Текст книги "The Star of Lancaster"

Автор книги: Jean Plaidy

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That was why when news came of the plot to rescue the young Earl of March and his younger brother from Windsor, where they were kept under the eyes of the King's guards, and the Duke of York was proved to be involved in it, Henry was able to act justifiably and none could attribute his action to a jealousy regarding the Queen.

It was a plot worthy of York, thought Henry grimly. He was involved with his sister Lady de Despenser who was not a woman of the highest character and they had bribed a blacksmith to make a set of keys to enable them to open the doors of the apartment where the young captives were kept.

There was a period of great consternation when Henry

learned that the two boys had been taken from Windsor. Henry visualized armies in the name of the Earl of March coming against him. Henry imagined that many would flock to their banner simply because they disliked him. His infrequent public appearances did not endear him to the people; how could he tell them of the terrible anxieties he suffered and that sometimes his face was so inflamed that he could not venture out? They did not like his foreign Queen either. Sometimes he thought how popular he and Mary used to be when he was plain Bolingbroke, or Derby or Hereford. It was only when he had become Henry the King that the people had begun to dislike him.

York was no brilliant strategist and it was inevitable that any plot in which he was involved should fail. And so did this one.

After cleverly getting the boys out of Windsor he carelessly allowed their destination to be discovered, and it was not long before the two boys were sent back to Windsor and York was the King's prisoner. Then the story came out. The blacksmith lost his life; it would have been unwise to allow York to suffer the same fate and make a martyr of him; he was sent to Pevensey Castle for safe keeping.

Henry had had his revenge. He had w^anted York removed for he did not like the thought of a handsome young man writing verses to Joanna. Now was his chance. He could dismiss York from Court and no one could say he had not good reason for doing so, and Joanna would no longer be able to compare smooth-skinned York with her husband who grew more ill-favoured every day.

Joanna made no attempt to plead for him, which gratified Henry, and he was convinced that York meant nothing to her. York was one of those men who would always involve himself in dangerous situations in which he had little chance of achieving his goal.

There remained the matter of the Earl of March. The older he grew the more of a problem he would be.

Henry sent for Harry. When his son arrived Henry's feelings fluctuated between pride and irritation. There was no question of his not being a fine specimen of manhood; all sign of that childhood weakness which had caused such anxiety to his mother had disappeared. He was less Planta-genet than de Bohun, but looks were the only characteristics

he had inherited from his mother. Her gentle meekness, her main characteristic, was completely lacking in young Harry. He was dark, with thick smooth hair; his nose was long and straight, his face oval; his teeth were outstandingly white and well shaped and he had a cleft in his chin. He had a glowing complexion which indicated extreme good health; there was a reddish tinge in his brown eyes which could be sleepily good-humoured or fierce when he was angry. Yes, he was a son to be proud of, with his lean body, above normal height, his limbs well formed and his bearing already that of a King. There was a vitality in him which seemed to be fighting to get out. It was a pity he wasted his energies in low taverns surrounded by men of similar tastes.

*I do not need to ask if you are in good health,' said Henry.

Harry thought: I cannot say the same for you, old man.

*I am well as I trust you are, my lord.'

Henry waved his hands. 'You see me in sorry state. More and more responsibility will be put onto your shoulders, Harry.'

Harry stood up very straight, smiling, confident of his ability to carry it.

1 would there were not these reports of you ... carousing in low taverns.'

*It is my way of meeting the people.'

Tou can do that satisfactorily at my Court.'

*Which I do,' said Harry. 'But I would meet all sorts. What do most courtiers know of the villeins, water men, merchants and such like?'

'What do they want to know of them?'

'What they are thinking. That they are loyal subjects. We could depend on such as them to keep us on our thrones.'

'You have not yet a throne, Harry.'

'No, sir. But I am the heir to one.'

*Take care.'

'But it is what I do constantly, my lord.'

'You are acquiring a reputation for low living.'

'And for high living, my lord. I am living my life to the full.'

'You give me cause for anxiety, my son.'

'My lord, you give me cause for anxiety. You are not in good health.'

The King was silent.

'Father,' said Harry, 'you may rely on me to stand beside

you, to be your deputy, to take on those duties which you feel yourself unable to carry out/

My God, thought Henry, his fingers itch to take the crown!

He said coldly: 1 have no duties in low taverns/

'Why,' laughed Harry, *it is my way of passing the time. Give me my tasks and I will carry them out to your satisfaction/

*I am going to put the Earl of March and his brother into your keeping/

Harry's eyes shone with pleasure.

'Rest assured I shall keep them safe from interfering relations and their accommodating blacksmiths.'

'See to it. And Harry ... you have noticed this affliction of mine?'

Harry nodded.

'And others?'

'They do not speak to me of it.*

'There will come a time when I fear it will be the undoing of me. But it is a slow process.'

Harry was silent.

'There should be amity between us two, my son. I would have you remember your position.'

'I could never forget it, my lord.'

'Our claim to the crown could be contested/

'Could and is,' said Harry.

'This matter of young March ...'

'Ah, we have our enemies.'

'Surrounding us, my son. That is why we must stand together.'

'And take great care.'

'York is safe at Pevensey.'

'He should not be kept long under restraint. He will become a martyr. Men will speak of him and perhaps say he had right on his side.'

'What would you do then. Free him?'

'After a while, yes. And restore his estates to him/

'As a reward for playing traitor?'

'He is of our family. He had worked for us. He saved us remember when he was with the plotters at Windsor. But for him it might well be that you and I should not be here now discussing how to safeguard the crown. We shall get good service from him yet. He is a man governed by his emotions.

Let him fret a while in prison. Then I will speak for him and guarantee his good behaviour. He will be a good servant to me then, I'll promise you. He is one who will remember a service.'

'Methinks you would already govern this realm.'

*Think on it,' said Harry with a smile. Then he bowed low and said: *At your service, my lord and father. Together we shall hold the crown against all who might come against us.'

After he had left Henry was thoughtful, and his apprehension and pride were stronger than ever.

Harry was right, they must not be vindictive to the Duke of York. The people might even say that he was jealous because of the Duke's admiration of the Queen.

Four months after the Duke of York had been sent to Pevensey, he was released and his goods and lands restored to him.

Harry appeared to have judged correctly. The Duke was grateful. Henry believed that if there was another attempt to snatch the crown, York would be beside him and his son.

Two men swaggered over the cobbles of East Cheap and entered the Boar's Head. They were an incongruous pair– one rotund, the other slender; and there was such a difference in their ages that they might have been father and son.

They sprawled together at a bench and called for wine. The girl who brought it, her hair hanging lankly over the tawdry ribbons of her none too clean gown, laid her hand on the young man's shoulder and gave him an inviting smile.

He squeezed her thigh. 'Some other time,' he said with a wink at his companion. 'Tonight mayhap.*

'Nay,' said the older man with a rumbling laugh, 'have naught to do with these callow youths, lass. Take a man like me ... a man who has travelled far and wide ... in the French wars ... in the German wars ... and in any wars you can name.'

'Listen not to him,' said the younger one. *He is old and incapable.'

'You two!' said the woman with a flounce of her skirts. 'If I know aught it'll be talk and talk. That's what you do best, mark my words.

With this she left with a twirl of her musty skirts.

The older man sat back on the bench and surveyed the younger.

'You effect a good disguise, my lord,' he said. Td find good sport in standing on this bench and shouting to them all: Behold your Prince.'

1 don't doubt you would,' replied Harry. 'Would they believe you?'

*A right good scandal it would make.'

'Bless you, John, there are scandals enough about me.'

'What's for tonight?'

*A little bit of robbery methinks.'

'What have you in mind then?'

'There are some about me who suspect my fondness for this place. I heard them whispering about the Boar's Head in East Cheap. We'll surprise him, they said. That'll be good sport. I want to surprise them.'

'You bring good custom to the Boar's Head, my lord. The landlord should be pleased with you.'

'His harlot of a daughter does not seem to be. God's ear, John, I think she prefers you.'

'Ah, there is a lot to be said for a man of experience.'

'There's more to be said for youth.'

'Well you, my lord, are in good way of combining the two. But take care with the poxy wenches.'

'Away dull care,' cried Harry. 'Care is for courts. Bawdry for the Boar's Head, trickery for taverns ... What say you, John, to this? Here we meet the people. We hear what they think of the King and his son. The King who filched Richard's crown. The Prince who is itching to take it. The King who is mean and grasping. The Prince who wastes their money on debauchery. By God, I would it were true, John; I would I had it to waste on debauchery.'

'You manage debauchery at a low price,' replied Oldcastle.

' 'Tis to be had at all prices and cheaper here in the Boar's Head than at Court.'

'Tell me, what is this plan?'

'Tonight we lurk in the streets. We play the footpad on these fine gentlemen from Court. We take their money. 'Twill be a new game. A good one too.'

'Are you short of money again?'

'Not of the kind they will have on their persons.'

'They could harm you.'

*God bless you, John, am I going to curb my inclinations because I am afraid of being hurt? Would you say, "Do not go into battle my lord, you may be hurt?" Look at this scar here on my forehead. Battle honours, John. An arrow at Shrewsbury where we slew brave Hotspur. Enough of your caution. Out into the streets. We'll lurk there and we will catch them on their way to the tavern.'

*It seems a good sport,' said Oldcastle.

Harry drew something from under his cloak. 'Masks, John. They must not know it is a game.'

* 'Tis easier for you to disguise yourself than it is for me to do so. My bulk betrays me.'

'Why John, there are thousands of bulky men and where in England is a figure as neat and slender as mine. They look at me, no matter how I'm clad and say: "There goes noble Harry."'

'Nay. I shall be the better known.*

'Would you start a quarrel now then, fat man?'

*I would and I will it, boy.'

Harry laughed. 'No time for private wars, old fellow. Come ...'

'Are you going then, fair sirs?* It was the landlord's daughter.

Harry took her by the shoulder and gave her a hearty kiss on the mouth.

Til be back, sweetheart,' he said.

They came out into the streets. The flickering tallow candle in the tavern had given little light but it was some seconds before their eyes were adjusted to the gloom.

They picked their way carefully over the uneven ground avoiding the kennel in the middle of the road which would be overflowing with refuse, yet keeping from the walls in case someone threw out something which was even more obnoxious.

Harry loved the adventure of the streets by night. At any moment some cutthroat might spring out on them, or they might be accosted by some prostitute whom they would know must be hard pressed since she had wandered out in the darkness. To Harry it was excitement. He liked the streets by day with their lively activity; he liked to mingle with apprentices and pretend to be one of them; he liked to bargain with the stallholders and talk of the iniquities of the tax laws; he liked

to buy a ballad of a ballad singer and take it into the tavern and try it out; he would exchange banter with a milkmaid and parley with a madam who was trying to sell him one of her girls from the country. Sometimes he joined in fights when he could always give a good account of himself. 'What do you lack?' he would shout at the apprentices. He would stand and watch the craftsmen at work in their open shops. He would startle a beggar by the size of his contribution and then slink away quickly while the beggar called a blessing on him. He loved it all—the filth, the squalor and the grandeur of the London streets. It was a delight to mingle with these people, to know how they thought, how they acted; he liked their pride and that certain dignity which was as ingrained in them as it was in the highest nobility.

It was men such as these merchants and their apprentices who would stand beside him against his enemies, he believed. He did not want them there because they feared not to join him; he wanted to understand them, to talk with them, to have them work for him and give him loyalty not because it was treason not to, but because they wanted to.

He wanted to know the people he would one day rule. That was one reason why he mingled with them. The other was that he enjoyed the sport of it. He liked to spend a night with a woman who thought he was a young apprentice and who had no idea that briefly she enjoyed the privilege of sharing her bed with the Prince of Wales.

It was adventure that appealed to his youth and high spirits; and because there was danger in it, he liked it the better.

'Hist,' said John Oldcastle. *I hear revellers.'

' 'Tis they,' whispered Harry. 1 know their voices. Let's take them from behind.'

They crouched by the wall. Three young men came by, courtiers in their velvet. One held a pomander, sniffing it purposefully.

Harry laughed inwardly. He heard one say: 'Methinks the Prince has little taste.'

*He'll have a surprise when he sees us,' said another.

'Now! * whispered Harry.

They had caught two of the young men from behind. The one with the pomander dropped it and cried out: 'Help. We are set upon. Thieves.'

Harry laughed. It showed how little he knew of the London streets. Such a cry was enough to set everyone bolting their doors.

There was a scuffle. They were after all three to two. Harry was agile but not agile enough. He caught a strong blow in the ribs which left him breathless, but he was quick to respond and sent his opponent down to the ground.

He then tackled the gentleman with the pomander, who was easy prey.

'Their purses/ he whispered to Oldcastle. And in a few seconds they were running through the dark streets with three purses in their possession.

Harry leaned against a wall and burst out laughing.

'Tomorrow/ he said, 'they will tell a fine tale.'

They did not go back to the tavern that night.

The next day Harry enquired how his friends had received their bruises and expressed deep concern when they told him they had been set upon in East Cheap by a pack of ruffians.

'The streets are unsafe by night/ said Harry with a show of concern.

Oldcastle added: ' 'Tis unsafe to wander in them unarmed. Did you have nothing to defend yourself?'

'My good sir, try to defend yourself when set on by a gang.'

'Were there many of them?' asked Harry solemnly.

'I'd say we were outnumbered three to one.'

'No chance against so many/ muttered Oldcastle.

'A plague on them, they had our purses.'

'And you cannot afford the loss, I'll swear,' said Harry. 'Who of us can? I'll be generous. You're good fellows and brave. I'll swear you gave a good account of yourself. You will allow me to reimburse you.'

The three adventurers declared themselves reluctant to rob the Prince.

'Come, come. You have been robbed.'

Harry was almost hysterical with suppressed mirth as he handed back their own money.

When they were alone Sir John said: 'I believe you gave more to one of them than the other two.'

'You know why. He was the one who hit me in the ribs. I thought he should be rewarded for showing more fight than the others.'

They had enjoyed the adventure so much that they decided to repeat it. Secrecy was a necessity.

'It's dangerous,' said Sir John. 'Who knows, someone of them may get the better of us.'

'That's why it is exciting, you old bufPoon.'

Sometimes there was some rough fighting, but the more the attacked fought back the better Harry liked it.

It was his favourite game until someone detected that he was the instigator. From then on the game had lost its savour.

But there were always ways of amusing themselves in the taverns and the streets of London.

Harry had a servant of whom he was somewhat fond. He knew the fellow for a rogue but he was a merry one; and his unscrupulous behaviour amused the Prince. One day it occurred to him that he had not seen Bardolph for a few days and he asked where he was.

'My lord,' was the answer, 'he has been arrested.'

'Arrested for what cause?'

'Some felony, my lord. It was of a certainty that he would be caught one day.'

'Why was I not told? Is he not my servant?'

"Twas an offence which brought him before the Chief Justice, my lord.'

'Before Gascoignel Why he stands a chance of hanging then. I won't lose Bardolph to a hangman, that I swear.'

'My lord, he comes up for trial this day.'

'Then I shall leave at once for the courts.'

He was as good as his word and impetuously he rode out. At the King's Bench sat Sir William Gascoigne—a man in his late fifties, dignified, deeply aware of the importance of his office and known throughout the country for his incorruptible determination to administer justice to high and low alike.

There was a commotion in court as Harry appeared and the judge called for order.

Harry went forward. He had seen his servant Bardolph.

'There stands my servant,' he said. 'I wish him to be released at once. If he has done aught which deserves punishment it is for me to administer it.'

The judge surveyed the heated face of the young Prince calmly.

'You are wrong, my lord. This man's crime is one against society and it comes within my jurisdiction.'

Tou forget, my lord judge, to whom you speak.'

*I speak in the name of the King,' replied Sir William Gas-coigne, 'and I order you, his subject, to leave the court.'

Harry was furious. He drew his sword and advanced on the judge, who sat still calmly watching him. There was a hushed silence. Many thought they were about to witness the murder of the Chief Justice by the Prince of Wales.

Then Sir William spoke. 'Sir,' he said, 'remember I keep here the place of your sovereign lord and father to whom you owe double obedience. I charge you in his name, desist from your wilfulness and unlawful conduct. From henceforth, I beg of you, give a good example to those who in the future shall be your subjects. For your contempt and disobedience of the King's Bench you will go to prison where I shall commit you, and remain there until the pleasure of your father the King shall be known/

Harry was startled into silence. All he had to do was thrust his sword through the heart of this judge who had gone so far as to commit him, the Prince of Wales, to prison, yet he hesitated.

His anger faded suddenly as he began to see this incident clearly through the eyes of a bystander. If a King was going to maintain justice his courts must not be held in contempt. No one, whatever his rank, should burst in and demand the release of a prisoner. That way lay anarchy and as one who was going to wear the crown, his first duty was to maintain the laws of the land.

He laid down his sword and bowing to the judge he said: 'You are right. You must do with me as you will. I ask your pardon and that of the court.'

Sir William was clearly impressed by the wisdom of the Prince. His voice was gentle as he said: 'You will wait here in this court until I know the will of the King. Messengers shall go to him with all speed. In the meantime we will continue with the business of the court.'

The King was in his bedchamber when the messenger arrived. He was in a melancholy mood; he was looking truth straight in the face and he believed he was not going to live very long. Nor did he want to with this terrible affliction which had come to him. That was not all. There was another

ailment—or perhaps the two were connected. At times he would go into a swoon or it might be a trance and be unaware of where he was or what was going on about him. One night his attendants had thought he was dead.

In his heart he wondered whether it was a retribution, a punishment for taking the crown. He was haunted by memories of Richard and he often dreamed of his cousin starving and freezing to death in his cell at Pontefract.

A crown, he thought, what men will do for it. And when they get it, what joy does it bring them?

His father had longed for it and died a frustrated man; his grandfather had rightfully inherited it and had worn it nobly —at least until his last days. And he ... Joyfully had he grasped it but it had weighed him down with trouble ever since it had been his.

Soon it would be Harry's turn—Harry with his wild life and his fondness for low companions, profligates like himself. What would become of the country?

And now a messenger to see him. He roused himself. Not ill news he trusted.

*My lord,' said the messenger, 1 come from the King's Bench.'

He then related what had happened.

Henry listening, smiled slowly to himself. Yes, he thought, it is good news.

Then he lifted his eyes and said: 'Oh merciful God, I thank you for a judge who feared not to administer justice and a son who can nobly submit to it.'

He felt better than he had for a long time. It might well be that Harry would reform his ways. He could so easily have slain the judge, have caused havoc in the court. But he had submitted to justice.

It was a sign from heaven. His sins were forgiven. He might, after all his fears, be leaving England a worthy King.

He immediately sent his compliments and thanks to Sir William Gascoigne. He applauded his action. His son should be released. He was pleased that he had realized in time that justice must stand supreme in England.

Bardolph received a short term of imprisonment which fitted his crime and the Prince left the court on the best of terms with the judge; and the matter was said to be over.

But men talked of it and they marvelled at the Prince's

behaviour. They were beginning to realize that in spite of his frivolous and reckless way of life there was within him a streak of seriousness.

The incident in the courts had without doubt had its sobering influence on Harry; and it seemed that his mood communicated itself to his crony John Oldcastle.

One day as they sat together in one of their favourite taverns, Oldcastle said to Harry: 1 have been disturbed for some time and meaning to talk to you.'

Tou, disturbed? What ails you, John? Not some pox, I hope.'

'You never thought of me as a religious man, my Prince.' 'You have never sho^vn me much evidence of your piety.' 'I think a lot, you know; and since my marriage ...' *Ah, the lady Cobham is having her effect on you, I see.' Tike you, my Prince, I was always deeply affected by the ladies.'

'They render you frivolous, amorous, reckless yes ... but this lady makes you think. What strange alchemy has she to bring about this wondrous feat?' 'She is my wife, my lord.'

1 know it well and through her you have discarded the comparatively humble Sir John Oldcastle and become Lord Cobham.'

'Should you blame me? One day you will discard the comparatively humble title of Prince of Wales and become King of England. But enough of banter. What think you of the Lollards, Hal?'

'Lollards? In truth I have thought little of them. My grandfather supported their leader Wycliffe for a while and I think little came of it.'

'Mayhap not through him, but they are a rising power. There is much that is good in them.'

'I like their name. Lollards, what means it, John?' 'Some say it comes from the German word lollen, to sing.' 'They have a habit of singing hymns, I believe.' 'A good habit to sing of what one believes. But I have also heard, now I come to remember, that they have been named from a good English word. Loller—an idler.'

'Well, what is in a name? It is what they stand for which

is important. They are a dangerous group, John. I remember Archbishop Arundel's saying that they were behind the Peasants' Revolt.'

'Some say the peasant had good reason to revolt.'

'You always loved a discourse. God's truth, I believe you take a view with which you know I will not agree just to bait me.'

'Mayhap,' agreed John. 'It makes a good pastime.'

Harry was watching one of the serving women.

'I can think of a better at this moment,' he said.

John sighed and the subject was dropped, but he brought it up again at their next meeting.

'The Lollards believe that no human law not founded on the scriptures ought to be obeyed.'

'There are crimes not mentioned in the scriptures/

'Is it right,' persisted John, 'that popes, cardinals, prelates and the like should live in luxury while the people who struggle day and night to feed themselves and their families should pay them rich dues?'

'John, you talk like a preacher.*

*I feel deeply on this matter.'

'You do indeed, I see. John, you alarm me. You know my father does not think kindly of the Lollards.'

'I think in his heart he may ... as his father did. But when he came to the throne he promised Archbishop Arundel to persecute them and this he did ... for the sake of Arundel's support.'

'What's come over you, John? You should not talk thus of the King.'

'To you, I speak without thought.'

'It is a dangerous habit, old fellow. Do you remember a man named William Sawtre?'

'Would I forget the first martyr to this cause? He was a poor curate and they made an example of him. He said he would not worship the cross but only Christ that suffered on it. He would rather worship a man who was truly contrite than the piece of wood which was all the cross was. The bread used in the sacrament remained bread whatever a priest mumbled over it. He was burned to death as a heretic. The first to be so treated. His death was a dark blot on our history.'

The Prince was looking in astonishment at his friend.

'What has come over you? You've changed, John.'

'Nay, I am the same. As you are, my Prince. We frivol away

the hours but when we are quiet we think of other things.

As it is with you, it is with me. I look ahead, Hal. We shall

not spend our lives roystering in taverns. We have other work

to do.'

1 know what mine is. I thought yours was to serve me.'

*So it is, lord King-to-be. But not in taverns.'

*You've put me in a sober mood, John. I fear the wenches

will be disappointed.'

'Cast off your gloom. I humbly ask pardon for creating it.* *Nay, John, nay. You have put me in the mood for serious

thought. Let us leave this place. I have no stomach for it now.

One thing I would say to you. Have a care. Do not become

embroiled in sects and reforming companies. They could

bring you to disaster.'

*I am not of a nature to fear what may come to me ... even

as you are. Would this close friendship—^with which you

honour me—have existed if we had not been two of a kind?

I shall do what I think right ... as you will always. It is the

nature of us.'

'Then take care, John. I am not sure that I like the serious

thinker half as much as my lewd old roystering rogue.'

The King lay in his bed. His face was distorted by the hideous pustules which stood out all over it; his body was shrunken and there was a stiffness in his hands and feet so that he feared he was losing the use of them.

He dared not show himself. He relied on his closest friends and his sons. Thomas was his favourite and he wished that he had been the eldest, although there were times when he recognized a certain strength in Harry which the others did not possess, and then he would feel that the realm would be safe in his hands. Thomas was milder than Harry although he too had been involved in riotous conflict in East Cheap, which created something of a scandal. John, who was by far the most sober of the family had been involved but that was only because he was accompanying his brother. Even young Humphrey was developing a taste for the night life of London. They were a wild brood, his sons. Odd to think that gentle little Mary had produced them.

At least he had something to be thankful for. He had pro-

duced sons—^wild though they might be; and both his marriages had been happy ones. He could not have chosen better than Joanna, except for the fact that her family—by the nature of their geographical position—^were inclined towards France. But there were internal difficulties in that country now—with Burgundy and the mad King and the wanton Queen. Fortunately, thought Henry, for they were causing little concern to England now; and he had no great wish to go to war, unlike Harry who was straining at the leash. Harry was ambitious. He wanted not only the crown of England but the crown of France.

Peace, thought Henry, that is what I long for now. Would to God I were well enough to go on a pilgrimage. God knows I have sins enough to wash away. There had been a prophecy made years ago that he would die in Jerusalem. There seemed little likelihood of that now, unless his health improved and he abdicated in favour of Harry. But if he were granted the miracle of good health, he would not dream of leaving the country.