Jean Plaidy (9 page)

“I believe he must know by now.”

“My lady, what will he do…what will he say?”

“I wish I knew.”

“Shall we go back?”

“We must wait and see.”

“And will the king be very angry with my father?”

“Your father has been very angry with the king for some time.”

“Will they…go to war against each other?”

“I hope not…I pray not.” She set aside her dignity then and drew me against her, holding me tightly. “I do not know what will become of us, my child,” she said.

There was disquieting news from England where there was trouble in the north. It was known that there was increasing discord between the king and the Earl of Warwick. The north was for Warwick and there were always people spoiling for a fight.

I have often wondered why men are so eager to go to war, which frequently results in hardship and misery to so many. Can it be because their lives are so dull and war provided excitement? And for the rough soldiery there is, of course, the prospect of looting and gain.

However, there were some men in the north who could not wait and, no doubt believing that they would have the support of the Earl of Warwick, decided to start without him. First there was Robin of Holderness. That was not his real name but leaders of risings were apt to call themselves Robin. It was derived from Robin Hood and there was the implication that the object was to take from the rich to help the poor. So as this rebel came from Holderness, he was called Robin of that place.

Ironically enough, the revolt was suppressed by my uncle John, Earl of Northumberland who had from the beginning been firm in his support of the king. Poor Robin of Holderness paid for his impatience and folly by being deprived of his head.

But no sooner was this Robin dispatched than another and more important one arose. This was Robin of Redesdale. At first we were unsure of his identity. His object in rising was said to be a protest against heavy taxation and the power of the Woodvilles, who were intent on gaining wealth and power for themselves rather than doing good for the country.

It seemed from what we heard that Edward was not very concerned about these risings. The country had had only short periods of peace during his reign and he had always shown himself capable of dealing with these disturbances.

He had set out for the north in a rather leisurely manner and was convinced that Robin of Redesdale would soon go the way of that other Robin.

Then came a piece of disconcerting news. The identity of Robin of Redesdale was revealed and it was none other than Sir John Conyers, and the Conyers family were a branch—though only a minor one—of the House of Neville.

This was a revelation that must have sent a shock through the country. My father was unprepared for it; but he made a quick decision.

He must return to England.

         

With my mother and Isabel I went to Warwick Castle while my father with his followers rode to London, accompanied by the Duke of Clarence.

We were bewildered. We did not know what was happening. Isabel was most distressed: she complained that she had been torn from her husband so soon after they were married and she could not understand why this had been necessary.

None of us knew what it meant, but we did hear that the people had given our father and the Duke of Clarence a warm welcome. They believed that they had returned to England because there was trouble in the north, and between the Earl of Warwick and the king, the trouble would soon be dealt with. It was quite clear that they had no notion at this stage that there was such deep-rooted trouble between Edward and my father.

However, we were concerned with settling in and it was not very long after we returned when Isabel announced that she was pregnant.

She was delighted though somewhat apprehensive.

“George wants a son,” she said. “I am sure we shall have lots. Why look! We have not been married long and already one is on the way.”

My mother was delighted and there was little talk of anything else but the coming baby.

Isabel settled down to enjoy the fuss, which I think helped to compensate her for the loss of George.

Sometimes during those days I wondered what was happening and whether the king had made friends with my father and Clarence and whether they had put down the rising in the north. Occasionally there were visitors and they would bring a little news.

We allowed ourselves to believe that the relationship between the king and our family had returned to normal. True, the king could not have liked to hear of Clarence's marriage, since he had forbidden it, but it was done and the king was not one to hold grudges; he must be the most easy-going man in the kingdom, so therefore it was reasonable to suppose that all was now well. After all, that was what we wanted to believe.

Meanwhile Isabel had passed out of the first stages of pregnancy and her condition was becoming obvious. My mother was constantly supervising the ladies and we were all making clothes for the baby. We heard how Isabel and I had come into the world and what a blessing we had been; and the greatest joy a woman could have was to bear a child.

It was all very cozy and comforting and Isabel, being at the center of it, revelled in it.

Then certain items of news filtered through to us and they caused a shiver of alarm. Robin of Redesdale was proving to be no insignificant leader. He was surrounded by determined men and it was startling to learn that all the leaders of the expedition were connected with the House of Neville. There was my father's nephew, Sir Henry Fitzhugh, his cousin Henry Neville, and Robin himself, Sir John Conyers, who had married one of the Neville girls. Their main grievance was that the king had estranged the great lords of the land for the sake of the lowborn, insignificant Woodvilles, who had sought to rule to the country's detriment.

Isabel had lapsed into contentment and did not want to consider anything that might disrupt it. She was sure the king would accept her marriage. Considering the fortune she was bringing to her husband, how could the king complain about the daughter of Warwick not being a worthy match for his brother when he himself had married most unwisely a woman of no standing and fortune?

Each day she looked for Clarence's return. She wanted to talk to him about the baby.

So the weeks passed and after a while we were lulled into a sense of security, and then one day a company of men came riding to the castle. They had been with the army and they were Warwick men, for the badges of the Ragged Staff were prominently displayed.

It transpired that they were on the way to join my father's army and it was during supper when we sat at the big table with our mother that Isabel and I heard what was happening.

It was a terrible shock, for we realized that our father was at war against the king.

“It was at the Battle of Edgecot that the Earl of Pembroke was captured, my lady,” said the captain. “My lord Warwick was not present, but we met the victors at Northampton later. It was on the earl's orders that he lost his head.”

“Who lost his head?” asked my mother faintly.

“The Earl of Pembroke, my lady, and the Earl of Devon was killed.”

My mother was aghast. She knew that my father hated those men. They were his enemies and blatant adherents of the Woodvilles; they were of that clique that had surrounded the king and lured him away from the influence of Warwick.

There were greater shocks to come.

“So that was the end of Pembroke and his brother,” went on the captain. “But the real prize was Lord Rivers and his son, Sir John Woodville, and they were taken in Wales and beheaded at Kenilworth.”

“The queen's father and her brother!” cried my mother in dismay. “And on the earl's orders!”

“It is the Woodvilles this war is all about, my lady. What a prize that was!”

I had rarely seen my mother so distressed, although she made an effort to hide it from the guests.

I kept thinking about her and when she had retired for the night I went along to her chamber. She was on her knees in prayer and I stood for a moment in silence watching her.

She was aware of me but she did not turn around immediately. Then she said, “Anne, my daughter, what are you doing here?”

“Oh, my lady mother, you are very unhappy. I wanted to be with you.”

She stood up and I ran to her. She put her arms about me and held me close.

“I am afraid, Anne. What does this mean!”

I said slowly, “It means that my father is at war with the king.”

“They were killed on his orders. The queen is a hard woman. She loves her family. Everything she has done has been to promote them. She would destroy those who stand in her way…but to her own she gives everything. And they have killed her father…her brother…”

“I think, my lady, that she will want revenge.”

“What will become of us? My dearest daughter, what will become of everything?”

“My father is very strong, my lady. He will overcome all our enemies.”

“You are right, my child. Stay with me. Let us pray together.”

Events were taking a dramatic turn and I was no longer outside them looking on.

The change came one day when I was in one of the turrets and saw in the distance a large party of riders. They were, of course, coming to the castle. I ran down calling to my mother.

She was already aware of the arrival.

“Your father has come,” she said.

We were in the courtyard when my father rode up and there was someone riding with him, a tall regal figure. I stared. I could not be mistaken. No one else was as tall and commanding in appearance. It could only be the king.

He had dismounted, my father with him. My mother was about to kneel but the king put his hand on her shoulder and kissed her cheek.

“My lord…” began my mother.

“The king has come to visit us for a while,” said my father.

The king smiled and said what a pleasure it was to see the beautiful countess and her charming daughter. “I do not see my dear sister-in-law.”

“She is resting, my lord. Her condition.”

The king raised his eyebrows and said, “What good news! My brother is indeed a fortunate man.”

Preparations for the arrivals were already in progress. The servants always went into action at the first appearance of visitors.

My father led the king into the hall. That something strange was going on was apparent. There was about my father a certain triumphant air. And where were the king's attendants? But the king was smiling and affable, as though there was nothing unusual in arriving thus.

There was one chamber in the castle that was kept for royal visitors and here the king was installed. Through the castle there was that excitement that a royal visit always generated, but this was something different. Why had we not been warned?

It was some days before I realized that the king was my father's prisoner.

It was all so bewildering. We were in the dark, groping through it for understanding, and it was not until much later that I learned from Richard what had really happened. Richard spoke of it even then with great resentment.

The king had been marching northwards to quell the rebellion when news of the defeat at Edgecot reached him; and when the army knew what had happened they deserted in large numbers, with the result that the king found himself alone apart from a few friends—Richard among them.

They were at Olney when George Neville arrived.

“He did not come as an archbishop,” said Richard when he told me of this, “but in armor. I was with my brother and I feared what this meant, for I knew that my brother was conspiring with your father and had done so ever since he married your sister Isabel. I had a feeling that George meant Edward no good, for he had always been jealous of him and resentful because Edward was more gifted, and the elder. George Neville was very respectful to the king and asked him if he would join him and his brother in Coventry for the Earl of Warwick was anxious about the king's safety.

“My brother said, ‘Why is the earl so concerned for my safety when a short time ago he was fighting against me?' ‘Never against
you
, my lord,' said George Neville, ‘but against those who seek to destroy the realm.' I was so angry that I called out to my brother not to listen to the man. But you know how forgiving Edward is. If he has a fault, it is being too ready to forgive his enemies and to believe the best of them. Edward put his hand on my arm and said lovingly to me, ‘We are in their hands, brother. Just for this while.' And then he turned to the archbishop and said, ‘I see I am your prisoner. What do you ask of me?' ‘That you come with me to my brother,' answered the archbishop. And so we went to the Earl of Warwick.”

I told Richard how sad I had been when I had heard a garbled version of this. It was heartbreaking for me to think the friendship between our two families was over.

“I was with him,” went on Richard, “at the meeting with Warwick. I think your father was more embarrassed than my brother. The earl impressed on Edward that he wished him no harm and talked of his holding him for his own protection. That was not true. The earl had never forgiven him for marrying the queen. There were many of us who thought that was a mistake. But my brother is impulsive in his affections. He gives love without thought of gain. I suppose the marriage was good for him if not for others. It was her rapacious family that caused all the trouble. Oh, Anne, what mistakes have been made! It is true that your father helped to put Edward on the throne, but Edward is a king who will govern; he will not be led. And your father is a man who wants to rule through the king he has set up. It was doomed to fail.”