He looked so melancholy that he reminded me of the young boy who was ashamed because he tired more easily than the others. I had been sorry for him then and that was when I began to love him.
Soon he would go to war. He would fight valiantly for his brother's cause. Who knew what would happen to him in the heat of the battle? My father had died at Barnet, the Prince of Wales at Tewkesbury, Richard's father at Wakefield. War was death and destruction. And Richard was going to war with a heavy heart because he was anxious about the future of his children.
Perhaps I had known from the beginning what I must do. I wished I had not been asked to do it, but my mother was right. Love was selfless and I did love Richard, and I could not bear to see him unhappy as he was now.
I had made up my mind and as soon as I did so I was happier.
"Richard," I said, "when would John and Katharine be coming to Middleham?"
He stared at me and I saw the joy dawn in his face.
He caught me in his arms.
"You will have them here?"
"But, of course," I said.
"I thought..."
"It was a shock. I am a silly jealous creature. I could not bear the thought of there being anyone but myself." "There will never be anyone else, and there has never been anyone quite like you."
I said: "I think it will be good for Edward to have other children in the nursery."
I awaited the arrival of the children with a great deal of apprehension. Richard was nervous, too. Any day the summons might come for him to go the king; he had already gathered together the company of men he would take with him. I knew how he hated leaving Middleham at any time; but now, with his children coming here, he felt that his presence was needed more than ever. So it was an uneasy time. And at length the children arrived. I was glad they had come before he had left.
They were handsome children, both of them fair-headed, with what I thought of as the Plantagenet look tall, strong, vital. The boy was two years older than Edward and perhaps a few months more: and the girl, I guessed to be about seven years old. They were not in the least overawed, although Middleham must have seemed grand to them after their mother's dwelling and that of the family with whom they had been staying prior to their arrival here. I noticed they were very respectful to Richard. I guessed he had visited them only on rare occasions of late and they would have been told that he was of great importance, being the brother of the king. They eyed me shrewdly. I said: "Welcome to Middleham. You are Katharine, and I believe you are John."
"I am John Plantagenet," said the boy. And the girl added: "And I am Katharine Plantagenet."
"Well, this is going to be your home now."
"Yes," said Katharine, "I know. Our mother is dead. They came and took her away in a box."
She looked pathetic, so young and vulnerable. I put my hands on her shoulders and kissed her.
"I hope you will be happy here," I said. Then the boy came and stood before me, holding up his face to be kissed.
Richard looked outwardly calm but I well understood his emotions and I was gratified that I had agreed to have the children, for I was recalling what a mistake it would have been to refuse to do so.
I felt that the first encounter had gone off very well.
Little Edward was interested in the newcomers. They were merry and inclined to be boisterous and clearly they found the castle of great interest. John shrieked with pleasure at the armour in the hall because he had at first thought it was a man standing there. Katharine was a little more restrained.
On their first night I went to see them after they were in their beds. They were both crying quietly.
I said to them: "Tell me what is wrong."
"John wants our mother," said Katharine.
"And so do I."
I was moved. They were so young, so vulnerable. I wondered briefly what would have become of them if I had refused to take them in. They would have stayed with the family they were with, I supposed. Instinct told me that they were the kind of children who would have come through whatever troubles overtook them. But I was glad I had not turned them away.
I was going to forget that they were the result of Richard's love for another woman. I was the one who now had his love and trust and I wanted him to know how grateful I was for this, and I was going to do my best to be a mother to his children.
I said: "I shall be your mother now."
Katharine's sobs ceased and so did John's. I bent over Katharine and kissed her and suddenly she put her arms round my neck. John was waiting for me to do the same with him.
"You are going to like it at Middleham," I said.
"You will have your own horses and you can ride on the moors."
They were both sitting up in bed listening to me. And I told them that when I was a little girl I had lived here with my sister. I explained how we did our lessons in the schoolrooms which they would now have, how we learned to ride and in time were able to go wherever we wanted to on our horses.
They listened intently and I saw the sadness fade from their faces.
I said: "I am glad you two came here."
And I was. My mother was delighted. She said: "It is good to have children in the house. Houses which have stood for many years need the young to bring them to life."
Edward was very interested in his new sister and brother. Sometimes I was afraid they would be too boisterous for him. He had taken after Richard in looks and physique. I worried about him. He seemed so small. I had always been a little anxious about him but I think I became more so after the other children came.
Richard was delighted by my reception of them. He was not able to show them how much he cared about them. He was a little aloof and while they regarded him with awe and the utmost respect, it was to my mother and me that they turned.
"It is easy to see," I said, "that I am taking the place of their mother in their minds, which is how I would have it."
A few weeks passed while we waited for that summons which would call Richard to the king's side. I was dreading it for I knew it meant war. Why did there have to be these conflicts? Of what use were they? What good did they bring to anyone? We heard from occasional visitors to the castle that the king was raising a great deal of money from his benevolences. It seemed that when he appeared, handsome, splendid, and extremely agreeable, with a smile for the women and a word for the humblest, he won all hearts. It seemed inevitable that soon he must raise enough money to set out on his mission of conquest. Men were flocking to the banner of the white rose of York set in the blazing sun. War excited men. It was an escape from their humdrum lives, a chance to win booty. It was saddening. Many of them would die; others would be badly wounded. How could they want their peaceful lives disrupted just for temporary excitement?
So the days passed. My mother was so happy to be at Middleham away from Beaulieu.
"Freedom is one of the most precious gifts a man or woman can have," she said.
"I had certain comforts at Beaulieu, but there was always the knowledge that I was a prisoner. Here, I feel free and I am so happy to see you with Richard. He is a good man and he loves you truly. I am so glad he is only brother to the king and the king has sons. And in any case Clarence comes before Richard."
"You are thinking of the throne."
"It is not good to be too close to it. If your father had not wanted to rule ... if he had been content to live without power, what a different life we should all have had! He would be with us now. It is a blessing that you should be here at Middleham, away from all the intrigues and power-struggles of the court."
"I know that well. But soon Richard will have to go to war."
"It is the curse men bring upon themselves," said my mother.
"Why does Edward want to go to war? He is now safe on the throne. He must be one of the most popular kings England has ever had. Why? Why?"
"The people want wars. Look how they are flocking to his banner."
She shook her head sadly.
&
nbsp; We were at the window. The children were in the garden with one of the nurses. John and Katharine were running and leaping, Edward toddling after them.
They are so happy together," said my mother, dismissing the gloomy subject of war.
"How right you were not to refuse to take them in, Anne."
"Yes. Richard is very content to see them settled. I think he worried a great deal about them."
"Naturally he would. He is a good father."
"He will see that they are brought up as befits their birth," I said, "and that they are well provided for."
She nodded.
"Yes, I am glad they are here. I thought I should resent them, but I find I do not. I see them as what they are ... little children ... Richard's children and responsibility, and that makes them mine. But there is one thing ..." I said and she looked at me expectantly.
Tell me, Anne." she said.
"When I look at them, I think that Edward looks a little frail."
"He is young yet."
"I think those two were lusty from birth. They have so much energy. John jumps all the time as though he finds it difficult to stand still, and Katharine seems to be constantly repressing her high spirits. They make Edward seem delicate."
"He is young. He will grow out of it."
"Oh yes, of course." I said, allowing fears to be set aside.
"He will."
The expected summons had come and Richard, with his men at arms and archers, set forth on the march south. I stood with the children, watching him go, feeling sad and full of fear. There is a great drawback about being happy and contented with life, for a person like myself lives in constant fear of losing that blissful state. But so must every loving wife feel when she sees her husband leaving for the wars.
I felt a burning anger. It was unnecessary. It was not as though we were being attacked. I thought of all those men going into battle to bring suffering and misery to people who had done them no harm whom they did not even know.
Those were long and anxious days which followed. We were waiting all the time for news, both longing for and dreading it. Those hot days of June were hard to live through.
"What is happening in France?" was the often unspoken question on everyone's lips.
The months passed. June. July. August.
I remember that September well. We had heard only fragments of news. We had one or two visitors at the castle and though they had not been able to tell us much news, we did gather that there had been no fighting in France, that King Edward and Louis had been in conference together and we should soon have news of the Treaty of Picquigny.
I was immensely relieved. But what did it mean? Edward had sailed with his magnificent army, accompanied by his brothers and their followers to join forces with the Duke of Burgundy against Louis. And there had been no fighting!
The tension was lifted a little. I felt I could wait for Richard to return.
It was September when he came. He was quiet, brooding ... and I knew that he was disturbed.
He told me about it, how the king had acted in an unprecedented manner. It was the first time I had known him critical of his brother. Of course, he had disapproved of Edward's way of living, his insatiable sexual appetite, his marriage which had caused such disasters, but previously he had always hastened to his defence. Now he was indeed dismayed and disillusioned.
"We went to France," he said.
"We had the finest English army ever taken to those shores. Henry the Fifth would have been proud of it."
"Yet there was no fighting?"
"My sister Margaret of Burgundy met us. She gave us a welcome. Alas, if only we could have relied on her husband. He is not called Charles the Rash for nothing. He was not prepared. He had marched off some time before to besiege a city against which he had a grievance, and so lost most of the forces he had on this senseless exercise. Not that that need have deterred us completely. We had this magnificent army."
"So it was decided not to fight the French?"
"Louis is sly and very clever. He knew full well that he could not stand against us. His real enemy, of course, is Burgundy. What he did suggest was a meeting between himself and Edward; and when this took place he offered Edward terms for peace which my brother could not refuse."
"But that is wonderful! It has stopped the war."
"Anne, those men were brought out to fight. They had been promised the spoils of war. They had left their homes, their work, their families, to fight for the king, to bring glory to England. This contrived peace, these bribes from Louis would bring them no benefits. They would go home empty-handed."
"But sound and well in body."
"They were looking for adventure and gain. Don't you see? That had been promised them. They had been taken from their homes merely to give a show of might to Louis."
"But there is peace!"
"Burgundy is incensed."
"Well, he was not ready for war, was he?"
"But don't you see? Edward has become friendly with his old enemy, the King of France."
"And stopped a war."
"I believe this was what Edward had in mind all the time. He did not tell me."
"Would you expect him to?"
Richard looked at me steadily and said: "Yes." And then I saw the pain in his eyes, the humiliation, and what was hurting him most was to be at odds with his brother.
"Tell me about the treaty," I said.
"It is to be a truce between the kings for seven years."
"Seven years!" I cried.
"Without a war!"
Trade comes into it. There is to be an abolition of tolls and tariffs charged on goods passing from either country, and that is to be for twelve years. And there are two clauses which mean most to Edward. His eldest daughter, Elizabeth, is to marry Charles the Dauphin; and if Elizabeth should die before the marriage, her sister Mary will take her place. But what delights my brother most is that Louis is to pay him a pension of 50,000 gold crowns each year. The first instalment has already been received by him."
"Then surely," I said, "he has achieved much with his magnificent army?"
The army went over to fight and the men are disgruntled. They are murmuring among themselves. What gain is it to them if the king gets his pensions and his daughter is to marry the Dauphin of France?"
"It is peace," I insisted.
"Many of the nobles were against it. Louis invited those whom he considered important enough to his chateau He entertained them lavishly and gave them bribes until he had most of them on his side. Louis is shrewd. He is wily. He knew that he could offer a great deal and still it would not amount to what he would have lost by fighting against an army such as Edward had managed to put in the field." He laughed bitterly.
"He was concerned about me. He knew that I deplored the whole matter. He asked me to dine with him. His flattery was sickening. What do you think he offered me? Not money. That would be too blatant... too undignified to one in my position. He offered me some fine plate and horses. I declined them. I said to him quite frankly that no amount of plate or fine horses would make me a party to this treaty."
"And what said Louis to that?"
"Louis is all suave politeness. He looked a little sad, but put on an air of understanding and implied that our differences of opinion made no difference to our friendship."
"Which is true, of course."
"He will hate me for ever."
"Oh, Richard, I am so sorry about this, but I cannot but rejoice to have you with me."
He said he, too, was glad to be home, but he wished it had been from a more honourable venture.
He stayed at Middleham for some time after that. I wondered whether Edward would do something to bring their relationship back to the old footing. But there was no summons and I wondered how deep was the rift between the two brothers.
While he was with Louis, Edward must have made a bargain with him regarding Queen Margaret, for shortly afterwards she was allowed to return to Franc
e. I heard later that her father gave the Chateau de Reaitee as her home. It was near Angers, that place where I had been betrothed to her son. Poor Margaret! I was sure she would pass her days in utter melancholy.
The king, his magnificent army intact, returned to England. He must have been feeling very pleased with himself. As far as I was concerned, I thought he had managed a very clever stroke of statesmanship, to have brought about peace without fighting, as well as making arrangements for trading and having acquired a pension.
But there were many who did not see it as I did Richard for one.
But during the next months he seemed to forget his disappointment.
The northern marches claimed his attention and that was where his heart was. He was happy to be away from the court; he loved to ride with the children and to watch our little one grow. There were times when he was called away to various parts of the northern territories, but he was never away for long and when he returned there were always happy reunions.
I was glad of my mother's company. We often spoke of our regret that Isabel was so far away. She wrote to us from time to time, as we did to her, and we would anxiously await news of little Margaret and Edward.
We heard that she was once more pregnant. I felt envious. I yearned to have another child. I continued to worry about my Edward's health, particularly as his half-brother and -sister seemed to grow every day. Edward was so small and thin; he tired far more easily than John who with his sister made such a healthy pair that they continually drew my attention to Edward's frailty.
Isabel wrote that she had not been well. That irritating cough had come back, as it did periodically. Perhaps she would be better when the baby was born. George was eager to have another boy, but to her it was of little importance: all she wanted was a healthy child.
"The queen has been most gracious," she wrote.
"She seems determined to be friendly. She has sent Ankarette Twynyho back to me. She said that Ankarette was so good with children and for ladies in my condition, so she would thank me for lending her and would send her back to be with me at such a time. I am pleased to have Ankarette with me. She is full of gossip and regales me with talk of the court and Madam Elizabeth herself who, it seems, is more regal than the king ever was. Ankarette says the Woodvilles run the court and the queen is always seeking higher and higher places even for the most insignificant members of her clan."
The Reluctant Queen Page 23