Epitaph for Three Women (53 page)

She took a chain from her neck. ‘Take that. I will pay for what you need.’

‘My lady, I will give up everything to work on this.’

He was working on it. But he could go no further. She was going to be Queen, he said. The powers, however cajoled, would tell no more than that.

He would consult with a man he knew – that was if Eleanor was agreeable to bring another into the case. She must be warned that his services would be costly.

Impatiently she shrugged her shoulders.

‘Spare nothing,’ she said. ‘I want to know how this can come about.’

Thus she met Thomas Southwell who brought a further respectability into the proceedings because he was a canon of St Stephen’s, Westminster.

He confirmed Roger Bolingbroke’s prophecy that Eleanor would be the Queen of England. But he said it would not come about easily.

What did they mean by that?

‘There is someone in the way, my lady,’ said Thomas Southwell.

‘But if it is ordained that I am to be Queen he will be removed, surely?’

The two men looked at each other. It was not quite as easy as that. It was true that Roger had seen her in her regalia being crowned at the Abbey, but now that his vision had cleared it was made known to these seers that the brilliant destiny could only be reached if the lady had the courage to surmount a certain obstruction. Someone stood in the way. The King.

‘I did not need to spend a fortune to discover that,’ retorted Eleanor coldly.

The men were alert. She was getting impatient.

‘The King has to be removed before he marries,’ said Thomas Southwell. ‘It can be done. Margery has special skills in this art. She should be called back.’

‘Margery has been working on it for years and nothing has happened.’

‘Margery has never worked with us.’

So the two wise men and the wise woman came together and Margery made an image of the King which she said would take her a few weeks because it was not merely constructing it in wax which had to be done but life had to be breathed into it. She had to repeat incantations over it every night. It must be done in accordance with the laws of witchcraft otherwise it would be useless.

‘And when it is done?’ asked Eleanor.

‘It shall then be placed in a warm spot near a fire but not too near, and there it shall be left until the wax melts … But that must be gradual. Then as it melts, so shall the King’s life ebb away.’

‘We have tried it already.’

‘Not with us,’ said Roger Bolingbroke.

She believed them. She knew that Roger had a good practice near St Paul’s, that people of the Court visited him in secret and the fact that a canon of the Church was with them ensured success.

Eleanor waited.

Humphrey rode through the city towards Westminster. The people cheered him and that was a comfort. Strangely enough he had retained his popularity in spite of his failures. The people seemed to like some people and forgive them a good deal. They had never liked the Cardinal. They still thought of him as ‘Bastard’. It amazed Humphrey often how the most humble people attached such importance to birth and despised those who, although far above themselves, were not of the highest.

He was growing a little tired of all the conflict, but his feud with his uncle Cardinal could still arouse fighting excitement in him; he could see though that the Council was swaying towards Beaufort. Perhaps in time the people would.

He had squandered men and money in Jacqueline’s cause; he had married beneath him – not that he regretted that. Eleanor had been worth it. She could still please him, which was amazing considering how jaded he was. And she was loyal to him – or was that to herself? As he rose she had risen with him.

Oh, he was tired. He would go to the palace and there shut himself in with a new book which had just been sent to him. He was interested in the author and if he thought the book worthy he would arrange a pension for him.

He could hear shouting in the streets. Outside a house a crowd had assembled and guards were arresting a man.

Some malefactor, he thought. I wonder what his offence is?

The man was dressed in black – a strange-looking creature. ‘Who is he?’ he asked one of his attendants.

‘My lord, it is the soothsayer, Roger Bolingbroke. It has been said for a long time that he deals in black magic.’

‘Another of them. There are too many witches and such like in the country.’

He rode on to Westminster.

Eleanor was delighted to see him. They embraced warmly. Later she asked about the health of the King.

‘Never very robust,’ said the Duke. ‘It often amazes me that my brother should beget such a son.’

‘Not so well as normal, then?’ she asked.

‘Oh … he always looks sickly to me.’

She was exultant. It is working, she thought. Very slowly the wax was melting. When it had disappeared completely the King would be dead.

‘You had a good journey, my love?’

‘Oh fair enough. The people of London cheered me.’

‘Bless them. They have always been loyal to you. I set my trust in the people of London.’

‘I saw a fellow being arrested near St Paul’s.’

‘Oh?’ She was not interested. She was thinking of the slowly melting wax figure.

‘Some sort of witch. It’s time we looked into their activities a little more. Perhaps this is a sign.’

A sudden fear touched the Duchess.

‘A sort of witch … a man, did you say?’

‘They’re as bad as the women. This one looked the part. He was all in black … looked like the Devil himself.’

‘Oh … near St Paul’s you say?’

‘Yes, I think I’ve heard his name mentioned before. Seems to be quite a fashionable sort of rogue. It was Bolingbroke – Roger Bolingbroke.’

The Duchess felt a little faint. She steadied herself by taking his arm.

‘Are you all right, my love?’

‘I’m all right, Humphrey.’

‘Are you …’

No, she thought angrily, not pregnant. And Roger arrested. What does this mean?

She was soon to find out. The whole Court was talking of it. The arrest and questioning of Roger Bolingbroke had led to his accomplice Thomas Southwell being brought in, and they had had some connection with Margery Jourdemayne the Witch of Eye who had faced charges at Windsor some years before and owing to the dark powers she possessed had somehow escaped conviction.

The interest was growing. The houses of the prisoners had been searched and there was an upsurge of interest when a halfmelted figure of the King was discovered.

‘You can be sure,’ was the comment, ‘that people in high places are concerned with this.’

It seemed possible, for why should men in the position of these two, and a poor old woman of Eye, risk their lives to replace one King with another?

Passions were rising. This was not merely the discovery of another witch. This was witchcraft with treason.

The Duke of Gloucester was very uneasy. As the next in line for the throne he felt eyes were turned to him. He was afraid to raise the subject with Eleanor for a terrible suspicion had come to him.

As for Eleanor she was in a state of great anxiety. They must not mention her. She must not be involved in this. But if they decided to put the men and Margery to the torture what would they divulge?

They were not brave men, either of them. They were clerks, minor prelates … growing rich on practising the black arts.

And Margery, she had been in trouble before. How would she stand up to questioning? She had been ready to serve her Duchess assiduously … but that was when she was being paid.

Anxious days followed and when the two men and the Witch of Eye were found guilty of practising witchcraft and of treason no one was surprised.

It was a Sunday in July, hot and sultry. Bolingbroke was to be present at St Paul’s Cross where a stage had been set up. There he was to confess to the vast crowd which had gathered that he had practised the black arts. He now fully repented of his sins and was ready to pay whatever penalty was demanded of him.

Eleanor would have liked to be there but she dared not. She knew that Humphrey felt the same. He was not with her. He avoided her and she knew why.

But she had sent one of her women to mingle with the crowd and to report back to her everything that had been said.

She shut herself into her bedchamber. She must be alone. And at the same time she must give no indication that she felt an especial anxiety.

Already she knew that suspicious eyes were turned on her. People were asking themselves who would make a wax image of the King.

There was a knock at her door. It was the woman she had sent to St Paul’s. The woman’s eyes were wide and frantic.

‘My lady,’ she cried, ‘you must fly. Roger Bolingbroke has admitted he practised black magic and treason and he says he did so on your command.’

She stood up and was at once afraid her legs would not support her. This was what she had feared. She looked about her frantically.

Where was Humphrey? But could Humphrey help her now?

Then she knew what she must do.

‘Bring me my riding habit,’ she said.

‘My lady, where are you going?’

‘Away from here … before they come for me.’

She was helped into her riding habit. Her hands were trembling.

‘My lady, you will not get far …’

‘I know … but as far as I need, please God. I am going into sanctuary at Westminster.’

It was but a temporary refuge. She had needed it while she thought of what she must do.

Humphrey did not come to her. He dared not. This was entirely her affair. If he showed his sympathy with her he would immediately stand with her, accused.

No, she had used Humphrey. She had arranged this alone; now she must pay the penalty.

For a few days she was comfortless in Westminster. Some of her attendants came to her and brought her news of what was going on. Bolingbroke, Southwell and the Witch of Eye were all in the Tower. It would go ill with them. Old Margery would not escape this time.

It was no comfort to know that a tribunal was being set up in St Stephen’s Chapel, that it was headed by the Cardinal Beaufort and Archbishop Ayscough to enquire into charges of necromancy, witchcraft, heresy and treason. A formidable list of accusations.

Eleanor lay in discomfort in the sanctuary. To think she had come to this after her spectacular rise to fortune! The serving-woman of no account to become Duchess of Gloucester ! Oh, if only she had remained content. But when were the ambitious ever content? First she had sought to displace the Duke’s wife and having done that, to displace the King.

It would have worked, she thought angrily, but for those fools Bolingbroke and Southwell. How could they be so foolish as to get arrested … and then to mention her! It was unforgivable.

She was called upon to attend St Stephen’s to answer the charges brought against her. She would stand up to them. She had always been able to defend herself.

She was brought before them. Defiantly she faced them.

Yes, she had visited the Witch of Eye. She had bought lotions from her. She might have bought a spell.

She had used this, had she, to lure the Duke of Gloucester from his wife?

Oh no. It was only after he had parted from his wife, when she, Eleanor, had become his mistress. She had wanted to make their love respectable.