Текст книги "The Sun in Splendour"

Автор книги: Jean Plaidy

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 25 страниц)

She was right. Edward would never have endured a carping wife.

He had always seemed ready to reward her for her attitude to his way of life by granting her requests as long as they did not interfere with his intentions. This matter of Hastings and Calais had been settled before she could as much as hint where she wanted the Captaincy to go.

'Is there no way of turning his favour from Hastings?' asked Elizabeth.

'They have always been friends. They have roamed the streets of London at night together; they have urged each other on to more and more outrageous adventures . . . long before you came on the scene, sister.'

'I know it well. I blame Hastings for much of the King's night adventures. Hastings is a profligate, a rake and a philanderer.'

'Well, Edward knows that as well as any and he continues to give him his friendship.'

'They are two of a kind,' said Elizabeth vehemently.

Anthony was alarmed to see his sister so intense, fearing she might betray her feelings to the King. They owed their prosperity to Elizabeth's relationship with the King; it must not change. No, there was no need to remind Elizabeth of that. She was as much aware of it as any of them.

'So,' said Anthony, 'we should not turn the King away from him by a complaint against his immoral way of life.'

'You mean . . . there could be some other way?'

Her eyes were alight with purpose and again Anthony felt that tremor of disquiet. He laid a hand on her arm. 'There might be a way.'

'How?'

'He has a large household of retainers. There are many who serve . . . .'

'WeU?'

'There may be some member of that retinue who is a little dissatisfied ... a little envious of another . . . one who feels he has not been justly treated.'

'And if he were found?'

'He might discover something against Hastings . . . some little plot involving the King.'

'Edward would never believe a thing against Hastings.'

'It might be possible to remind him that once he was loth to believe Warwick was a traitor to him.'

'First you must find something against Hastings.'

'I will/ Anthony promised.

Elizabeth nodded. And once Hastings was proved to be a traitor it would be a simple matter to suggest that the Captaincy should be given to one whom he could trust and whom could the King trust more than his own brother-in-law?

Hastings could not believe it. There was whispering about him. What had he done? He could find no answer to that. Who should be his enemy? Perhaps a husband of one of the women he had seduced? But which one? There were too many of them for him to guess.

It was a strange feeling.

Clarence looked at him slyly, almost invitingly. What did he mean? Hastings had always suspected that Clarence was looking about him, seeking some way of destroying his brother. Hastings wanted none of such matters. He was Edward's friend; he had always been Edward's friend and he wanted to remain so.

Sometimes he laughed at this shadow which was beginning to grow bigger. It was ridiculous. Who had started such rumours?

He suspected the Queen. She did not like him because he often shared the King's nocturnal adventures. He supposed it was natural for a wife not to care for her husband's companion in debauchery. They often went out together in some sort of disguise, usually dressed as merchants. Edward had a childish pleasure in keeping his identity secret and then suddenly revealing it. It was hard for him to remain incognito. He was so tall for one thing; he was outstandingly handsome and if he were growing somewhat too fat and there were pouches beginning to form under his magnificent eyes, he was still very good-looking. He would be known in merchant's clothes as surely as if he wore one of his favourite devices—the rose-en-soleil emblazoned on his cloak. Hastings had once remarked how appropriate that one particularly was. 'You are like the sun in splendour, Edward,' he

had said. 'You arose on the dark world of poor mad Henry's country and you took the crown and dazzled us all. And here you are high in the sky ... in all your splendour.'

Edward had laughed and called Hastings a romantic poet. But he had liked what he had said; and Hastings noticed he used the badge—a combination of the blazing sun and the rose of York– more than any other.

And how could Edward ever believe that he, William Lord Hashngs, was not the truest friend he had ever had?

Sometimes he wondered what the Queen whispered to him in the connubial bed at night. What poison did she drop into Edward's ear about his faithful friend? It was said that the Queen never meddled, never advised the King, never mentioned state matters or questioned his decisions. But there were ways, of course.

Once he caught Edward regarding him very coolly indeed as though he were assessing him, suspechng him, and he felt himself go cold with apprehension. Edward had changed from the golden youth who used to slip out into the streets of London with his good friend, looking for adventure. Edward still sought adventures; his appetites were as voracious as ever; but he was different. Warwick had deceived him. Warwick had pretended to be his friend so that he had no notion that he was planning to rise against him. And then Edward was forced to flee into exile.

He never recovered from that. Who would? It had changed the light-hearted trusting young man into a hard one ... a suspicious one. Clarence had deceived him too. But perhaps he had never thought very much of Clarence. But that Warwick should have turned against him had done something to Edward which would leave its mark forever.

He was ready to suspect his best friend.

Warwick, he would say to himself. And now . . . Hastings!

So when Edward looked at him with that cold assessment in his eyes Hastings trembled. He had noticed for some time that Edward had chosen other companions and Hastings was now never alone in the King's company. There always seemed to be some member of the Woodville family with him—either his Queen's brother or young Thomas Grey, her eldest son by her first marriage. What had Edward been told? Who were Hastings' enemies?

He did not have to look far. He knew it was the Woodvilles.

The Queen herself. They disliked anyone to be in favour with the King; and it suddenly dawned on him that they might have been angered by his appointment to Calais. The post was one of the most important that could be bestowed on a man; that trading post, the centre through which passed so many goods: leather, wool, tin and lead to be exported to Burgundy, graded and taxed, meant prosperity to the country and who should reap the reward of all this more than any, but the Captain. Yes, it must be the Captaincy of Calais. When he came to think of it this suspicion has grown up since his appointment.

He brooded; he fretted; he walked the streets of London asking himself what he should do. He roamed along by the river and looked at the gloomy fortress of the Tower and thought how many men had entered those dark walls never to emerge again except to the scaffold. Was that the fate they were preparing for him?

Each day he awoke with a heavy cloud upon him. He could not enjoy food, wine, nor even women. He was realizing how alone he might be in a hostile world.

He thought a great deal about Edward. Their friendship dated back for years. Edward had always been so genial, so good-tempered, so easy-going; a perfect companion for one built in the same mould, though, Hastings would be the first to admit, lacking that aura of splendour. T am like the moon,' he had once said, 'reflecting the glory of the sun.'

Edward had laughed at him telling him that such verbal adulation would profit him nothing. 'It's deeds, William,' he had said. 'Deeds that impress me.'

He had joked but he meant it. Now of what deeds had he been accused?

Hastings realized that he could not continue in this way. He was going to the King, and presuming on their long-standing friendship, ask him what was wrong, why he was regarded so coldly, what had been said against him.

Edward had always been affable and amenable. Why should he change now? But he had changed, Warwick's disaffection had changed him. He would never be the same easy-going trusting golden boy again. The sun could be fiercely dangerous as well as benevolent.

But he could not go on in this way. He decided he would speak to Edward. He went to his private apartments and because of

their old friendship he found his way to the King.

He was gratified to discover that Edward was alone. Edward looked up in surprise and said: 'What do you want, Hastings?'

'A word with you . . . alone.'

The King hesitated and for a moment a terrible desolation swept over Hastings, for he thought he saw himself doomed. On false evidence of course, but how many men had been condemned on that? He most certainly would not be the first.

He went forward and on impulse kneeling he raised agonized eyes to Edward's face. 'I must speak with you alone. I can endure this state no longer.'

Edward's expression changed. He burst into laughter. 'Get up, William,' he said. 'You look ridiculous in that position.'

Hastings rose and found himself laughing with the King, albeit the laughter was somewhat hysterical.

'Well,' said Edward, 'what is it you have to say?'

T want to know what has come between us. If I am accused of something ... I beg you let me know what.'

Edward hesitated. This was William, his old friend, and he could not believe that he would plot against him. At least he should have an opportunity to clear himself.

'My lord . . . my friend . . . Edward,' cried Hastings, 'then I have not been mistaken. There is something . . . .'

Edward said: 'You have been working against me, Hastings.'

'Never,' said Hastings.

'I found it hard to believe that you had,' began Edward.

Hastings burst into impassioned speech. 'My lord, my King, have I not always served you well? Have I not stood with you. . . always ... in failure as well as success? We have been in exile together ... we have adventured together in beds and in battlefields. Edward, you cannot seriously believe that I would ever plan to do you ill.'

'I must tell you that I would not believe ... for long ... I refused.'

'Tell me of what I am accused.'

Edward said: 'You know that I have my enemies. My own brother. . . . You are friendly with Clarence, I believe.'

'My lord, I am on good terms with your brother as you are . . . because he is your brother. For no other reason. I beg you tell me who has brought these accusations against me.'

'It is some who served you once and are no longer in your employ.'

'Disgruntled servants, my lord?'

'Just so. But. . . .' Edward looked at Hastings through narrowed eyes. He saw it all clearly. He knew who had trumped up charges against Hastings. It was Lord Rivers and the Queen. And it was because of Calais. He laughed inwardly, trying to remember what Elizabeth had said about. Hastings . . . nothing definite of course. She was far too clever. But she, with the help of Rivers, had managed to sow seeds of distrust in his mind about his best friend.

He was remembering now all the exploits they had shared together, the merry evenings, the days of adventure. And he suddenly knew that the suspicions against his old friend were false and he understood what anguish he had been submitted to over the last weeks.

Elizabeth had not said a word against Hastings but subtly when his name had been mentioned she had referred to the treachery of Warwick and Clarence, knowing that when those two were mentioned he would remember how they had both betrayed him and how astonished he had been that they could do so.

She was clever, his Elizabeth. And how well she suited him. So calm, so secret, so fascinating always. . . . But she knew that she must never attempt to persuade him or influence his decisions . . . outwardly. But she could act in her own secret way. Sometimes he thought of Desmond, whose comments about a divorce she had received so quietly. But they had rankled and how had Desmond come to be so swiftly executed?

He did not want to think too much of that incident. It was unpleasant. It was unpleasant also to think of Hastings betraying him. Hastings betray him! Never. He had allowed himself to be persuaded. But never again. Everyone, Elizabeth, Rivers, every Woodville among them would have to learn that it was the King who made the decisions, the King who said: This shall or shall not be.'

Let them try if they would; but they should not succeed.

'William,' he said, 'I know you well. You have always been a good friend to me. Are you still? Just tell me that.'

'My lord King, I swear on everything I hold most sacred that I have never swerved from my loyalty to you. The gossip which

has suggested otherwise is slanderous, evil. . . and has no place in reality.'

The King looked at his friend and said: '1 believe you, William. Let us forget this slander. Let us be together as we always were and I pray God always will be.'

Hastings fell on his knees and kissed the King's hand.

Edward was laughing. 'Get up, you fool,' he said. 'Have I not told you already you look ridiculous down there.'

And so the affair was at an end. Hastings was back with the King. They laughed together at table; they rode out together. And Elizabeth realized that her attempt to separate the King from his friend had failed.

THE FRENCH ADVENTURE

Elizabeth was enraged to realize that her plot to destroy Hastings had failed; in fact the King was more affable than ever to his friend and seemed eager to make up for suspecting him.

Hastings had quickly recovered and was his old merry witty self and he and Edward were hardly ever out of each other's company. She had discovered too that his passion for Jane Shore had not abated; rather it had increased; it seemed as though it were likely to become a permanent relationship. She wondered what view her mother would have taken of that. Perhaps she should ask the woman to Court to keep an eye on her and let her believe that she was ready to be a friend. How would Edward react to that? She would have to tread warily. In any case she was now faintly disturbed by the long-standing nature of the liaison and she deeply wished that Jacquetta was with her so that they could discuss it together.

But now she was preparing for her confinement and decided that the birth of the child should take place at Shrewsbury. Edward was eagerly awaiting the day and she knew that he longed for another boy. They had their three beautiful girls, Elizabeth, Mary and Cecily, and little Edward. Now if they could have another boy Edward would be so delighted with his Queen that surely he would forget this Jane Shore . . . for a little while at least.

The death of little Margaret had upset him. He hated anyone to mention the child, which was characteristic of him. Edward wanted only to think of what was pleasant. She was grateful again to Jacquetta who had taught her the wisdom of understanding what would please and what would depress him and making sure that no unpleasantness marred the hours they spent together.

She bore her child without a great deal of discomfort and to her great delight it was a boy. Moreover a healthy child; she had been a little nervous after what had happened to Margaret.

Edward came to her bedside, knelt and kissed her hands. He was gracious, grateful, loving and tender. She wondered how long it was since he had been with Mistress Shore.

'What do you wish the boy to be called?' she asked.

'Richard,' he replied promptly, 'after my brother who has always been a good friend to me. He will appreciate the honour.'

'He named his son after you, Edward,' she said, 'so it is only right and fitting that yours should be named after him.'

So the child became Richard and Elizabeth promised herself that she would keep him close to her for a year or so.

Elizabeth loved her children dearly and she did not forget the two she had before her marriage to Edward and although she could not do as much for them as she would have liked, she was determined that they should share in her good fortune. A landed endowment had already been provided for them and Thomas was doing well; he was a favourite with the King and often joined him and Hastings in their adventures, for Thomas was only some ten years or so younger than the King and as the time passed he was becoming more and more of a companion to him. Thomas showed the same tendencies she feared. She had no doubt that her son like Hastings—or so she had heard—^had cast lascivious eyes on the desirable goldsmith's wife.

It had been a wrench for her to allow her little son Edward to be taken to Ludlow Castle and put into the charge of his chamberlain, Thomas Vaughan. The boy was so young—only three years old—but she had arranged that members of her family be appointed to the important posts of his household. Her brothers Edward and Richard were his councillors; and she had found a place there for her younger son by her first marriage. Richard Grey was Comptroller of the Prince's household. His governor however was her brother Anthony, for close as the bond was which bound the whole family together it was at its strongest between her and Anthony.

Her little son Edward would be brought up to be a good Woodville. There was no doubt of that; and if Edward knew this he raised no objection.

It was at this time that the King began to think of settling affairs in France. England had enjoyed a few years of prosperity but

with a little prompting from the Duke of Burgundy, Edward was of the opinion that an invasion of France providing it were successful would inspire the people to greater enthusiasm for him. The people liked their kings to be warlike; Edward Longshanks, Edward the Third and Henry the Fifth had all waged war satisfactorily. He could see no reason why the same should not apply to Edward the Fourth.

To raise an army he needed money and that must come from the people—every man and woman in the land. Taxation was never popular and it had laid the seeds of downfall for several of his predecessors. But Edward believed it would be different with him.

For one thing he was built in the mould of the great conquerors. He was meant to ride through the streets—acclaimed as the hero returning from his conquests. The situation in France had been such a humiliation when people remembered the glorious days of Henry the Fifth, and they looked to him to bring back glory to England.

But money! Where find the money? Perhaps he should collect it himself for he was sure people would give more willingly to him than to some tax levied on them by the Parliament. Suppose he make a progress through the country explaining to the people what he needed the money for. Would they not then give willingly?

He sent for Richard to come down from the North. The reunion was affectionate in the extreme. Richard had the same admiration as ever for his splendid brother; and Edward made it clear that he was grateful to Richard who had kept good order in the North so that for the first time Edward had had no need to worry about what was happening up there.

Richard talked of his pleasant life at Middleham, of his wonderful son Edward. The only thing that marred his happiness was his concern about Anne's health. Like her sister Isabel she suffered from a weakness of the lungs which on certain days made it difficult for her to get her breath. He had had the best doctors and they were sure the keen fresh northern air was good for her, so he was more hopeful now.

Edward took him to see the new baby Richard.

'Your namesake, brother,' he said. Richard admired the baby and as he had visited the young Prince of Wales at Ludlow on his way down was able to assure the Queen that her son was in the best possible health.

When Edward talked to him of the proposed war he was less happy.

Think of the taxes you will have to raise to get an army which can do any good in France.'

'I have already thought of it and how I will raise the money. Burgundy will be with us. We will give Louis a fight and it may well be that we shall regain all the territory we have lost in the last years.'

'Are you sure that Burgundy does not want you to fight his battles for him?'

'If he does/ said Edward, 'he will be disappointed. Come, Richard, prepare. Very soon I shall have Louis suing for peace.'

'First you must raise the army.'

'I intend to,' replied Edward, 'and such an army that Louis will tremble at the sight of it and mayhap we shall come to some terms—most advantageous to us—without much fighting. Battles do not always go to the best fighters, Richard. Strategy is more important than strength sometimes. Warwick taught me that. . . .'

Edward was silent suddenly thinking of Warwick. . . . Not a great warrior really, but a strategist of genius ... a man who could turn a defeat on the battlefield into a victory in diplomacy.

He was constantly remembering what Warwick had taught him, and there was always an element of sadness when he did. He had to stop thinking of Warwick the traitor and remember Warwick the teacher and all the golden rules he had taught his pupil.

Richard said nothing. He knew the trend of Edward's thoughts.

Edward had meant what he said when he had declared he would collect the money himself and very soon was setting out on a tour of the country. In all the towns and villages, people flocked to hear him speak and they marvelled at his handsome looks.

A king to be proud of, they said. They decorated the market squares with flags and prominent among these was the badge of the white rose in the heart of the blazing sun. The white rose at the very heart of the sun of York. But the King himself was more splendid than any device.

They rejoiced in him; in his excessive good looks, his affable manners, his smiles, his willingness to share a joke, his laughter

which rang out wherever he was, his splendid garments all in exquisite taste, made of him a king to be proud of.

And if he wanted money in order to bring the French King to his knees, he should have it. If they had to give there was no one on whom they would rather bestow it.

He visited the houses; blatantly, but so charmingly, he asked for money—and he got it.

There was one case which people were to talk of for years to come because it was so typical of what happened on that progress through the country.

A widow of certain means was asked for twenty pounds which she graciously gave. She was not uncomely and to express his gratitude for her ready compliance with his request, the King kissed her, whereupon she was so overcome that she immediately said she would double her contribution: the first twenty pounds were for the war, the second for the handsomest man in England.

There were few who could have toured the country asking for money and made a triumphant progress of it but Edward did, and emerged from it ever more popular than when he had set out. The people deemed it well worth while to have paid their money to receive a smile and a friendly word from such a king– and in the case of the comely widow—a kiss.

In due course Edward was ready to cross the Channel at the head of a considerable army. He had fifteen hundred men at arms, fifteen thousand archers on horseback, and innumerable foot soldiers. In addition to this army he had equipped another smaller one to go to Brittany in order to aid the Duke whom the French were threatening to attack. He had a reason for wishing to make the Duke of Brittany his ally, for sheltering there was Jasper Tudor with his nephew Henry. Jasper had been one of the leading Lancastrians and although if he were to return to England now there would be little support for him, Edward liked to know where these Tudors were and he could at any time if he remained friendly with the Duke of Brittany ask for their extradition.

Edward was well aware that so many men had rallied to his banner because they hoped to bring back to their homes some of the spoils of war. They wanted French booty. Edward however had other ideas. To fight the French would be to embark on another war such as that which had taken one hundred years to settle, which had swayed back and forth over those years, costing blood and money and eventually had ended by driving the

<>

English almost completely out of France.

No, Edward wanted something, but it was not war. He wanted some alliance, some monetary reward for holding off a war . . . bribe some might call it. But that was all part of the fortunes of war.

So if these men whom he had gathered together were spoiling for a fight, Edward was not. It was almost as though Warwick were at his shoulder. He would have liked to discuss this matter with Richard but it was something of which Richard would not approve. Rivers . . . ? Well, Rivers agreed with him whatever he did, which was comforting almost always, although there were times when a man wanted an honest opinion.

As soon as he had landed in France he wrote a letter to Louis couched in formal terms. He must give up the crown of France to Edward or face a bitter war.

Having written the letter he called one of his most trusted men to him.

'What I have to say to you,' he said, 'is too important to be trusted to writing. You must swear secrecy on this. Do so now.'

The man swore that nothing should prise the secret, or whatever it was, from him.

'You will take this letter to the King of France and when he has read it you will ask to speak to him in private. He will see you and you will tell him that you know I have no wish to invade France, but that I have threatened to do so to satisfy my people and the Duke of Burgundy. If the King of France would come to some agreement which would be to the advantage of the King of England, your master would graciously consider it. Now is that clear?'

'Absolutely so, my lord.'

'You should also say that I shall not be prepared to listen to any proposition unhl my entire army is landed on French soil and as it is so large that will take at least three weeks.'

'I understand, my lord.'

'Tell the King that he will have that time to decide what he will be able to offer me to avert this long and destructive war on French land.'

The King's messenger bowed his head and went off to do his mission.

Edward's suspicion that the Duke of Burgundy had wished the English to fight his battles with the French was confirmed when the Duke came to meet him, not at the head of an army but with nothing more than a personal bodyguard and in the first meehng explaining, with some embarrassment that he had to leave at once for the defence of Luxembourg.

Louis in the meantime had followed Edward's lead in sending a herald to the English camp who was more than he appeared to be. This man told Edward in a private interview that Louis was prepared to consider the suggestions which had been put to him and suggested a meeting at Picquigny.

Edward called together a council of his commanders. This included his brothers Clarence and Gloucester, the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk, his stepson Thomas, Rivers, Hastings and a few others. Edward laid the proposition before them. The Duke of Burgundy had gone to Luxembourg and had therefore deserted them; the King of France was ready to treat for peace. It seemed to Edward that they might come very well out of the excursion without having been engaged in the smallest battle.

Richard spoke up. The people paid their benevolences to win victory in France. The soldiers have joined your banner in the hope of capturing booty to take home. The people want to hear of victories. You have taken their money under false pretences if you do not fight.'

Edward looked at his brother quizzically. 'My dear brother,' he said, 'you are over concerned with this scrupulous reckoning of yours. Wars have done no good to our country. We have lost all we won. Now we stand a chance of getting something very substantial from the King of France without bloodshed or the loss of our equipment.'

'I see your point,' said Richard. 'But what will the people say? They will not get what they paid their taxes for . . . call them benevolences if you will, they are still taxes.'

'I tell you great good will come from this. You will be surprised what the King of France is ready to pay for peace.'

'To pay to whom?' asked Richard. 'To the soldiers who have come for booty? To the people at home who have paid for a war?'

Edward laid his hand on his brother's shoulder. 'Richard,' he said, 'the others among us see my point. They will follow me in this.'

'And you would do it if they did not/ said Richard with a shrug of his shoulders.

'You will see/ said Edward.

He then discussed the terms he would put before Louis. First there should be a truce of seven years duration; there should be free trading between the two countries. Louis would pay Edward seventy-five thousand gold crowns immediately and fifty thousand a year; the Dauphin should marry Edward's eldest daughter Elizabeth.

These terms seemed very harsh but to the amazement of the English Louis accepted them. It had all been so much easier than Edward had thought and he could not see that the arrangement was anything but a triumph of strategy. He had amassed an enormous army which seemed invincible; he had come to France and so frightened Louis that he had been eager to make terms at once.

When Charles of Burgundy came riding with all speed to Edward's camp he demanded to know why Edward had made such terms with the enemy.

'The King of France is no longer my enemy/ said Edward. 'My daughter is to marry his son.'

Burgundy sneered. 'And you think Louis will ever allow that to come to pass?'

'We are coming to an amicable agreement about the matter. . . and others.'

Burgundy was furious. 'So you come with your armies like a conqueror and slink away like a paid lackey of the King of France.'

Edward retained his imperturbable good humour. 'Not so. Not so. I shall leave as triumphantly as I came—a richer man and my armies intact to make sure the peace stays with us.'

Burgundy left in a rage and Edward could not repress his gratification to see the mighty Duke so nonplussed.