Текст книги "The Sun in Splendour"

Автор книги: Jean Plaidy

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Текущая страница: 9 (всего у книги 25 страниц)

So here was the girl.

Pale, pretty, charming in a way, and so young. As young as Margaret had been when she came to England. How full of hope she had been then; the daughter of an impoverished man with the somewhat empty title of King, she had realized her good

fortune. This girl's fate was similar yet it was her father's power and riches which had brought her to this stage.

'Rise, my dear/ she said. 'Come close to me.'

She looked into the pale oval face, at the eyes which were shadowed with apprehension and the heart of Margaret of Anjou which alternated from being as hard as stone to being as soft as butter, began to melt.

'There is no need to fear,' she said. 'You are to be with me until we can return to England. You are to be the bride of the finest young man in the world. There.'

She drew her forward and kissed her cheek.

She might hate the father—even though he was her ally now– but she could not hate this pale trembling girl.

There was a formal meeting between Anne and her husband-to-be. Edward was handsome, slim and nearly eighteen years old. He looked curiously at Anne and taking her hand kissed it in accordance with what was expected of him.

Edward had no great desire to marry but he knew this marriage was necessary and it had to be this girl because her father was the great Kingmaker who could put men on the throne and then take the throne away from them. He had been brought up to hate him because his mother had always said it was Warwick who had made Edward King. It was particularly galling to her because after the second battle of St Albans which she had won, Warwick had marched to London and claimed the throne for Edward.

That was all past history and now a glittering prospect was opening before them. To make it a possibility certain unpleasant conditions had been demanded. One was friendship with Warwick; another was the Prince's marriage to his daughter.

But at their meeting he was agreeably surprised. She looked so gentle, so eager to please. She was pale and delicate-looking but he did not mind that. Although he himself was handsome his features were of a somewhat effeminate mould. He knew this had worried his mother who had wanted to make a warrior of him. For that reason she had made him be present when he was quite young at a bloody execution. In fact she had asked him to give the verdict on two men whom she considered had betrayed her. He vividly recalled saying what he knew was expected of him: 'Let us have their heads.'

And the execution had been carried out in his sight. He had known then that heads were not only hacked off. There was blood ... so much blood.

Yet he had sat through it and his mother had said she was proud of him. He had to do those things because his handsome face would have done for a girl as well as a boy and he had to show that he made up in warlike spirit for what he lacked in strong and masculine looks.

And now here was Anne Neville—a quiet, self-effacing girl. He was glad of that. He would have expected the daughter of Warwick to be a forceful lady . . . someone rather like his mother.

'So they are going to marry us/ he said.

He spoke in a friendly way and she sensed that he was as apprehensive as she was. There was an immediate rapport between them. Anne smiled and her smile beauhfied her face, wiping away the fear.

She is very pretty, thought the Prince. Perhaps it is not so bad after all. . . even though she is Warwick's daughter.

She thought: He looks kind, so it is not so bad . . . even though he is not Richard.

At the end of July the ceremony of betrothal took place in the Cathedral of Angers. The marriage would be celebrated, Margaret of Anjou had declared, when her husband Henry the King was safely on the throne.

The ceremony was binding however and although she was not yet quite a wife, Anne regarded the young Prince as her husband.

The Countess was delighted that Margaret had taken a liking to her daughter and she herself was finding it easier than she had believed possible to feel friendly towards the Queen.

Warwick had left for England to put his plan into action and they were all waiting with eagerness for the result. Because it was Warwick's plan and Warwick was in charge of its success, incredible as it was, they found it easy to believe that it would succeed.

In the meantime the King of France was determined to show them that he was their friend. This of course was due to the fact that the Duke of Burgundy was Edward's ally and the friendship between those two had become stronger since the marriage of Edward's sister Margaret with the Duke.

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They did not intend to stay in Angers and after Warwick's departure they left for Paris. Louis had sent a guard of honour to escort them and Margaret entered Paris as a Queen. With her were her son, Anne, and the Countess of Warwick. She was happier than she had been for years.

All she wanted now was to hear that Warwick's plan had succeeded and that she with the Prince was to return to England to take up their rightful positions there.

The streets of Paris were gaily decorated on the orders of the King and they took up their residence at the Palace of St Pol, where they lived in luxury which was all the more appreciated because of the hardships they had all so recently suffered.

Time passed slowly and each day they waited eagerly for news.

At last it came.

King Henry had been freed from the Tower and was in possession of the Kingdom. Once more Warwick had succeeded.

Margaret was wild with joy; the Prince was exuberant.

'Now we shall return to England and claim our own,' he declared.

Anne was wondering what had happened to Edward and most of all to Richard.

Edward was in the North w hen news of Warwick's arrival was brought to him. He could not believe it. Warwick—to join forces with Margaret of Anjou! Anne Neville betrothed to the Prince! He was astounded. He had always refused to believe that Warwick could really become his enemy.

He was concerned for Elizabeth and the children who were in London and to make matters more awkward Elizabeth was far advanced in pregnancy. Cecily was merely a year or so old and even the eldest, another Elizabeth, was only five. Warwick would very likely have the South-east with him, for he had always been popular there.

Edward rejoiced that Montague could be trusted to hold the North. John Neville, Lord Montague was the only Neville who had failed to support his brother, and he remained faithful to Edward. This had been a great help because Montague was one of the most successful captains in England. It was a source of great irritation to Warwick that a member of the family should not

support him. But Montague had sworn allegiance to the Yorkist cause as they all had in the beginning and he was not going to break his word now just because his brother had.

At least that was before Edward had restored estates to the Earl of Northumberland which Montague had looked upon as his. For his successful campaigns he had been awarded the title of Marquis of Montague but of what use was that with only what had been called a 'pye's nest' to maintain it.

Edward had forgotten this and did not realize that he had committed another of his mistakes in judging the characters of men. Montague had fought for him and stood beside him against his own brother and all he had been given was an empty title. Now Warwick had landed in England.

Edward was completely shocked when news came to him that Montague had rallied his men and called for Henry and that he was now marching to join Warwick. Edward was deserted and in the direst danger.

He was dining with his brother Richard, Hastings and Rivers when a messenger came galloping hot speed from Montague's camp.

'My lord, my lord,' he cried. 'Lord Montague has turned against you. He is already on the march. There is not a moment to lose. He is calling for King Henry and his brother and his army are with him. He is coming here to capture you and take you a prisoner to the Earl of Warwick.'

So Warwick was marching from the South and Montague, the traitor who had suddenly decided to change sides, was coming from the North. If he remained here he would be caught in a pincer movement between the two of them.

Richard was looking at him waiting for his orders. The dear boy would do everything he asked of him.

'There is only one thing we can do,' he said. 'We have to escape. Come. Every second is precious. Rally the men. We must get to the coast. We'll make our way to my sister of Burgundy. But first. . . to the sea.'

Richard was wondering whether they should stay and fight.

'A handful of us against an army!' cried Edward. 'There can be no more than eight hundred of us. No, brother, all the courage in the world—and 1 know you have that—would avail us nothing. We will go . . . for the time. But it is only a breathing space. We shall be back. Then woe to Warwick.'

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They were fortunate. They reached Lynn in safety and in a short while were on their way to Holland.

Elizabeth was preparing for the birth of her fourth child by Edward. She was certain this time it would be the longed-for boy. She must be grateful that she could bear children so easily and so quickly following one on another; it was a great asset in a Queen.

She had decided that the Tower would be a good place for the birth and she had had an apartment made ready there for her lying in. It was very elaborate with crimson damask and fine Brittany linen—a room worthy of the King's son.

Mrs Cobbe, the midwife who had attended her before and on whose skill she felt she could rely, was in attendance already. There were a few weeks to go, but one could never be sure with babies. Jacquetta had agreed with her that every precaution should be taken. Edward was in the North and she hoped that she would soon be sending joyful news to him.

There was something strange going on in the streets. She had been aware of it all day. She had gone to the window and seen them on the other side of the river gathering in crowds. The people were getting excited.

She wondered what was happening. Was Edward returning unexpectedly? He always liked to be close when his children were bom.

Elizabeth was serenely content. She had still kept her hold on Edward after nearly six years of marriage; he was as devoted and as loving as ever; it was true he had his mistresses, but as that gave her a little respite from the indefatigable man she should perhaps rejoice rather than lament. She could say that she held his affections; he found in her an ideal wife. No recriminations; acceptance of his need for mistresses; agreeing with him and only asserting herself in matters which were of the utmost importance to her and which would not greatly affect him. If he knew she meddled as she had done in the marriages of her family and the case of Lord Desmond, he said nothing. She allowed him his amatory adventures and that meant a great deal to him. Of course he would not have discontinued them however much she protested but he was above all a man who liked to live in peace and that was what she allowed him to do.

Moreover she gave him children—girls so far but the boys would come.

And this by the way she carried him, so said Mrs Cobbe, was a boy; and Mrs Cobbe would not deceive her just to please her for a while. That was not Mrs Cobbe's nature.

Her mother came into the apartment and it was immediately clear that Jacquetta was disturbed.

There is a great murmuring going on in the streets.'

'What is wrong with them now?'

There are rumours that Warwick has landed.'

'Warwick? He was driven out.'

'That does not prevent his coming back. They say he has landed and is bringing an army with him.'

'That's impossible.'

'No, I'm afraid not. I have kept the news from you for the last few days because I thought it was not good for you to worry in your condition. But it is getting serious now. Do you know what they are saying? Warwick has joined with Margaret of Anjou and their purpose is to put Henry back on the throne.'

'What!' cried Elizabeth, her face losing its delicate colour.

'My dear, you must not distress yourself, but I think it is time we took some action.'

'Where is Warwick now?'

'They say he is on the way to London. They are expecting him.'

'Warwick ... on his way here! Then what will become of us . . . ?'

'I think we are unsafe here.'

'They would not dare to harm us . . . Edward will soon be here.'

'My dear daughter, I know you will be calm. The news is worse than I have told you. Edward has fled the country. Montague has deserted and Edward with Richard, Hastings and Anthony got away from Lynn by boat. They have gone to somewhere on the Continent.'

'I can't believe it. We were so . . . safe.'

'Life changes. But what are we going to do? If you stay here you will be Warwick's prisoner.'

'And when you consider what he did to our father and John ... I could kill him, for what he did to them.'

'I too,' said Jacquetta quietly. 'But we have to think of ourselves now; it is a matter of safety not revenge . . . just yet. Edward will

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come back, 1 know. But in the meantime we have to think of what would be best for us to do.'

The Queen looked round the apartment which she had so carefully prepared. There was the new feather bed—quite the most luxurious she had ever seen—and she must leave all this and go . . . but where?

'We should get out of London perhaps/ she said.

'In your condition! And with the little girls. Nay, I have an idea. We will go to Westminster ... to the Sanctuary. He will not dare to touch us there.'

Elizabeth was silent for a while. Her mother was right. They had to get away from Warwick and quickly.

'Then,' she said, '. . . to the Sanctuary. Send for Mrs Cobbe and tell her that we must go.'

Mrs Cobbe who was never far away came running in with a dismayed look on her honest face for she immediately thought that the Queen had started her pains.

She was relieved to see that this was not so for it was a few weeks too early but when she heard about the plans for flight she was very disturbed.

The Queen is in no condition . . .'she began.

'The Queen is in no condition to be Warwick's prisoner, Mrs Cobbe. We have to go. There is no help for it. But not far. We shall go to Westminster to the Sanctuary.'

'Then we must go carefully,' said Mrs Cobbe. 'We want no early birth for this one. He's going to be a boy, that he is.'

Mrs Cobbe gathered together all she thought they could take with them and Elizabeth with Jacquetta and Lady Scrope, who was in attendance, Mrs Cobbe and the three little girls made their way out of the tower to the water's edge.

Mrs Cobbe lifted little Cecily into the waihng barge and Lady Scrope helped Elizabeth and Mary while Jacquetta gave her attention to her daughter.

The barge started up the river to Westminster.

'I pray we shall be in time,' said Lady Scrope.

They had reached the tall square keep beside St Margaret's church near the graveyard and west door of the Abbey.

It looked cold and uninviting and Cecily began to whimper.

'Hush my precious,' murmured Mrs Cobbe and Elizabeth said in a shrill voice: 'I want to go back. I don't like it here.'

'I don't like it/ added Mary, who repeated everything Elizabeth said.

'Now now children/ said Lady Scrope, 'we are all very happy to be here. It is nice and safe and that is the best of all.'

'/ don't think it's best of all/ said Elizabeth. 'It's cold and I want to go.'

'Be silent, children,' said Jacquetta. 'You will do as you are told and you are all going to sleep soon.'

They were a little in awe of Jacquetta and said nothing more.

But all the adults could well understand the children's revulsion. The Sanctuary was not made for comfort.

There were two storeys in the Tower. On the upper floor was the church and the lower floor had been turned into a dwelling for fugitives who feared that they were in danger. It was considered to be holy ground and no one would dare touch them while they sheltered there. The place was dark and cold and the only light that came in was through narrow arched windows of which there were only two cut into those thick stone walls.

Mrs Cobbe looked round. She wondered if she could go back to the Tower and bring a few more articles with her which they would need. She had managed to bring a certain amount but she would need more.

Elizabeth was reluctant to let her go but Mrs Cobbe overruled her objections. 'Who would harm a poor midwife?' she asked.

'Warwick would . . . if he knew you were mine.'

'Trust me, my lady. And who knows, your pains could start at any time after all this upset. I shall go back.'

And go back she did, for which Elizabeth was to be grateful for the good woman brought back several articles without which their sojourn in the Sanctuary would have been even more uncomfortable . . . and possibly dangerous. Moreover she brought food with her for on the way she had met the good butcher who supplied the Tower, one William Gould with whom she was on particularly good terms. He told her that Warwick's army was on the outskirts of London and that they had escaped from the Tower just in time. They were going to be hungry in the Sanctuary, so he had given her some beef and mutton and some of his very special pork pies.

'He is a good man, my lady,' said Mrs Cobbe. 'He has promised me that he will keep an eye on us while we are here and see that we do not starve.'

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'And you are a good creature, Mrs Cobbe/ said the Queen.

'I do not know what we should do without you/ added Jacquetta.

They tried some of the excellent pork pie and to their astonishment found they could eat even overcome by anxiety as they were. Elizabeth was wondering what could have happened to Edward and if she would ever see him again, and whether her brief glory was at an end. Jacquetta was silent. She hated Warwick. There was a very special fear in her heart for he had tried to accuse her of witchcraft and just after the death of her dear husband and beloved son had shown an image to the King which he had said she had made of him.

Warwick had implied that Edward had been forced to marry Elizabeth through witchcraft which was practised by her mother and that the image was meant to be the King and that she was plotting against his life.

Edward had laughed that to scorn. It was all so ridiculous. Why should she plot against his life when all the blessings the Woodville family enjoyed came from him? It showed though how Warwick hated her. How she hated them all! Indeed this war between Warwick and Edward was about the Woodvilles. It was because they had ousted the Nevilles from the King's favour. So assuredly Warwick hated them—her, her sons and Elizabeth . . . Elizabeth most of all ... and all the little children.

How wise they were to throw themselves into Sanctuary. They must remain here. Warwick would never dare to touch them then. But how vulnerable they would be . . . here in Westminster while Warwick took London.

We must be safe, though, she thought. Elizabeth must have her child. Warwick would never dare to harm us.

It soon became clear that they had come just in time. Warwick reached London where he was well received, and Mrs Cobbe, having paid another visit to the butcher Gould, came in with the news that King Henry had been taken from his prison in the Tower.

'They say he was in a terrible state,' she said. 'Not as a king should be by any means. They say he was dirty and frighted in a way, wondering what it was all about and muttering prayers and things like that. The Earl had him washed and fed and put into purple and ermine. They've put him in the royal apartments, my

ladies. They say his bedchamber is the one that was made ready for our little baby.'

Elizabeth closed her eyes. She was filled with rage to think of all the care that had gone into the making of that apartment—the damask hangings, the feather bed ... for Henry of Lancaster! It was infuriating.

'Gould says there's to be a procession to St Paul's. He is to be the new King, my lady, so they say. Don't you fret. My lord King Edward will not stay long away from you.'

Jacquetta was tight-lipped, seeking to see good omens and refusing to accept bad ones. But the future looked dark indeed with Edward in exile and Warwick back in command putting a new King on the throne.

But soon for a while they ceased to think about what was happening outside for Elizabeth's baby was about to be born.

In spite of all that had happened it was a comparatively easy birth and to the delight of Elizabeth and her mother the child was healthy and a boy.

It was ironical that this longed-for event should come while Elizabeth was in Sanctuary and Edward far away.

'We'll call him Edward,' said Elizabeth.

She would look back on those days as some of the strangest in her life. Jacquetta perhaps suffered most. She was getting old and was unused to discomfort. Elizabeth was better able to endure them. Her calm nature was a great asset in such circumstances and she was firmly convinced that Edward would soon come back and defeat the traitor Warwick and put imbecile King Henry back where he belonged. The children grew accustomed to life in the Sanctuary very quickly and Mary at any rate could scarcely remember anything else. As for Cecily she was quite unaware of the change in her surroundings. Young Elizabeth now and then asked when they were going home, but at length she too accepted the Sanctuary as home.

Elizabeth the Queen declared she would never forget the services of Mrs Cobbe and the butcher. One she declared had saved her child and the other had saved them from starvation.

Warwick had quickly show^n that he was not going to concern himself with them. He would be very unpopular if he attacked a woman and her little children. He regarded Elizabeth as of no importance now that Edward was in exile.

He could go straight ahead with his plans which meant that he

would be ruling through Henry. Margaret would in due course come to England with her son the Prince of Wales and Anne; and in due course his daughter would be Queen of England. A notable achievement for a Kingmaker.

So why bother with Elizabeth Woodville? Let her stay in Sanctuary with her brood. She was no concern of his.

It was not dificult for messengers to get to the Sanctuary. Elizabeth was considerably heartened to hear that Edward had reached Bruges and was being given shelter there by his sister Margaret, the Duchess of Burgundy. She should be of good heart for he would soon be back with her where he belonged.

It was cheering news.

Warwick raised no objection to the little Prince's being baptized in the Abbey. There was no ceremony attached to the proceedings and Elizabeth compared this with the baptism of her girls. How strange that this should be the lot of the long-awaited son!

But Edward's words were with her. It would not be long. Jacquetta assured her that the signs were that Edward would indeed be back.

Christmas came and went. The little Prince who had been bom on the 1st of November continued to thrive. They tried to celebrate the festival as well as they were able and because of the goodness of the butcher they were not without food. Mrs Cobbe and Lady Scrope managed to get some warmer clothing for them all and so they struggled on.

'God send the spring quickly this year/ said Jacquetta. Her eyes were shining with a strange prophetic light. 'With the spring will come escape from this sad state, I know.'

Elizabeth believed her. It helped her to bear the hardships.

Margaret of Burgundy welcomed her brothers to her Court at Bruges. She was delighted to be of service to them but distressed at the cause of their visit. Margaret had already made her mark at the Burgundian Court. She had inherited her strong character from her mother and she seemed more than ever to resemble Proud Cis; but there was a kindliness in her nature which her mother lacked and this trait had already made her loved and respected at her husband's Court.

Charles, the Duke, was pleased with his wife. Margaret was a

good stepmother to his son and daughter of his first marriage. She was devoted to her own family and she put herself absolutely at the disposal of her brother in his need. It was fortunate that Burgundy was Edward's ally and that relations between Louis of France and the Duke were very antagonistic. Louis of course was Warwick's friend and had helped him to return to England, so it was only natural therefore that Burgundy should help Edward; and since the Duchess of Burgundy was Edward's sister that made it all the easier.

Strangely enough what distressed the Duchess almost as much as Edward's loss of his throne—though they all insisted that that was temporary—was the defection of Clarence. That one member of the family should proclaim himself the enemy of another, was to her intolerable.

Secretly she made up her mind that she would try to persuade George to stop this nonsense. She had always been rather fond of George—more so than she had of Richard. She knew that Richard was perhaps more worthy, that he was good, studious and devoted to Edward. She knew too that George was too fond of eating, drinking—particularly drinking—and generally indulging himself. He was vain, because he had a certain charm; he was handsome though they all suffered by comparison with Edward; he was clever in a way, sharp, crafty rather than brilliant. But how could one explain one's likes and dislikes? George had always been a favourite of hers.

He must be made to realize the dishonour of turning to Warwick against his own brother.

Edward was astounded by the splendour of the Court at Bruges. He had always known that Burgundy was not only the most powerful man in France but the richest, but this far surpassed his own Courts at Westminster and Windsor and he had been considered somewhat extravagant in his love of tasteful decorations and furniture.

But this was no time for such comparisons. His great aim was to get help which would enable him to sail back to England, to rout out Warwick and when he had done so. . . . What? The idea of beheading Warwick could arouse no enthusiasm in him. There was so much he could remember of Warwick. How he had adored him in the old days! And to think it had come to this was so distressing. One of the worst aspects of being driven out of his kingdom was the fact that Warwick had done it.

Although Margaret was passionately devoted to her brother's cause, her husband was reluctant to support Edward outwardly.

'Louis is waiting for a chance to attack me,' he said, 'and if he and the Lancastrians joined up against me ... I should be in a difficult position. Louis is trearing Margaret and her son as very honoured guests . . . friends even. I have to go carefully.'

He was willing to help Edward in secret but he would not come out in the open and do so. This was frustraring, for the acknowledged support of the Duke would have gone a long way.

However, Edward was optimistic. Each week brought new help. The merchants had always been aware of Edward's superior qualities as a ruler and were ready to support him and money came to him from the Hanseatic towns. As the months passed he could see the day coming nearer when it would be possible for him to land with an army which could win him a victory over his enemies.

During those months he became very interested in an Englishman who had taken service in the Burgundian Court under the patronage of his sister. This was a certain William Caxton who had begun his career as a mercer to a rich merchant called Large who had been Lord Mayor of London. Caxton had gone to Bruges on the death of the Mayor.and became associated with the merchant adventurers. He became a successful businessman and did much to promote trade between England and the Low Countries. But as he grew older—he must have been about fifty years of age when Edward arrived at his sister's Court—he became interested in literature, and when Margaret suggested he join her Court and continue his writing, Caxton gladly accepted the invitation.

Edward talked to him of the merchant adventurers with whom he had had some dealing but he was more interested in his literary work, particularly a book which he was translating called Le Recueil des Histoires de Troye.

They discussed together the interest of such a work to many people and how unfortunate it was that so few could read it as there was only one copy and it took so long to make another.

Caxton had heard of a process which had been invented in Cologne and which was called a printing-press. He had seen this and had been most interested in it. Edward listened and agreed that it would be a very good thing to have and he wondered whether it would be possible to bring it to England. Caxton was

sure it would be and when he had finished his translation he intended to go again to Cologne and then possibly set up a press in Bruges.

'I will remember that,' Edward told him, 'and I hope that when we are in a happier state in England you will visit the Court there.'

Caxton said that it would be an honour to do so, for although he had lived long abroad and had been made most welcome in the Duchess's Court he did often long for his native land.

The weeks passed quickly and during them Edward worked indefatigably building up arms and men in preparation for crossing the Channel. By March he had accumulated a force of some twelve thousand men and with Richard of Gloucester and Earl Rivers he set sail from Flushing. The weather was against him and it was ten days before he reached Cromer. Some of his men landed to test the state of opinion in that area and discovered that it was solidly in Warwick's control; he sailed on northwards and finally landed at Ravenspur.

It was not as easy as he had thought for what the people dreaded more than anything was civil war. They had favoured Edward but Edward had been driven out of the country. True, they knew Henry was weak, but Warwick was behind him and Warwick had that aura of greatness which they respected.