A Stormy Life. A novel

Front matter

A STORMY LIFE. % lofal. BY LADY GEORGIANA FULLERTON, ADTHOE OF " LADY BIRD," " TOO STRANGE NOT TO BE TRUE," ETC. IN THREE VOLUMES. VOL. III. LONDON : RICHARD BENTLEY, NEW BURLINGTON STREET. 1867. [AU rights reserved.] LONDON : ROBSON AND SON, GREAT NORTHERN PRINTING WORKS, PANCRAS ROAD, N.W. CONTENTS OF VOL. III. CHAP. PAGE i. The Queen's Lady ln England . . . . i ii. Dame Katharine Bugdon 24 in. Warwick-lane 45 iv. An Arrival and a Departure .... 66 v. The Comte de Queniez 91 vt. The Struggle 113 vii. Love's Victory 135 viu. An Idyl of Anjou 160 ix. The Abyss 182 x. " Out of the Depths I have cried unto Thee" . 203 xi. Per Crucem ad Lucem

Chapter I. The Queen's Lady In England

Islington, January 27th, 1464. I came here eight days ago, having, by the mercy of God, made a safe journey, and a fair passage over seas from the harbour of Grace to Southampton, and thence travelled to Win chester to see the Bishop, who received me with exceeding kindness, and entertained me and my companion with his wonted hospi tality. Methinks there is not a greater ser vant of God now in existence than this pre late. I never met with any one which could forbear to love him when once he had seen and conversed with him; and albeit he hath lived much in courts and with persons of high rank, he hath an almost incredible simplicity VOL. III. B J OR of manners, joined with so much good breed ing and nurture as can be thought of. He was right glad to see me, and yet he said he misliked the Queen should be deprived of the services of one which so truly loved her, and who had been her companion in so many dangers.

"My lord," I replied, "your grace may assure yourseU that naught could have resolved me to quit her majesty even for a time unless her own expressed deshe that I should for her ends visit this country and report to her the state of men's minds in London and other places. She deigned to say that, whereas she could rely on some of her servants touch ing zeal, and on others touching discretion, there were but few had both these qualities, which she saw in me. My lord, it would well-nigh have broken my heart to part with my sovereign mistress when her lUe was daily threatened, and her necessities pressing; but now that she is amongst her own kinsfolk, and her father hath given her the castle of Queniez, near St. Michel, with two thousand Uvres yearly for her maintenance, I am not so disquieted about her as heretofore."

Then his grace asked me U it was true the Duke of Burgundy had entertained the Queen right royally at St. Pol, and treated her with great kindness. "Tea," I replied, "with exceeding good cheer; and when we left St. Pol it was under the escort of the Duke's archers ; and some of his knights — the Lord de Moreuil, Messhe Francisco of Ferrara, the Sieur de Benty, and Guillaume de Saux — rode by the side of the carriage all the way to Bruges. At the gate of that city, which she hacl left disguised as a poor woman in a covered cart, the Count de Charolais met her, and in the name of his father paid her his compliments, and with as much homage as could be rendered to any queen in the world he conducted her to her lodgings ; and all the time we abided in Bruges we lived at the Duke's expense, and banquets were held in honour of her majesty and the Prince.

The good people of the town could not now make too much of theh highnesses. Every day they brought presents of wine and gifts very rare and precious ; so mutable is the temper of men, and easily swayed by example." "The Count of Charolais," the Bishop A STORMY LIEE ; OR said, "was always, I ween, well disposed towards his English kinsfolk; but his father and himseU have been often at strUe, report saith." "Ay, my lord; but your grace wUl be contented to learn that the Queen laboured to become a peacemaker betwixt the Duke and his son, whom she regards with no small affection. By her means, Messhe Pierre de Breze hath mediated betwixt them on disputed points, ancl favourable hopes are entertained of the issue." " The Holy Trinity be praised !" my lord of "Winchester exclaimed. "Blessed be the peacemakers, for they shall be caUed God's children !

Her dear majesty hath, then, wholly forgiven her cousin of Burgundy ?" " 0, my lord, she saith she hath received so many marks of affection and honour from this prince, that she fears she can never show herself thankful enough ; that she hath found him the best among the good and the gentlest, and possessed withal of better sense than any one on earth." His grace smiled, and said again, " God be praised ! To lose an enemy and gain a friend is so good a hap, that it may well cause an over-partial judgment in a grateful heart." " "When we travelled from the Low Countries to the Duchy of Barr, a detachment of Burgundian troops guarded the Queen all the way, and only turned back when she had passed the frontier of her father's dominions. The King of Sicily was so moved by this gene rous behaviour to his daughter, that he wrote a letter to the Duke of Burgundy, his ancient foe, wherein he gave him many thanks, and declared he could not have expected, and did not merit, such attentions."

"Glory be to God!" the Bishop cried; "one good action leads to another; like when one throweth a stone into water, each circlet formeth a wider one, so each proof of good will betwixt men reacheth others, and goodness widens its sphere. But, I pray you, gentle Lady Margaret, or rather Dame Agnes Clere, — since it is under that name you disguise yourseU, — how was her majesty received in her own land and by her own people ?" " Warmly and tenderly," I repUed. " Her kinsfolk lavished on her gUts and endear ments, and the peasants and townspeople ; OR acclaimed her joyfully. Flowers were scat tered on her path; bells were rung and songs composed in honour of the daughter of king Bene. But, 0 my lord, how sad were these rejoicings, how bitter these greetings to King Henry's wife ! She bore herseU loftily and proudly ; she smiled, but in an unsmUing fashion.

On her father's bosom she wept abundantly, and during theh short interview I think she poured out her heart's hoarded sufferings in that paternal one which loves her so well. But his majesty was soon forced to leave her; he is involved in a load of cares and troubles touching the disputes betwixt King Lewis and his feudatories, of which Monseigneur Jean, his son, is one. But at the Castle of Vaudemont, and in Monseigneur de Calabre's palace, and at Amboise, where her aunt, the widowed Queen Marie, is lying sick, she concealed her emotions under a cold severe aspect, which chilled some and pained others of her kinsfolk. The day I took leave of her majesty, she said to me, 'When you see the Bishop of Winchester, tell him to pray for me.' Therefore, my lord, to move you the more assiduously to besiege Heaven for her I will relate somewhat touching the suffering of that noble but ulcered soul.

Some time before I came away she spoke thus : ' God forgive me for what I feel when I see Yolande with her lord in so great happiness and glee that nothing can be compared to it. For nine teen years her wedded life hath flowed in an even current of contentment which seemeth almost incredible. Contrast, I pray you, her fate with mine. Ferry is noble, valiant, and loves her well. ISso contrary fate hath barred her from the enjoyment of that love. My lord is more than noble : he is royal. If Ferry de Lorraine is handsome, King Henry is more so ; U he is brave, so is my lord. He hath never shrunk from danger or avoided it, save when fell disease hath smitten him. His natural courage is indomitable, shown in endurance like in action. If Yolande is beloved by her husband, I dare to say I am worshipped by mine.

But see, she lives in the sunshine of conjugal affection lavished upon her each day and each hour. If her lord goes to the wars, they are not civil brawls, and he returns crowned with laurels. My gentle lord is hunted from one hiding-place to another like J OR a wild beast ; and lands and seas lie between us, so that I cannot hear sometimes for months what hath befallen him. And when have I ever rested peacefully in his arms? When have I even for a few days together enjoyed certain content ? When hath the long thirst for happiness which consumes me been slaked ? When shall it be slaked ? If I had wedded a deformed or a wicked prince, or married one I hated, my misfortunes would be comprehen sible ; but all that should be sweet in my life turns to gall. The loves which fill my heart breed poison.

My son ! 0 Meg ! my poor faithful Meg ! God only knoweth the suffer ing which maternal tenderness causeth me ! Look at my sister with her children. Her fair-haired Kene, her little Yolande, the small Marie, the babe Am^Ue, the infant Ferry.; she smiles upon them all — kisses, caresses, chides with careless fondness. All are dear to her, all are winsome ; a light whipping hath been the worst trouble of theh young lives. Think you her love for these children is the same impassioned vehement love as mine for my one beautiful royal boy ? For me painful thoughts mix with each mother's joy. If I kiss his noble forehead, I think of the crown which rebels seek to deprive him of ; U I hear his gay laughter, of the day when assassins were like for ever to stifle his voice ; U I see him eat, I call to mind the hour when he vainly hungered for a morsel of food ; U he showeth his early wit, youthful courage, and greatness of soul, then I call to mind the speeches of our enemies.

"If," say they, "the heh of Lan caster was a deformed imp or a fool, he might be suffered to live ; but seeing the promise in him of future greatness, he must perish." This is the direst thought of all; but besides dagger wounds, my heart endureth a thousand needle pricks. Hast noticed the rich attire of these young Yaud^monts, these children of Lorraine as they be styled, and how mean Edward's garb shows by the side of all this splendour ? And then Yolande, poor simple soul, offers to bestow on him the like gear as her son's, and says sisters should share all things alike, and that she oweth all her joys to me. Can she share with me her untroubled nights, her peaceful days, her light heart, a husband's daily company ? Nay, nay ; sisters share not alike. God maketh His sun to rise on the evil ; OR and on the good, and His rain to fall on the just and the unjust ; but the sunshine of happiness beameth not alike on His creatures, and the winds of adversity blow not on them with the same rigour.

One sister of the same house is submerged in grief, whilst another basks in prosperity.' — My lord, what could I say ? what comfort give to this afflicted lady ? Hope ? Alas ! fevered, restless hoping is the cancer which consumes her Use. Kesignation? Ah ! those which have learnt like your grace and others less holy and less learned than yourseU, but yet scholars in the same school, to love God not with a distant homage, but a personal ardent love, find in the worshipful adoration of His wUl consolations unspeakable in the darkest clouds of calamity. But to those which with theh whole feeble strength repel His mighty hand there is no more bitter speech than to bid them to be resigned." The Bishop sighed, and said, " This noble lady's prayers have ever been akin to Bachel's, when she cried, ' Give me chUdren, or else I die.' With this unresigned and passionate persistency she asked for this son ; and now she cries to God, ' Give this child a crown, or else I die.' These threatening petitions seldom are blest.

May the Lord Jesu comfort her now ! for the last news of the King must have needs plunged her into despah, as far as this world is concerned." "Heavens! my lord," I exclaimed, frighted at these words, "what hath befaUen his ma jesty ?" " Alas," the reverend prelate replied, " I feared you were ignorant of this last hap. I would fain have had better news to greet you with. Did you not hear the King's capture spoken of at Southampton ?" "He is taken, then? 0, my poor mistress ! my sweet Queen ! God help you when you receive these tidings. Nay, my lord, I heard naught at Hampton, for I drove straight way in a hhed conveyance from the port to your palace. 0 God, I did not think to hear the King was taken. I pray your grace to tell me how it came to pass." " He was at Waddington Hall, where, on the approach of any strangers, he had been used to rethe into a concealed chamber, where he was safe, until a monk of Abingdon discovered the secret passage to it, and revealed '.

OR the same to Sir James Harrington, which, with his servants, invaded the house and ar rested his grace in the name of the present king." The Bishop spoke with more com posure than I could see he inwardly possessed, for the tears stood in his eyes. " Where is he now ?" I asked in a dejected tone, for verily I felt utterly cast down. " In the Tower," the good prelate said. "In sooth, Lady Margaret, this holy monarch's, this dear prince's calamities are so repeated and so great that they work in me a reverent belief that he hath been appointed by God to suffer the penalty of others' crimes. We wit well from Holy Scripture that the sins of the fathers are visited on the chUdren, even unto the fourth generation; and what so like as that this pure, saintly, and innocent victim carries in his person the chastisements which others have earned from the Divine Justice ?"

" Alas, must the innocent," I exclaimed, " suffer for the guilty ?" "0 daughter," I was answered, "is not the Passion of our Lord a reply to this query ? Shall the disciple be above the Master, and not rather tread in His footsteps and be conformed to Him in this Use, so that he may be with Him in His glory ? I thank God that this sweet prisoner, my holy and dear example, who of all men doth most need to hold this faith, doth so cordially embrace it, that when some days since I fell at his feet weeping — " " 0 my lord, my lord !" I exclaimed, " you have seen him." " As soon as I heard he was at the Tower I went straightway to London and to the door of his lodgings, and none dared refuse me ad mittance. If there had been any to witness that meeting, methinks they should have deemed William of Winchester to be the hap less prisoner, and King Henry the consoler.

Yet his injuries had been of no common sort. All show of old respect, of reverence for an anointed king, of pity for fallen greatness, had this time been lacking in his treatment. Mounted on a sorry nag, his legs tied to his stirrups, with an insulting placard on his royal shoulders, he was brought to London, and — yea, I will teU you the worst, Lady Mar garet ; for if others informed you of it, I fear you should offend God by the utterance of such words as indignant passion too often ex- J OR hales. Look at that crucifix, daughter; yea, take it in your hand. Think on the manner the Lord God was used in the streets of Je rusalem. Think of His blows and revUings ; and then, armed by such showings, list to the recital of His true disciple's entry into Lon don. The Earl of Warwick — stay, daughter ; no flashing of the eye, no clenching of the hand ; pray God to forgive him who hath been so unhappy as to commit so grievous a sin, — the Earl of Warwick met the King at Islington ; ancl after issuing a proclamation forbidding aU persons to show him any respect, he led him three times round the pillory as if he had been a common felon, crying aloud, ' Treason, trea son !' and 'Behold the traitor !' A poor man which stood in the crowd, and which hath since discoursed with me, said with many tears, ' I warrant you, my lord, the good Saviour must have looked on the Jews as this our poor King did on his enemies that day.

When a brutal person, stepping out of the crowd, struck him in the face, he rebuked him with these only words: 'Forsooth and forsooth, you do foully to smite the Lord's anointed.' Yea, weep, gentle lady, for the full heart needs relief in these moments wherein those we do love and honour fall a prey to the evil passions of men. But, good Lord, after a little thought, we become reconciled to good men's sufferings, and are more ready to weep over theh perse cutors than themselves." " Yea, yea, right reverend Father," I cried, when I could speak. " I grieve not for that holy saint the King, but 0, the Queen !" he gravely answered. " God knoweth there is not a greater weU wisher to her majesty than my unworthy self; but if the future could be unfolded to our eyes, dame Margaret — if we could look into that next world, in which so many mysteries shall be solved, we should, it may be, perceive that the heaviest strokes of adversity are instru ments of a great mercy towards the soul which they appear to sUt like wheat.

Cease not to pray that by these means it may be cleansed from present alloy, and come out pure at the last day." I joined my hands and bowed my head; for thinking of the Queen's sorrow pierced me to the heart despite this good counsel. " The Prince, my sweet pupil, gives tokens ; OR l( and hope of future excellence?" the Bishop said, seeking, I ween, to rouse me from my dejection. I assured him that his grace was most toward and gracious in all his actions and behaviour. And for an example thereof I re lated that at one of the banquets at Bruges given by the nobles of Burgundy in honour of the Queen, the water for the ablution of hands was offered first to her majesty; upon which she called to herseU the Count of Charolais, praying him to come and wash with her. But he refused to come forward, and would have the water next offered to the Prince of Wales, who of his own accord, and in the most pretty wise imaginable, drew back, and said he could by no means wash unless his sah cousin the count would wash with him.

And in a chUdish, caressing manner, when the count waved his hand and denied his request, tried with all his little strength to pull to himseU his tall biuly kinsman and constrain him to it. When he could not succeed, and the truly noble Prince of Burgundy declared it was but loss of time, for that he should never consent to equal him self to the Prince of Wales, our little prince said, "But, sah cousin, these honours are not due to us from you ; neither ought precedency to be given in your father's kingdom to such poor and unfortunate persons as we are." The Count de Charolais replied, " Unfortunate though you may be, you are, for all that, the son of the King of England; whereas I am only the son of a ducal sovereign, which is not so high a vocation as that of a king." "Alas, pardon me, my lord, if my tears flow again when I think that the hopes which I entertained up to this hour, that at St. Omer the Duke of Burgundy and the King Lewis should have obtained the King's restoration, are now dashed to the earth."

"No foreign aid, Dame Margaret, could unseat the Yorkist dynasty, even if King Henry was at large. The people love him with a secret, tender, faithful love ; but the great earl, the most powerful nobles, and foremost of all, the citizens of London, hold the throne in theh hands ; and for the nonce the present King is the sovereign of theh choice." "And how," I said, "have you fared at his hands, my lord ? for I see by your recent vol. in. c ; OR visit to King Henry that you disguise not your fidelity to him." He smiled, and replied, " At first I was in great dedignation with King Edward, and my friends obhged me to fly into secret corners for fear of his anger ; but I have been lately restored to my flock and to his favour." "You have the art, my lord, to win the hearts of the most adverse, and to command the esteem of the most opposed parties."

" If this be true," he rephed, " it is an art less art; for it consists in so much rusticity, that I use no disguises with any one, and try as far as in me lies to be my Lord's messenger to all. God hath not set me as a judge over contending parties, but rather to move all to the observance of His law and the practice of virtue. Our holy King commends this mo deration, and is glad I can plead with those now in his place for poor oppressed persons and his loved College of Eton. ' Ah, Master William,' quoth he, in that more comfortable than sad interview of last week, ' I pray thee, if thou lovest me, befriend Eton.' And when I told him that the Pope's buU for its dissolution, which had been obtained by false repre sentations at Kome, had been revoked — thanks to Master Westbury's courageous efforts — he smiled with his wonted sweetness and said, ' St. John, but this is good tidings, Master William.

I would be led round the pillory more than three times if that could save Eton.' " After some further discourse with this holy man, which strengthened me not a little at the outset of a mighty and perilous office to be discharged in behaU of my lady the Queen, and furnished guidance in my dealings with others, I craved the Bishop's benison, and re tired to rest. On the morrow some further talk passed betwixt us, and I thanked God, which had suffered me to see this apostolic man, who lives in a palace like a poor person himseU, albeit hospitable ancl free to others. Amongst other things he showed me his plans for the erection of his designed CoUege of St. Magdalen at Oxford, which he had intended to make the noblest and richest structure in the learned world, with stately towers and lofty pinnacles, and a most tunable and melo dious peal of bells ; and the scholars thereof to \ OR be persons of good morals and manners, and an aptitude for learning which should make them famous men of letters as well as religious men.

Master Tyborde, who was with us in the library, exclaimed, "Ay, my lord, when will this all come to pass which you had so generously conceived and so admhably designed ?" The Bishop smiled, and answered, "Like other and yet greater things, good master Tyborde, when God pleaseth, how He pleaseth, and not at all if it shall so please Him." "Your grace is the most resigned man in the world," said the other ; and then the Bishop replied, "Nay, I have a secret, Master William, by which I have in all things always my will, and this is no other than making God's will mine ; and so nothing can happen to displease me, save to see Him offended." Then condescending to the curiosity of a seely woman, these great and scholarly men exhibited to my amazed sight a book not written with a pen by a man's hand, but in some kind of manner stamped, which is called printing.

One Caxton in London hath im ported this new art from Germany; and the Bishop told me, if it extended and should come into general use, it would multiply books and diffuse learning to an incredible degree. This book which he showed me was Cicero's work De Senectute, done into English, and was de dicated to himseU by the ingenious contriver of this singular mode of writing. I said jest ingly, that if books should multiply so fast, I should look in mine old age to have myseU a library. The Bishop laughed, and said what he most feared printing should effect would be to turn ladies from good housewives into readers of romances and idle tales, and that some check should be devised to keep them from it. His friend Anthony Woodville, he told me, spent whole days in the press at Westminster, and the present king had been to see it.

This made me ask him if it was true that the so-called king had married Lady Gray. He told me there was no doubt of it, albeit no open acknowledgment thereof had yet been made; that the espousals had taken place at Grafton, near to Stony Stratford, none being present save the spouse, the bride, her ; OR mother the duchess, the priest, two gentle women, and a young man to help the priest to sing. "But report saith that the so-called king hath been twice betrothed before — and in the last place to Elizabeth Lucy." "It is the common report," the Bishop answered. " I pray God it may not be true, for then these ladies have been grievously in jured." "Bessie Woodville married to the usurper !" I exclaimed. "Yerily, my lord, I begin to think they do not err which say the Duchess of Bedford is a witch."

He smiled. "Yerily, Dame Margaret, genealogies affirm she counts amongst her ancestresses the fairy Melusina, and hath inherited all her bewitch ing arts. In my opinion that great fahy was a lady of incomparable cunning and seductive manners ; and fairies and witches of this sort are not like to be lacking here and there in this poor world as long as it lasts." Aught more severe than these words I could not draw from the good Bishop's lips. I had more ado to be temperate in my resentment towards this new-fangled queen than against more guilty persons. But I could not exhale my wrath before his grace, and so held my peace; and on the morrow of that day traveUed to London.

Chapter II. Dame Katharine Bugdon

To behold again, after many years' absence, a once-familiar scene — be it a lone cottage on a bare heath, or a crowded and populous city — worketh either a pleasing sadness or a profound melancholy in a reflective mind. But how greatly doth this feeling increase when the memory of tragical events, the loss of many friends, or of those which either natural affi nity of blood or a more than common affection have made more dear than ordinary friends, is added to it ! As I rode through the streets of London, these oppressive vapours sweUed in my breast like a gathering cloud; and when at last I reached the house at Cheapside where I was to lodge, they broke loose, and resolved themselves into a plentUul rain of tears. It was with Katharine Strange, the wUe of Mr. Bugdon, that I was to spend the time I should be in London.

She had once belonged to the Queen's household, who had given her a por tion, and procured her father's consent to her marriage. Dame Katharine had not, like so many others, lost the memory of her majesty's benefits, and would have gone through fire and water to serve her grace. She folded me in her arms when I arrived, and clung to me, weeping ; and when she had conducted me to my chamber, we kissed again, and then cried afresh, ancl for some time could not converse without new bursts of tears. Howsoever, when the first emotion of this meeting was past, I marvelled to see how young and sprightly this little lady seemed. The years which had set on me the stamp of middle age had passed lightly over her pretty head. She was little changed since the time when she was called at court " Mischievous Kate ;" and when, after I had taken some rest and refreshment, we began to talk of past and present hopes, I soon found she was the same loving, wilful, pas sionate damsel as of yore, when she proved the torment of twenty lovers, and the plague of all her friends, by her odd humours.