The Red Rose of Anjou - Plaidy Jean - Страница 31

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In the midst of all these mutual pleasures Margaret received letters from France; among them was one from her father. There had been great delays, he complained, and he begged her for the good of England, he said, as well as for that of France, to urge the surrender of Maine to the King of France.

Margaret thought of the matter a great deal. She knew that the English were clinging to Maine as one of the most important of their possessions in France. They should give it up. It belonged to France and if it were returned to that country her father would profit, for it would be restored to the House of Anjou.

She wrote to her father. I will do your pleasure as much as lies in my power as I have done already.’

She and Henry had had a happy day. They had been to the colleges and had indulged in a little friendly rivalry which delighted Henry.

She was so amiable, so amusing and so very beautiful. He was singularly blessed in his marriage, he told himself.

When they were in their apartment she sat at his feet with a book on her lap. She would read aloud to him; but after reading for a while she laid aside the book and said: ‘Oh, I wish we could have absolute peace. I think if I could have a child and peace between our countries I would know perfect happiness.’

‘The child will come,’ said Henry. ‘And peace...well, there is no active war at this time.’

‘We have a truce!’ she cried. ‘What is a truce? It means that war can break out at any moment.’

‘Yes,’ he agreed solemnly.

‘And it could be ended at once.’

Henry shook his head.

‘Yes,’ she insisted. ‘Maine. That is all that stands between us and an end to this war.’

‘If I thought...’

‘Yes?’ she asked eagerly. ‘If you thought that giving up Maine would end the war you would give it up?’

‘Yes,’ he cried. ‘Yes, yes.’

She rose and coming close to him put her arms round his neck.

‘Then it is done,’ she said.

He shook his head. ‘The Parliament...’

‘The Parliament. You are the King. Oh Henry, I cannot bear it when you let others rule you. You are the King. It is for you to say.’

‘Yes, it is for me to say,’ he repeated.

She brought pen and paper to him. ‘Henry, write this. Say that you will give up Maine...for peace.’

Henry hesitated but only for a moment. She was so earnest and so beautiful. She was clever too. Far more so than he was. And he did want to please her.

Moreover he desperately wanted peace.

She was triumphant. It was done. The King had agreed to surrender Maine.

###

So Maine was to be surrendered and Edmund Beaufort, Duke of Somerset and nephew of the Cardinal, was in France with Adam Moleyns, Bishop of Chichester, to arrange peace terms.

The King of France was not eager to make peace unless he achieved what he wanted and he knew that it was impossible to get the English to agree to that. What he wanted was to clear the English out of France and to make them give up their claim to the French crown forever. They would not be ready to concede that—but the surrender of Maine was a very good piece of good fortune to be getting on with. All that had been agreed to was an extension of the peace for two years.

The Parliament was very uneasy. They should not have surrendered Maine and yet on the other hand they were not in a position to continue the war. The French were becoming prosperous under the King who in his youth had seemed so hopeless. The English had a King who did not care for war and had no skill in conducting it. England was in no condition to continue the war but on the other hand they must get out of it with some advantages.

The surrender of Maine was a great mistake and for it they blamed the Queen and Suffolk.

Well, there was a truce and that might give them time to build up the army, to raise taxes—if the people did not revolt and refuse to pay them. It was a waiting time, but the uneasiness was growing.

Then disaster struck. Francis Tarragonois, one of the English captains, seeing the build-up of French arms and knowing that attack would come sooner or later, forestalled them and marched into Brittany, took several fortresses and captured the town of Fougeres.

It was a foolish action for it gave the French the very chance they wanted. The English had broken the truce. Very well, that meant it was over. There was nothing to stop them now. They were ready. In a very short time they had captured Normandy.

The loss of Normandy demoralized the English. So it had been long ago in the reign of King John. Normandy had been brought to England with the Conqueror and had been part of the English heritage since the Conquest.

The people were aghast. What had happened to the glorious victories of Henry the Fifth? It was little more than thirty years ago when the bells were ringing and the country was rejoicing in Agincourt.

And now...disaster. The surrender of Maine had meant the beginning of surrender to France. And they had let it happen. Not the King...he was too weak to do it. He had been forced into it. By his ministers, by the grand Duke of Suffolk and the Queen. The Duke of Somerset was a fool. He had been defeated in France and he and the Bishop Moleyns deserved to be hanged.

There was uneasiness throughout the country.

Henry’s idyll was rudely shattered.

They were losing France. Very well, let them lose it. He was content with England. He wanted to see the people happy. He wanted to encourage the artists. He wanted his people to appreciate fine music and art, to have colleges in which to study. War was the last thing he wanted. Let them abandon France...the whole of France if necessary and let them give their minds to being happy in England.

Suffolk came to Windsor to see him. A new Suffolk, a worried man this. His self-assurance was crumbling.

‘My lord, my lady.’ His eyes were on the Queen. She was the one who understood these matters better than the King. ‘Bad news.’

‘No more losses,’ cried Henry. ‘People should give more thought to prayer.’

‘Prayer will do little to save Moleyns now. He went down to Portsmouth to pay the sailors for their work in carrying the troops to France, and he lodged there at the hospital called God’s House.’

Margaret put her hand to her wildly beating heart. He is afraid to tell us, she thought. That is why he is hesitating.

‘My lord,’ she began. ‘William, tell us the worst. We have to know it.’

‘Well, my lady, the sailors began to quarrel about their payment. They said it was not enough and accused Moleyns of taking it for himself. Moleyns replied with some disdain, I gather, that they were behaving foolishly. Therefore they began shouting "Normandy. You have lost Normandy for us." And then they fell upon him.’

‘Forsooth and forsooth,’ cried the King. ‘They did not...harm him . ..’

‘They killed him, my lord. They so mishandled him that a short while after he was dead.’

Margaret looked at Henry. He had turned very pale. The thought of violence unnerved him.

‘It was the mob,’ she cried. ‘I hate them. They act without reason...’

Suffolk said slowly: ‘It shows the way the wind has begun to blow.’

He was right. His enemies were gathering. Maine had been surrendered, Rouen lost. Somerset might in some measure be to blame, Moleyns had paid the penalty, but the leader was Suffolk and now it was his turn.

Very shortly after the murder of Moleyns Suffolk was committed to the Tower.

###

Alice, Duchess of Suffolk came to the Tower and begged to be allowed to see her husband.

When she was shown into the small chamber where he was seated she ran to him and was swept up in his arms.

‘William,’ she cried, ‘how could this happen? How could they

‘I am the scapegoat, Alice.’

‘Something must be done,’ she cried. ‘They will never allow this to go on. The King...the Queen...’

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