Текст книги "The Follies of the King"

Автор книги: Jean Plaidy

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It seemed as though there was a sudden silence in the forest. Then Philippa said: ‘You will be a King and a King of England. They will have to find you a very grand princess to be your Queen.’

His mouth was firm and his shining eyes rested on her as he said: ‘I shall choose my own.’

Philippa was a little afraid. Instinct warned her that she should not be alone here with the Prince. Her mother would say it was wrong for her to allow herself to be led away. She had always obeyed her mother.

Instinctively she turned away, urging her horse forward. Edward walked his horse beside her and soon they were out of the clearing.

Before they returned to the castle they had joined the rest of the party.

–――――――

The Queen knew that she could not stay too long even when offered such

hospitality. The Count and Countess treated her like an honoured guest and Sir John hovered adoringly, but, as she said to Mortimer, they must move on.

However, she had a notion that coming to Hainault was going to prove one of the best courses they could have taken. She was going to speak to the Count of her predicament but first she would confer with Sir John. Sir John was only too delighted to enjoy a tête-á-tête with her, and posing as the pathetic lady in distress– which was the role in which he liked her best, she fancied she gave him a long account of her sufferings during her life with Edward and how it had come to the point when she could endure it no longer. He turned pale with

horror when she mentioned the fear she had of the wicked Despensers and how she believed that if she set foot in England that would be an end of her.

‘You must not go back without adequate protection,’ he declared.

‘You are right of course, my dear good friend, but how can I find that

protection?’

‘I will go with you.’

‘You are so good to me, but one man alone, however valiant, could not save me.’

‘I shall not go alone. I shall take an army with me.’

Isabella’s heart leaped in triumph. ‘You would do that?’

‘It would be my joy and my privilege.’

‘An army―’ she began.

‘Yes, an army to join your own. We would march on Westminster and force

the King to offer up those despicable men. I shall not rest until we have their heads for I see that you will be unsafe while they live.’

‘I cannot believe anyone could be so good to me as you are.’

‘You will see,’ he promised. ‘You will see.’

‘Do you realize, my dear Sir John, that this means going to a foreign country and fighting someone’s else’s cause?’

‘It is fighting your cause, my dear lady, and I ask nothing better than that.’

‘You would have to have your brother’s consent.’

‘Fear not, I shall speak to him.’

Her heart sank. This was a romantic young man. His brother, the more

mature Count who controlled Sir John and his armies, might not consent.

‘Do you think he will agree?’

‘I shall beg and implore him and continue to do so until he becomes so

weary of my importunings that he will be glad to be rid of me.’

‘Oh how I thank God for throwing me into your path.’

He kissed her hand. He would go at once to his brother, he said, and tell him that he proposed to go to England with her in order to set her son on the throne and depose that Edward who had lost the confidence of his people― and most heinous sin of all had ill-treated the most wonderful woman in the world.

–――――――

While he was sympathetic, the Count was far from enthusiastic at the

project.

‘My dear brother,’ he said, ‘you are proposing to go into a foreign country and embark on a war which is really no concern of yours.’

‘The fact that Edward of England has ill-treated a lady is surely of concern to any knight.’

‘You are young and romantic,’ replied the Count. ‘That is not good politics.’

‘What would you suggest I do?’

‘Escort the lady to the coast. Wish her well. Offer her friendship but not an army.’

‘I could not do that.’

‘You cannot involve Hainault in English affairs.’

‘It is not a matter of politics. It is one of chivalry.’

‘Oh, brother, I fancy the Queen of England is a very astute lady. She will know how to look after herself. No, I cannot give you permission to take an army to England.’

‘ I should raise that army. It would be my responsibility.’

‘You are my brother, remember. No, I could not give my consent.’

Sir John’s lips were stubborn. For the first time there was a coolness

between him and his brother. The Count thought: If I do not give my consent, he will act without it. That much is certain.

Isabella, knowing that the interview had taken place, was eager to know the result. She waylaid Sir John and was immediately struck by his dismal looks.

‘You have spoken to your brother?’ she asked anxiously.

Sir John nodded gloomily. ‘He is against it. Oh, believe me, he has the

utmost sympathy for your predicament. He would do a great deal to help you―’

‘But his generosity would stop at sending an army.’

‘That is what he says. But I do not despair. I shall persuade him―’

‘And if he will not agree―’

He kissed her hand. ‘I should never desert you,’ he answered.

Isabella sought an opportunity of talking to the Count alone, but she did not mention the fact that his brother had spoken to him.

She said: ‘It has been a great pleasure to rest awhile under your roof, Count, and do you know what has pleased me as much as anything? It is to see the

friendship which has sprung up between our children. Edward is quite enchanted by your delightful daughters and I fancy they are not displeased with him.’

The Count was alert. He had a great respect for Isabella’s strategies. ‘He is a charming boy. Handsome, tall, strong and of noble character. That much is

clear.’

‘It is gratifying,’ she answered, ‘to perceive these qualities in the heir to a great crown.’

‘He is indeed kingly in his bearing.’

‘I am eager that he should make a good marriage,’ went on the Queen, ‘and

by that I mean a happy one. I shall never forget my own arrival in a strange country and what was revealed to me when I came.’ She shuddered. ‘I want

Edward to have a little choice when it comes to his marrying. I would like him to have met his bride first and found that he was fond of her before the

ceremony.’

The Count’s heart had begun to beat fast. Was she suggesting one of his

daughters might be Queen of England? It was a dazzling prospect. He and

Jeanne wanted good marriages for their girls but happy ones at the same time and it was clear that all four girls were already a little enamoured of the handsome Edward.

He came straight to the point: ‘My lady, do you mean that you would

consider one of my daughters as a bride for your son?’

‘That was what was in my mind,’ answered Isabella. ‘I believe you would

consider it a worthy match.’

‘I will not pretend, my lady, that I should not have thought of looking so high. I have heard however that the King of England is in progress of arranging a match for the Prince with Aragon.’

‘What the King arranges will be of no moment when justice is done. It is I who will decide whom my son shall marry. When I take an army to England my aim will be to remove the villain Despensers from the King and if he protests, then it will be my duty to my son and to England to transfer the crown from the worthless father to the worthy son. Oh rest assured, my lord Count, it will not be Edward, at present King of England, who will decide whom my son shall marry.

I shall do that. My son will listen to me, not his father; and if the lady is one of his choice― believe me, there will be no difficulty.’

‘I confess,’ said the Count, ‘that your suggestion has taken me by surprise.’

The Queen bowed her head. Indeed it must have done. The future King of

England to marry the daughter of a Count of Hainault! But anything― anything for an army.

‘I should like to discuss this with the Countess,’ went on the Count. ‘She has always been most concerned about our girls’ future.’

‘Do so,’ said Isabella. ‘But remember that this happy state of affairs could only come about if I were successful in ridding the country of the Despensers.’

She did not add: And by deposing the King and setting my son on the throne.

But that was what she meant.

The Count hurried to his wife and they discussed the matter long into the

night.

‘There would never be such another opportunity,’ said the Count.

The Countess agreed. ‘Moreover,’ she added, ‘the girls are all of them

already enamoured of Edward. He is a most attractive boy. I confess I should be very proud for him to become our son-in-law. And then― the crown of

England.’

‘What if the Queen’s attempts to depose the King should fail?’

‘If she had enough men to go against him why should she fail? You know

how matters stand in England. Our friend there tell us that people are turning against the King every day.’

‘Yes, but they are really against the Despensers. If he sent them away―’

‘He never will. The weaker he grows the more he relies on them.’

‘But to be involved in a war against England― for that what it amounts to!’

The Countess was astute. ‘There is a way,’ she said. ‘You could provide the army without being personally involved.’

‘How so?’

The Queen of England wishes her son to marry one of our girls. We agree to this. You will provide the dowry which will be enough for the Queen to raise an army among our people. Then― if aught should go wrong you have merely

supplied a dowry not an army.’

The Count looked at his wife with admiration.

‘It is the answer,’ he said. They were silent for a while, both thinking how glorious it would be on the day when one of the girls became the Queen of

England.

‘It must be Margaret,’ said the Countess firmly. ‘She is the eldest and it is fitting that she should be the first to be married.’

‘It shall be as you say,’ replied the Count.

–――――――

Isabella and Mortimer were overjoyed. The opportunity had come at last.

‘Oh what a blessing,’ cried Isabella, ‘that the Count of Hainault has four marriageable daughters!’

Sir John was ecstatically happy because the matter had been so cleverly

arranged, and immediately set about getting army together.

The fact that the dowry provided by the Count enabled this to be paid for

was not mentioned and neither Edward nor the girls realized that marriage had been discussed.

They carried on meeting frequently and often Philippa and Edward managed

to slip away undetected when they were riding with a party.

He told her a great deal about his youth and that there was trouble at home now because of a conflict between his father and mother. Philippa was most sympathetic. She could imagine how distressing that must be. He said he would like to show her England and that when he went home and all the trouble was over he would insist on her coming there. He would enjoy showing her his

country.

‘You will be King of it one day,’ she said, her blue eyes wide with a kind of wondering admiration.

‘I shall have to wait until my father dies. I mean to be a great King, Philippa.

I am going to be like my grandfather―’

He stopped, remembering that he was repeating what had been said to him

so often and that it was disloyal towards his father. Philippa immediately understood. She and her sisters had become very interested in England since Edward and his mother had come to Hainault and they asked a great many

questions about England. They had gleaned that there was something unusual about the King of England but they did not know what.

‘He is not like your father,’ the Countess had said firmly and left it at that; but she had implied that there must be something very wrong with someone who was so emphatically not like their father.

With Sir John’s exuberance and the determination of the Queen and Roger

de Mortimer the army was ready in a very short time.

The day came when they must leave.

The four girls, all saddened by the departure of the young Prince, stood

beside their mother as the Queen took a fond farewell of them and said that she would never, never forget the kindness she had received from the Count and her dear cousin in her hour of need. She embraced the girls and at last it was Edward’s turn.

He stood before them, startlingly handsome, looking as some noted; already a king.

He took leave of the Count and Countess and then turned to the rosy-

cheeked girls.

He was telling them how much he had enjoyed his stay with them, how he

would never forget their kindness, when he saw that the tears in Philippa’s eyes had started to flow down her cheeks; and then suddenly before she could stop herself she was, sobbing bitterly.

The Prince went to her and laid his hands on her shoulders.

‘Do not weep, little Philippa,’ he said, but she had covered her face with her hands. Then he said: ‘Look at me.’

She lowered her hands and he said: ‘We shall meet again. I promise you.’

The Countess had laid her arm about her daughter’s shoulders while the

Queen thought how informal they were in Hainault. She was glad that Philippa had been so overcome. It was most affecting.

But she was eager to be away.

She had her armies― two of them― the English contingent led by Mortimer

and the men of Hainault by Sir John. She was all set for conquest.

THE QUEEN’S TRIUMPH

THE Queen and her armies had arrived at Dort where they embarked on the

ships which were waiting for them.

With Mortimer beside her the Queen watched the loading of the ships; the

wind caught her hair and with the bush of triumph in her cheeks she had never seemed so beautiful.

‘Gentle Mortimer,’ she said, ‘I have a feeling that God is with us this day.

So much for which I have longed has come to pass. Thank God for Edward who shortly will be our King.’

‘And whose betrothal to one of the giggling Flemish girls has given us our armies.’

‘Forget not, dear Mortimer, that one day one of those girls will be the Queen of England.’

‘You are the cleverest woman on earth as well as the most beautiful.’

‘And you are the wisest man on earth, Mortimer, for joining with me.’

Mortimer left her to supervise his army. The Prince was with him and Sir

John was similarly engaged.

Soon they were sailing away and the coast of Holland was lost from sight.

Alas, a storm arose and some of the ships were badly battered. Then the

Queen was terrified that the elements were going to destroy all her well-laid plans. She prayed to God not to desert her now. For hours the storm raged

delaying their journey– there were moments when she believed this was the

end. But her joy was overwhelming when she at last beheld the coast of England and she went on deck and looked about her. She saw at once that many of the ships had suffered considerable damage, and some of them had actually been smashed to pieces by the fearful tempest. It now remained to get ashore and assess the damage in detail.

It was noon when she had glimpsed the coast but midnight before everything was brought ashore. Although some men and arms had been lost a considerable force remained. Her knights and attendants made a tent for her from carpets and they lighted a fire for her to warm herself. The wind was strong and it was an uncomfortable night but she was relieved to hear from Mortimer and Sir John that the damage and loss had been less than they had at first feared.

As soon as day broke they were anxious to move from the windy shore and

in a short time they were in the town of Harwich where Isabella’s brother-in-law, Edward’s half-brother Thomas of Brotherton, came to greet her.

She had always been on very friendly terms with Edward’s half-brothers,

Edmund of Kent and Thomas of Brotheron; their French mother, Edward the

First’s second wife Marguerite, was of course closely related to Isabella.

Marguerite had brought up her boys to observe certain French customs and this meant that there had been an immediate rapport between them and Isabella.

At times like this that was very apparent and it was fortunate for her that they were more ready to be on her side than on Edward’s. Moreover, like so many people in England they were with anyone who was against the

Despensers.

The news of her arrival spread through the countryside, She was the

wronged wife of a pervert King, it was said; she had flown from England out of fear of the wicked Despensers who had bewitched the King even as Gaveston―

of evil repute― had done. They rallied to her banner; not only the common

people but the barons who had for a long time been determined to take the first opportunity of getting rid of the King’s favourite.

Adam of Orlton, Bishop of Hereford, who had done so much to help Roger

de Mortimer escape the Tower, was overjoyed when he heard of the arrival of the Queen and her army. He had been living uneasily in England, protected only by his calling; and he knew that if the King and his friends ever had a chance of taking revenge on him they would seize it,

Now that the Queen had arrived with her army that chance even receded

even farther.

He set out to meet Isabella, to assure her of his devotion, which was

unnecessary really; he had shown that when he had so ably assisted Mortimer’s escape.

He was received with affection by the Queen and Mortimer and the very

next day preached a sermon in their presence to which the people flocked so that the church was filled to overflowing and the people crowded into the porch and at the windows to hear him.

He took the opportunity of thundering against the King and took his subject from the fourth chapter of the second book of Kings when the man complained of the sickness in his head and shortly after died.

‘When the head of a kingdom becometh sick and full of disease,’ thundered

Adam, ‘it must be taken off and it is useless to resort to other remedies.’

The congregation listened in awed silence. The Queen glanced at Mortimer

who was smiling quietly. The Prince was anxious but he now fully believed that what his father was doing was against the good of England and each day he was becoming more and more sure of his destiny.

He believed now that what was good for England must be done, and here

was a Holy Bishop in his pulpit confirming all that he had learned from his mother.

It was sad. It was tragic. But it was right.

–――――――

The King was in the palace of the Tower of London when news was brought

to him of the Queen’s arrival in England with one army led by Roger de

Mortimer and another by John of Hainault.

And they came against him!

He sent at once for Hugh. He had never seen Hugh so disturbed before.

Hugh had always comforted him, refusing to believe in harm, always seeing the bright side of life. It was one quality Edward especially loved about him.

‘They will not succeed,’ cried Hugh. ‘We will raise an army.’

‘How?’ asked his father.

‘We will do it,’ insisted Hugh. ‘First we must get away from here. The

Londoners have always disliked you and loved the Queen. Once the news

reaches London it will be too late.’

Although it was a mild September day it was chilly as always in the Tower

and yet the sweat was on Edward’s brow and there was a terrible fear within him. They were going to take Hugh away from him. He would never allow that.

He would accept anything rather than that.

He turned to Hugh with appealing eyes. ‘We must stay together,’ he said.

‘So shall we, my lord. But we shall have to leave London without delay.’

‘The children―’ began Edward.

His son John of Eltham and his two daughters Eleanor and Joanna were in

their apartments in this very Tower. Could they take them with them?

Hugh shook his head. ‘My wife will take charge of them,’ he said. ‘We

should escape and as soon as possible.’

‘And what of London? Who will defend it?’

‘Good Bishop Stapledon has shown himself a friend to us. Let us leave him

here to hold the City for you.’

‘Excellent,’ cried Edward. ‘Let that be done.’

‘I suggest,’ said the elder Despenser, ‘that we make for Bristol. Then, if the need should arise we can take ship to Ireland.’

‘It must be so, I suppose,’ sighed the King. ‘Who would have believed it

possible that my own Queen should so turn against me!’

‘She was always jealous of me,’ replied Hugh.

‘But she did not appear to mind. She was always so ready to be with me―’

‘We did not realize, my lord, that we had a she-wolf in our midst.’

‘And she has Edward with her! That I find hard to bear.’

‘She has John of Hainault and Mortimer―’

‘That traitor! There shall be a price on his head. Oh God, why did I not have that head when I had a chance to take it?’

Edward sighed and looked back over a reign of lost opportunities but there was no time for regrets now. The Earls of Arundel and Hereford had arrived at the Tower. They had come to warn the King.

‘I have some friends left then,’ said Edward.

They agreed that the best plan was to leave London with all haste and make for Bristol.

–――――――

It was impossible to keep the departure a secret and very soon it was being whispered throughout the streets of London that the King had fled and the

Queen was on the way.

The streets were full of shouting people. ‘Down with the King! Down with

the Despensers! Long live the Queen and Prince Edward!’

There was no doubt that, to a man, London was for the Queen.

Walter Stapledon was deeply disturbed by the shouts he heard in the streets of London and was making his way towards the Tower, the custody of which

the King had left to him. He was wondering whether the royal children there would be safe in charge of Hugh le Despenser’s wife and thought that perhaps she had not been a good choice. Anyone connected with the Despensers would be unpopular with the mob.

He intended to fortify the Tower lest the Londoners should attempt to take it. He must act quickly.

As he was hurrying along he heard his name spoken.

He shivered. Someone had recognized him. He quickened his pace but he

realized that he was being followed.

‘Stapledon,’ he heard. ‘The King’s Bishop! He spied on the Queen.’

He was in the midst of his enemies. He hurried through an alley and changed direction. He would make for St Paul’s and sanctuary. If the mob were aroused against him it would be the end.

But he was too late. They were all around him.

‘It is the traitor Bishop,’ they jeered. ‘Dear friend of Edward and the

Despensers. We know what to do with such like, do we not, even if he be a

Bishop?’

He heard the ribald laughter; he saw the leering faces― he was conscious of the merciless mob.

Someone tore at his cloak. In a few seconds they had his shirt from his back.

He was naked before their jeering eyes.

‘There stands a spy and a traitor to our lady the Queen.’

He felt the stab of a knife piercing his flesh. The blood was trickling down his face and he was swaying before them.

He fell and they kicked him; they trampled over him; vaguely he could hear their jeering voices. ‘Spy! Enemy! Friend of the minions― Bishop or not he must die―’

He believed he was praying but he was not sure. But he did know that he

was dying. They meant to kill him but not too quickly. They wanted first their sport. They were dragging him along the ground. His body was mangled and cut in places. Obscenity was in the air. Were they speaking of him? What did it matter what they did to him? He was slowly slipping away.

‘He’s finished,’ said a voice in the crowd.

‘What shall we do with him now― our fine Bishop?’

‘We’ll carve him up and send his head to the Queen― a gift from the loyal

people of London. Would we had the Despenser here.’

So they marched to the Tower carrying the bleeding head of the Bishop and

there they demanded that Prince John and the two Princesses be given into their care to be sent to join the Queen.

This was a token of London’s love for that lady.

–――――――

The messengers were brought to Isabella in the castle of Gloucester, one of them carried the head of Walter Stapledon.

Isabella stared at it and remembered how the owner of that head had refused to join her in Paris and had slipped away to report her deeds to the King. ‘His just reward,’ she said.

‘With the compliments of the people of London, my lady,’ said one of the

messengers.

‘Return to them and tell them that I love them even as they have shown they love me.’

The messenger bowed and left.

Another messenger was brought to her. He told her that the people of

London had released her children from the Tower and because they believed she would wish to have them with her, they had sent them to Gloucester.

‘My blessings on them,’ she cried. ‘Let my children be brought to me.’

She embraced them fiercely. It seemed so long since she had seen them: ten-year-old John, eight-year-old Eleanor and five year-old Joanna. They clung to her for they had been frightened by everything that had been happening. Their father had gone away suddenly and left them and there had been a great deal of shouting outside the Tower before people had burst in. Then they had been told that they were being taken to their mother.

‘It is my friends who have brought you here, my darlings,’ cried the Queen.

‘There. All is well now. You shall see your brother Edward, for he is here with me.’

‘When shall we see our father?’ asked John.

‘Of that we cannot be sure,’ answered their mother glibly. ‘Never mind, you are safe with me now.’

Joanna was ready to be happy but the two elder ones were uneasy, thinking

of their father. He had been strange when he and Hugh had gone away and he had told them to do all that Lady le Despenser told them to; and Lady le Despenser had been crying a great deal so they knew that something was wrong.

John had comforted the little girls and told them that it would be all right when they saw Edward, and they were going to see Edward now.

At the moment they could not help being overawed by their beautiful mother who had suddenly grown so fond of them though she had never taken much

notice of them before. All her attention had been for Edward. But they forgot that now. It was pleasant to be embraced by her and made much of and told how glad she was to have them with her.

They were presented to Roger de Mortimer and Sir John of Hainault, both of whom smiled affectionately at them and made as though they were delighted to see them. So they had suddenly become important which was very gratifying.

Delighted by the arrival of the children and the head of the Bishop of Exeter, Isabella was anxious to show the Londoners her appreciation.

She told Mortimer that she intended to appoint a new governor of the Tower and a Mayor of London and she believed he would approve of the choice.

‘You remember the two merchants who were so helpful when you escaped

from the Tower?’

‘Indeed I do. I don’t think we could have managed so well without them.’

‘Adam arranged it of course.’

‘Ah yes, a good friend Adam, but we do owe a good deal to de Bettoyne

and de Gisors.’

‘So thought I. That is why I have decided to appoint de Gisors Constable of the Tower and de Bettoyne Mayor of London.’

‘An excellent choice,’ smiled Mortimer.

‘It will show them that I remember those who serve me well,’ murmured

Isabella.

–――――――

Edward, accompanied by young Hugh, retired to the Castle of Bristol

leaving old Hugh and the Earl of Arundel to hold the City for him.

There was not a hope that Bristol would resist the invading forces of the

Queen. The people had no wish to. Like the rest of the country they were against the King.

So the Queen’s army was welcomed and the people came out to cheer the

troops as they marched through the streets with Roger de Mortimer at their head.

When he discovered that old Hugh was in the town he was delighted. Now

had the time come to settle old scores.

‘There must be no delay,’ he said. ‘Despenser and Arundel with him must be tried and sentenced immediately.’

The Queen agreed with him and the two men were brought before her and

the barons, at the head of whom were Mortimer and Sir John of Hainault, for she said that they must be judged according to their deeds.

Sir Hugh lifted his head high and met her gaze unflinchingly.

‘Ah, my lady,’ he said quietly, ‘God grant us an upright judge and a just

sentence. And if we cannot find it in this world, we may find it in another.’

Death was imminent, he knew, for he could not expect pity from either the

Queen or her lover. The fact that he was a man of sixty-four did not move them in the least. He was one of the Despensers loathed by the Queen and the

country. He had been avaricious, it was true, but he had tried to do what he thought was right for the country providing it did not interfere with his personal gain. He was not a good man, not a great man; he had committed sins; but there were many who prospered and were more deserving of death than he was.

This was what he wanted to tell his judges, but they were not interested in his defence. They had determined at the start of his brief trial to prove him guilty.

They did and he and Arundel were sentenced to the cruel death which it had become the custom to bestow on traitors. They believed right to the end that their nobility would save them from that barbarous end and beheading be

substituted. But this was not to be.

There should be no mercy for a Despenser and those who upheld them,

decreed the Queen and Mortimer.

So the two men were taken out and hanged, drawn and quartered.

The Queen was exultant. ‘There is one Despenser the less,’ she said.

‘And still one to suffer a similar fate,’ replied Mortimer grimly.

–――――――

Edward in Bristol Castle was almost mad with grief and fear.

Hugh from a window in the castle had heard the shouts of the people. He

had seen the body of his father dangling on a rope and he knew what tortures followed.

He felt sick with grief. He and his father had worked together all their lives; they had revelled in each other’s triumphs and commiserated with each other’s failures. And to think of that revered old man in the hands of his rough

executioners was more than his son could bear.

Edward tried to comfort him, but there was no comfort for Hugh.

What there was, was the awful realization that very soon they would come

for him and he knew well that a similar fate awaited him.

Edward clung to him in terror. ‘Hugh, they have done that to your father! Oh they are devils! They will burn in hell for this. Your dear, dear father―’