The Sun in Splendour - Plaidy Jean - Страница 48

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But money! Where find the money? Perhaps he should collect it himself for he was sure people would give more willingly to him than to some tax levied on them by the Parliament. Suppose he make a progress through the country explaining to the people what he needed the money for. Would they not then give willingly?

He sent for Richard to come down from the North. The reunion was affectionate in the extreme. Richard had the same admiration as ever for his splendid brother; and Edward made it clear that he was grateful to Richard who had kept good order in the North so that for the first time Edward had had no need to worry about what was happening up there.

Richard talked of his pleasant life at Middleham, of his wonderful son Edward. The only thing that marred his happiness was his concern about Anne's health. Like her sister Isabel she suffered from a weakness of the lungs which on certain days made it difficult for her to get her breath. He had had the best doctors and they were sure the keen fresh northern air was good for her, so he was more hopeful now.

Edward took him to see the new baby Richard.

'Your namesake, brother,' he said. Richard admired the baby and as he had visited the young Prince of Wales at Ludlow on his way down was able to assure the Queen that her son was in the best possible health.

When Edward talked to him of the proposed war he was less happy.

Think of the taxes you will have to raise to get an army which can do any good in France.'

'I have already thought of it and how I will raise the money. Burgundy will be with us. We will give Louis a fight and it may well be that we shall regain all the territory we have lost in the last years.'

'Are you sure that Burgundy does not want you to fight his battles for him?'

'If he does/ said Edward, 'he will be disappointed. Come, Richard, prepare. Very soon I shall have Louis suing for peace.'

'First you must raise the army.'

'I intend to,' replied Edward, 'and such an army that Louis will tremble at the sight of it and mayhap we shall come to some terms—most advantageous to us—without much fighting. Battles do not always go to the best fighters, Richard. Strategy is more important than strength sometimes. Warwick taught me that. . . .'

Edward was silent suddenly thinking of Warwick. . . . Not a great warrior really, but a strategist of genius ... a man who could turn a defeat on the battlefield into a victory in diplomacy.

He was constantly remembering what Warwick had taught him, and there was always an element of sadness when he did. He had to stop thinking of Warwick the traitor and remember Warwick the teacher and all the golden rules he had taught his pupil.

Richard said nothing. He knew the trend of Edward's thoughts.

Edward had meant what he said when he had declared he would collect the money himself and very soon was setting out on a tour of the country. In all the towns and villages, people flocked to hear him speak and they marvelled at his handsome looks.

A king to be proud of, they said. They decorated the market squares with flags and prominent among these was the badge of the white rose in the heart of the blazing sun. The white rose at the very heart of the sun of York. But the King himself was more splendid than any device.

They rejoiced in him; in his excessive good looks, his affable manners, his smiles, his willingness to share a joke, his laughter

which rang out wherever he was, his splendid garments all in exquisite taste, made of him a king to be proud of.

And if he wanted money in order to bring the French King to his knees, he should have it. If they had to give there was no one on whom they would rather bestow it.

He visited the houses; blatantly, but so charmingly, he asked for money—and he got it.

There was one case which people were to talk of for years to come because it was so typical of what happened on that progress through the country.

A widow of certain means was asked for twenty pounds which she graciously gave. She was not uncomely and to express his gratitude for her ready compliance with his request, the King kissed her, whereupon she was so overcome that she immediately said she would double her contribution: the first twenty pounds were for the war, the second for the handsomest man in England.

There were few who could have toured the country asking for money and made a triumphant progress of it but Edward did, and emerged from it ever more popular than when he had set out. The people deemed it well worth while to have paid their money to receive a smile and a friendly word from such a king— and in the case of the comely widow—a kiss.

In due course Edward was ready to cross the Channel at the head of a considerable army. He had fifteen hundred men at arms, fifteen thousand archers on horseback, and innumerable foot soldiers. In addition to this army he had equipped another smaller one to go to Brittany in order to aid the Duke whom the French were threatening to attack. He had a reason for wishing to make the Duke of Brittany his ally, for sheltering there was Jasper Tudor with his nephew Henry. Jasper had been one of the leading Lancastrians and although if he were to return to England now there would be little support for him, Edward liked to know where these Tudors were and he could at any time if he remained friendly with the Duke of Brittany ask for their extradition.

Edward was well aware that so many men had rallied to his banner because they hoped to bring back to their homes some of the spoils of war. They wanted French booty. Edward however had other ideas. To fight the French would be to embark on another war such as that which had taken one hundred years to settle, which had swayed back and forth over those years, costing blood and money and eventually had ended by driving the

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English almost completely out of France.

No, Edward wanted something, but it was not war. He wanted some alliance, some monetary reward for holding off a war . . . bribe some might call it. But that was all part of the fortunes of war.

So if these men whom he had gathered together were spoiling for a fight, Edward was not. It was almost as though Warwick were at his shoulder. He would have liked to discuss this matter with Richard but it was something of which Richard would not approve. Rivers . . . ? Well, Rivers agreed with him whatever he did, which was comforting almost always, although there were times when a man wanted an honest opinion.

As soon as he had landed in France he wrote a letter to Louis couched in formal terms. He must give up the crown of France to Edward or face a bitter war.

Having written the letter he called one of his most trusted men to him.

'What I have to say to you,' he said, 'is too important to be trusted to writing. You must swear secrecy on this. Do so now.'

The man swore that nothing should prise the secret, or whatever it was, from him.

'You will take this letter to the King of France and when he has read it you will ask to speak to him in private. He will see you and you will tell him that you know I have no wish to invade France, but that I have threatened to do so to satisfy my people and the Duke of Burgundy. If the King of France would come to some agreement which would be to the advantage of the King of England, your master would graciously consider it. Now is that clear?'

'Absolutely so, my lord.'

'You should also say that I shall not be prepared to listen to any proposition unhl my entire army is landed on French soil and as it is so large that will take at least three weeks.'

'I understand, my lord.'

'Tell the King that he will have that time to decide what he will be able to offer me to avert this long and destructive war on French land.'

The King's messenger bowed his head and went off to do his mission.

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