Queen of Trial and Sorrow (7 page)

What more could I want?  Perhaps a child in my womb, a son to supplant this petty princeling.  I smiled stiffly.  “I thank your Grace for the courtesy.  I assure you I am quite comfortable.”

“It must be very strange for you – ” and now the mockery was ladled on “ – to rise from humble beginnings to such a prominent place, but rest assured we shall do our best to make you feel at home among us.”

“How kind you are.  And you may be assured that I will always hold your Grace in the highest regard and affection as my dear brother-in-law,” I said, ladling on the condescension. 

“Enough chit-chat,” Warwick barked.  “Shall we get on with it?”  As I was to learn, his usual speaking voice was close to a bellow.

A procession formed behind us, which included my two sisters and two other ladies who had been appointed to serve me while I was at Reading.  I rested one cold hand on that of the Duke of Clarence, the other on the hand of the Earl of Warwick, and hoped that my nervousness was not thereby communicated to them.   There was no further conversation between us as I was led to where the king was waiting to receive me in the chapel.  I was still terribly nervous, and afraid of conveying it through my hands to the wrists under mine.  I reminded myself of what Edward had said: When I gave a man my hand I did him honor. 

Ahead, on each side of a central aisle the nobles and prelates were gathered in small groups.  Lord Hastings, the Lord Chamberlain, banged his staff on the pavement.  “Her Grace, Queen Elizabeth!”

Conversation died away to utter silence.  Caps came off, heads bowed to the lowborn woman who was now their queen.  You might suppose beauty, if not my new status to which I had not yet adjusted, would bring its own assurance, and often it did but not in that august company.  As they straightened I could feel their eyes on me, gleaming and feral, a prickle on my skin.  A murmur of conversation started up behind me like the sea closing behind a ship.  I could hear their whispers, like the winged rustle of bats among the arches of the cavernous roof. 
One can see at once why Edward is so smitten… Withheld her favors until he agreed to wed her…  Rivers’ daughter… A scandalous pair… Low-born… A widow, can you believe..? Two sons, I hear…

I took heart from the presence of my husband, sitting in a chair of state, embellished with gold and canopied with the leopards of England and the
fleur de lys
of France.  He was wearing burgundy brocaded velvet, faced and slashed with cloth of gold.  He was so beautiful, so noble, a god among mere mortals.  Beside him was another chair, also carved and canopied.  That was for me.  The queen’s chair. 

The king had eyes for none but me.  I curtsied before him.  Raising me up, he kissed my fingers and smiled into my eyes as if to say: There, that’s the first hurdle over and you didn’t stumble.

A herald shouted the names of those present, who came forward in order of precedence to kiss my hand and murmur some courtesy if they felt so inclined.  The king smiled, well pleased, and exchanged words here and there.  I could not smile; I found the whole procedure harrowing. 
   

Finally the plague had abated sufficient that the king was able to return to his palace.  Westminster, just outside London, was not only the monarch’s principal residence, but also the administrative, judicial and political center of England.  I was no stranger to Westminster, but now with my mother I wandered its halls and chambers with a proprietary eye. 

We paused to admire a huge genealogical table, a propaganda tool and a piece of art all rolled into one fabulous twenty-foot long pictorial exposition of Edward’s right to occupy England’s throne.

My mother said quietly: “That’s the trouble with taking a throne already occupied.  He has to expend a great deal of time and effort proving he is not a usurper.”

Henry IV had faced the same problem, but he was luckier as Richard II had already been persuaded to abdicate by the time he was crowned and didn’t live very long afterwards.  Edward had a rival some still called king.

But he had a genuine and indisputable right to the throne on two points.  First, he was directly descended from the second and fourth sons of the prolific Edward III, while Henry VI was descended from the third son.  It was Henry’s grandfather, Henry IV, who was the usurper.  Second, in order to put an end to the escalating strife, in 1460 parliament had passed a law that Henry should remain king during his lifetime, providing no attempt be made on the life of the Duke of York, who would succeed him, with his sons following.  Well, killing York in battle certainly qualified as making an attempt on his life, so Edward was rightfully king. 

Before he even moved into the palace he gave his own apartments a thorough and modern refurbishment, as well as some of the other public rooms.  White Roses and Suns-in-Splendor were carved, chiselled and painted everywhere the eye rested.  Margaret’s Daisy and Henry’s Foxtails were obliterated. 

I had chosen the gillyflower as my own device, symbolizing the Virgin, virtuous love and marriage.  It was a great pity that I couldn’t have it incorporated into the stone and wood, but I intended to have my ladies include it in their embroidery work. 

The queen’s apartment consisted of a sumptuous bedchamber, a solar with three tall mullioned windows, recessed and with a seat strewn with bright cushions, and a southern aspect overlooking the gardens and the river beyond; two antechambers, one of which was the guarderobe where some of my robes would be kept, for the smell of the privy kept away moths.  In the solar an upholstered chair stood beside the fireplace and there were many settles and stools for my attendants, tables whose polished surfaces winked in the light, thick carpets on the floor, brilliant murals on the walls.  In one corner, to my delight, stood a wooden tub lined with linen and a screen of tapestry that could be drawn around it.  Although warmed water had to be carried all the way from the kitchens, a simple trap could be opened to allow the used water to flow through a pipe and flush out the privy.  The hooded fireplace was of Purbeck marble and a fire burned in the grate.  Intermittent sunshine falling on the floor in long rectangles further warmed the two principal chambers.

I ran my hand lovingly over the pieces of furniture, the velvet softness of the tester and drapes of the bed.  These chambers had once belonged to Margaret of Anjou, and I could still see her there, imperious and tempestuous, throwing things and kicking things and slapping her women if they were careless or simply because she was in a foul mood.  She had forfeited them and now they were mine.  Although the huge bed was the same, the coverings and drapes had been changed.   The tester was peppered with white roses and the drapes of mossy green were suspended from rails by iron rings and trimmed with gold cord and tassels.  On the underside of the canopy fat naked cupids disported themselves in sylvan splendor. 
Mine!
It was all mine.  I would never be poor again.  No one would ever be able to snatch all this away from me.  I was now in a position to help my family and advance my sons and the thought gave me great pleasure.  

Outside, sumptermen were unloading my belongings from wagons and heaving them in.  My ladies were bending over my trunks; out came gowns, shoes, cloaks, hose, headdresses, nightwear, petticoats, girdles, all the articles of personal grooming no lady could do without, as well as books, a coffer of jewels and another of letters, which were scattered over every available surface.  In Reading I’d had two new gowns quickly made.  The king had said I should order at least a dozen, and more later, for was I not a symbol of England’s wealth and greatness?  But before so indulging myself I wanted to speak to the ladies of the court to find the best dressmaker and discover the latest styles.  My sister Mary said I should set the style; whatever I wore would be slavishly imitated.  Lady Vaughan told us that in the reign of Charles VII, late king of France, his mistress introduced a new fashion at court that bared one breast, and there had been no shortage of imitators!  Henry would have had an apoplexy, but my husband would have liked it too well! 

I was regarding a tapestry featuring a shepherdess when my own Sun of York strolled in with his gentlemen at his heels. Reading my look, he said:  “If you don’t like it I can have it taken down.”

“I don’t like it.”

“Would you prefer the martyrdom of St. Sebastian or the Turks at the siege of Constantinople?”

“Do you have something with no blood in it?”

“Scenes of bucolic tranquility.  Like this one.   Do you like your chambers?”

“They are very fine.”

“But not good enough for you.  I’m going to build you a great chamber, somewhere for you to entertain important guests.  I’ve already drawn up plans.  I’ll show them to you later.  If they have your approval we’ll begin the work next year.”

He was so good to me.  I was deeply touched that he planned such a project when he was so severely impoverished.

……….

“I think you should consider Sir John Scott as your master of the horse,” Edward said, poring over my lists.  “I owe him an office, and what he doesn’t know about horses isn’t worth knowing.  He keeps a superb stud down in Kent.”

Usually I accepted his suggestions without argument, but this time I protested.  “Oh, but I wanted that post for my brother John.”

“Your brother is how old?”

“Fifteen, the same age as your brother – the lieutenant of Ireland.”

“Touche, my love.  You’re too clever for me.”

“But you do understand that I must do all I can to help my poor brother?  He hasn’t two silver pennies to rub together and you may imagine how expensive living at court can be for someone like him.  As the brother-in-law of the king, it is essential that he maintain a certain state.  Don’t you agree?”

It was a winning point.  Edward believed that everyone and everything about the king either enhanced or detracted from the royal dignity.  It wouldn’t do at all for his brother-in-law to be seen wearing darned hose, or a doublet that had been cut down to size, so he had to concede my wisdom in giving my brother some gainful employment along with a salary of forty pounds a year.

The king and queen maintained separate households.  Only a little smaller than Edward’s, mine when it was finally assembled numbered almost two hundred persons.  The business kept me happily occupied during my first months at Westminster. I took great pleasure in gathering my household, with the help of my mother who waited on me every day, armed to the teeth with sensible advice.  One of my first appointees was my chamberlain, Lord Berners, the younger brother of the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Earl of Essex.  My sister Anne and Elizabeth Scales, Anthony’s wife, became my chief ladies-in-waiting.  I chose eight ladies-in-waiting who served me on a rotating basis, returning home to husbands meantime.  I also had eight maids of honor, young girls of good family who would come to court to polish their social skills and to look for husbands.  Competition was fierce, even ruthless.  They were replaced when they married.  Naturally, being in a strange new world I wanted to be surrounded by people who were dear and familiar, but when Edward reviewed my list, he shook his head at the number of sisters and cousins on it.  “You can’t exclude the noble and gentle ladies of the realm without giving offence.”  So a Howard was substituted, a Bourchier, a Courteney, a Stafford and others. 

Given the extent of his indebtedness, I could not deny that Edward was as generous with me as was possible in the circumstances.  Permanent provision was made for me when the council granted me lands worth four thousand, five hundred pounds a year, which was less than Margaret of Anjou had enjoyed in her last years, but far more than I had ever anticipated.  Edward also settled on me the palaces of Shene and Greenwich in the Thames valley.

As queen, everything was done for me.  I no longer had to dress, wash or bathe myself.  If I wanted a book it was handed to me, and someone would read aloud for me if I so wished.  People knelt to me; even duchesses must curtsy.  Common servants weren’t allowed to approach me, but took instruction from my ladies. There were degrees of propinquity.  Only certain of my ladies had the right to receive my belongings from me, clothes for example, and they then passed them along to certain other ladies whose task it was to put them away.  Every day I was obliged to negotiate a mind-boggling maze of protocol and ceremonial even in the privacy of my own chambers.

As with the king, there was always a crowd of petitioners at my door and courtiers begging to wait on me, hoping for an opportunity to do a small courtesy that would make them memorable should they ever be in need of a favor.  They were always in need of favors; they were like well-dressed beggars, these people, unctuous in the extreme, almost groveling.

Word quickly spread among the city merchants that I was in need of almost everything, from gowns to soap, from jewels to sealing wax, and every day I welcomed a queue of them and their wares in my apartment, and my ladies and I would examine each article with meticulous care and discuss its merits, and I would bargain for some and sigh over the rest and send them away.  Every day, it seemed, Master John Forster, my treasurer, would come to me and say: Now, Madam, what is this?  Or: Madam, I doubt the king would approve… And although there was the occasional gentle reproach from Edward himself, without much force behind it, at least he didn’t go so far as the Duke of Exeter who had limited his lady to six pieces of firewood per day for her chamber even in winter.  I saw little of his self-professed niggardliness.  He wanted me to look regal and understood, of course, that the establishment of a new household was bound to be expensive.

After that first year, with its unusual expenses, I ran my household so judiciously that I was never in arrears by more than two hundred pounds.  A thing that made the king very glad!

……….

The one Christmas I had spent at King Henry’s court was an occasion of great solemnity.  Henry did not encourage dancing or any kind of foolery, although he did allow singing and pageants provided they had a religious theme.  My first Christmas at Eltham Palace, Edward’s preferred venue, was a mixture of solemnity and merrymaking, a time both sacred and profane: of choirs and carol-singing and nativity plays, along with sumptuous feasts and revels, where the Master of Misrule held sway, riotous games and gift-giving.

The great hall was hung with brightly colored tapestries, banners of the house of York, drapes of cloth of gold.  The great Yule log burned in the hearth; it would be consumed over the twelve days and required a great deal of fuel to keep it burning.  The heat drew a pleasant resinous smell from the pine boughs that were hung over windows and doors.  Bright red holly berries peeped out from between glistening leaves.  The chimney drew sweetly and only the best beeswax candles glowed in sconces and candelabra, allowing the guests to breathe air free of smoke from both fire and tallow.

The tables were laid with cloths of pristine white linen.  At the high table the plate was of gold, the cups winking with jewels and there were forks with crystal handles for everyone.  On the lower tables the food was served onto trenchers of stale bread.  A huge mound of fruit also graced the high table, some of it native grown and preserved in cold cellars and some imported: oranges, lemons, figs, pomegranates and lustrous fat grapes.

There were three courses, each with between fifteen and twenty dishes, carried in on huge platters, and included such rare and exotic choices as porpoise, roe and larks’ tongues, although those on the lower end of the social scale were offered fewer and plainer dishes.  Even the food arrived with a great deal of ceremony.  Each new course was announced by a flourish of trumpets and accompanied into the hall by the steward and butler on horseback and some of the other lords on foot.  Some of the dishes were so gorgeously presented they won applause from the guests.  There was a suckling pig lying on a bed of baked apples and grapes, which would go only to the high table, haunches of beef and venison dripping aromatic juices, game birds baked under golden pastry crusts, stuffed goose, huge tureens of a creamy soup flavored with expensive saffron, cheeses, custard tarts, delicate wafers, bowls made of half an orange rind sugared and filled with an almond paste and raisins, and an amazing depiction made of sugar of the stable in Bethlehem and its occupants.  Nothing was pickled, dried or salted.  The meats were carved into smaller portions and distributed among the tables, along with sauces in saucers.  After each course, pages entered with basins and ewers of warm scented water so that everyone could wash their hands.