Epitaph for Three Women (20 page)

It seemed to them that there was nothing else to be done. They could not go on starving and holding out against desperate odds. They would offer then to surrender themselves to Burgundy.

Philip of Burgundy was by no means displeased. He would be happy to take Orléans, he declared, and the town should be surrendered to him.

But it was hardly to be expected that the Duke of Bedford would stand quietly by and see Burgundy walk into Orléans. Why should he agree to this when it was clear that the Orléannese were on the point of surrender? He and Burgundy were allies it was true, but uneasy ones. Burgundy was already too powerful. Why should he, Bedford, make him more so? When he thought of all the men, time and money he had wasted on this siege he was incensed.

‘Indeed this shall not be,’ he said. ‘I do not care to beat the bushes so that another may get the birds.’

Burgundy, all prepared to march into Orléans, was furious. He immediately withdrew his troops and there was a rift between the allies.

‘We will continue with the siege,’ said Bedford grimly, and the Orléannese were as stubborn as ever. They would go on enduring hardship rather than give way to the English.

Then even he became aware of the rumours in the air. He paid little heed to them. He had learned from his ancestors that leaders only believed in superstitions when they worked in their favour.

This one was set about by the French. And a lot of nonsense it was. He laughed to think of it for it showed how desperate they were to fabricate and circulate such stories in the vain hope of bringing comfort to a people who had had their fill of suffering.

There was a young maid, said these rumours. She had heard voices telling her that God had chosen her to save France.

John laughed aloud. Let them indulge in their fantasies. Poor things, perhaps it could bring a little comfort to their hungry bodies; their good sense must tell them that defeat was in sight.

A peasant girl indeed. A virgin. They stressed that. She was going to ride into battle and drive the English out of France.

He was surprised that the French allowed themselves to indulge in such superstition.

The weary siege continued but as the weeks passed the name of Joan of Arc was heard more and more frequently and even John, Duke of Bedford could not ignore it.

Katherine was at Hadham in Hertfordshire. It was quiet there and she could rest in peace and make plans.

She had sent for Dame Alice Butler and Joan Astley. They knew why before she told them. Dame Alice said she could see it in her face.

‘As you know,’ said Katherine, ‘I have taken a husband.’

They bowed their heads and waited.

‘Our union must of course remain secret … for the time. But now I find I am to have a child.’

‘We shall look after you, my lady.’

‘I knew you would,’ replied Katherine. ‘You loved my son so much. It is a pity these men see fit to take children from those who have nurtured and loved them.’

‘They will make a King of him before he is a child,’ said Dame Alice.

Joan nodded.

‘We must perforce keep quiet about this matter,’ went on the Queen, ‘until I know what the Council will do about it. I would not wish ill to befall my husband.’

The women understood well. Owen could be taken from her. He could be imprisoned for what he had done and being of humble birth his actions might be construed as treason. He might be sentenced to the traitor’s horrible death.

These women understood very well the delicacy of the situation; but their chief concern would be to bring the baby safely into the world.

Joan was handy with her needle and she was able to arrange Katherine’s garments so that her pregnancy was not as obvious as it would otherwise have been.

Katherine sent for her priest. She told him that she was going to take Owen Tudor for her husband and that she wished him to perform the ceremony without delay.

He was astounded and reluctant. Katherine was a Queen, and he could place himself in danger if he performed this ceremony.

He shook his head. ‘My lady, methinks you should inform the Duke of Gloucester of your intentions. If he is agreeable we can perform the ceremony without delay.’

‘I am with child,’ she said. ‘The ceremony must take place at once.’

The priest was horrified. He wanted none of this matter.

‘Are you a man of God?’ demanded the Queen. ‘Will you deny me marriage to the father of my child?’

The priest had no answer. She cajoled; she persuaded; she threatened; and when she pointed out that he was going against the laws of the Church by denying her marriage, at last he promised to perform the ceremony the next day.

Later that day one of her women came to her in a state of great agitation. It was a rumour she had heard.

It was said that the Duke of Gloucester had induced the Parliament to make a law prohibiting any person marrying the Queen Dowager or any lady of high degree without the consent of the King and his Council.

‘This cannot be true,’ she cried. ‘Why … after all this time? Why does he do it now?’

She did not need an answer to that question. It was because he knew.

But Gloucester could only have heard rumours of her liaison with Owen Tudor.

‘What will become of us?’ she cried in terror. But she was not one to give way to despair. Perhaps the horrors of her childhood had prepared her to fend for herself.

Gloucester or no Gloucester she was going to marry Owen Tudor. She was determined that her child would be born in wedlock.

Perhaps, she thought, it was better not to mention to the priest that there was this rumour about her marriage. If he married them in innocence he could not be held to blame. She would tell him that it should be a very secret affair. Only her immediate circle should know it had taken place. They would go on just as before. She would have her baby to care for and she would hope that Gloucester and his Council would lose interest in the mother of the little King.

The ceremony took place in an attic at Hadham and everyone present was sworn to secrecy. The priest asked permission to leave as soon as the marriage had been completed, which Katherine readily gave.

So she was married.

A few days later Gloucester’s new law forbidding her to marry without consent was passed and she was officially informed of it. What could she do? It was too late now.

‘Say nothing,’ she said. ‘These matters pass.’

She was now completely absorbed by her love for Owen and the imminent arrival of their child.

The Duke of Gloucester was a source of great irritation to the Council and it occurred to them that his power could be considerably diminished if the King were crowned. He would then no longer need a Protectorate. The King, though a boy, would rule in his own right. Thus the power of Gloucester could be curbed at one blow.

The Council were in unanimous agreement and on a clear and bright November day young Henry was brought to Westminster.

The Earl of Warwick led him to the high scaffold which had been set up in the Abbey and there he sat looking before him very solemnly, a little sad but conducting himself, as all agreed, with humility and devotion.

The crown was placed on his little head and he knew better now than to complain of its heaviness. He had already learned that although it was sometimes gratifying to be a King it had its drawbacks.

After he had been crowned he must go in procession to Westminster. There three Dukes walked before him carrying three swords which were symbolic of mercy, estate and empire, and Henry himself was led by two Bishops and six Earls with the Barons of the Cinque Ports carrying his pall and the Earl of Warwick his train. Judges, barons, knights and all the dignitaries of the city of London must attend.

The Bishop of Winchester – now a Cardinal – sat on his right hand at the feast and the new Chancellor, John Kemp, was on his other side. It was very formal and Henry was sorry for the Earls of Huntingdon and Stafford because they had to kneel beside him during the feast, one holding the sceptre and the other the sword of state – although he was uncomfortable enough himself in his heavy robes and crown.

And when he was seated and the hereditary champion rode in to challenge anyone who did not agree that Henry was the rightful King, the boy held his breath and looked about him anxiously wondering what would happen if anyone disputed that fact.

No one did and the feast began. Henry wished that he were back in Windsor talking to his mother while Dame Alice and Joan Astley served him with his simple food.

So he was crowned and he was most forcibly reminded that he was King of England.

His uncle Bedford sent messages from France.

He approved of the crowning of the King; he now wished him to be crowned King of France. That was very important. So no sooner had Henry come through one coronation than he was to prepare himself for another.

It was in an atmosphere of mystery that the little Tudor came into the world. It was impossible, of course, to keep his existence completely secret but only those in the household need know.

If visitors came they would not want to see the nurseries. The servants were loyal. They had to be if they would keep their positions and most of them were fond of the Queen.

Katherine had determined that it should all be achieved as comfortably as she could make it. And she did very well. Owen now continued with his duties as squire but he lived in the Queen’s apartments.

They were two happy parents with a baby son.

They discussed what he should be called; Owen suggested Edmund and as Katherine wished all the time to please Owen she agreed to it.

So little Edmund flourished and it was not long before Katherine was once more pregnant.

By that time the strange stories of a peasant girl were reaching England.

She was said to be a virgin endowed with commands from Heaven.

Katherine talked of her a little. She was mildly interested because the girl was French and said to come from Domrémy, a part she knew slightly.

But there was too much to interest her in her own household for her to give much thought to a strange story about a certain girl they were calling Joan of Arc.

Chapter IX