Runnymede and Lincoln Fair: A Story of the Great Charter by John G. Edgar
CHAPTER XXVI
A PAINFUL INTERVIEW
Hugh de Moreville did not await the sailing of Prince Louis and thefleet which Eustace the Monk had fitted out at Calais. Indeed, theNorman baron was all eagerness to reach London, and communicate to hisconfederates the intelligence that the French prince was really comingwith a formidable force. Embarking in a swift vessel, and having aprosperous voyage, he soon reached the English coast, and, hastening tothe capital, carried to Fitzwalter, and De Quency, and Stephen Langton,intelligence that his important mission to the court of Paris had beencrowned with complete success.
De Moreville was still in London at his great mansion in Ludgate, butpreparing to set out for Chas-Chateil, where he had reason to believeall was not quite right, and whither he had already despatched RalphHornmouth, in whom he had great faith, when one morning a visitor wasannounced, and the Norman baron, on looking up, perceived that it wasWalter Merley. The young noble, however, looked haggard, careworn, andsad, and marvellously unlike the keen and sanguine partisan ofFitzwalter and the barons who had appeared as a guest at the board ofConstantine Fitzarnulph, and aided in alluring the citizens into thealliance which enabled the confederates to seize the capital and strikedismay into the king.
“Walter Merley,” said De Moreville, a little taken by surprise at hisvisitor’s woe-begone look, “I give thee welcome, and have news of greatimport to tell thee, so I pray thee be seated.”
“Nay, De Moreville,” replied the young noble, sadly, very sadly indeed,“it needs not. I already know it, and I grieve to think that othermatters should be as they are. For yourself, I must say that you havemisled me. Nay, frown not; it avails nought with me. I believed you tobe a man true to England in thought, word, and deed; and I, the son of awoman of English blood, mark you, and therefore more closely interestedin the national welfare than any mere Anglo-Norman, understanding thatit was the object of yourself, and the barons with whom you areassociated, to secure the liberties of England by forcing John of Anjouto confirm the laws of the Confessor, and to restore the usages thatprevailed in England in the Confessor’s reign--understanding this, Irepeat, I not only gave you all the aid in my power, but exposed mybrother and my mother to the vengeance of a king who is as cruel andunjust as he is treacherous. And now neither of them have a roof underwhich to shelter their head. Their hearths are desolate, their castlesand manors in the hands of strangers.”
“Even taking it at the worst, Walter,” said De Moreville, startled moreand more at the young noble’s aspect and style of address, “you must ownthat others in the North besides your kindred have felt the king’svengeance. De Vesci, and De Roos, and Delaval, and half a dozen others,are equally sufferers.”
“But, De Moreville,” continued Merley, still calmly and sadly, “what Icomplain of is this: that you and your confederates have deserted allthe professions so loudly and so boastfully made, and that you havebetrayed England. Nay, frown not, for I tell you again that the son ofDame Juliana Merley is not to be daunted by a frown; I say you havebetrayed the cause of England by calling into the kingdom a foreignprince who is certain to hold the ancient laws of England in lighterregard than the worst Plantagenet whom the imagination could conjure up;and of all foreigners a Frenchman, and of all Frenchmen a Capet, and ofall Capets a son of Philip Augustus, England’s fellest foe.”
“Necessity, Walter--a stern necessity.”
“However,” continued Merley, more calmly, “I do not recognise thenecessity; nor, credit me, will the country long recognise it. MeanwhileI can take no part in the struggle. King John I abhor; Prince Louis Iabhor still more than I do King John. I have, under your counsel, DeMoreville, taken such a course as to involve in ruin the house to whichI belong. My brother and my mother are exiles north of the Tweed,dependent on our potent kinsman for the very bread they eat. All that Icould have endured to behold; but to think that this was suffered toplace a Frenchman and a Capet on the throne of Alfred and Edward maddensme. But, farewell! I go to Flanders to seek oblivion in the excitementof war; and may God pardon you, De Moreville, for having brought thiswretched foreign prince and his rascal myrmidons into England, for I ownthat I cannot. I have said.”
De Moreville was much affected, and buried his head in his bosom toconceal his agitation. This was not the kind of language he expected tohear from an eager partisan of the baronial cause; and he certainlybegan to view the matter in a different light than when he was at thecourt of Paris, and thinking only of vengeance on King John. However, hefelt that every awkwardness and inconvenience must be endured, and everyreproach borne, now that the great step was taken, and it was too lateto recede. He raised his head resolutely, with the intention of bringinghis young friend over to his view. When he did so, he found that he wasalone. Walter Merley was gone.