Carefully, choosing his words, Warwick explained to Anne how he would join forces with Margaret of Anjou and the Lancastrians exiled here in France by order of King Edward. They were here at the pleasure of King Louis XI, who gave them support and protection. With their armies joined, Warwick would sweep into England to confront the forces of King Edward.
Anne shook her head in disbelief. “This is madness father. You are hated by the Lancastrians whom you have defeated many times in battle. And Margaret of Anjou has vowed to destroy you.” She reminded him of Margaret’s curse that “The Earl of Warwick has pierced my heart with wounds which can never be healed; they will bleed ‘til the day of judgment when I will appeal to the justice of God for vengeance against him.” All her childhood, Anne heard of the merciless exploits of Margaret of Anjou who led troops into battle herself and personally ordered the killing of her beloved Richard’s father. Margaret was wedded to King Henry VI during his reign in order to secure a peace with powerful Duke Charles III of France.
“Her husband now rots in the Tower of London because of you, father, and her son, Prince Edward, is forced to grow up in France without his inheritance as well,” she continued. “What makes you believe that Margaret would ever want to be part of your Enterprise? When Queen she never felt a true loyalty to England.”
Warwick had grown restless as she spoke, not expecting such a fierce response. “Because I could restore her husband to the throne, and she would regain her power and properties.” Anne did mentally acknowledge that the English would have tolerated Henry VI but for the fierce injustices of his dominating Queen. Then Warwick revealed the most devastating part of his scheme. “And I will secure heirs for Margaret by offering to wed you to her son, Prince Edward.”
Anne almost fainted at the thought of such happenings. Her dreams of a lifetime with Richard suddenly vanished. Her body shook with anger at the realization that her father would use her so. “How could you do this, father? Where are the loyalty, the honor, and the trust? You won the crown of England for Edward, the rightful King, against this horrible woman who killed your own father at the battle of Wakefield.” A sickness grew within her, threatening to rise and check her voice. “And King Edward and the Yorkists will not simply give way,” she reminded him.
Warwick continued as though he did not hear the pleadings of his daughter. “I need but one great victory and the deaths of Edward and Richard to assure the succession. George can be managed with properties and titles. As to old emotions, old memories, old loyalties, they have no place here. I must go onward. Regain all. Recapture past glories.”
Yes, thought Anne, these are indeed the traits of a Kingmaker. She leaned against the windowsill for support, struggling for control and understanding. The room was full of ominous shadows. “Father,” there was now desperation in her voice, “marrying me to the Prince may all bode well for your ambitions, but I cannot wed a perfect stranger under duress. There must be love in such a relationship.”
Warwick took her hand; his voice became soft, tender. “Anne, my sweetheart, listen. When I return the lack-witted King Henry to the throne, he will rule through me. Margaret will surely agree as well, as I will have the backing of King Louis and will control the armies. I will have great power.” He paused, standing so close Anne could smell the soft leather of his clothes and fine new boots, “and you will have power too. You, my Anne.”
“Power.” The words tasted strangely in her mouth.
“Yes.” Margaret’s son will someday become King and you, daughter, will become the Queen and the mother of a line of kings. Edward is most handsome, so I am told, and a trained warrior at eighteen years of age.”
“God no, father, I do not want that.” Anne showed tears at the corners if her eyes. I seek not title, nor power, nor riches.”
Warwick listened but did not hear her. So blindingly bright had the future become in his mind, that he was impervious to all reasoning, eager only for the next turn of fortune’s glittering wheel.
“It’s all arranged. King Louis already pleads my cause to Margaret of Anjou, as he is anxious for an alliance and trade with England, which I have promised him. It will also strengthen his moves against Burgundy.” Warwick then swept Anne up in a moment of giddy delight at the thought of his brilliant plans, and swirled her about as though a child. “And for you, my Anne, your dowry will be England,” he proclaimed.
“No! Don’t you understand? I will have none of it! I will not join in any plot to seek the death of Richard. I cannot marry this Prince Edward of Lancaster.”
Warwick’s euphoria faded and his voice became stern but gentle. He must make his daughter see that this was the only way for him to reverse their fortune. “Anne you have my pride, my stubborn streak, the firm chin line I had as a boy. Pride is well and good. But this is not a simplistic world. Right and wrong are not clear choices. Loyalties shift with the tides. Circumstances change, and events are turned around to suit the times. My chances now lie with Lancaster. Would you gainsay me the opportunity to restore the name and fortunes of our family and become Premier Lord of England once again?”
Anne meekly shook her head silently in agreement.
“Then wed Prince Edward to seal this arrangement, and we will return to England in a royal manner.”
Anne understood the logic of her father’s plan and purpose. But she also realized that to assent was to lose all hope, forever, for a life with Richard. She pressed her fathers hand to her cheek, sank to her knees and pleaded once again. “Father, please do not insist on this. There must be another way.” He must hear her.
Warwick suddenly became resolute and firm. This was the way alliances were made and kingdoms achieved. That he had even considered his daughter’s opinion and approval, he now regretted. Frivolous ideas of loyalty and love must not cloud his intentions. He jerked his hand away and pulled her up on her feet. “You will do what you are told, daughter,” he exclaimed in a cold and expressionless manner. “We will have no more discussion of it.” Anne saw a new person in her father’s continence and she realized that her fate was sealed on this French soil. Her life would now center on survival, with only the dimmest of hope that Richard would ever be a part of it. But that hope must sustain her.
CHAPTER 5
In far off London, not cannons, but the summer thunder rumbled. Richard mused on the heavy drops of rain spattering into the swollen Thames. He had returned to Court with Edward after their unsuccessful pursuit of Warwick, and he was saddened by the thought that he was further distancing himself from his Anne as a consequence of his support and loyalty to the King. Dreamily, he looked back on his years at Middleham when Edward, placed him under the tutelage of Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick. There he studied the fine art of knighthood and learned the codes of knightly conduct and responsibilities. His education was steeped in the classic languages, arts, mathematics, and recalled, most fondly, the many conversations about proper court manners and etiquette with Warwick’s daughters, Anne and Isabel. It was then that he first became enamored with the frail and lovely Anne, and her gentle caring ways.
Richard was not as handsome as his older brothers, Clarence and Edward, and though smaller and frailer than they, he was determined to strengthen himself in order to better serve his King to whom he vowed to give his life. By intense use of sword and axe and numerous mock tournaments, his right arm and shoulder became noticeably over-developed. Because of his small stature, this condition was seemingly more pronounced.
“What news of Warwick and Clarence, Richard?” The voice of Edward wakened Richard from his reverie. Edward IV, the Royal Plantagenet, was wrapped in silks; comfortably ensconced in a mound of pillows, legs stretched out, partaking of a basket of dates. The King was tall of stature, and regarded as the most handsome man in the realm, if not all Europe. He had the eyes of the ladies at Court and exhibited a great love for life and its pleasures. Beyond the door, the noises of Westminster beckoned: singing, somewhere a lute, the patter of danci
ng in the great hall, laughter. His Queen, Elizabeth Woodville, had a new jester.
“Your officers report that they have landed at Honfleur,” Richard replied. “It is still difficult to believe that Clarence has aligned himself with Warwick against you.”
But Richard had forgotten how Edward began to favor him over Clarence early on. After the Lancastrians under Margaret of Anjou killed his father, Richard, Duke of York, Edward was proclaimed King as his heir to the House of York. Although outnumbered, he very soon afterward defeated the Lancastrians at the battle of Towton in Yorkshire with the aid of the Earl of Warwick, in one of the bloodiest battles on English soil. Henry VI, Margaret, and her son, Edward, were forced to flee. Just before he was crowned King, Edward appointed his brother George as the Duke of Clarence and Richard as the Duke of Gloucester, for their loyalty and support. George was commonly referred to as Clarence, and Richard as Gloucester.
It soon became apparent, however, that Edward was assigning to Richard more authority, larger estates and more important commissions. He eventually also appointed Richard as Constable of England for life. These acts of preference were to strain the loyalty and allegiance of Clarence in later years, and drive him into an alliance with the Earl of Warwick who was also becoming disenchanted with Edward’s undercutting of his powers and authority. As Edward became less trusting in Warwick and the Woodvilles, both of whom would control him, he became ever more reliant and dependent upon Richard.
“Honfleur may be their haven.” Edward replied. “Having evaded us at Exeter they hastily embarked for Calais, but I had given orders to deny their landing there. No doubt Warwick retreats to France to seek the aid of King Louis XI to help him persuade the Lancastrians in France to join him against us. My spies tell me that Warwick has previously visited with King Louis and obtained a promise to help restore King Henry VI to the throne. It is no secret that Louis has courted Warwick’s friendship as a way to regain his influence in England. King Louis would achieve his goals by generous trade concessions, favorable marriages, or any other means.” The next comment was a shock to Richard. “It is also said that Louis plans to help Warwick by persuading Margaret of Anjou to allow the marriage of her son, Prince Edward, to Warwick’s daughter, Anne. With this union Warwick would be aligned with Lancaster against us.”
This revelation stunned Richard. Though Edward had justly condemned Warwick for his treasonous attempt to replace him on the throne with his brother, George, Richard had still hoped that someday, the King would assent to his marriage with Anne. He realized the deep chasm that now separated Edward from a once supportive Warwick because of Warwick’s disaffection with Edward and his shift of authority to the Woodvilles, Queen Elizabeth and her kin. The Woodvilles reigned in Court and controlled Edward more than Warwick could bear. “That cannot be so, Edward. The House of Lancaster and Margaret of Anjou who killed many of his kin despise Warwick. He soundly defeated Henry VI, at Northampton and imprisoned him so that our father could claim the throne,” Richard reminded him.
“Yes, I also well remember, my brother, how Margaret later killed our father in regaining the throne for her husband,” Edward responded. “Yet Warwick is now a traitor. He schemes against me because he perceives that I challenged his power by my secretly wedding Elizabeth and bringing the Woodvilles into the Court. That he had planned a French marriage for me is galling. He also resents my arranging a treaty with Burgundy and an alliance with the Duke of Brittany against France without his approval. Above all, he sees I favor you over Clarence, whom he planned to place on the throne in my stead. Had you not prevailed over Lord Stanley this may have come to pass.”
Edward knew of Richard’s love for Anne. He wished he could block out the years at Middleham, and Warwick’s patient tutelage. All the skills of warfare Edward possessed came from the man now his enemy. Once it became apparent that Warwick conspired to regain his power and influence by alliances with the House of Lancaster and the French King Louis, he could not sanction a joining of his brother Richard with Warwick’s daughter, Anne.
Richard still could not imagine the unfolding events. “Anne may not marry Prince Edward. Margaret will resist such a union,” he proclaimed.
“Richard, don’t you see that Margaret will assent in spite of her hatred for Warwick so that King Henry can once again wear the crown, and she regain the trappings of power through him? Mark me, the Lancastrians will soon be at our shores,” Edward prophesied.
“Then we must prepare for battle,” replied Richard. His loyalty to Edward was once again pushing his own desires in the background. “If we prevail over Warwick, will you spare him?”
“I may spare his life if he refutes his ways and swears allegiance to the crown,” replied Edward. When you have sons, Richard, let no man become their Kingmaker.”
“And Anne?”
“My brother, she may already be promised to Prince Edward. I say again, forget her.”
CHAPTER 6
With her mother, a few ladies-in-waiting, and aging soldiers, Anne set out for Angiers where her father awaited. Isabel and George had remained at Honfleur. Very little was spoken during the long journey. Riding through the hills of Normandy and the green reaches of the Mayenne River Valley, Anne contemplated in her solitude that, were this English land, she would have tried to run away. It would have been easy to slip into a group of pilgrims. There was always shelter, wine and bread for them and no questions asked. But in this summer-baked land of France, she realized that she would soon lose her way, and she did not speak the language that easily. Sometimes at night, when the stars shone remote and clear, she was sure there was some solution. In the bright light of day, she knew there was none.
Approaching Angiers, the skyline of the city shimmered in the hot July sun rising on the banks of the Loire River. Anne could see its famous Cathedral, which dominated the left bank. Easily seen, too, was the fortress castle with its seventeen round towers, each conically roofed, and linked by the curtain wall. Over that massive castle the pennant of a gold fleur-de-lis glistened on a field of blue. Louis the Eleventh was in residence. Anne turned to the Sergeant-at-Arms. “Is not Angiers the capital of Anjou?”
“Aye, it is the realm of Duke Réne, the father of Queen Margaret. He is proud of his city. The Cathedral contains, in its central cross, a piece of the blessed cross of our Savior. ‘Tis called the Cross St. Laud d’Angers, a most powerful relic.”
“Does King Louis have his entire court with him?”
The sergeant, who had ridden in taciturn aloofness until these last moments of the journey, suddenly smiled. “His Grace, the King, has only his family and a few followers with him.” He grinned sheepishly. “King Louis is a very frugal man.”
Anne nodded. It was the first time she felt that she was a guest in this land and not a prisoner since that day with her father at Honfleur. She took a deep breath and asked, “Is Margaret of Anjou also in Angiers?”
“So I have heard. I have never seen her. It is said she had great beauty in her youth.” He turned slightly. “I mean no offense, Mademoiselle, but you remind me of my daughter. She too has such golden hair.”
Anne was surprised at the comment. She was aware that people considered that both she and Isabel were beautiful, with the blue-gray eyes, typical of her family. She recalled fondly that Richard had loved to feel the softness of her long blonde hair. The skyline blurred before her as she lamented that never again would Richard kiss her hair in the lightest of caresses. She tried to shift her hurt and anger to France and its thrifty, scheming King. She could not. He was a dark shadow as yet without form.
Margaret of Anjou, who as Queen of England had torn England asunder with corruption and civil war, was more real. But Anne could not place her at the center of the pain she felt either. Such rationalizations did no good. She realized that the one person determining her fate now was her father. He was a manipulator of kings and queens. A faint admiration stirred for him, then faded. He had power as long as it served their
royal purposes. Even a Warwick regime in England, be it called Lancastrian, would always serve the purpose and ambitions of King Louis.
Anne and her mother finally arrived at the darkened castle at Angiers. There was no ceremony and no one to welcome them. Anne became unsettled. “Why is not father here to greet us mama?”
“He is surely in council over important matters with King Louis, my dear.”
Yes, thought Anne, busy with King Louis and Margaret of Anjou plotting their schemes and her marriage to Prince Edward.
The castle of Angiers was chilly even in the heat. The stones were a dismal black and depressing to look at. The Queen’s attendants showed them to their quarters and presented them with a small trunk with clothes provided by Queen Charlotte. Anne put on one of the dresses from the trunk and viewed herself with unflattering clarity in the one really good piece of furniture in the room, a reflecting glass of Venetian work. The dress hung loose and limp. The Queen must be short and plump, she thought. The mirror showed her to be thin and sun burnt with dark-circled eyes. She looked over to her mother and saw a fine line of perspiration clinging to her upper lip. No breeze stirred through the narrow window slit. Each day it seemed that her mother grew more tired and distraught. Anne did not want her mother to see herself in that glass. To distract her from the obvious discomfort she sensed, Anne asked questions of their hosts. “What do you know about Margaret’s father, Duke Réne of Anjou, mama?”
In a tired monotone voice, her mother recalled what she remembered of the Duke. “Duke Réne had lived a life of bright promise and gloomy defeats,” she began. “His marriage to Isabelle, the heiress of Lorraine and direct descendant of Charlemagne had brought neither land nor power. His titles were numerous but valueless: King of Cicily and Jerusalem, Duke of Calabria, King of Naples. He spent many years in prison trying to assert those titles and now finds his pleasure in painting little portraits on glass. He only wishes his daughter Margaret success in her schemes to regain the throne of England because she is a burden to him financially.”
Anne of Warwick The Last Plantagenet Queen Page 3
