Текст книги "The Star of Lancaster"

Автор книги: Jean Plaidy

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'Charles the Sixth will never willingly give up his crown.'

'Well, that is something we understand. Poor mad old man. He is beset on all sides. Burgundy would be with us.*

'It is not likely that a King of France will give up his crown without a struggle. Moreover there is the Dauphin.*

The King snapped his fingers. 'Louis is a braggart and a very pretty one, I believe. He will make sure his linen is well scented before he goes into battle. He would be wise to accept our latest terms: Charles to remain in nominal possession of the throne until his death. That is very fair, very reasonable. England to be no longer the vassal of France for the provinces of Normandy, Maine, Anjou and Aquitaine. The ransom for King John who was captured by the Black Prince and kept prisoner here in London for a while has never been paid. Is it asking much that this should now be honoured? The King of France shall give his youngest daughter Katherine to be my Queen and she shall bring with her a dowry of two million crowns.*

'They will never agree to those terms,* said Exeter.

'But they fear us,' insisted the King. 'Yes, they fear us. It is

the crown I want and by God's help I will attain it.. .*

The purpose of this meeting was to receive the French ambassadors and these were brought in that Henry might tell them his will before all assembled.

He spoke clearly and witheringly: *I little esteem your French money/ he said, 'and less so your power and strength. I know full well my rights to the crown which has been usurped. The usurper, your master, may have loving subjects who will rally to his cause. I thank God I am not unstored with the same. And I tell you this, before a year has passed I shall make the highest crown of your country stoop before me and the proudest mitre to have his humiliation. In the meantime tell this to the usurper your master, that within three months I shall enter France as into mine own true and lawful patrimony, acquiring the same not with bray of words but with deeds of men and dint of sword by the aid of God in whom I put my trust and confidence. You may depart safely to your own country where I trust sooner to visit you than you shall have cause to bid me welcome.*

The Frenchmen looked astounded by this speech; but they bowed and took their leave.

When they had gone all eyes were on the King.

'Bold words, my lord,' said Bedford.

'Bold deeds should be preceded by bold words, brother. You will see that I meant every one of them. We shall now make our preparations.'

'Charles will be shivering in his shoes,' said Exeter. *I wonder what the Dauphin will have to say.'

The Dauphin's reply came within a few weeks.

The King was in his ante-chamber with his brothers and counsellors when the ambassadors from France arrived. They brought with them a barrel which was carried in and placed at the King's feet.

'What is this?' asked the King.

'The Dauphin's gift to you, my lord.'

The King laughed. Did the foolish fop think he could placate the King of England with gifts!

'He has sent these treasures to you, my lord, with the assurance that they will please you mightily. He knows your nature and he applied this knowledge when selecting a treasure which would be considered most suited to your taste.'

'We should not be affected by it were it ever so much to our

liking/ said the King. 'But let us see what my lord Dauphin knows of my tastes/

He was smiling when the barrel was opened. There was a gasp of astonishment when the King put in his hand and brought out a tennis ball.

'God's truth,' he cried. 'The barrel is full of them.*

The ambassadors lowered their heads to hide their smiles.

'Our master believed these would please you, my lord,' said one. 'His message is that he is sure you will use them with more skill than you could bring to sword and lance.'

Henry was silent for a few moments. His face was a deeper shade of pink than usual.

Then he said in a loud clear voice: 'Go tell your master that when I have set my rackets against these balls I shall drive them so hard that they will batter open the gates of Paris.'

'So be it,' cried those standing by; and the ambassadors retired discomfited.

'My lord Dauphin has spoken,' said the King. 'Now we shall lose no more time. Let us prepare to carry the war into France.'

Henry threw himself fervently into making ready to leave. The people were with him. He was popular. He was young; he was handsome; he had shown in his youth that he was no saint; he was a man of the people.

'We'll go with Harry,' they said.

The rich men of the country rallied round. They brought him gifts which could be converted into money; the poor could only bring themselves which they did to join his army. They were all excited by the expedition into France. They had no doubt of its success and they talked of the spoils that would come their way. France was a rich country. It was not like making war on Wales or Scotland or Ireland. There would be rich profits for those who went foraging with Harry of England.

All the greatest nobles in the land pledged themselves to serve with their followers for a year. Henry announced that for their services they would be paid, for a Duke thirteen shillings and fourpence a day; for an Earl six shillings and eightpence; for a baron or baronet three shillings and four-pence, a knight two shillings, an esquire one shilling, and an

archer sixpence. Any prisoners taken were to belong to their captors and to them would go the ransom demanded when it was paid. There were clearly pickings to be had.

With the expedition the King was taking his physician, Nicholas Colnet, and his surgeon, Thomas Morstede, and they were to be paid twelve pence a day and be given a guard of three archers.

The army was growing in strength; there were six thousand men at arms and twenty-four thousand archers.

During these preparations Thomas Arundel, Archbishop of Canterbury, had a stroke. He was unable to speak. It was said of him that this was God's punishment for having tied up the word of God in the mouths of preachers.

'Poor old man,' said Henry. 'He will not be sorry to go.'

But he had no time to grieve for his Archbishop. His thoughts were with his army. Henry Chicheley was appointed in Arundel's place and Henry was pleased with his new Archbishop for he was a man who gave whole-hearted support to the prosecution of the war.

Henry, determined to make sure that no important detail should be missed, himself proceeded to Southampton to watch the loading of stores.

The expedition was ready to leave within a few days when a plot was revealed to him. It was the intention of the plotters to take over the country while he was away and set up in his place the Earl of March—whom many people believed to be the true heir to the throne.

One of the servants of Richard Earl of Cambridge was discovered with letters from his master to Lord Henry Scrope of Mersham.

When the King read these letters he was filled not only with rage but with horror because Henry Scrope had been one of his closest companions since his accession to the throne. He had trusted him with missions abroad; only recently he had travelled with Henry Chicheley before the latter had become Archbishop, on a very confidential mission to the Duke of Burgundy.

'Whom can one trust!' cried Henry. And to discover such duplicity just as he was about to set out for France was unnerving. Who will betray me next? he wondered. Is it safe to leave my kingdom when those I believed to be my truest friends are in truth my enemies?

This was the shadow which had pursued his father. Always he had feared that someone would try to set up the Earl of March in his place or discover that Richard still lived. He himself would refuse to be haunted by such fears. He would soon add the crown of France to that of England and no one was going to deny his rights.

He could see how Scrope had been drawn into this—Scrope and Cambridge! Scrope had married Cambridge's stepmother as his second wife; and Cambridge was married to the sister of the Earl of March. Cambridge, himself royal being the second son of Edmund Langley who was a son of Edward the Third, would reckon his son to be in line for the throne. These marriages ... these royal lines ... they gave people ideas I

Prompt action was needed to deal with the matter. Conspiracies were always dangerous but one could not have come at a worse time than this.

He sent for Scrope. Good honest Scrope; so he had thought —and all the time a traitor to him!

*Ah, Henry,' he said. 1 am glad you came so promptly.*

*My lord, I am always at your service.'

'Except,' replied the King, 'when you serve my enemies.'

He was watching his one-time friend closely, hoping to detect in his face a sign of innocence.

But Scrope had flushed scarlet and Henry saw the fear leap into his eyes.

'Charming letters your friend Cambridge writes to you,' said Henry.

1 understand you not, my lord.'

'Enough, traitor. I have read the correspondence between you two. So you would put March on the throne, eh? But first you must rid yourselves of me. Who was to be the assassin? You, mayhap. You have gained yourself easy access to me with your false protestations of friendship.'

Scrope was silent.

'Tell me the truth,' thundered the King, 'for by God's own truth I swear I will have it from you.'

'There is a conspiracy, my lord.'

'That is already clear to me. And you are involved in it.'

'For the purpose of discovering when the conspirators meant to strike.'

'Oh come, Scrope, you will have to do better than that. My

kinsman Cambridge, eh? He wants his wife's brother on the throne. And if he should die, well then Anne of Cambridge has a son who could well take the crown, is that it? Is Cambridge's plan to set up March and then have another little conspiracy; remove Alarch and set up Cambridge's boy in his place?'

'My lord, the plan was to make the Earl of March the King. Though there are some ^vho say that Richard still lives.'

'Not that old story again!'

Tew believe it.' Scrope seemed anxious to talk as though by so doing he could convince the King that he had joined the conspiracy only to betray it in due course.

Henry listened with scornful lips and a sadness in his heart. It hurt him to see Scrope flounder, betraying his fellow traitors in an attempt to save himself.

He called to his guards and cried: 'Take him away. Keep him your prisoner. If he escapes you will answer to me.'

Scrope was dragged away still protesting his innocence.

His brothers came to him for they had heard that Scrope was arrested. He told them what he had discovered. They were horrified.

*I shall act promptly,' said Henry. 'This is no time for delay. They shall have a trial today and if they are found guilty shall be despatched immediately.'

'They should be made an example of. The traitor's death should be accorded them.'

'I want them out of my way,' said the King. 'That will be enough. God is on our side for had this not been discovered now we could have lost our throne.'

The facts were soon brought to light. The plan was to assert the claims of York against those of Lancaster. Henry was to be assassinated and the the Earl of March set on the throne. A man had appeared in Scotland calling himself Thomas of Trumpyngton who declared he was in fact King Richard who had escaped from Pontefract. It seemed pretty clear that he was a madman who was not the first to be obsessed by this idea but the conspirators promised to test his claim. Anvthing which would help in the fight to rid the country of Henry would be considered. But the main idea was to put the Earl of March on the throne. They planned to conduct the Earl to the Welsh border, where they could be sure of support,

and proclaim him King. The Percys could be relied on to hold the north against Henry.

It was indeed a well laid plot; and, said Henry, there was only one way to act.

He was convinced that his cousin the Earl of March was innocent. He was merely to be used as the figurehead but there was no doubt whatever of the guilt of Cambridge, Scrope and Thomas Grey of Heton.

They were condemned and deprived of their heads without delay.

The conspiracy had been brought to a satisfactory conclusion.

Now for France.

On a hot August day Henry set out for France with six thousand men at arms and twenty-four thousand archers. They travelled in fifteen hundred vessels.

He immediately attacked Harfleur. The town was ill equipped to stand out against him; and the governor in desperation sent messengers to the King of France telling him that unless he sent relief within a month he would have no alternative but to surrender.

No help came and Harfleur, to Henry's jubilation, fell into English hands.

*This is a good beginning,' cried Henry, *an omen. I shall fortify this town and make it into another Calais. Then we shall have two ports of entrance to France.'

He set about consolidating his position. He wanted the inhabitants of Harfleur to leave the town to his men and he ordered them to take as much baggage as they could carry after they had sworn on God's name that they would not take part in the war, and surrender themselves to the governor of Calais.

'My lord, do you think they will obey that order?' asked his brother Bedford.

It matters little if they do not, brother. I wish to be rid of them and populate this town with English men and women.'

It was a resounding initial success, but alas it was soon seen to be less glorious than had at first been believed for an epidemic of dysentery soon appeared among the soldiers and within a matter of days two thousand of them were dead. That was

not all, for if he had not taken some action more would have died. He saw that there was only one course to be taken and that was to send back to England those who were growing too weak to be of use.

Thus it seemed that success was turning to disaster for the army was by this time only half the strength it had been when it set out.

'We must return to England,' said Bedford. 'We must raise more men.'

But Henry shook his head. 'Return to England with only the capture of Harfleur to our credit! Nay, good brother, that will not do. The people of England have given me their men and their treasure. I will not return without something more than Harfleur to offer them. They would say I was over-timid and no man shall ever have reason to call me that/

'Then where next?'

Henry was thoughtful for a while. Then he said: 'I intend to march through Normandy, Picardy and Artois on my way to Calais. This is my fair land of France and it is fitting that I should see more of it.'

'My lord,' cried Bedford aghast. 'We have lost so many men and many of those who remain have been weakened by illness. You will have to leave a garrison in Harfleur. How many will you take on this march?'

'There will be some six thousand.'

*Six thousand, my lord, against the French army!'

'It may be that we shall not meet the French army.'

'They will resent the capture of Harfleur. What if they come against us? And what food shall we be able to commandeer during this march of ... why it must be some hundred and fifty miles.'

'All you say may well be true, brother, but I shall not return to England without a victory to present to my people and that victory must be as joyful in their eyes as those of Crecy and Poitiers.'

Bedford shook his head. He thought his brother was courting disaster. But there was no gainsaying the orders of the King and the march began.

They went through Fecamp to Argues, Criel, Eu and St Valery until they reached the Somme. Now the French were on the march.

It was the twenty-fourth of October and the enemy were

encamped in the villages of Ruisseauville and Agincourt.

No lodging could be found for Henry and he slept in a hut. In the morning he released the prisoners he had brought with him, exacting a promise from them that if they were caught up in battle they should return and surrender themselves.

'If I am defeated/ he said, 'then you are released. If not, you will return to me.'

He laughed to himself. How many would obey him? He could not say, but he could not afford to have enemies in his camp. Some might have executed them. It was not Henry's way. He prided himself on his justice. He was hard but not deliberately cruel.

Now there could be no putting off the battle. The enemies were face to face and the next day must see the start of hostilities.

There was great confidence in the French camp because they so greatly outnumbered the English. The French knew what had happened at Harfleur. The English had w^on that victory but at what cost. Their army, so the French understood, W'as decimated by dysentery.

It rained heavily during that long night and as they listened to it rattling on their tents the French were confidently gambling on how many prisoners they would take in the battle and boasting that they would go for those who would bring in the highest ransoms. They were certain of victory. It w^as not possible, they reasoned, for such a decimated band of men, exhausted by a long march and sickness, to stand up against them. Harry of England was a braggart who boasted of his claim to the throne of France. It would be their pleasure on the following day to teach him a lesson.

Henry, strangely enough, ^vas filled with a quiet confidence. He forbade any to speak of the smallness of his army. The men must not be reminded of it, he told his generals. He must imbue them with this sense of certain victory which he himself felt.

In the quiet of the night he walked about the camp. He talked with his men, without proclaiming his identity. But they knew him; and with the rain glistening on his face and soaking his cloak they were aware of some divine power within him and they forgot their fears and knew—as well as he did—that he could not fail.

The King heard mass at dawn. Then he was dressed in his

cote d'armes on which were the arms of both France and England. On his basinet he wore his crown that all might know who he was when he led his men in battle. He mounted his small grey horse and summoned his men from their quarters and when they were drawn up he addressed them. He told them that their cause was just, that they would succeed with God's help and God would not deny that help to those whose cause was right. They were going to show the French that no army in the world could stand up against English bowmen. They were going in to win. This spot was called Agincourt and in years to come its name should be celebrated, because it was one which should stand beside that of Crecy and Poitiers.

Such was his conviction and so did he glow with this shining confidence which seemed imbued with a touch of divinity that his men believed him. They ceased to think of the opposing number of Frenchmen who must be fresher and doubtless better equipped than they were. They only knew that they would follow Harry of England to victory.

Henry himself led the main host of the army; the Duke of York was in the vanguard and the rear was commanded by Lord Camoys. Each of the archers carried a billhook, a hatchet and a hammer and a stake sharp at both ends in order to defend himself against a cavalry charge.

The French stood firm as the English advanced, and from the archers came a shower of arrows which wrought fearful havoc among the French forces. The French cavalry attempted to attack but they could not stand up against the streams of arrows and it was brought home to them that the reputation of the invincibility of English archers was well founded. The horses were unable to advance because as they approached the English held the pointed stakes before them and the French horses, maddened by the wounds they had received from the arrows, ran amok and it was quite impossible for their riders to control them.

The battle waged for three hours. A wild fury had seized the English. The manner in which the archers had repulsed the cavalry even after they had shot all their arrows seemed a miracle. They were certain that God was on their side and they knew that with His help they could not fail.

It was victory for the English archers. As at Crecy and Poitiers they were invincible.

The French losses were enormous, those of the English minimal. This resounding and miraculous success was due to the archers, but it owed a great deal to the military genius of the King.

He it was who had chosen that the battle should be fought on that spot where the French could not use all their forces but were obliged to attack in one space which considerably reduced the advantage of numbers.

So the field was won, and men were saying that never had there been a battle so glorious, never one won against such desperate odds.

The French were defeated, the English gloriously victorious and the name of Harry of England would live for ever as the greatest warrior of them all.

Coeur de Lion, two great Edwards, the Black Prince himself —Henry towered above them.

So it was back to Calais and across to England.

There his loyal subjects awaited their hero. All over the country there was rejoicing. Bonfires were lighted. Pageants were enacted; and when the King arrived in his capital city he was going to be given such a welcome as no king had ever enjoyed before.

Profligate Prince Hal had become great Harry of England.

DEATH AT LOLLARDS' GALLOWS

There was one, however, who could not rejoice wholeheartedly in the great victory, for she greatly feared what the consequences might be.

Ever since Henry had visited Joanna and implied that he expected her to influence her son to fight for the English, she had been very uneasy.

Until this time she had been content with her life in England. At first she had been very happy with Henry but when that fearful disease had grown worse and he had been so horribly disfigured her feelings towards him had begun to change. IVhen he had died it had been a kind of release and had enabled her to settle down to a new life.

She had taken up her quarters at Havering and there had started to enjoy a life of peaceful seclusion. She had amassed great wealth and her thrifty nature, which had fitted in well with that of her husband, had delighted in the growth of her possessions. She wanted nothing changed; she was content enough to live in the shadows. The last thing she wanted was to be drawn away from her quiet luxurious life to join in any controversy and especially one with her stepson, the King.

And now Agincourt! An unprecedented and unexpected victory for Henry.

She knew that her eldest son, the Duke of Brittany, had remained uncomfortably neutral. It was the only action he could

have taken, for since his wife was the daughter of the King of France his allegiance must lie with that King. It was different with Arthur. He had been created Earl of Richmond by Joanna's husband and owed his allegiance to England.

Yet he had fought with France.

That would have been a wise action ... if the French had won; and everyone had expected the French to win.

So at Havering Joanna waited in trepidation for the outcome. That Henry's attitude towards her would change, she felt certain. He would blame her for not using enough force in persuading her sons. But what could she do? It was years since she had seen them and even if she had, she would never have been able to influence them to that extent. To have supported the English would have seemed to them like suicide.

It was all very well to be wise after the event.

She was in a state of great nervousness and she sent for two men whom she kept in her household to advise her and predict the future. Petronel Brocart had come to England with her and she had found Roger Colles in Salisbury. She regarded them as her two wise men; they foretold the future and read the stars and before taking any action she always consulted them.

The household was considerably in awe of them; they lived in complete comfort for there was no one who would dare offend them for fear of bringing down their wrath and being illwished.

She sent for them and told them that she wanted to consult them; she was fearful of the future, she told them. They had not foreseen the outcome of the battle of Agincourt.

Petronel Brocart replied that he had foreseen it but had not trusted what he saw and put it down to being a dream and not true foresight. The odds were so overwhelmingly against the English that it could only have been a last minute miracle, decided on in one moment by the powers either of good or evil —it remained to be seen which.

Joanna accepted the explanation and told them that she felt herself to be ... if not in danger, in an uneasy position because of her family in France.

Brocart made sure that he was kept up to date with the latest events which often meant he was able to prophesy a certainty; he kept messengers, whom he paid handsomely, and their duty was to give him the latest information as to

what was happening at the Court of Brittany.

Therefore he had news for the Queen; and it was not pleasant news.

*It does not surprise me/ said Brocart, 'that you feel this lack of ease. There is ill news coming to you, my lady/

Joanna glanced pleadingly from Colles to Brocart.

Tray tell me the worst. My son .. .*

'The Duke is well/ replied Colles. *He did not take part in the fighting but wisely remained neutral.'

'Your daughter's husband, the Due d'Alen^on, has been killed/ said Brocart.

Joanna put her hand to her fast beating heart; she could tell from the expression of these two men that there was more to come.

'Your brother Charles of Navarre was wounded in the battle.'

'He has since died of his wounds,' added Colles.

'And my son ... Arthur?' asked Joanna faintly.

'He is Henry's prisoner.*

*Oh my God, what will become of him?*

'He will remain in England at the King's pleasure, my lady.'

'And shall I see my son?*

'Ere long, my lady.'

'It grieves us to give you such news, dear lady.'

'I know it,' replied Joanna, 'but I must also know the truth. Do not hesitate. Is there anything more I should know?'

'We have told you all, my lady.'

Joanna wanted nothing so much as to shut herself away with her grief.

She had pleaded with the King. He must allow her to see her son. She knew that he had broken the allegiance which as Earl of Richmond he owed to England. But she was his mother and she had not seen him for eleven years when as a boy he had come to England. Perhaps she had been wrong to remind the King of that occasion for it was when he had received the investiture of Earl of Richmond.

The King replied that her son was a traitor. He had been found with England's enemy and had been taken in battle. He could not expect to be received in honour in England; he

was a prisoner, a danger to England, and Henry could see no reason why he should be treated otherwise even though his mother had been a Queen of England.

Joanna longed to see him. She greatly feared that he might be sentenced to death. Henry was severe but he was not wantonly cruel. He would understand Arthur's difficulties living as he was in Brittany at his brother's court with his brother's wife the daughter of the King of France. True, he had sworn allegiance to England, but he was young and Henry would not wish to be too harsh. Moreover Joanna was a clever woman; he had always liked her and did not want to inflict undue suffering upon her. It was unthinkable that he should release Arthur of course, but he saw no reason why there might not be a meeting between mother and son.

Arthur was to come, under guard, to Havering after which he would be taken back to the Tower of London. When she heard that he would soon be with her Joanna was overcome by emotion and she sent for her confessor, a Franciscan friar named John Randolf, and asked him to pray with her that she might prepare herself for the meeting.

*I must try not to weep,' she said. *Oh, it is a sad state of affairs when children are lost to their mothers at an early age/

'Compose yourself, my lady,* advised John Randolf. Trayer will be a solace to you. I would suggest Madam that it is unwise to rely so much on those charlatans, Brocart and Colles. They can bring no good to you.'

'They foresaw that my son would be a prisoner. They warned me in advance.'

'It is dabbling in evil powers, my lady, and will do you no good with God and his saints.'

Joanna was silent. She knew that John Randolf disliked the sorcerers, as they did him. They were suspicious of each other and jealous of the influence every one of them held with her.

But this was no time to consider rivalries.

Arthur was coming and she must be prepared for him, so she knelt with Randolf and together they asked for God's blessing and that the King's heart might be softened towards Arthur.

He was on his way. Soon he would be with her. She was trembling with excitement.

She said to one of her ladies, 'Do sit in my chair so that when he comes in he will think you are his mother. 1 will watch him for a while before I reveal myself.'

*He will know you for the Queen, my lady, by your very bearing.'

'Nay,' said Joanna, 'we shall do it this way.*

And so she was seated on a footstool at the feet of her lady attendant when her son entered. He was handsome, young, all that she could have wished him to be ... except that he was a prisoner. The guards were standing at the door to remind her of that sad fact.

He approached her lady-in-waiting and knelt at her feet. Joanna watched sadly.

'My mother,' said Arthur, 'this is a sad meeting. But I rejoice to see you.'

They embraced.

'I will present you to my ladies,' said the substitute Queen, but at that moment Joanna could sustain her role no longer.

'My son, my son,' she cried, 'do you not know me?'

Arthur looked in astonishment from the lady-in-waiting to the Queen.

'Yes,' said Joanna, 'I am your mother.'

1 see it now,' cried Arthur.

*I had to wait awhile,' said Joanna. 'My heart was too full.*

They embraced warmly, then looked at each other search-ingly. 'You were but a boy when you went away,' said Joanna.

*Oh, Mother, so much has happened since then.'