieve for their King."
And, with his arm round the neck of his brother John, Henry left the room; and before another word could be said, Sir Nigel was there, having only retired on the King"s entrance. The news was of course all over the house, and with an old attendant"s freedom he exclaimed, "So, Sir, the English have found tough c.u.mmers at last!"
"Not too honourably," said James, sadly.
"Hout, would not the puir loons be glad enow of any gate of coming by a clout at the man"s brother that keeps you captive!"
"They have taken away one of those I loved best!" said James.
"I"m no speaking ill of the lad Clarence himself," said Nigel; "he was a braw youth, leal and bold, and he has died in his helm and spurs, as a good knight should. I"d wish none of these princes a waur ending. Moreover, could Swinton have had the wit to keep him living, he"d have been a bonnie barter for you, my Lord; but ony way the fight was a gallant one, and the very squire that brought the tidings cannot deny that our Scots fought like lions."
"Would Douglas but so fight in any good quarrel!" sighed the King. "But what are you longing to ask, Malcolm? Is it for your kinsman Patrick? I fear me that there is little chance of your hearing by name of him."
"I wot not," said Sir Nigel; "I did but ask for that hare-brained young cousin of mine, Davie Baird, that must needs be off on this journey to France; and the squire tells me he was no herald, to be answerable for the rogues that fought on the other side."
"We shall soon see for ourselves," said James; "I am to make this campaign."
"You! you, my liege! Against your own ally, and under the standard of England! Woe"s me, how could ye be so lost!"
James argued on his own conviction that the true France was with poor Charles VI., and that it was doing the country no service to prolong the resistance of the Armagnacs and the Dauphin, who then appeared mere partisans instead of patriots. As to fighting under the English banner, no subjection was involved in an adventurer king so doing: had not the King of Bohemia thus fought at Crecy? and was not the King of Sicily with the French army? Moreover, James himself felt the necessity of gaining some experience in the art of war. Theoretically he had studied it with all his might, from Caesar, Quintus Curtius, and that favourite modern authority, the learned ecclesiastic, Jean Pave, who was the Vauban of the fifteenth century; and he had likewise obtained greedily all the information he could from Henry himself and his warriors; but all this had convinced him that if war was to be more than a mere raid, conducted by mere spirit and instinct, some actual apprenticeship was necessary. Even for such a dash, Henry himself had told him that he would find his book-knowledge an absolute impediment without some practice, and would probably fail for that very reason when opposed to tough old seasoned warriors. And, prudence apart, James, at five-and-twenty, absolutely glowed with shame at the thought that every one of his companions had borne arms for at least ten years past, while his arrows had no mark but the target, his lances had all been broken in the tilt-yard. It was this argument that above all served to pacify old Bairdsbrae; though he confessed himself very uneasy as to the prejudice it would create in Scotland, and so evidently loathed the expedition, that James urged on him to return to Scotland, instead of continuing his attendance. There was no fear but that his ransom would be accepted, and he had been absent twelve years from his home.
"No, no, my Lord; I sware to your father that I"d never quit you till I brought you safe home again, and, G.o.d willing, I"ll keep my oath. But what"s this puir callant to do, that you were set upon rearing upon your books at Windsor?"
"He shall choose," said James. "Either he shall study at the learned university at Oxford or at Paris, or he shall ride with me, and see how cities and battles are won. Speak not yet, cousin; it takes many months to shake out the royal banner, and you shall look about you ere deciding. Now give me yonder black cloak; they are a.s.sembling for the requiem."
Malcolm, as he followed his king, was not a little amazed to see that Henry, the magnificent victor, was wrapped in a plain black serge garment, his short dark hair uncovered, his feet bare; and that on arriving at the Minster he threw himself on his knees, almost on his face, before the choir steps, there remaining while the De profundis and the like solemn and mournful strains floated through the dark vaultings above him, perhaps soothing while giving expression to the agony of his affliction, and self-accusation, not for the devastation of the turbulent country of an insane sovereign, but for his having relaxed in the mighty work of renovation that he had imposed on himself.
Even when the service was ended, the King would not leave the Minster. He lifted himself up to bid Bedford and his companions return; but for himself, he intended to remain and confess, in preparation for being "houselled" at the Ma.s.s for the dead early the next morning, before hastening on the southern journey.
Was this, thought the bewildered Malcolm as he fell asleep, the G.o.dless atmosphere he had been used to think all that was not Glenuskie or Coldingham-England above all?