The Star of Lancaster (13 page)

There was great rejoicing in Kenilworth when news arrived there that John of Gaunt had returned from Castile, and so eager was he to see his grandsons that he was setting out at once for the castle with his mistress Lady Swynford.

Joan Waring was determined to show off her charges at their best at the same time declaring that there was not to be too much excitement for that would not be good for her babies – particularly the Lord Harry who was naughty enough without that. She was more concerned about him than she was about
baby Thomas. Lord Harry was what she called a Pickle and could be relied upon to make some sort of trouble no matter where he was. Moreover his delicacy persisted and she had to keep a special eye on him.

‘We must see that he is not allowed to disgrace himself before his grandfather, Joan,’ said Mary.

When the great man arrived accompanied by his beautiful mistress, he embraced his son and Mary warmly, studying Mary a little anxiously for he had had word of the illness which had almost ended her life at the time of Harry’s birth. She looked frail still but her skin glowed with health and her eyes were bright.

‘And my grandson?’ cried the Duke. ‘So this is young Harry, eh.’

He lifted up the child and the two regarded each other steadily until Harry’s attention was caught by the lions and leopards emblazoned on his grandfather’s surcoat and he clearly found them more interesting than their owner.

‘He looks to me like a young fellow who will have his way,’ said the Duke.

‘My lord, you speak truth there,’ replied Mary. ‘He is the despair of his nurse.’

‘Well, we do not want a boy who is afraid of his shadow, do we. So we’ll not complain.’

He put down Harry who made no secret of the fact that he relished being released.

The baby was brought to him and he took the child in his arms.

‘Thomas is a good baby,’ said his mother. ‘He smiles a great deal, cries very little and seems contented with his lot.’

‘Let us hope he remains so,’ said the Duke. ‘You have a fine family, Mary. May God bless you and keep you and them.’

She thanked him and left him with Henry while she took Lady Swynford to the room she would share with the Duke and talked to her about the children and household matters.

Lady Swynford, having borne the Duke four children and being the mother of two by her first husband, was knowledgeable and ready to impart this knowledge and advice.

She had a friendly personality and her devotion to the Duke and his to her, made Mary warm towards her. Because she refused to consider there was anything shameful in the relationship based as it was on selfless love, there seemed to be none; and Mary was happy to welcome Lady Swynford with the respect she would have shown to Constanza Duchess of Lancaster and, she was sure, with a good deal more affection.

The two women found undoubted pleasure in each other’s company. Mary could talk of her anxieties about Harry’s health and his wayward nature and Catherine could imply her own anxiety for her Beaufort family, those three sons and one daughter who were the Duke’s and who were illegitimate, for however much their parents loved them the stigma was there and the rest of the world would not pretend it was not.

However, they were philosophical and both happy with their lot.

Catherine could interest herself in the trivia of domesticity as deeply as Mary could. She could admire Mary’s handsome popinjay in its beautiful cage and declare that, although many of the fashionable ladies possessed them, she had never seen a finer bird than Mary’s. She could laugh at the antics of Mary’s dogs and compliment her on the decorated collars of silk in green and white check, which she herself had had made for them. All this she could do as any woman might and yet she had a deep awareness of political matters which she could
discuss with a lucidity Mary had discovered in no one else and consequently she could more clearly picture what was happening. Moreover Catherine shared Mary’s fears of what their men might be led into; and they felt similarly about the futility of war and any sort of conflict. Thus they found great pleasure in each other’s company.

Meanwhile the Duke was in earnest conclave with his son. He knew of course what had happened in his absence, how Henry with the other four Lords Appellant had faced the King and forced the Merciless Parliament on him.

‘Dangerous,’ commented the Duke. ‘And your uncle Thomas is not to be trusted.’

‘Well I know that,’ replied Henry, ‘but our action bore fruit.’

‘Do not underestimate Richard,’ insisted his father. ‘He acts foolishly I admit but he has flashes of wisdom. You see he has extricated himself from a very difficult position, accepts the restrictions imposed on him and now that he is not hedged in by his favourites, rules moderately well.’

‘Yet it was necessary to act as he did.’

‘That I do not deny. But be wary, Henry. Richard is not likely to forget you five, and he is one who bears grudges. It might well be that he will seek some revenge.’

‘But he must realise that affairs run more smoothly now. He should be grateful to us.’

‘Do you think a king, no matter who he was, would ever forget being confronted by five of his subjects who threaten to take his crown if he does not behave as they think fit. Nay, Henry. Walk warily. My advice to you is to stay in the country for a while. Keep out of politics. It is a course I have had to follow from time to time and always did so with advantage.’

Henry did see the point of this and decided he would try it for a while but, as he pointed out to his father, he could not be content for ever with the life of a country squire.

‘There is to be a great joust at St Inglebert near Calais. Why do you not go and show them your skill? Your brother John should go with you. I doubt there are two knights in France or England who could compare with you two.’

The Duke spoke with pride. He was always trying to bring forward the Beaufort bastards, the sons of Catherine, and he liked Henry to be on good terms with his half-brothers.

‘It would keep you busy for a while,’ went on the Duke, ‘and one can never be sure what is going to happen next. There might come a time when it would be necessary for you to take some part in shaping affairs. But this is not the time. Richard has regained some popularity since de Vere went. The people do not want trouble. Wait, Henry. Go carefully, but keep your image before the people. They like you better than they ever liked me. It would be wise for you to let it remain so.’

‘You ever gave me good advice,’ said Henry.

‘My dear son, you are my hope. Everything I dreamed of for myself, I want for you. My affairs in Castile are settled now. Constanza’s girl – and mine – has married the heir to the throne and will be Queen of the Asturias. That settles that matter. Constanza is pleased. She will not have the crown nor shall I, but our daughter will wear it. Your sister Philippa has married the King of Portugal. I feel I need no longer take an active part in state affairs. I have not achieved what I set out to, but who does? I must now live through my children. Henry, one day, who knows what will be yours . . . Be ready for it. Richard is unstable . . . the day may come . . . But I will say no more. It is unwise to dream too much. But be ready . . . It is a
stormy path to greatness; so many fall through a false step. We are set fair. You have two fine sons. I am proud of you.’

‘You are right in all you say, Father,’ said Henry; and they were silent, both looking into the future and there were dreams of greatness in their eyes.

Before John of Gaunt’s visit was over Henry had made up his mind to join the joust at St Inglebert; and by the time he left Kenilworth Mary was once more pregnant.

The two brothers set out for France and threw themselves wholeheartedly into the task of upholding English honour against the French.

They were friends, having known each other well throughout their childhood. Their father had never wished to segregate his legitimate children by Blanche of Lancaster from those who were illegitimate by Catherine Swynford. His daughter Catherine by Constanza of Castile had always lived with her mother; but the rest of the family had been together a good deal, often under the care of Lady Swynford.

John was a young man with his eye to his own advantage. He was a little younger than Henry, though not much, he being the eldest of the Beaufort boys. He was handsome, showing more than a trace or two of his Plantagenet origins and he had inherited a little of his mother’s unusual beauty. He was quick, clever, and a pleasant companion; and, although he had ambitions of his own, he never for one moment forgot that Henry was the heir of Lancaster, that he had the tremendous advantage of being the legitimate son and John knew that all the blessings which his mother, brothers and sisters had enjoyed had flowed from John of Gaunt, and when that
benefactor was removed – and death only would remove him – they would have to come from Henry who then would be the new Duke of Lancaster.

John had a great admiration for royalty. It had been bred in him; it was his boast that he had royal blood in his veins – even though it had been injected on the wrong side of the blanket – and therefore he doubly admired Henry, for that blood had come to him not only through his father but also through his mother.

Henry was descended from Henry the Third on both sides, for his mother and father were that king’s great-great-grandchildren and their great grandfathers Edward the First and Edmund Duke of Lancaster had been brothers.

There was complete harmony between the brothers – John being determined to please Henry and Henry enjoying the obvious respect of his half-brother. Moreover it was not merely paternal pride when John of Gaunt had declared them to be two of the finest exponents of the joust in England and France. They had received the best possible instruction in their childhood and both being of a nature which longed to excel they had turned into truly formidable opponents for any who challenged them.

It was a glittering occasion, and a happy one, for it was such a pleasure to go into combat against the French in a
joust à Plaisance
, and it transpired that the two champions were Henry of Bolingbroke and his half-brother John Beaufort. Honour was done to them and they were cheered and fêted.

Louis de Clermont, Duke de Bourbon, who was among the knights present, was greatly impressed by their prowess and he invited them to come to his tent where he promised to entertain them royally.

Many of the French nobles were gathered there and the guests were served with special delicacies and fine wine such as the French produced better than any other nation; and during the feast Louis de Clermont talked at great length about an expedition he was going to launch.

‘I have had a deputation sent to me from the rich merchants of Genoa,’ he explained to Henry and John. ‘It appears they are plagued by Barbary pirates who waylay their ships and rob them of their merchandise. They say the menace grows and they plead for help.’

‘What do you propose to do?’ asked Henry.

‘It would be profitable for all those who took part,’ went on Louis. ‘It would be a great adventure. We should be helping to promote trade. The merchants are doing good work. But they cannot go on if this wicked piracy continues. You ask what I propose, my friend. It is to take out a band of brave and adventurous men and attack El Mahadia, the home of the corsairs. They sail from there; they have their homes there. Mahadia grows richer as Genoa grows poorer. The robbers are winning the battle against honest traders.’

‘It sounds a worthy project,’ said John Beaufort.

‘It is, indeed it is. What I need is men who know how to handle a sword. They are desperate men, these corsairs. It would be a fine adventure. We should recapture the spoils which have been stolen from the merchants and let me tell you, the merchants would be so grateful to see the end of the corsairs that the goods would be our reward.’

‘Are you inviting us to join your expedition?’ asked Henry.

‘I should be glad of your company,’ was the answer.

John Beaufort’s eyes were gleaming. The thought of that treasure was very attractive to him.

Henry was more cautious. ‘Let us think about it,’ he said. ‘It is not a matter to be lightly decided.’

Louis de Clermont agreed. He was pleased; he felt certain that these two young men, who certainly knew how to handle a sword, would be members of his party.

When they were alone in their tent Henry and John discussed the proposition and John listened with the utmost respect to what his half-brother had to say.

‘Our father thinks that I should not become embroiled in politics,’ said Henry. ‘It might be a good plan to go to El Mahadia, particularly if there are good profits to be made.’

John enthusiastically agreed.

‘We have given a good account of ourselves at the joust,’ he said. ‘Why should we not do the same and reap some profit with it?’

‘Then let us go,’ cried Henry.

‘Together,’ echoed John.

‘We should return to England with all speed. We shall need to equip ourselves and that will take a little time.’

‘We could leave for England tomorrow.’