The Red Rose of Anjou (17 page)

Nothing could please Henry better. Now he would not be disturbed by the revolting things that would be done to those men. He grasped at the idea.

‘Let us free them,’ he said. ‘They have been punished enough by contemplating a terrible fate. Yes, let them go free. There was no plot. My uncle died of his years and the strain he had put on them by a life of debauchery.’

So they were freed. But that did not stop the rumours.

The people still adhered to the story that Gloucester had been murdered. He was the enemy of the Duke of Suffolk, and the Queen had shown that she hated him.

The Queen had helped plan the murder, they whispered, and if she had not actually carried it out she was as guilty as those who had.

So Margaret, who had ridden through the streets of London to the acclaim of the people and the waving of daisies, was now-branded ‘Adulteress. Murderess. And French!’

###

Margaret found it difficult to understand the change in the attitude of the people towards her. When she rode out she was greeted with sullen stares. They did not abuse her. They whispered as she passed by, and she looked in vain for the daisies.

Bewildered and hurt, she demanded of Alice: ‘Why do they blame me for Gloucester’s death?’

They will always blame someone.’ Alice consoled her. ‘They blame William, too.’

‘It is true that I hated him.’ said Margaret. ‘But others must have done so too.’

‘The people always look for scapegoats in high places,’ Alice reminded her.

‘It makes me unhappy and...uneasy.’

Yes, thought Alice, it should do that.

She said: ‘You will have to act very carefully now. You must not show your pleasure in his death.’

Margaret shrugged her shoulders. She found it very hard to hide her feelings and she could not but feel relieved by the death of Gloucester.

She went to Grafton to see the Cardinal. He would have advice to offer her.

She was horrified to find him in his bed. He looked very ill—far worse than when she had last seen him.

She felt she could not burden him with her troubles. In any case he seemed too ill to listen to them. He was pleased to see her though and she sat by his bedside and tried to be cheerful.

He must get better, she told him. She needed him.

‘You will do well,’ he said. ‘You will look after the King.’

Only once did he mention Gloucester. ‘That trouble-maker has gone,’ he said. ‘Well, it was a fitting end. Do you know I have been told that some have accused me of having a part in his death.’ His face creased into a smile. ‘You see me in no fit state to do murder.’

‘They will say anything...anything!’ cried Margaret vehemently.

‘Indeed it is so. But these things are quickly forgotten. They look round. "Who was Gloucester’s enemy?" they say. "Oh...the Cardinal." Everyone knew of the enmity between us. It had been there for years. I always saw what a menace he was to the crown, to England. A pity others did not see it also. His brother Bedford did. Well, he has gone now. He can make no more trouble here on earth. And you, dear child, forgive my temerity in speaking to my Queen thus, but you are to me a very dear child and I love you and have great faith in you. You can be exactly what our King needs. He loves you. Who would not? You must guide him always, dear lady. Care for the King always...He will need your care. He is surrounded by enemies...but the greatest of them is dead now. Take care of him...’

‘I will, I will,’ said Margaret fervently. ‘But you talk as though you are going to leave us. You are not. I forbid it. You will stay with us. I need you.’

‘God bless you,’ said the Cardinal.

She sat by his bed but she could see how tired he was. He tried to struggle up when she left but she would not have it. She bent over and kissed him.

‘I shall come to you again...soon,’ she said.

But she did not for within a few weeks the Cardinal was dead.

Her grief was great. She had lost her worst enemy she believed and so soon after her best friend.

###

Alice was very worried. She did not like the rumours which were circulating about Gloucester’s death. She spoke to her husband about it.

‘You worry unduly,’ he assured her. ‘Gloucester’s death is the best thing that could happen to us.’

‘Yes, it would have been if he had died without mystery.’

‘The mystery will be forgotten shortly. In the meantime there is much to gain. Gloucester was rich and what will happen to his estates? His wife, a captive suspected of plotting against the King’s life through witchcraft, can claim nothing. There will be his estates to dispose of We shall do not badly out of that, I promise you.’

I was not thinking of estates,’ said Alice.

‘As I said you worry yourself unduly. All will be well. Margaret will have some of the estates but we shall have our share.’

Alice shivered.

‘What is the matter with you?’

‘Nothing. If you say all is well, all is well.’

He looked at her seriously. He was very fond of Alice and had never regretted their marriage. She had given him two sons and a daughter and it had been a very successful union. She was wise, too, and she did communicate a certain element of her apprehension to him. He admitted it at length.

‘Gloucester was my enemy,’ he said, ‘and Gloucester was a fool.’

‘Exactly,’ replied Alice. ‘You know now what I have in mind.’

‘There will be another enemy...less foolish perhaps.’

Alice nodded. ‘And you know who that will be.’

Suffolk replied in one syllable: ‘York.’

‘He will not be so reckless or so foolish as Gloucester.’

‘If the King could get an heir that would make it less easy for York.’

‘York will still be there. There is a purpose in him. He will bide his time.’

‘But if the Queen produces a son the people will love the child. Margaret will regain some of the popularity she has lost.’

‘If she gets a child.’

‘Is there no sign then?’

‘None. She would tell me if there were. I know that she is impatient and frustrated because she does not seem to be able to conceive.’

‘A child will make such a difference. The people might even take to wearing daisies again.’

‘We must pray for a child.’

‘With fervour. We need that child. In the meantime don’t fret about York. He must bide his time.’

‘And he will,’ said Alice.

‘In the meantime there will be a child. There must...and why should there not be? They are both young and healthy. The King dotes on her and she is fond of the King. It will come. It is because they are over anxious that they fail.’

Alice laid her hand on his arm. ‘We must be watchful of York.’

Her husband nodded.

It was a few days later when he came back to her obviously in very high spirits.

‘News, my love,’ he said. ‘I think you will find it good.’

She looked at him expectantly.

‘York is to be banished to Ireland.’

‘Banished?’

‘Well, it is tantamount to that. He has been appointed to be the King’s Lieutenant there for ten years. That will put him out of the picture for a while.’

‘He must be furious.’

‘He is. But what can he do? He cannot say: I want to stay in England and make an attempt on the crown, now can he? He must submit with a good grace. I have an idea that he will delay his departure for as long as he can. Never mind. He must go to Ireland.’

‘Henry agreed?’

‘I only had to tell him it was a good thing and Margaret helped as I had previously explained everything to her.’

‘It seems that one must go to the Queen before the King.’

‘Well, that is true. Margaret means to rule, and Henry is only too pleased to let someone else take over the role that he never really wanted.’

‘It is very good news indeed.’

‘There is more to come. There are some weighty titles coming our way. I already have the Earldom of Pembroke.’

‘From Gloucester’s estate?’ added Alice quietly.

‘Well, yes, and not only that but Chamberlain and Constable of Dover and Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports. I am to be Admiral of England as well. What do you think of that?’

‘I am overwhelmed and so must you be with so many honours.’

‘And in addition, my lady Marchioness, how would you like to become a Duchess?’

‘So...that as well.’

‘Behold the Duke of Suffolk.’

‘The King must be very pleased with you. He must love you well.’

‘The King,’ said the new Duke of Suffolk, ‘and the Queen as well.’

NICHOLAS OF THE TOWER

Henry was happier than he had ever been. He was delighted with his marriage. He believed he was surrounded by good ministers headed by the Duke of Suffolk, but he was grieved that his great-uncle the Cardinal had died. That had been a sadness and Margaret had felt it deeply. She had dearly loved the old man and she was very touched that he had left her all the fine scarlet damask and the bed which he had had made especially for her on her visits to Grafton.

‘I shall always treasure them,’ she said, but she wept bitterly and was sad every time she saw them.

She was recovering from her grief though, and she was interested in Henry’s plans for building. They visited the work frequently. He had enjoyed showing Margaret the College of the Blessed Mary of Eton beside Windsor. He had explained to her how interesting it had been studying the plans for the building and what a boon it would be to scholars. They would go on from the college to the one he was building at Cambridge. He was going to call it College Royal or King’s College to Our Lady and St. Nicholas.

Margaret was very interested. She said she would very much like to found a college herself.

Indeed she should, said Henry, and he thought how much pleasanter this was than the perpetual negotiations and plans for war.

Together they went to Cambridge and there Margaret met a certain Andrew Doket who was the rector of St. Botolph's there. He was very gratified by the interest of the King and Queen because he had already laid the foundation stones and he was seeking help in bringing about the building of a college. It was his greatest ambition but a lack of funds was a tremendous handicap to progress, but in view of royal interest his hopes were soaring and since Margaret wished to found a college why should she not work in conjunction with Doket?

He had intended to call the college The College of St. Bernard as before he had become rector of St. Botolph’s he had been the principal of the St. Bernard Hostel. But he was ready enough to change the name in order to get the college built and it was decided that it should be called Queen’s College of St. Margaret and St. Bernard.

Thus Margaret had a project to equal that of the King and they spent many happy hours glowing with enthusiasm, discussing plans and visiting sites. They had literature in common too. Margaret was very fond of Boccaccio’s work and she and Henry read this together. Then there was the hunt to occupy her. Henry did not follow her quite so enthusiastically in this but Margaret loved to ride for after a few hours over her books she found the chase invigorating. She loved to ride ahead of the rest of the party, to be the first in at the kill. That was something Henry liked to avoid, for bloodshed, even of animals, was abhorrent to him.

When Margaret discovered that certain of the courtiers had been hunting in the royal forest she immediately gave orders that the game should be preserved absolutely for her use. Henry had never given such orders and the fact that Margaret did so without consulting him indicated her imperious nature. Why should she have consulted Henry? she would have asked. He would agree to give her what she wanted. And that was the truth. Henry was living in a state of blissful happiness. He had a beautiful Queen whom he loved and who loved him. The foolish war with France was petering out. He had made peace by his marriage and Margaret and he with their books and music and founding their colleges were happy.

They had no child as yet and that was a source of regret; but it would come. Margaret was very young and he was not old.

When their child was born, they would have reached perfection.

He deeply regretted the death of the Cardinal but then as though to balance that, Gloucester was dead also. York was to go to Ireland—although he was taking a long time to set out. Everything could be safely left in the capable hands of the Duke of Suffolk and Henry need only concern himself with his happy life.

And it
was
a happy time. He and Margaret made a tour of the country’s monasteries. They went to the Austin Friary at Lynn and as far north as Durham.

In the midst of all these mutual pleasures Margaret received letters from France; among them was one from her father. There had been great delays, he complained, and he begged her for the good of England, he said, as well as for that of France, to urge the surrender of Maine to the King of France.

Margaret thought of the matter a great deal. She knew that the English were clinging to Maine as one of the most important of their possessions in France. They should give it up. It belonged to France and if it were returned to that country her father would profit, for it would be restored to the House of Anjou.

She wrote to her father. I will do your pleasure as much as lies in my power as I have done already.’

She and Henry had had a happy day. They had been to the colleges and had indulged in a little friendly rivalry which delighted Henry.

She was so amiable, so amusing and so very beautiful. He was singularly blessed in his marriage, he told himself.

When they were in their apartment she sat at his feet with a book on her lap. She would read aloud to him; but after reading for a while she laid aside the book and said: ‘Oh, I wish we could have absolute peace. I think if I could have a child and peace between our countries I would know perfect happiness.’

‘The child will come,’ said Henry. ‘And peace...well, there is no active war at this time.’

‘We have a truce!’ she cried. ‘What is a truce? It means that war can break out at any moment.’

‘Yes,’ he agreed solemnly.

‘And it could be ended at once.’