feel for the poor. And when even
the refuse of the populace once felt the sword of Warwick, some portion
of the popular enthusiasm must have silently deserted him.
Robert Hilyard, who had borne so large a share in the restoration of the
Lancastrians, now fixed his home in the metropolis; and anxious as
ever to turn the current to the popular profit, he saw with rage and
disappointment that as yet no party but the nobles had really triumphed.
He had longed to achieve a revolution that might be called the People's;
and he had abetted one that was called "the Lord's doing." The affection
he had felt for Warwick arose principally from his regarding him as an
instrument to prepare society for the more democratic changes he panted
to effect; and, lo! he himself had been the instrument to strengthen the
aristocracy. Society resettled after the storm, the noble retained his
armies, the demagogue had lost his mobs! Although through England were
scattered the principles which were ultimately to destroy feudalism,
to humble the fierce barons into silken lords, to reform the Church,
to ripen into a commonwealth through the representative system,--the
principles were but in the germ; and when Hilyard mingled with the
traders or the artisans of London, and sought to form a party which
might comprehend something of steady policy and definite object, he
found himself regarded as a visionary fanatic by some, as a dangerous
dare-devil by the rest. Strange to say, Warwick was the only man who
listened to him with attention; the man behind the age and the man
before the age ever have some inch of ground in common both desired to
increase liberty; both honestly and ardently loved the masses; but each
in the spirit of his order,--Warwick defended freedom as against the
throne, Hilyard as against the barons. Still, notwithstanding their
differences, each was so convinced of the integrity of the other,--that
it wanted only a foe in the field to unite them as before. The natural
ally of the popular baron was the leader of the populace.
Some minor, but still serious, griefs added to the embarrassment of the
earl's position. Margaret's jealousy had bound him to defer all rewards
to lords and others, and encumbered with a provisional council all great
acts of government, all grants of offices, lands, or benefits. [Sharon
Turner] And who knows not the expectations of men after a successful
revolution? The royal exchequer was so empty that even th
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