The Red Rose of Anjou (31 page)

Henry wanted to bestow the seals on his good friend William Waynflete, Bishop of Winchester and Margaret saw no reason why Henry should not be indulged in this. Waynflete was a good Lancastrian—not fiercely against the Duke of York it was true, but believing firmly that Henry was the rightful King and should be supported for this reason. He and Henry had had many a happy hour together, discussing theology and architecture. Waynflete had often accompanied the King to Eton and King’s College and had a great interest in them.

Yes, Waynflete was the man.

The changes were completed before York could do anything about it and there was consternation in Sandal Castle near Wakefield when the news was brought to York.

His resignation demanded! It was hardly necessary. He was already deprived of his post. The King was now well enough to resume his duties.

It was a complete surprise.

The family clustered round him. Edward wanted his father to tell him exactly what had happened. He wanted to set out right away and force another battle on the King. Edmund, his brother and younger by a year, was eager to hear more of the details. George was trying to imitate Edward and talking of battle and little Richard toddled up to try and understand what all the excitement was about. Even the little girls were listening.

Cecily was furious. ‘This is that woman’s doing,’ she said.

Edward nodded. All the children knew that ‘that woman’ was the Queen and that she was very wicked. George said that she had come from France riding on a broomstick and it was only because she was a witch that she had been able to marry the King. When Elizabeth had asked Edward if this were true he had shrugged it aside impatiently.

‘When they say she’s a witch,’ he explained, ‘that just means that she’s artful and wicked and cruel and ought to be destroyed.’

The Duke of York said: ‘Of course it is her doing. Henry never has the wit to do anything alone.’

The children were overawed. Their father was speaking of the King and only their father could speak thus of the King. Everyone else had to be very careful. This was because their father

really should have been King and that was what all the trouble was about.

Even the little ones wore their white roses and they always kept their eyes open for anyone wearing a red rose; if they saw anyone—though they rarely did in Yorkshire and anywhere near them, wherever they were—Edward and Edmund always wanted to kill them.

‘When shall we be marching down south?’ asked Edward. He would be rather sorry to go because there was a certain serving-woman in whom he was interested. She was old—by his standards—but he did not mind that any more than she minded his youth. She had so much to teach him; he enjoyed his lessons with her and did not want to break them off... even for a battle.

‘I don’t think we shall be,’ said the Duke thoughtfully.

‘You mean you are going to stand by and let that woman treat you like that?’ cried Cecily.

‘My dear, we do not want civil war.’

‘You were the victor at St. Albans. That should have been an end of it.’

‘I believe it should. But rest assured, Cis, there will be no end to conflict while the Queen holds sway over the King.’

‘What nonsense! You have shown you are more fit to rule than Henry.’

‘I think the people know that. They will remember...when the time comes. But that time is not yet.’

It was not long before Salisbury arrived. He had heard the news too.

‘What does it mean?’ he asked.

‘That the King is in better health. He must be, to have presented himself to the Parliament. He is King once more which means that I am no longer Protector.’

‘And what do you propose to do about it?’

‘Nothing,’ said York. ‘Remain here in the country...and wait.’

Salisbury was in complete agreement. ‘And wait,’ he said, but there was something ominous in the words.

###

Margaret was gratified when York made no attempt to dispute the fact that it was the King’s right to rule and that he was fit to do so.

‘He knows when he is beaten,’ she remarked to young Somerset. ‘Though he is wrong if he thinks I shall ever forget what he has done. I shall remind Henry for he is apt to forget that whatever York says, he took up arms against his King at St. Albans.’

‘We shall have the traitor’s head yet.’ Somerset promised her.

‘I am determined on it. York need not think that all is forgotten and forgiven. That shall never be. I am going to discover the mood of the country and I shall take Henry and the Prince on a long progress. I want the people to see their King, that he is well and that he is able to rule them. He is never averse to these journeys and if he can visit the churches and the monasteries, he will be happy. The people like that too. It pleases them that they have a saintly and virtuous King.’

It was agreed that such a progress would be beneficial to the Lancastrian cause and the Queen would be able to assess what subject she could rely on. She dreamed ol leading a triumphant army against York.

With characteristic energy she set about planning the tour. They would ride slowly through the country, pausing at great manor houses and castles on their way where they would stay a few days and let the people see them. I hey would make their way to Coventry which had always been a loyal city. And when the time had come...when the country was behind her she would strike.

So the progress began. The King was sincerely welcomed; the little Prince was cheered wherever they went; and if the greeting for Margaret was less exuberant, she could bear that. These people would understand in the end, she promised herself.

They came to Coventry and there held Court. The ladies of the castle worked a tapestry in honour of the visit. It was beautiful and depicted Margaret at prayer in a head-dress decorated with pearls and a yellow brocaded dress edged with ermine. The King was shown beside her and the tapestry was hung in St. Mary’s Hall as a token ol the town’s loyal regard for its sovereigns.

While they were at Coventry Margaret advised the King to send for York, Salisbury and Warwick to come to them there. They all declined, sensing trouble. How could they go, asked York, without taking an armed force with them? And if they did that it would not look as though they came in peace. Salisbury agreed with him. As for Warwick, he was too busy in Calais where his duties would not allow him to leave.

‘They are afraid to come,’ exulted Margaret, and from what was to be called the Safe Harbour of Coventry she went on with her plans.

###

Steeped as she was in plots for revenge she could still spare time for romance. She liked to discuss her plans with Henry because he always agreed and smiled at her tenderly calling her the Royal Matchmaker.

‘Well,’ she said, ‘now that dear Edmund has been murdered...’ She always referred to Somerset’s death in battle as murder and the murderer-in-chief as York—’I feel it is my duty to look to the welfare of his sons.’

‘I think you could have been said to have done that, Margaret,’ replied the King.

‘They are good boys. If Edmund had lived they would have been married by now.’

‘I daresay they will in due course.’

‘They should have the best possible matches and I think I have found the answer. The King of Scotland has two daughters. I thought it would be a good idea if they were married to Henry and his brother Edmund.’

‘King’s daughters!’

‘Well, why not? The Beauforts are royal are they not? The family has been legitimized and they are in a direct line from John of Gaunt.’

‘Yes, but what will James say...?’

‘James of Scotland could, I am sure, be persuaded. We owe it to Edmund, Henry, to look after his sons.’

‘My dear Margaret, if this were acceptable to the King of Scotland I would raise no objection.’

‘I should think not,’ cried Margaret. ‘Such marriages could bring us nothing but good.’

‘I do not think the King of Scotland would agree.’

‘He certainly cannot if he does not know what is proposed.’

‘My dear, if it is your wish...’

‘It is and it should be yours. Have you thought what these marriages could mean to us? There is always trouble on the Border’ With Henry Beaufort up there and his brother with him, we should have friends, not enemies, in the Scots.’

‘If it would mean peace, my dear lady, I would give every encouragement to it.’

Margaret was pleased. The King’s approval was not necessary to her but she always felt that she liked to have it.

She set negotiations in motion. It was a disappointment that there was a lukewarm response from the King of Scots which might well mean ‘Don’t meddle in these matters and keep your matchmaking schemes within the bounds of your own country.’ If she was proposing a match with the Prince of Wales that would be another matter.

Margaret was obliged temporarily to shelve the matter. There was something of great importance with which to occupy herself, and this she determined to carry on without consultation with Henry.

She had always kept in touch with her uncle the King of France and her father the titular King of Sicily and Naples. If René was rather frivolous, the King of France was far from that. Margaret was eager to make the throne safe for Henry and she felt it could never be that while York lived. She would not be happy until she saw York’s head displayed on some prominent edifice for all to witness his defeat and humiliation. Vengeance was like a burning fire within her which could only be doused by horrible death. It did not occur to her that for the Queen of England to indulge in correspondence with an enemy of England was more than incongruous. It could be construed as treachery and in view of her unpopularity, which was already overpowering, Margaret was playing a very dangerous game.

There was one whom Margaret hated almost as intensely as she did the Duke of York and that was the Earl of Warwick. It was Warwick’s tactics which had achieved victory at St. Albans for the Yorkists. He was as dangerous as York. The only difference was that he laid no claim to the throne.

Warwick—with characteristic shrewdness—had taken over the governorship of Calais, which some said was the most important port in Europe, and if it had not been quite that before, Warwick was certainly making it so now. He was turning himself into a kind of pirate king of the Channel, and making it impossible for French ships to pass through with safety.

Margaret had already written to her uncle explaining that she did not want Warwick back in England. He was too clever, too important to the Yorkist cause and while he was in Calais he was kept out of the way. Would the King harry the port a little, making Warwick’s presence in Calais absolutely necessary to its safety. Threaten it. Make a determined set at it. At all costs keep Warwick out of England.

Again it did not occur to her that to ask an enemy of her country to attack one of its possessions was treachery of the worst |l kind. Margaret was single-minded. She wanted Henry safe on the throne and that could only be brought about by the death of York and she did not care what means she employed to bring that about.

Charles VII had changed since those days when as Dauphin he has listlessly allowed his country to slip out of his grasp. He was now reckoned to be the most astute monarch in Europe. He wanted to help his dear niece, he wrote, and he was authorizing Pierre de Brézé, the Seneschal of Normandy, who had always been one of Margaret’s devoted admirers, to prepare a fleet for the purpose of destroying Warwick’s fleet and immobilizing the port of Calais so that—so said the King of France—Warwick would be unable to use it for attacks on Margaret and Henry. He did not add that Calais was the town he most desired to get his hands on.

Margaret was delighted. Warwick would never be able to stand out against a French fleet.

It was summer when the fleet was ready. De Brézé sailed along the coast looking for Warwick’s fleet. But a heavy mist fell and visibility was poor and there was no sign of Warwick and his ships. It was a pity, thought de Brézé, for he had sixty ships manned to the strength of four thousand and he contemplated an easy victory.

Land came into sight. He was puzzled. It could only be England. He lay off the shore for a while and when the mist lifted a little he knew with certainty that he was close to the English coast.

He landed some of his men in a quiet bay and then sailed along until he came to the town of Sandwich.

He then set the rest ashore. The people of Sandwich were taken unaware. When they had first seen the ships they had thought they were Warwick’s and were prepared to give them a good welcome, for Warwick was regarded as a hero in Kent.

The raid was successful—from the French point of view, and de Brézé sailed away with booty and prisoners from whose families he hoped to collect considerable ransoms.

When it was discovered that the Queen had actually requested the help of the French—for there were spies in the royal household and Margaret, who was impulsive in her actions was also careless and some of the correspondence between her and the King of France had been intercepted—the hatred towards her intensified. She was a traitor. She was fighting for the French against the English. Their own Queen. They had never liked her. Now a wave of hatred spread through the country and nowhere was this stronger than in the county of Kent and the city of London. They blamed her for the raid on Sandwich. They blamed her for loss of trade which upset the Londoners particularly.

Margaret’s little scheme to immobilize Calais had failed dismally and had moreover harmed her reputation irreparably.

Henry was most upset and realized that Margaret, in her enthusiasm, had done a great deal of harm. He tried to explain to her and for the first time she understood that he could be firm.

He
was
after all the King; there were times when his royalty seemed important to him. ‘I am the King,’ he would gently remind those who sought to override him—even Margaret.

‘This warring can bring us no good,’ he declared with a certain strength. ‘I am eager to put an end to it.’

‘You never will while York lives,’ said Margaret grimly.