The Red Rose of Anjou (20 page)

He seized her arm and their faces were close, glaring at each other.

‘Don’t you talk about your baby like that,’ she said.

‘That’s ripe, that is, from someone who a minute ago was talking of doing away with it. Besides, how do I know it is mine?’

Her eyes glinted at him. She looked murderous. Here was one he would have to handle very carefully.

‘It’s your baby and it’s mine,’ she said, ‘and it’s not going to be a bastard because I’m going straight to Lady Dacre tomorrow and she’ll make you see where your duty lies.’

‘You’ll not go to Lady Dacre.’

‘I will. I promise you. Jack Cade, I will.’

She would. Yes, there was no doubt of that. He gripped her arm and twisted it behind her. She continued to look at him in spite of the pain.

He released her suddenly and as she was about to run from him, he caught her. He shook her. ‘You’ll not go to Lady Dacre.’

‘I will,’ she cried. ‘I will. I will.’

It had all happened in a few moments. His hands were at her throat. She opened her mouth to protest and then was silent. Her eyes seemed to be coming out of their sockets; her face was growing purple...and suddenly she was silent.

When he released her she slid to the ground.

‘God help us,’ he ejaculated. ‘I have killed her.’

He stood still for a few seconds looking down at her. His problem was solved. Lady Dacre could not now force him to marry her.

He was a man who acted quickly. It was one of the reasons why he had come so far. He could bury the body. How long could that remain hidden? She would be missed. There were people who knew that he had been friendly with her. There might be some who knew she was carrying his child. If she disappeared they would wonder where. They might start making enquiries.

There was only one thing he could do. It was the very thing he had fought against. He must leave this profitable nest which he was feathering so lucratively and find some other outlet for his talents.

He hid the girl’s body in the shrubbery and crept back to the house. There he collected the money he had amassed, put his clothes into a knapsack and chose the opportunity to leave the house unseen.

The Dacre episode was over. He had to find fresh fields to conquer.

He made his way to the coast. He was making plans. He would go to Dover or Sandwich and wait there until he found a ship which was going to France. There were always ships going to France carrying troops and ammunition. He could join one of those and seek his fortune as a soldier of war. Soldiers were always welcome in this perpetual war against France.

It would be well for him to get out of the country for a while.

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He was right. It was not difficult to join a ship at Dover. As many men as possible were wanted to fight the French. He had taken the precaution of acquiring a tin box, putting most of the money he had amassed in it and burying it in a wood near the coast. So he crossed the sea and thought of that little incident back at the Dacre estate as closed.

It was a pity. It had been profitable but it would have been the end of ambition if he had been forced to marry and knowing Lady Dacre he was certain that would have been the outcome. It was a pity he had been driven to murder. But the girl had been a fool. It occurred to him that he could have got away like this without murder. However it was done and he was now putting it behind him.

It seemed a wise precaution to change his name. He had always liked to imagine he was of noble birth and he thought Mortimer was a good name. It had royal connections. He became Jack Mortimer and let it be believed that he was related to the Duke of York—on the wrong side of the blanket maybe, but the blood was there.

Free of servitude in the Dacre household he began to assume a certain air. He was careful not to overdo it, to learn gradually, to ape those of noble birth; and within a few months no one questioned his right to the name of Mortimer.

He began to be rather pleased at the manner in which life had changed for him. He did not dwell on the Dacre incident but he did occasionally wonder who had found the girl’s body. They would suspect him, of course, because he had fled and the girl was pregnant. Still, better to have fled than have stayed behind to face it. Doubtless if he had he would be hanging from a rope by now.

He had dreamed of sacking towns, acquiring great trophies as he did so, but the war was going badly for the English, and there was little booty to be found.

The army was proving less profitable than the Dacre household had been, so he decided that he would return to England. If he changed his name and settled in another part of the country, assuming a different personality, he would have nothing to fear.

He deserted from the army and decided to find some quiet village where he could set up as a physician. Why not? He had always been interested in the body and having talked to many quacks had learned the secrets of making lotions and potions.

Arriving in England, he first retrieved his fortune from the wood and made up his mind that he would stay in Kent. He found a suitable village and calling himself Aylmer practised there as a doctor. His charm of manner and his undoubted good looks soon made him popular and he was amazed how easily he slipped into his chosen profession.

Fortune smiled on him for in due course he was called in to attend the master of the manor house and the treatment was successful so the family there believed he was a very clever doctor. He was invited to dine and became a special friend of the young man of the house. He had certainly moved up in the social scale since his days as scullion to the Dacres.

As the months passed his connection with the gentry had an effect on him. He spoke like them, acted like them and as he was assiduous in his study of them and determination to be accepted, he passed unquestionably as one of them.

A Squire from Tandridge in Surrey was visiting at the Manor for a week or so and the doctor was invited to the house.

It so happened that the Squire had a beautiful daughter and no sooner had the self-styled Dr. Aylmer set eyes on her than he determined to marry her. What a different proposition from the little Dacre serving maid! He knew how to charm her and because he was considered to be a man of standing the Squire could see no reason why there could not be a marriage between the worthy doctor and his daughter.

The marriage was celebrated. There was a handsome dowry for the bride and Jack Cade began to think that the best thing that had happened to him was to murder a girl in a shrubbery.

If he had not he would still be there, perhaps married to her— which God forbid—or making a little money here and there. Ah, this was different. He had achieved an ambition. He had taken a big step up in the world.

He rather wished that he had kept the name of Mortimer. But perhaps he was wise to have changed. Such a name might have set people probing to discover his true origins.

For a year or so he lived quite contentedly with his new status, his new wife and the profession he had chosen. But there were one or two moments of uneasiness. One came with the arrival of a doctor friend of his wife’s father who visited them and naturally expected there to be a mutual interest in medicine. It was occasions like this—when Cade experienced great apprehension—when he realized he could be exposed. And if he were? What if he were traced back to the Dacre household in Sussex?

He was not quite so contented. Moreover his nature was such that he was always seeking for some higher place.

There was a great deal of murmuring throughout the country. Taxes were extortionate and Kent seemed to have been selected for even greater hardship.

Jack had always liked to hear himself speak. He had never been at a loss for words. He found himself holding forth on the subject; he was invited into people’s houses and he would talk there; and very soon people were coming to hear him speak. This delighted him. He was enchanted with his new role.

And when the Duke of Suffolk was murdered he declared that the King was hard on Kent because from Kent had come the ships which had intercepted him.

Memories of a certain Wat Tyler were revived. He had led the people to London in protest. He had failed, it was true, because King Richard had ridden him out to Smithfield and Blackheath and confronted the rebels, promising them all sorts of concessions which he had no intention of complying with. Wat was only a tyler. Jack Aylmer, Cade or Mortimer, whatever anyone liked to call him, was very different.

Wat Tyler had begun his insurrection when he had murdered a tax collector who had insulted his daughter. Well, Jack Cade’s adventure had begun with murder...of a different kind it was true, but there was a similarity.

But how different were these two men. Poor Wat was a humble tyler. Jack Cade was a man who had left his humble origins behind.

He knew something of politics. There was trouble in high places. The Queen was very unpopular. The King was weak. There was no heir to the throne and the Duke of York, though in Ireland, had a very strong claim. The House of York was ready to push the House of Lancaster from the throne.

And what of those who were in at the beginning to help? What of Jack Cade, Aylmer as he called himself? Why should he not take an active part in politics? It would be more interesting than administering to the sick in some remote country village.

Jack was impulsive by nature. He was soon preaching revolution.

‘Let us gather together, my friends. Let us go to see the King as others in Kent once did before us. They failed. They had not our foresight. Wat Tyler was their leader...a man of strength and purpose but a tyler of no education. It will be different with us. We shall set out in a different fashion. We have a leader who can talk to the King when he comes face to face with him. You will have a leader from the royal house itself Yes, my friends, my real name is Mortimer and I am a cousin of the Duke of York. We will work for my cousin. A strong man...a man more royal than the King for he is royal through his father and his mother. He will rule England and we will set aside this scholar with the French harlot who leads him in everything he does.’

It was fine inspiring talk and the people rallied to him. It was a new role for him, one he had secretly longed for. He was going to be a leader and when they succeeded and the Duke of York was on the throne he would be likely to remember all that he owed to the man who had begun it all.

By Whitsuntide they were ready to march, for Jack Cade had gathered together some twenty thousand men. They set out and reached Blackheath on the first day of June. There they encamped and staked the ground as though they were at war and expecting an attack, a trick Cade had learned during his experiences in France. They waited there, ready to march on London.

Meanwhile the King, hearing that rebels from Kent were encamped at Blackheath and remembering the story he had often heard of his ancestor Richard the Second, who as a boy faced the rebels and dispersed them, dissolved Parliament in Leicester where it was at that time and came with all speed to London.

He was not a young boy as Richard had been; he hated

bloodshed. He did not want to have to ride out with an army to subdue these people, so on his arrival in London he sent a deputation to Blackheath to learn the grievances which had brought the men to London.

Jack was prepared. They had heard that the whole of Kent was to be destroyed and made into a forest as reprisals for the death of Suffolk. The common people had not chosen the ships which had been sent to intercept the Duke. They knew nothing of such matters and would not suffer for them. The King surrounded himself with low men of whom the people did not approve whereas lords of his blood were put away from his presence. They were referring to the Duke of York who had been sent out to Ireland and with whom Cade wished to be allied. People were not paid for stuff and purveyance taken into the King’s household. Chiefly of course the people of Kent were incensed by the heavy taxation which was laid upon them. They wanted reforms. They also wanted the King to avoid the progeny of all those in sympathy with the Duke of Suffolk and take about his person the true lord that is York lately exiled by Suffolk, the Dukes of Buckingham, Exeter and Norfolk. They wanted those who had murdered the Duke of Gloucester punished. The duchies of Normandy, Gascony, Guienne, Anjou and Maine had been lost through traitors. All extortions of the common people must be stopped.

Henry listened to these complaints with close attention. He could understand that the people were angry because they had been heavily taxed but the accusations against Suffolk and his friends angered him. The chief of these had been the Queen and he could see in this criticisms of her.

He gave orders that all loyal servants of the King and country should unite against the rebels.

Knowing that if the King’s army came against them they would be defeated. Cade gave orders that they retreat to Sevenoaks. There they encamped while the King’s army advanced.

Henry made the mistake of sending out a small detachment under the Stafford brothers—Sir Humphrey and William. The result was triumph for the rebels. Both Staffords were slain and the rest of the detachment retreated to Blackheath where the King had his men.

Cade was delighted. He was proving himself to be a born leader. His force was well ordered; what he had learned in France stood him in good stead; he was a brilliant soldier. From the slain Sir Humphrey he took his spurs, his splendid armour, his brigandine of small plates and rings fastened by leather, his salade helmet which rested entirely on his head and was not attached to the rest of the body armour. The top had a crest which swept in a long tail at the back. Arrayed in these Jack felt the nobleman whom he had always longed to be.

The fine armour and his success elated Jack to such an extent that he believed himself to be a great leader. He saw himself rising to power and becoming chief adviser to the new King who would of course be the Duke of York, raised to the throne by the courage and brilliance of Jack Cade.

‘We are kinsmen,’ he could hear the Duke saying. ‘You shall be my chancellor.’