Текст книги "The Red Rose of Anjou"
Автор книги: Jean Plaidy
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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 24 страниц)
It soon became very clear that there was only one condition which the King of France would consider in making peace and that was the surrender of Maine. It was the great issue. He knew, and the English knew, that once that province was surrendered the English hope of claiming the French crown would be over.
When they were alone Margaret discussed the matter with Henry.
‘You want peace,’ she said. ‘You should give up Maine. I know my uncle well. If he says that is the only condition, he will insist on it. He means it.’
‘Oh, he means it,’ said Henry. ‘I have no doubt of that. If it rested with me alone I would say: Take Maine, let us have no more war. No more loss of life. No more high taxation. But the people...what will they say? My father gained so much. They have come to expect victories.’
‘They have had very few of late.’
‘No, not since the Maid came. But they believe that will pass. This war, you see, has been going on and on and up and down. It is down now but they think it will go up again.’
‘And yet they protest about paying taxes for it.’
‘People always protest about paying taxes. They want the war to end...but victoriously for us.’
‘Henry, the English are beaten.’
‘The English are never beaten until the last battle.’
‘Do not have any more battles. They are useless, Henry. They bring you no good.’
‘I know. War is waste of men and materials. People should be enjoying the beauties of life. But what can I do?’
‘Give up Maine,’ said Margaret softly.
###
Gloucester was gleeful. The Cardinal was a sick man and had had to retire from affairs. One enemy the less, thought Gloucester.
He now concentrated his attack on Suffolk.
Suffolk was a friend of the French. He had brought the Frenchwoman over. He was going to sell English possessions in France to the French just to buy the King a pretty French wife.
Were the people going to stand by and allow this to happen? Gloucester knew how to set up a whispering campaign. He was going to bring Suffolk down and perhaps the King and Queen. Who knew what would happen then? Perhaps his dream would be realized. He was the next of kin.
York believed that he had a chance. York before Lancaster! He was a very ambitious man. During the negotiations for the marriage of Margaret and the King, York had been in correspondence with the King of France trying to arrange a marriage for his eldest son Edward with one of Charles’s daughters. Young Edward must be about three years old. Oh yes, York was ambitious all right and he had his eyes firmly fixed on the throne.
All very good. He would be a good adversary of Suffolk.
Gloucester went to see York. He was getting friendly with him. So it was when men had a similar aim, although the goal might not be the same for they were both after the crown.
‘What think you of this conference?’ he asked York.
‘The French are asking for the return of Maine and Anjou.’
‘And what say you as a soldier to that?’
‘That it is tantamount to saying goodbye to the crown of France.’
‘So say I. But we have married our King to a French Princess, have we not, and this is the price asked for her. The price of peace and Margaret.’
‘We already have her. Maine is for peace.’
The two men fell silent, then Gloucester said: ‘Our little Queen is very partial to Suffolk.’
‘She would be. She looks upon him as the maker of her marriage.’
‘Very fond of Suffolk.’
‘And his wife.’
‘But particularly Suffolk.’
‘You don’t mean...?’
‘Why not? She is young and lusty and I doubt Henry can give a good account of himself.’
‘Nay...Suffolk is devoted to Alice Chaucer and Alice is Margaret’s dear friend.’
‘What has that to do with the matter? This devotion to Suffolk can be for only one reason.’
‘Suffolk is an old man.’
‘Some girls like a little maturity, particularly when they are saddled with a young boy.’
‘The King is hardly that.’
‘In manners he is.’
‘I can’t believe it.’
‘How explain this devotion then?’
‘Well, he brought her over. He arranged her marriage. He was the first Englishman she had contact with...He and the Cardinal. She is devoted to the Cardinal too.’
‘I believe there is a special relationship between Suffolk and Margaret.’
York shrugged his shoulders. He was a little impatient. Gloucester had always been a fool, always plunging into wild adventures. Now he was letting his imagination run away with him.
Nevertheless within a very short time the scandal was being whispered in the taverns. ‘Have you heard...? Well, it must be true. I heard it from someone at Court. Yes...the Queen and whom do you think...Suffolk!’
The Queen Suffolk’s mistress! It was incredible. Could it be believed? She looked so young and innocent. ‘But,’ it was said, ‘you know the French. After all she is French. She is one with the enemy.’
‘They say the French are demanding that we give up all King Henry gained. He would turn in his grave.’
‘But we won’t. We can’t. The Duke of Gloucester will see to that.’
The people were becoming convinced that something had been arranged while the French Embassy was in London, and it was being kept from them.
The Queen was persuading the King to agree to the French proposals. Of course she was. She was one of them. She was the enemy.
People no longer carried the daisy. Something was very wrong, and they blamed Margaret.
You could never trust the French, they said. Margaret’s brief popularity was at an end.
###
When Suffolk heard the rumours he knew without a doubt who had set them in motion. He was aware of the friendship between York and Gloucester. They were working up a case against him and the fact that they had brought Margaret’s name in showed clearly that they were trying to turn the King against him.
It was no use delaying. It was quite obvious that Maine would have to be given up. The Queen was persuading the King and the King wanted to please her and bring about peace.
It had to be. Suffolk would have agreed at once if he had not feared the effect on the people, knowing that they would make him the scapegoat. Gloucester would see to that. That he was already working his mischief was clear.
Suffolk came to see the King. It was not difficult to play on his fears, and he was always ready to believe the worst of Gloucester. That matter of the Duchess’s involvement with the Witch of Eye and the others had had a marked effect on Henry. He believed that one day his uncle would stage a coup, murder him and take the throne.
Therefore it was simple.
Gloucester had made a long speech in Parliament urging that the truce be violated. He was working up feeling against the French and that meant the King’s marriage.
‘You see. Sire,’ said Suffolk, ‘we have to take some action. We know well that he is in collusion with York. Gloucester at least may be plotting against your very person.’
‘It would not surprise me,’ said Henry. ‘His wife did it once and I believe he may well have been with her. He is waiting his chance to try again.’
‘Sire, in my opinion we should call him to face the Parliament and answer certain charges against him.’
The King hesitated. It was a pity that the Cardinal had retired to Waltham. He could go and see him, of course, but the old man was quite aloof from politics now.
Henry had to make his own decision.
‘Where is Gloucester now?’ he asked.
‘I have heard, my lord, that he is in Wales.’
‘In Wales? What would he be doing there?’
‘Stirring up trouble, doubtless. I have heard that he is getting together an army.’
‘To come against me! Oh, I am weary of this uncle of mine. He has been nothing but a menace for as long as I can remember.’
‘Bring him before Parliament and let him answer to the charges brought against him. Parliament will be meeting at
Bury on the tenth of February. Is it your wish, my lord, that Gloucester be summoned to attend?’
‘Yes,’ said the King, ‘that is my wish.’
So Gloucester was summoned to Bury to attend the Parliament and answer certain charges which would be brought against him.
###
Gloucester was dead. The country was stunned. They knew, of course, that he had been murdered. In the towns and the countryside they talked of it.
The news spread rapidly. He had been riding through Lavenham to Bury. Many had seen him—just the same as usual, splendidly dressed, smiling and acknowledging the cheers of the people, certain of his popularity. Many of them knew that he was something of a rogue but they liked his roguery. The King was a saint, they said. Everyone could not be that and saints were uncomfortable people. Yes, they liked a rogue and for all his debaucheries and follies Gloucester had kept his place in their hearts. His marriage to a woman who was humble compared with him, his devotion to her, was appealing. It persisted and even now he was trying to obtain her release. Yes, Gloucester was a popular figure.
And what had happened? Riding to Bury he had been intercepted by the King’s guard, ordered to return to his lodgings and after a few days it was announced that he was dead. He had fallen sick and died. The people simply did not believe that he had died from natural causes.
The weather was bad, of course—many people had died of cold—it had been the worst winter many remembered; the Thames had been frozen and so had almost every river in the country. The Duke had lived too well for the years not to have taken some toll of him. But sudden death? No.
The day after his death his body was exhibited. The lords and the knights of the Parliament and the people flocked to see it. There was no sign of foul play. There were dark hints about Edward the Second who had died mysteriously in Berkeley Castle. They had inserted a red hot poker into him, destroyed his internal organs, and there had been no sign of foul play on his body except that expression of agony on his cold, still face. It was all very well for his enemies to express their grief and send Gloucester’s body to be taken in pomp to St. Albans to be laid in the fair vault which had been prepared for him during his lifetime. It was not good enough. The people would not believe that he had died by natural causes.
Moreover the servants of his household had been arrested. They were accused of plotting to make Duke Humphrey King. Gloucester’s illegitimate son known as Arthur was arrested with them and he, including four others, was condemned to die the traitor’s death.
Henry was very unhappy. He could not help feeling relieved that that arch-troublemaker Gloucester had been removed but at the same time he hated the thought of men being subjected to the horrible traitors’ death.
‘They have plotted against you,’ Margaret reminded him.
‘If they have done so it was at Gloucester’s orders,’ said Henry. ‘He was the one to be blamed.’
‘Well, he has paid the price now.’
‘What do you mean?’ asked Henry quickly.
‘I mean that God has taken him in the midst of his iniquities.’
‘I hope a priest was with him at the end."
‘Oh Henry,’ laughed Margaret, ‘will you always love your enemies?’
Suffolk came to see them. He did not want to talk of the rumours which were growing. They were too embarrassing. It was quite absurd to link his name with Margaret’s. Alice could laugh at the idea. Others might not.
But he saw that if the members of Gloucester’s household w ere condemned it would be tantamount to saying that there had been a plot, and if there had, it would seem that Gloucester might well have been murdered.
He laid the matter before the King. ‘The Duke of Gloucester died as he acted throughout his life,’ he said. ‘By which I mean he died to cause the most inconvenience to those around him. I do not believe there was a plot against the crown. If there was people will say that Gloucester was murdered...without trial. That is not so. If there was no plot then it seems very probable that Gloucester died a natural death which would be the happiest solution. My lord, I think our best plan is to free these servants of the late Duke.’
Nothing could please Henry better. Now he would not be disturbed by the revolting things that would be done to those men. He grasped at the idea.
‘Let us free them,’ he said. ‘They have been punished enough by contemplating a terrible fate. Yes, let them go free. There was no plot. My uncle died of his years and the strain he had put on them by a life of debauchery.’
So they were freed. But that did not stop the rumours.
The people still adhered to the story that Gloucester had been murdered. He was the enemy of the Duke of Suffolk, and the Queen had shown that she hated him.
The Queen had helped plan the murder, they whispered, and if she had not actually carried it out she was as guilty as those who had.
So Margaret, who had ridden through the streets of London to the acclaim of the people and the waving of daisies, was now-branded ‘Adulteress. Murderess. And French!’
###
Margaret found it difficult to understand the change in the attitude of the people towards her. When she rode out she was greeted with sullen stares. They did not abuse her. They whispered as she passed by, and she looked in vain for the daisies.
Bewildered and hurt, she demanded of Alice: ‘Why do they blame me for Gloucester’s death?’
They will always blame someone.’ Alice consoled her. ‘They blame William, too.’
‘It is true that I hated him.’ said Margaret. ‘But others must have done so too.’
‘The people always look for scapegoats in high places,’ Alice reminded her.
‘It makes me unhappy and...uneasy.’
Yes, thought Alice, it should do that.
She said: ‘You will have to act very carefully now. You must not show your pleasure in his death.’
Margaret shrugged her shoulders. She found it very hard to hide her feelings and she could not but feel relieved by the death of Gloucester.
She went to Grafton to see the Cardinal. He would have advice to offer her.
She was horrified to find him in his bed. He looked very ill—far worse than when she had last seen him.
She felt she could not burden him with her troubles. In any case he seemed too ill to listen to them. He was pleased to see her though and she sat by his bedside and tried to be cheerful.
He must get better, she told him. She needed him.
‘You will do well,’ he said. ‘You will look after the King.’
Only once did he mention Gloucester. ‘That trouble-maker has gone,’ he said. ‘Well, it was a fitting end. Do you know I have been told that some have accused me of having a part in his death.’ His face creased into a smile. ‘You see me in no fit state to do murder.’
‘They will say anything...anything!’ cried Margaret vehemently.
‘Indeed it is so. But these things are quickly forgotten. They look round. "Who was Gloucester’s enemy?" they say. "Oh...the Cardinal." Everyone knew of the enmity between us. It had been there for years. I always saw what a menace he was to the crown, to England. A pity others did not see it also. His brother Bedford did. Well, he has gone now. He can make no more trouble here on earth. And you, dear child, forgive my temerity in speaking to my Queen thus, but you are to me a very dear child and I love you and have great faith in you. You can be exactly what our King needs. He loves you. Who would not? You must guide him always, dear lady. Care for the King always...He will need your care. He is surrounded by enemies...but the greatest of them is dead now. Take care of him...’
‘I will, I will,’ said Margaret fervently. ‘But you talk as though you are going to leave us. You are not. I forbid it. You will stay with us. I need you.’
‘God bless you,’ said the Cardinal.
She sat by his bed but she could see how tired he was. He tried to struggle up when she left but she would not have it. She bent over and kissed him.
‘I shall come to you again...soon,’ she said.
But she did not for within a few weeks the Cardinal was dead.
Her grief was great. She had lost her worst enemy she believed and so soon after her best friend.
###
Alice was very worried. She did not like the rumours which were circulating about Gloucester’s death. She spoke to her husband about it.
‘You worry unduly,’ he assured her. ‘Gloucester’s death is the best thing that could happen to us.’
‘Yes, it would have been if he had died without mystery.’
‘The mystery will be forgotten shortly. In the meantime there is much to gain. Gloucester was rich and what will happen to his estates? His wife, a captive suspected of plotting against the King’s life through witchcraft, can claim nothing. There will be his estates to dispose of We shall do not badly out of that, I promise you.’
I was not thinking of estates,’ said Alice.
‘As I said you worry yourself unduly. All will be well. Margaret will have some of the estates but we shall have our share.’
Alice shivered.
‘What is the matter with you?’
‘Nothing. If you say all is well, all is well.’
He looked at her seriously. He was very fond of Alice and had never regretted their marriage. She had given him two sons and a daughter and it had been a very successful union. She was wise, too, and she did communicate a certain element of her apprehension to him. He admitted it at length.
‘Gloucester was my enemy,’ he said, ‘and Gloucester was a fool.’
‘Exactly,’ replied Alice. ‘You know now what I have in mind.’
‘There will be another enemy...less foolish perhaps.’
Alice nodded. ‘And you know who that will be.’
Suffolk replied in one syllable: ‘York.’
‘He will not be so reckless or so foolish as Gloucester.’
‘If the King could get an heir that would make it less easy for York.’
‘York will still be there. There is a purpose in him. He will bide his time.’
‘But if the Queen produces a son the people will love the child. Margaret will regain some of the popularity she has lost.’
‘If she gets a child.’
‘Is there no sign then?’
‘None. She would tell me if there were. I know that she is impatient and frustrated because she does not seem to be able to conceive.’
‘A child will make such a difference. The people might even take to wearing daisies again.’
‘We must pray for a child.’
‘With fervour. We need that child. In the meantime don’t fret about York. He must bide his time.’
‘And he will,’ said Alice.
‘In the meantime there will be a child. There must...and why should there not be? They are both young and healthy. The King dotes on her and she is fond of the King. It will come. It is because they are over anxious that they fail.’
Alice laid her hand on his arm. ‘We must be watchful of York.’
Her husband nodded.
It was a few days later when he came back to her obviously in very high spirits.
‘News, my love,’ he said. ‘I think you will find it good.’
She looked at him expectantly.
‘York is to be banished to Ireland.’
‘Banished?’
‘Well, it is tantamount to that. He has been appointed to be the King’s Lieutenant there for ten years. That will put him out of the picture for a while.’
‘He must be furious.’
‘He is. But what can he do? He cannot say: I want to stay in England and make an attempt on the crown, now can he? He must submit with a good grace. I have an idea that he will delay his departure for as long as he can. Never mind. He must go to Ireland.’
‘Henry agreed?’
‘I only had to tell him it was a good thing and Margaret helped as I had previously explained everything to her.’
‘It seems that one must go to the Queen before the King.’
‘Well, that is true. Margaret means to rule, and Henry is only too pleased to let someone else take over the role that he never really wanted.’
‘It is very good news indeed.’
‘There is more to come. There are some weighty titles coming our way. I already have the Earldom of Pembroke.’
‘From Gloucester’s estate?’ added Alice quietly.
‘Well, yes, and not only that but Chamberlain and Constable of Dover and Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports. I am to be Admiral of England as well. What do you think of that?’
‘I am overwhelmed and so must you be with so many honours.’
‘And in addition, my lady Marchioness, how would you like to become a Duchess?’
‘So...that as well.’
‘Behold the Duke of Suffolk.’
‘The King must be very pleased with you. He must love you well.’
‘The King,’ said the new Duke of Suffolk, ‘and the Queen as well.’
NICHOLAS OF THE TOWER
Henry was happier than he had ever been. He was delighted with his marriage. He believed he was surrounded by good ministers headed by the Duke of Suffolk, but he was grieved that his great-uncle the Cardinal had died. That had been a sadness and Margaret had felt it deeply. She had dearly loved the old man and she was very touched that he had left her all the fine scarlet damask and the bed which he had had made especially for her on her visits to Grafton.
‘I shall always treasure them,’ she said, but she wept bitterly and was sad every time she saw them.
She was recovering from her grief though, and she was interested in Henry’s plans for building. They visited the work frequently. He had enjoyed showing Margaret the College of the Blessed Mary of Eton beside Windsor. He had explained to her how interesting it had been studying the plans for the building and what a boon it would be to scholars. They would go on from the college to the one he was building at Cambridge. He was going to call it College Royal or King’s College to Our Lady and St. Nicholas.
Margaret was very interested. She said she would very much like to found a college herself.
Indeed she should, said Henry, and he thought how much pleasanter this was than the perpetual negotiations and plans for war.
Together they went to Cambridge and there Margaret met a certain Andrew Doket who was the rector of St. Botolph's there. He was very gratified by the interest of the King and Queen because he had already laid the foundation stones and he was seeking help in bringing about the building of a college. It was his greatest ambition but a lack of funds was a tremendous handicap to progress, but in view of royal interest his hopes were soaring and since Margaret wished to found a college why should she not work in conjunction with Doket?
He had intended to call the college The College of St. Bernard as before he had become rector of St. Botolph’s he had been the principal of the St. Bernard Hostel. But he was ready enough to change the name in order to get the college built and it was decided that it should be called Queen’s College of St. Margaret and St. Bernard.
Thus Margaret had a project to equal that of the King and they spent many happy hours glowing with enthusiasm, discussing plans and visiting sites. They had literature in common too. Margaret was very fond of Boccaccio’s work and she and Henry read this together. Then there was the hunt to occupy her. Henry did not follow her quite so enthusiastically in this but Margaret loved to ride for after a few hours over her books she found the chase invigorating. She loved to ride ahead of the rest of the party, to be the first in at the kill. That was something Henry liked to avoid, for bloodshed, even of animals, was abhorrent to him.
When Margaret discovered that certain of the courtiers had been hunting in the royal forest she immediately gave orders that the game should be preserved absolutely for her use. Henry had never given such orders and the fact that Margaret did so without consulting him indicated her imperious nature. Why should she have consulted Henry? she would have asked. He would agree to give her what she wanted. And that was the truth. Henry was living in a state of blissful happiness. He had a beautiful Queen whom he loved and who loved him. The foolish war with France was petering out. He had made peace by his marriage and Margaret and he with their books and music and founding their colleges were happy.
They had no child as yet and that was a source of regret; but it would come. Margaret was very young and he was not old.
When their child was born, they would have reached perfection.
He deeply regretted the death of the Cardinal but then as though to balance that, Gloucester was dead also. York was to go to Ireland—although he was taking a long time to set out. Everything could be safely left in the capable hands of the Duke of Suffolk and Henry need only concern himself with his happy life.
And it was a happy time. He and Margaret made a tour of the country’s monasteries. They went to the Austin Friary at Lynn and as far north as Durham.
In the midst of all these mutual pleasures Margaret received letters from France; among them was one from her father. There had been great delays, he complained, and he begged her for the good of England, he said, as well as for that of France, to urge the surrender of Maine to the King of France.
Margaret thought of the matter a great deal. She knew that the English were clinging to Maine as one of the most important of their possessions in France. They should give it up. It belonged to France and if it were returned to that country her father would profit, for it would be restored to the House of Anjou.
She wrote to her father. I will do your pleasure as much as lies in my power as I have done already.’
She and Henry had had a happy day. They had been to the colleges and had indulged in a little friendly rivalry which delighted Henry.
She was so amiable, so amusing and so very beautiful. He was singularly blessed in his marriage, he told himself.
When they were in their apartment she sat at his feet with a book on her lap. She would read aloud to him; but after reading for a while she laid aside the book and said: ‘Oh, I wish we could have absolute peace. I think if I could have a child and peace between our countries I would know perfect happiness.’
‘The child will come,’ said Henry. ‘And peace...well, there is no active war at this time.’
‘We have a truce!’ she cried. ‘What is a truce? It means that war can break out at any moment.’
‘Yes,’ he agreed solemnly.
‘And it could be ended at once.’
Henry shook his head.
‘Yes,’ she insisted. ‘Maine. That is all that stands between us and an end to this war.’
‘If I thought...’
‘Yes?’ she asked eagerly. ‘If you thought that giving up Maine would end the war you would give it up?’
‘Yes,’ he cried. ‘Yes, yes.’
She rose and coming close to him put her arms round his neck.
‘Then it is done,’ she said.
He shook his head. ‘The Parliament...’
‘The Parliament. You are the King. Oh Henry, I cannot bear it when you let others rule you. You are the King. It is for you to say.’
‘Yes, it is for me to say,’ he repeated.
She brought pen and paper to him. ‘Henry, write this. Say that you will give up Maine...for peace.’
Henry hesitated but only for a moment. She was so earnest and so beautiful. She was clever too. Far more so than he was. And he did want to please her.
Moreover he desperately wanted peace.
She was triumphant. It was done. The King had agreed to surrender Maine.
###
So Maine was to be surrendered and Edmund Beaufort, Duke of Somerset and nephew of the Cardinal, was in France with Adam Moleyns, Bishop of Chichester, to arrange peace terms.
The King of France was not eager to make peace unless he achieved what he wanted and he knew that it was impossible to get the English to agree to that. What he wanted was to clear the English out of France and to make them give up their claim to the French crown forever. They would not be ready to concede that—but the surrender of Maine was a very good piece of good fortune to be getting on with. All that had been agreed to was an extension of the peace for two years.
The Parliament was very uneasy. They should not have surrendered Maine and yet on the other hand they were not in a position to continue the war. The French were becoming prosperous under the King who in his youth had seemed so hopeless. The English had a King who did not care for war and had no skill in conducting it. England was in no condition to continue the war but on the other hand they must get out of it with some advantages.
The surrender of Maine was a great mistake and for it they blamed the Queen and Suffolk.
Well, there was a truce and that might give them time to build up the army, to raise taxes—if the people did not revolt and refuse to pay them. It was a waiting time, but the uneasiness was growing.
Then disaster struck. Francis Tarragonois, one of the English captains, seeing the build-up of French arms and knowing that attack would come sooner or later, forestalled them and marched into Brittany, took several fortresses and captured the town of Fougères.
It was a foolish action for it gave the French the very chance they wanted. The English had broken the truce. Very well, that meant it was over. There was nothing to stop them now. They were ready. In a very short time they had captured Normandy.
The loss of Normandy demoralized the English. So it had been long ago in the reign of King John. Normandy had been brought to England with the Conqueror and had been part of the English heritage since the Conquest.
The people were aghast. What had happened to the glorious victories of Henry the Fifth? It was little more than thirty years ago when the bells were ringing and the country was rejoicing in Agincourt.
And now...disaster. The surrender of Maine had meant the beginning of surrender to France. And they had let it happen. Not the King...he was too weak to do it. He had been forced into it. By his ministers, by the grand Duke of Suffolk and the Queen. The Duke of Somerset was a fool. He had been defeated in France and he and the Bishop Moleyns deserved to be hanged.
There was uneasiness throughout the country.
Henry’s idyll was rudely shattered.
They were losing France. Very well, let them lose it. He was content with England. He wanted to see the people happy. He wanted to encourage the artists. He wanted his people to appreciate fine music and art, to have colleges in which to study. War was the last thing he wanted. Let them abandon France...the whole of France if necessary and let them give their minds to being happy in England.
Suffolk came to Windsor to see him. A new Suffolk, a worried man this. His self-assurance was crumbling.
‘My lord, my lady.’ His eyes were on the Queen. She was the one who understood these matters better than the King. ‘Bad news.’
‘No more losses,’ cried Henry. ‘People should give more thought to prayer.’
