The Red Rose of Anjou (30 page)

Margaret considered she was publicly insulted, for it was stated that the government as managed by the Queen, the Duke of Somerset and their party had been an oppression and injustice to the country.

At Greenwich Margaret gave vent to her fury, but to what avail? The King was petitioned to appoint the Duke of York as Protector of the Realm and Henry agreed.

He could do nothing else, Margaret knew. York had him in his power. Oh, but one day...one day...

At least they had not made a prisoner of him. They continued to pay lip-service to him. They declared that he was the true t I King and that they had no wish but to serve him and the ^ I country.

Fools, to believe them, thought Margaret. There is one thing York wants and that is the crown.

Then she heard that she, with the Prince, was to go to Hertford where the King would join her. There were signs that his distressing malady was returning.

So he came to her to be nursed back to health. The arrow wound was not serious and was healing now. But he was ill, there was no doubt of that. He did not sink into a complete torpor as he had before. He would talk a little and read a good deal. But there was no doubt that his mind was failing.

‘There is nowhere he would rather be than in the Queen’s loving hands,’ said York.

So they were together; and she was touched by the sight of him. He was delighted to be with her and his son.

‘This is peace,’ he said.

LOVE DAY

Margaret had a strong purpose now. Revenge on her enemies. She was going to destroy those three men. York, Salisbury and Warwick. They were her enemies as Gloucester had never been, and she would not rest until she had had her revenge on them. This was something she could not do alone. She realized this. If the King lost his reason completely or died she would be desperately alone with a son to fight for and without adequate means to do so. She needed Henry, a sane Henry, but not too strong because he must be guided by her.

She was going to make the crown safe for her son.

Henry’s state of health gave her great cause for alarm. He must not be allowed to drift into that torpor which amounted to idiocy. She was prepared now. She would recall William Hately and together they would bring Henry back to health, for Hately’s sensible advice had worked wonders before and it still would, she was sure.

She sought to interest Henry in their child. The little boy was very useful. His charming ways enchanted all, and Margaret was more passionately devoted to him every day, loving him with all the fierceness of her nature. Nobody was going to take the crown away from him.

So she needed Henry, a live, sane Henry.

Once more she devoted her days to the care of these two. She discussed with William Hately the best course of action and because of Henry’s passionate love of music, on the doctor’s advice she sent her sheriffs out into the country to look for musicians. She thought young ones would interest the King because he so much enjoyed encouraging the young.

‘Go into the villages and hamlets,’ she said, ‘Search out boys with talent. Let them know that if they want to become musicians there is a place for them at Court. They will be paid good wages and will never want.’

When the boys began to arrive Henry showed an interest in them and their studies. He had always believed in teaching and bringing out the abilities of any who possessed them. There was J no doubt that this had been an excellent idea.

There were some who wanted to go into the Church. Henry had a special interest in these. He promised to advance them and did so, and took a great interest in their progress. Margaret moved to Greenwich to be nearer London—but not too near for the Londoners were ardent Yorkists, and she was anxious not to attract too much attention to herself and the King at this stage. It was important, she felt, to lull the Yorkists into a sense of security. Let them think they were in command. So they were, but not for long, she promised herself.

She rejoiced in Henry’s definite recovery, slow though it was: People were drifting to Greenwich. There were the sons of fathers who had been slain at St. Albans. They thirsted for revenge with a passion which almost matched Margaret’s. She encouraged them. One day it will be a different story, she told them in fervour. It will be for us to command them. And then it will be to the Tower in preparation for the scaffold for some.

York, Warwick and Salisbury, they haunted her dreams.

The day will come, she promised herself And then no mercy. She found pleasure in inventing torments for them. Henry would have been horrified if he knew what was in her mind. He had always been squeamish. Perhaps that was why he had all but lost his throne.

Never mind. He was a good and loving man. He would obey his wife. And then when her son was of age he would be a fine strong King, for she would bring him up to be just that.

In the meantime it was a matter of treading warily—which was very difficult for a woman of her temperament. But she was doing well.

In Greenwich they talked constantly of the day when they would be strong enough to defeat York.

‘We’ll have his head on London Bridge, never fear,’ said Margaret. ‘But not a word of this before the King. The King

is a saint. He would die himself rather than shed anyone’s blood. That is why he needs us...to help him govern.’

They were beginning to see in Margaret a leader. It was incongruous that this small woman with the dainty hands and the long fair hair and the eyes which flashed blue fire when she talked of what was in store for her enemies, should be the one to lead them. But such was the power of her resolution, such her eloquence, such her burning determination that they were beginning to accept her.

Henry the new Duke of Somerset had recovered from his wounds and was constantly at her side. She was going to put him in his father’s place as soon as possible. It was the least she could do for dear Edmund; but apart from that she loved the new Duke for himself. He was her ardent supporter and like her he thirsted for revenge.

There were three who were very welcome at Greenwich; Henry’s stepfather, Owen Tudor, and his half-brothers, Edmund and Jasper. Henry was always delighted to see them and would be happy recalling the days when he was a little boy and Owen Tudor had taught him to ride.

But the Tudors did not come merely to talk of old times with Henry. They were staunchly for the Lancastrian cause. They were strong men—all three of them, ready to face hardship, ready to risk their lives; and for the sake of Katherine, beloved wife to one and mother to the other two, they were firmly behind Henry.

They were pleasant days for Henry who was ignorant of the revengeful plans. He did not want to think of that fearful time in St. Albans. The wound on his neck had proved to be slight and he could not bear to think of poor dear Somerset lying dead under that inn sign. He never wanted to go near St. Albans again. He just wanted to forget the horrible sounds and sights of war.

Forsooth and forsooth,’ he muttered to himself. ‘Why do men make war when all know we are always better off without it?’

Let York be protector of the realm. Why not? It was what York wanted; it stopped war. A number of the people wanted it. They said York managed very well and as long as he went on doing so there need be no trouble. York had been most respectful to him and he had stressed the fact that he regarded him as the sole King of the realm. It was only because he needed to recover from his illness—which had been aggravated by events in St. Albans—that York was installed as Protector. It was only a temporary measure.

But Henry was very happy for it to continue.

So he listened to the music played by the boys who had been brought in to be taught and gently remonstrated with them when they did not play correctly. He loved to hear them and they loved to play for him.

Then there were those who wanted to go on pilgrimages to holy shrines. They came and discussed their projects with the King. He delighted to hear them. He himself would like to go on a pilgrimage.

‘That might be an excellent idea,’ said Margaret. They would travel through the country and the people would be delighted to see them, particularly if they had the little Prince with them—their gentle King who wished no ill to any and their charming Prince who could always captivate with his innocent manners. And her .. . well, they might not like her so much. There was a good deal of prejudice to overcome. But they must applaud her devotion to her family.

This was not the time though. Margaret had other plans...just at first.

‘When you are well enough,’ she told Henry, ‘we will make our pilgrimage.’

‘I feel well now,’ said Henry. ‘Well enough to make a short journey.’

‘We will see,’ said Margaret.

Not yet, she thought secretly. Not until the people can see you as their ruler. Not until York is no longer Protector. In a little while perhaps, but not yet.

The visitors continued to come. Margaret held her secret meetings and the King listened to his music, discussed possible pilgrimages, spent a great deal of time with his confessor, prayed and meditated.

Alchemists came to him who believed that they could discover the philosopher’s stone by which they could turn base metals into gold. ‘It would be a miraculous discovery,’ said Henry, thinking sadly of his depleted exchequer and how wonderful it would be if the country did not have to inflict such heavy taxation on its subjects.

He would visit the royal laboratories and spend hours with the alchemists. They arrived at Greenwich from all over the country. They were all on the verge of discovering the secret formula; but none of them ever found it.

And so the King’s days passed pleasantly, while the Queen gathered about her a formidable force.

The King’s health was greatly improved but he was easily tired and there was no doubt that the battle of St. Albans had had some effect on him. However he was well enough to take to the saddle; his mind was clear; and although he would never be robust, he was in good health.

The time had come, thought Margaret.

She did not discuss the next step with Henry. She wanted to present it to him as the considered opinion not only of herself but his friends.

Young Henry Beaufort, son of Edmund and now himself Duke of Somerset, was a bright young man of about nineteen or twenty. Understandably, he hated York with a venom equalling that of the Queen.

‘It is York’s contention that he is only Protector of the Realm during the King’s indisposition,’ said young Somerset. 'If the King is no longer indisposed there is now no need for York to hold that position. It seems, my lady, that all we have to do is announce that the King is well.’

Margaret was thoughtful. That was as it might be. But there would be fierce opposition, she knew. York, Warwick and Salisbury had gathered their troops and come to oppose Henry.

‘It was done with speed and shrewdness,’ she reminded them.

With the Lancastrian lords they discussed how the desired effect should be brought about. York was not in London at the time. He must be kept in the dark as to the King’s progress. If he knew that Henry was recovering he would be on the spot.

‘We must choose our time with care,’ said Owen Tudor.

Jasper thought that the King should go unexpectedly to one of the sessions of Parliament over which York and his immediate cronies did not preside, and make the announcement that he was now well and capable of taking over the government of the country.

‘It is the way,’ said Margaret. ‘Now we have to persuade the

That was not quite so easy. Henry enjoyed his life at Greenwich. He loved his music, his conversations with those who were almost as religious as himself; he loved the company of his son and he was grateful that he had a Queen who could care for him and keep unpleasant business away from him.

She reminded him gently that he was the son of a King; he had been a King since he was nine months old and the people wanted him. It was time now to take on his duties. She would be beside him, always ready to help him. He need have no fear.

It was a cold February day; the Duke of York was in the North and Warwick was in Calais for he had been given the important Governorship of that town when York had become Protector. As for the chief members of the York faction, they were all on their estates in various parts of the country.

The King rode up from Greenwich to Westminster, Margaret beside him.

He went into the House of Lords.

The assembled company, not knowing that he had left Greenwich, was astounded to see him enter thus ceremoniously.

The King stood before them, seeming in amazingly good health.

‘My lords,’ he said, as they had decided he should, ‘you see me, by the blessing of God, in good health. I do not think my kingdom now needs a Protector. I request your permission to resume the reins of government.’

The Lords rose as one and cheered him.

He was well. He was the King. It was his place to govern.

###

It had been completely successful. Margaret was gleeful. ‘You see, all we need is a firm hand. Our first act must be to notify the Duke of York that he is no longer Protector of this realm as it was unanimously agreed by the Lords that he cease to hold this office.’

Now they could get to work. York could do nothing. His men were scattered and the same applied to Salisbury. Warwick was in Calais so was not of immediate concern.

The Parliament had agreed that York’s services were no longer required. The King could not be turned out of his office. He claimed it. He was well now.

Henry was King again.

The King’s chief adviser should be the young Duke of Somerset. There were raised eyebrows at that. Henry Beaufort was loyal enough, but he lacked experience and his father could hardly have been called a success in the later years of his life. It was the conflict between York and Somerset which was at the root of the trouble. But Margaret, fierce in her loyalties, was scarcely shrewd in her judgment. She wanted to show this young man her compassion for the death of his beloved father;

she wanted to reward him for his friendship to her. Her emotions told her that this should be his reward; she did not pause to consider the wisdom of the move.