“What if they talk of sending doctors?”
“We will tell them that you have your own physician and that all you need is rest.”
It was a difficult ordeal. I was afraid my pains would start before they arrived or, even worse, when they were here.
They sat by my bed—the Earl of Warwick and the Cardinal—and they expressed great concern for my indisposition. I told them that all I needed was rest. I had had these bouts before and knew how to deal with them—which was true enough.
The reason they had come was that they were anxious about the King, who was becoming more and more influenced by the Duke of Gloucester.
“The King is serious for his years,” said the Cardinal. “He has made a good impression whenever he has appeared in Parliament. He listens gravely to the speeches and—amazing in one so young—can add his contribution with remarkable intelligence. Had it not been for the Duke of Gloucester’s prompting, it would not have occurred to him that he wanted to govern…alone.”
“Govern alone! Surely not!”
“Surely not indeed, my lady,” said Warwick. “The King has always been a modest boy…aware of his youth and the drawbacks it presents, but under the tutelage of the Duke, alas, he has changed.”
I felt the child move within me. Not yet, little one, I begged. Wait just awhile…not yet.
“It must be impressed upon him,” said the Cardinal, “that he is not yet of an age to govern, that he must pay attention to all his advisers and not listen exclusively to one.”
“That one being the Duke of Gloucester,” I added.
“A man’s knowledge of Latin literature does not give him understanding of the skills of government nor the arts of war. What we have to do is impress on the King that he is too young as yet to take his place as ruler.”
“I think he must understand that well.”
“It is difficult for us, my lady, to tell him this…particularly when the Duke of Gloucester is telling him otherwise.”
“Could not the Parliament explain to him?” I asked.
“They must indeed do so. But he is the King, and they are reluctant to tell him he is unprepared for this great task. He would listen to you. You are his mother, and you can talk to him…mother to son…not as subject to king.”
“I see,” I said.
“So we have come to lay the situation before you. We believe Your Grace could do much good by having a word with the King. He will listen to you…his mother.”
“I will speak to him,” I said.
“Thank you, my lady, and it would be well if there was as little delay as possible.”
“I will see him as soon as I am well,” I promised him.
“I doubt not that, if the King knew you were unwell, he would be happy to visit you here at Hadham.”
“I would rather wait until I feel better. I assure you that, as soon as I am, I will visit him …”
I thought they would never go. The Cardinal must always stand on ceremony, and I supposed he thought it would be impolite to depart the moment he had secured what he had come for.
There was great relief as they rode away. Guillemote with the Joannas and Agnes stood at the window watching them.
Until they were out of sight we were ill at ease.
We had been fortunate again, for a few hours after they had gone my pains started.
Little Owen was born that day.
As soon as the child was safely delivered, we had to think of the difficult situation in which we had been placed. I could not leave my bed, yet if I did not, Henry might come to me. And Henry would not come alone. There would be at least a bodyguard with him—and some attendants…a few perhaps, in view of the fact that he was coming to a small place like Hadham.
Owen thought of all sorts of possibilities. Could I travel in a litter? What of the child? I could not leave him. And if Henry came to Hadham, what of Edmund, Jasper and Jacina? How could we keep them hidden?
We had managed successfully all these years to keep our marriage secret. That was because we had taken great care and had been surrounded by loyal friends and servants; but we had never faced a situation like this before. It had been comparatively simple to deceive the Cardinal and the Earl who came with four or five attendants and had not stayed for more than a few hours. But a visit from the King…that was quite another matter.
Guillemote was one of the most practical people I had ever known. She set about finding a wet nurse in the village and when this was done the way was clear. She, Agnes and Joannas Troutbeck and Belknap would go to Hatfield with all the children, where they would stay until the King’s visit was over.
I would keep to my bed; and as soon as the King had departed, they would return.
The more we considered it, the more it seemed the only possible solution.
Owen would remain at Hadham with Joanna Courcy and the other members of the household.
Henry would be with a hunting party, and we had word that he would call to see me as he had heard that I was unwell. It was a relief that they would not be expecting to stay at Hadham, for the house was too small to accommodate a party of any size. Owen’s great fear was that some members of the party might wander into the nearby village and perhaps pick up a little gossip. That seemed hardly likely, I said, for we had always been so careful to keep the secrets of our household inviolate.
The wet nurse was a healthy young country girl who had been delivered of a male child at the same time as Owen had been born; she had enough milk in her ample breasts to feed two babies.
I felt a terrible sense of foreboding as I lay in bed listening to the sound of their departure. To Edmund, Jasper and Jacina it was an adventure, and they had their beloved Guillemote with them, so they were happy.
Owen came and sat by my bed. He took my hand and felt the pulse at my wrist. “Your heart is pounding,” he said.
“Owen,” I said, “I am afraid.”
“It will be all right. The children will be safe with Guillemote.”
“But to have to send them away…secretly. Sometimes I am very much afraid…as now.”
“We always knew there would be difficulties, Katherine.”
I nodded.
“And yet we did it. Was it worth it?”
“Completely. But how I long for a peaceful life…an ordinary life…the sort of life which comes so naturally to others.”
“All have their difficulties, my love. And we must face ours. And whatever happens, we must remember this: it was all worthwhile.”
“It seems wrong that we should have to pretend that that which means everything in the world to us does not exist.”
“As long as we know it exists, it does not matter.”
“These years…they have been wonderful, have they not, Owen?”
“Aye, and will go on being wonderful. Do not talk as though they are in the past. Here we are…our children growing up around us. We shall grow old together, Katherine…happy until the end. It is rarely that two people are blessed with the happiness you and I have known.”
“It is true. I must remember that.”
“There is nothing to fear. Henry is coming. Henry would never harm you. All you have to do is talk to him. You have always enjoyed those times you have had together. You have often complained that they are so rare. Well, now he is coming to see you. The children are well away. Soon they will be back, and it will be as it was before.”
I lay back on my pillows. I did not want him to leave me, but even in our household we had to be watchful of ourselves all the time. He kissed me tenderly and left me.
I lay back, awaiting the arrival of my son.
It was midafternoon when he arrived. The children would be at Hatfield by this time, I assured myself. Owen was right. There was nothing to fear. Henry might only be a boy, but he was the King, and wherever he went there must be a certain amount of pomp.
I could imagine them all, lined up below to receive him. Then I heard the trumpets announcing his arrival.<
br />
I should have been down there to greet him.
He came into my bedroom. There were two of his courtiers with him. Guards, I supposed. He would be used to having them with him.
My heart gave a little bound of pleasure at the sight of him. He was not yet fourteen, but he looked a little older. He was still a boy, though.
With a regal gesture he dismissed his guards.
He came swiftly to the bed. “You are sick?” he said anxiously.
“I am recovering,” I told him.
He took my hands and kissed them.
“I am so happy to be with my lady mother,” he said.
“And always I find great joy in your presence.”
He smiled. “Dear mother, tell me of your illness.”
“It is nothing. I grow better every day. In a week I shall be up and about as usual. It is just that…at the moment…I am a little weak.”
“What illness was this?”
I lifted my shoulders.
“Could not the doctors discover? I should have sent my physician.”
“Oh no…no. It was soon over. Do not let us talk of my ailments. How have you been?”
“I am well. But when they said you were unwell and wanted to see me, I was greatly distressed.”
“Did you think you would find me on my deathbed?”
A look of anxiety came into his eyes. Poor little King! He was so young after all. How cruel it was to thrust such a burden on those frail shoulders. I wished that I could tell him everything…introduce him to his half-brothers and-sister…say to him, “Leave all that pomp of kingship and come and live with us…with your stepfather and half-brothers and-sister. We will teach you what it is to be truly happy apart from the fears that your secret life be discovered and attempts will be made to destroy it.”
“How relieved I am that I did not,” he said.
“Oh Henry,” I told him. “I often think how happy I should have been if we could have been together always. But that is not the way of life, is it? It is only the humbly born who can have the pleasure of their children’s company. I often wonder why people envy us. But you are wondering why I am talking thus. Oh, it is good of you to come and see me.”
“I would come often if that were possible.”
“I know it, and it gives me the greatest pleasure. You will never forget that I am your mother, will you? And that, I believe, gives me special privileges to speak to the King.”
“Dear lady mother, the privilege is mine.”
“Ah, you make pretty speeches. Is that what you learn from your uncle Gloucester?”
He smiled and I went on: “You enjoy your sessions with him, do you?”
“No one understands literature as he does. His talk is most beguiling.”
“I remember that you always had a feeling for literature rather than riding, hawking, archery and the use of arms.”
“It is far more interesting, dear lady.”
“And the Earl of Warwick, does he think so?”
He gave a rueful laugh. “I think the Earl believes the study of literature to be a waste of time. He would not know Dante from Aristotle.”
“He is nevertheless a good and worthy tutor.”
“I expect that is true.”
“But you, of course, enjoy more what you discuss with the Duke of Gloucester.”
“But naturally. We talk of matters of absorbing interest. I am tired of warlike activities. They tire me as the great writers and thinkers never do.”
“And the Cardinal?”
“He is of the same mind as the Earl of Warwick. My uncle Gloucester thinks I give them too much liberty.”
“They have been good tutors for you, as you admit.”
“My uncle is of the opinion that I should no longer suffer their restraints.”
“Henry, you are not very old, you know.”
“I shall be fourteen years old in December.”
“It is too young to take on the burdens of kingship.”
“My uncle would help me.”
“Gloucester!” I could not hide my dismay.
“Yes. He says that Warwick cannot think of me as anything but a child…and the Cardinal is the same. They want to hold me back. My uncle says that I have shown signs of maturity and firmness. Do you know, dear mother, I spoke to them in Parliament when the Cardinal and my uncle Gloucester were disputing together…and I was able to solve their differences. My uncle says that I have enough wisdom to rule without the Cardinal always at my elbow…and if I were in any difficulties, he would always be there to help me.”
“Gloucester!” I repeated in derision.
“He is very clever, dear mother. He charms people. He is very merry. He makes them laugh. They all love him.”
“Not all,” I said. “The Cardinal and the Earl of Warwick evidently do not. And I believe there may be many others who feel as they do.”
“But I am the King.”
“Yes, you are the King, but this is a great country. It has to be governed with care. There can so easily be trouble…and kings can lose their crowns. Experience is needed to rule a country, Henry, and you are too young to have had any.”
“Yes, but you see, I can learn from my uncle. He would be there to help me.”
“Help you to destroy yourself. Henry, I am your mother. My great care is for you. I want you to be happy. I want you to be a great, good king like your father.”
“That is what I aim to be.”
“Then you must not assume responsibility until you are ready to carry it. The demands of kingship are great. A boy of fourteen, however clever, would be unable to meet them.”
“But I should not be alone.”
“You are too young to see that your uncle is working for himself…not for you. He is an ambitious man. He seeks to rule this country through you.”
“Oh no, my uncle Gloucester is not like that. He wants me to be King.”
“No, Henry. You cannot rule yet. You must listen to your Parliament and your Council. You cannot break away from the Cardinal and the Earl of Warwick. They will guide you. They will help you. And you must listen to the wishes of Parliament. The worst possible thing for a king is to be in opposition to the will of his Parliament and the people. When you are older, you will understand that. In the meantime, put out of your mind those notions. You are a boy yet. In time you will be a great king, but only if you listen to the wise men about you and do not let yourself be taken in by flattery.”
He was looking at me in amazement.
“Henry,” I went on, “whatever you may think, know this: here is a mother who seeks nothing for herself and whose only concern is for your future greatness and above all your happiness. You do know that, do you not?”
“I do,” he said fervently.
“Well then, take heed of what I say. You want to take over the rule of this country. You cannot, Henry. It is a man’s task, and even then he must be a very clever man. You have done well so far, beyond what could be expected of one your age. That is true, and wise as you have shown yourself to be, we shall see that you are even wiser. You are going to put yourself into the hands of…not one who wants to rule through you…but those men like the Earl of Warwick and the Cardinal and the members of your Council who have proved their wisdom and their desire to serve their country well.”
He listened intently. I was proud of him. He really wanted to be a good king, worthy of his father. He was not seeking self-importance—in fact, he rather shunned it. He wanted to be a king with his uncle Gloucester beside him, because they shared a taste for literature and he liked to be with him.
“Henry,” I went on, “it may be that the Parliament will point out to you that you are as yet too young to take over the government. I do not want this to be too much of a shock to you if it comes. I want to prepare you. You must fall in with their wishes…whatever advice you get to the contrary. To do anything else would be dangerous for you. It might even result in civil war.”
“War
!” he cried. “I hate war. How I hated going to France. I did not want to be King of France.”
I said: “You do well to hate war. It is something which brings no good to either side…winner or loser…and then how long does the winner remain the winner?”
He nodded in agreement.
“Henry, I am forgiven for talking thus?”
He looked at me questioningly.
“I have spoken to you very frankly,” I continued, “but it is out of my love for you. You know that, do you not?”
“Indeed I do.”
“So…all is well between us?”
He took my hands and kissed them. “How could it be otherwise?” he said.
“And you will …?” I began.
“I see that I am too young to govern,” he replied.
“You will grow up, Henry, soon…too soon perhaps.”
“Dear mother,” he said. “Why do you stay here in the country? I should like you to be at Court.”
“This life suits me, Henry.”
“But we should see each other often.”
“We should.”
“Then we shall.”
I smiled at him ruefully. How could we? I wondered what he would say if he knew of my new family, which was his too? Surely he would love his little half-brothers and-sister. If only I could explain to him!
I said: “I feel sure the Parliament will point out to you that you are too young to assume kingship. You will now be prepared, Henry, and I know you will accept their decision graciously.
“I understand, dear mother,” he said. “Yes, I must indeed wait…until I am older.”
I took his hand and held it fast. “I would I could keep you here with me. I wish you could share my life …”
“You must get well quickly and come to Court. I will send my physician to attend you. He is very good.”
“I do not need him. I am much better. To see you and to know that you are not too important to listen to me gives me great pleasure.”
I was proud of him. He was clever enough to realize his own shortcomings, and surely that is a sign of greatness in a man?
He will be as great a king as his father was, I told myself, though I prayed not a warlike one. Let him be a king who gave his attention to learning…to the building up of culture in the land. Surely that would make him a king of true greatness?
Jean Plaidy - [Queens of England 07] Page 30
