Epitaph for Three Women (11 page)

There was great excitement at Windsor when the messenger came back from Pontefract. The treaty between the Scots and English had been arranged.

The King of Scotland was to be free – after some twenty years – to return to his land. Sixty thousand marks would be paid for his release in instalments of ten thousand a year and hostages would have to be given to make sure there was no defaulting. All Scottish troops would quit France. That was promised and then the best clause of all: King James must marry an English lady of noble birth.

‘There are times,’ said Katherine when she heard the terms, ‘when it seems Heaven is on our side. There is your English lady, James. I do not think there will be the slightest reluctance on her part.’

It was a glorious ending to a happy romance.

Messengers arrived at Windsor. This time they had dispatches for the Queen.

The King must appear before his Parliament and his mother should bring him to London without delay.

‘Well,’ said Katherine, ‘I suppose it was too much to hope that we should be left long in peace.’

The summons could not be disobeyed and she and Henry with a great many attendants and much ceremony – which must always accompany the baby wherever he went – set out for London.

It was Saturday night when they reached the inn at Staines where they were to stay the night before they made their entry into London. On the Sunday morning they prepared to leave and crowds came out to watch them.

Henry was in a bad mood. The crowd no longer interested him. He screamed until his face was purple and all feared he would do himself some harm. He tried to throw himself from his mother’s arms and behaved in a manner so unlike his usual placid self that it was decided he should be returned to the inn. So the protesting child was taken back and there he lay all through that day in a fractious mood.

On the next day, being a Monday, they set out again. Henry was his old self, smiling, chuckling, showing an interest in all about him.

He will be very pious, prophesied the people. So young and already he shows his disapproval of travelling on a Sunday.

So at this early age Henry had already received his reputation for piety.

On Monday they arrived at Kingston and on Tuesday by degrees to Kennington and on the Wednesday he rode into London, sitting on his mother’s lap, and it seemed that all London had come out to see their adorable little King.

At Westminster he attended Parliament and was shown to the assembly there who were well pleased with his progress and it was decided that he should remain in his mother’s care for a little longer.

Katherine rested for a while at Eltham Palace and from there went on to her castle of Hertford. It was pleasant to be in her own castle for it had come to her as it had to the Queen of her father-in law and it would go in due course to baby Henry’s Queen when he had one, for it had been granted to John of Gaunt and thus had come to this side of the family.

She decided she would spend Christmas there and she sent word to James asking him if he would join her.

‘I have already asked Lady Jane Beaufort,’ she said. ‘I thought you and she might have a good deal to talk about.’

They accepted with grateful thanks.

She also asked that some of her personal guards come to Hertford and she made special mention that among them should be the squire Owen Tudor.

What a happy day that was in February of the following year when James the First of Scotland married Jane Beaufort, at the church of St Mary Overy in Southwark. Katherine insisted on being present for she felt she had played a prominent part in this romance and was overjoyed that it had worked out as it had. She could never have borne it if the lovers had been separated, but of course they would never have allowed that to happen.

It was a fairy-tale ending and when the decree had been announced that the King of Scotland must marry a noble English lady he had cried: ‘Right gladly and I have already chosen.’

There could of course be no objection to marriage with the noble Beauforts … royal themselves through John of Gaunt if they had made their entry into the world on the wrong side of the blanket. What mattered was that they had been legitimised afterwards and held high posts in the land. Moreover Jane was royal through her mother.

The Earl of Somerset was delighted with his daughter’s marriage and her uncle the Bishop of Winchester insisted that the banquet should take place in his palace close to the church.

It was a glorious occasion but nothing was more splendid, Katherine decided, than the happiness on the faces of the bride and groom.

The day after the wedding it was announced that ten thousand marks of the ransom were to be remitted as Jane’s dowry and the couple were then free to start their journey to Scotland. At Durham the hostages would have to be delivered into English hands but there seemed to be no difficulty about that.

A few weeks later Katherine said goodbye to her dear friends.

She knew that she was going to be very lonely without them, and when she rode to Hertford where she had decided to rest awhile, she selected Owen Tudor to ride beside her.

‘I shall miss them sorely,’ she told him. ‘But right glad I am to see their happiness. Does it not gladden the heart to see love like that, Owen Tudor?’

He answered quietly: ‘It does, my lady.’

‘That it should have turned out so neatly … that was what I liked. “You must marry a noble English lady,” they said, and there she is … already there. How fortunate they were, Owen; if you can call a man fortunate who has spent the greater part of his life a prisoner.’

‘He is finished with prison now, my lady.’

‘Yes, he gains his rightful place on his throne and his love with him. Do you not think love is the finest thing that can happen to a man and woman, Owen Tudor?’

‘I … I could not say, my lady.’

‘I can … and I will. It is, Owen Tudor. It
is!

Their eyes met and she felt a great happiness creeping over her.

‘They were able to marry,’ he said. ‘They are fortunate indeed.’

‘The happy ending,’ mused the Queen. ‘No … not the ending … Marriage is just the beginning. But they are together … and whatever may come it can be mastered … with a loved one to share it. You think I behave strangely … for a Queen?’ she added.

‘My lady, I think there never was such a Queen as you.’

She turned away. The love affair of James and Jane had affected her deeply. It had made her see what she never dared look at closely before.

Chapter IV

THE MARRIAGE OF BEDFORD

A
VERY
important ceremony was taking place in the town of Troyes. John, Duke of Bedford, Regent of France was being married to Anne of Burgundy, sister of the great Duke and such an alliance could not fail to raise speculation not only throughout France but in England as well. The English saw it as a master-stroke. Charles of France saw it as disastrous. The old Duke of Burgundy should never have been murdered on the bridge at Montereau. It was deeds like this which were the start of feuds that could go on through centuries; and France at the moment was in need of all the friends she could get. To have alienated Burgundy in such a way was a major disaster. And not only would France lose Burgundy’s friendship: England would gain it.

John himself was filled with complacency. Gloucester’s conduct had been enough to alienate Burgundy altogether. He flattered himself that he had warded that off by this brilliant stroke of genius. John was too shrewd not to realise that the Gloucester affair was not over yet. It would be a blow of great proportions if his brother was ever foolish enough to try to regain Hainault, Holland and Zealand. At the moment he was just a threat. Pray God, thought John, that it remains only that until I can stop the mad affair.

John was philosophical. Life had made him so. He realised that in such a hazardous position as he found himself he could take only one step at a time. This he intended to do. And it was a very clever and happy step he was taking now.

He glanced at Anne riding beside him. The ceremony was over and they were on their way to Paris where the Palace of the Tournelles had been made ready to receive them. Anne was young and beautiful; moreover she was good and gentle, even greater assets. She had placidly agreed to the marriage which showed that she did not regard him with disfavour, and he did not think her willingness had anything to do with politics. There seemed no valid reason why Anne should greatly wish for a friendship between Burgundy and England. So it seemed likely that she did not find his person displeasing.

He was handsome, they said. But did they not often say that of Princes? He had a finely arched nose and well defined chin but he was inclined to put on flesh and his skin was too highly coloured, perhaps the result of much exposure to weather. However he bore a resemblance to his brother Henry and he felt that was in his favour.

Anne was a good deal younger than he was, but that was often the case in marriages such as theirs.

As they rode towards Paris he wanted to reassure her that he would be a good and faithful husband to her.

He said to her: ‘There is some surprise concerning our marriage among the people.’

She answered: ‘It is to be expected.’

‘England and Burgundy … at such a time.’

‘My brother is no friend to Charles of France.’

‘One would not expect him to show friendship towards his father’s murderer.’

Her face was sad. It was tactless of him to have referred to the murder. After all, the victim had been Anne’s father also.

‘I am sorry,’ he said.

She looked at him with surprise.

‘I reminded you of your father,’ he explained. ‘It was tactless of me. It was a great blow to you to lose him.’

‘Murder is terrible. I wish there could be an end to bloodshed.’

‘There will be,’ he promised. ‘It shall be my aim to make France prosperous again and that can only be done through peace.’

She turned to smile at him and he felt a glow of pleasure. She was very beautiful and perhaps she could grow fond of him.

It was a happy man who rode into Paris. This was a great step forward. Married into the House of Burgundy to the sister of the Duke with a dowry of 150,000 golden crowns and the promise that if Philip should die without a male heir the county of Artois should be hers! And even if Philip should have an heir, Anne should have as compensation 1,000,000 golden crowns.

A good marriage. A magnificent dowry, a young and beautiful girl – and the greatest matter for rejoicing was the alliance with Burgundy.

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