The Secret Diary of Eleanor Cobham

by Tony Riches

  We were in no doubt there was a conspiracy by the Bishop of London and others to conceal this scandal, particularly from Humphrey and parliament, as the couple were living secretly at the bishop’s palace in Much Hadham, Hertfordshire. The problem was how to deal with this knowledge. I begged Humphrey to let the matter pass and accept that the Dowager Queen had acted just as he had done with Countess Jacqueline. He had no wish to punish the queen in any way, as she was after all the mother of the king, yet Tudor had clearly shown a disregard for the Act of Parliament which Humphrey had taken the trouble to put in place.

  While this marriage remained secret, it seemed prudent to simply let the matter rest. It remained so for some years, during which time they had three sons and a daughter, then rumours began to circulate in London about the illicit marriage. We had always known it was a matter of time before the truth was revealed, as the queen had influential supporters. The scandal would also be of great interest to those in Cardinal Beaufort’s faction who were also opposed to Humphrey’s rise to power and always seeking ways to weaken his authority.

  At about the same time we heard from our informer in the queen’s household that Queen Catherine was unwell. She had taken to her bed and was showing worrying signs of the instability and delusions that had afflicted her father, King Charles VI of France. It seemed she would occasionally forget who she was or sometimes think she was still Queen of England. Our man understood from overheard conversations that, as a consequence of Catherine’s condition, Owen Tudor was now considering the future of his two eldest sons and planned to visit the king at Windsor Castle to ask for them to be recognised.

  The time for Humphrey to act decisively had finally come. On his orders, the queen’s husband Owen Tudor was arrested and brought to appear before the Council to explain his conduct. The hearing should have been a formality, as by marrying the Dowager Queen, Tudor had shown contempt for the ruling of parliament set out in the Act of Parliament. To Humphrey’s surprise, a majority of the members of Council were persuaded by the Welshman that he had not acted dishonourably and that surely Queen Catherine should be free to choose whom she should marry. He was released, acquitted of all charges.

  At first we suspected the devious hand of Cardinal Beaufort behind the Council’s decision. Humphrey privately accused him of an attempt to discredit his actions and received the shocking reply that it was the king himself who had directed the Council. This was impossible to disprove without drawing more attention to the matter but we knew if it was true it meant we risked incurring the king’s displeasure.

  I hoped the matter was ended and proposed we should accept the inevitable and publicly support the Dowager Queen’s marriage as legitimate. I should have known my husband better. He had taken Owen Tudor’s acquittal as a personal affront. Without concern for the consequences, Humphrey again sent armed men to track down and arrest Owen Tudor as he made his way back to Wales. This time he imprisoned Tudor without further trial in Newgate jail, seizing his possessions.

  We then faced the question of what to do about Queen Catherine, who was by then reported to be pregnant with yet another child. Humphrey arranged for her to be taken to Bermondsey Abbey for her own safety, where she could be under close observation by his own physician. It was soon after arriving at Bermondsey Abbey that she sadly lost the child and suffered complications which led to her death. Although he was innocent of any part in this, rumours began spreading in London that my husband precipitated the tragedy through his self-serving actions. Humphrey was dismissive of such talk, as he had personally ensured she was cared for as well as possible. There was nothing to be done about the rumour and gossip yet I knew it was the start of a shadow passing over us.

  Then we learned Owen Tudor had escaped from his cell in Newgate Prison and was now presumed to be somewhere in Wales. My husband was furious, as he knew Tudor must have had help from someone in Newgate. He sent all the men at his disposal in search of him and held an inquiry, which failed to identify Tudor’s accomplices. This time when Tudor was recaptured Humphrey would have imprisoned him in the Tower but was conscious that the whole business was potentially damaging to his own reputation. Humphrey instead had Tudor sent to Windsor Castle, where he remained in some comfort until the king was of age.

  We expected King Henry VI to grant a royal pardon to Owen Tudor at the year end, when he reached the age of sixteen, yet were surprised when the king took him into his own household, ordering the restoration of his goods and lands. The king also recognised Tudor’s two eldest sons as his half-brothers and his manner towards us changed. It was said he could not forgive my husband for such treatment of his late mother. Through no fault of his own, Humphrey had provided his enemies with the means to poison the mind of the king against him.

  Worse still for Humphrey and against his advice, the young king assumed personal control over parliament, creating a new council with Humphrey at the side of Cardinal Beaufort. Although he was awarded a salary of two thousand marks a year for life, it grieved him to see his power and influence eroded so greatly, as he was certain the cardinal had been behind the plan and now he must rely on his old enemy to secure any decisions.

  With this check on his political ambitions, my husband returned to the study of old manuscripts, which he had begun in his days at Oxford, and seemed content to spend long hours in his library. I was also content to devote myself to raising my children and reminding London society of our importance by arranging banquets and riding in splendour through the city, followed by Humphrey’s personal guard, all in their fine uniforms.

  The king continued to show me favour and had grown into a handsome young man, tall and slim, intelligent and sharp. He loved hunting and gaming and spending money on fine hats and gowns, yet he was not popular with the people, who rarely saw him. He had never shown the spirit of his father and could have accompanied Humphrey to the relief of Calais, yet chose instead to spend long hours at prayer in his personal chapel.

  Now dangerous rumours began to circulate in London as word spread about his late mother’s mental condition. I had been close to the king and on several occasions observed how he would sometimes become as if his mind was elsewhere. One moment he would seem to be listening then the next he would have a far-away look in his eyes. Thomas Southwell agreed it was possible the king could have inherited some form of madness from his mother’s French family.

  Such talk could, of course, be seen as treason, yet the truth of it was there for anyone who knew the king to see. It was only natural that people would start talking of the line of succession, and my husband was the heir apparent. Not for the first time I found I was dreaming of a day when Duke Humphrey could become king, with me proudly at his side as his queen.

  Many untruths have been told about that fateful day when we cast the king’s horoscope. It has been said that it was instigated by my friend Margery Jourdemayne. The good lady suffered greatly as a result of this allegation, yet I had not seen her for some months when I began wondering about the future of the king. Margery Jourdemayne might have been known as a witch but her talent was a good one, curing the sick with her herbal potions and helping the poor with innocent charms that gave them great comfort.

  I confess that I approached my friend and astrologer Roger Bolingbroke about the matter and I alone was guilty, if it was a crime to be curious about my future prospects. I knew King Henry V had not wished Queen Catherine to be confined at Windsor Castle because of a prophecy, that Henry born at Windsor shall long reign and all lose. I had no idea if this was true or a fanciful legend, yet the idea that Humphrey could one day be king often returned to my thoughts.

  It has been said that we chose to begin with my own horoscope, yet this was untrue. Like so many I regretfully had no record or knowledge of my date of birth, other than it was in the year 1400. My mother would of course have been able to tell me but she had taken the knowledge to her grave. My father was not able to help, as he could only recall that it had snowed the day I was bo
rn. He told me he had feared he would lose us both, as mine had been a difficult birth.

  I was present at Windsor Castle as lady-in-waiting to Countess Jacqueline, so I was able to clearly recall the excitement and commotion when King Henry was born in the late afternoon of the sixth of December, 1421. We were able to discover from official records the exact time of the king’s birth was at four minutes to four. This was the information we needed to produce the king’s astrological chart, although we were aware of the risks of doing so. As before, I decided it must be done in absolute secrecy, without even the knowledge of my husband.

  Roger Bolingbroke and I worked in the duke’s library, late one evening, when we were certain not to be disturbed. First he drew a circle, much as Friar Randolph had done in our London house. He carefully marked on it the symbols of the zodiac and, consulting his books of astrological tables, drew the position of the sun and moon and planets in relation to the zodiac, which made it possible to calculate the horoscope with precision for the time of the king’s birth.

  He drew a series of lines, explaining that the interpretation is best done from the simple to the more complex. The king’s horoscope revealed he was in Sagittarius, with one of his dominant planets being the sun. This, Roger told me, can indicate a sense of honour and dignity, with charismatic leadership qualities, yet also a weakness related to the sin of pride or to excessive authority. With Mercury among his dominant planets, the king’s weakness could lie in his nervousness to follow his instinct.

  The question of threats to the king’s well-being proved to be complex to determine. Roger Bolingbroke said it was impossible to indicate a death point in an astrological chart and anyone who suggested otherwise was a charlatan. A horoscope could reveal areas that put someone at risk, although this would be a subjective interpretation. I was intrigued to learn more. With so much resting on this knowledge I suggested we should consult with our friend Thomas Southwell. After much discussion, it seemed from the horoscope that the king could suffer a life-threatening illness. Although it was not possible to be certain of the date, the calculations indicated the summer of 1441.

  August 1451

  Carpe diem

  This is the warmest summer I can remember. The grass in the inner courtyard is parched from lack of rain and where there was once thick mud is now turned to a fine dust, which clings to my dress as I walk. My precious ink dries instantly on the page and the parchment feels almost brittle as my sharpened quill scrapes these coded words. I am grateful for the light breeze which comes through my window from the sea and, when I can, will return to my prayers in the chapel, the one place in this castle that remains cool despite the sun.

  I have often had reason to mention the long standing conflict between my husband and what he called ‘The Beaufort party’, led by Cardinal Henry Beaufort. Both such strong-minded men, the conflict between them caused us endless problems as the two sides could never reconcile their differences. The Beaufort family were a rising power in England, yet while Humphrey retained favour at Court they could not claim to have the most influence with the king. Then in the spring of 1440 their arguments came to the fore when Cardinal Beaufort decided it was time to agree terms for peace with France.

  Humphrey was one of the few who opposed this, not in anger against the cardinal’s change of heart or even because his brothers had given their lives to secure England’s position in the territories now being handed over so easily. I know he still yearned to be a Prince of Holland. Even yet, my husband signed his name with the titles Duke of Gloucester, Holland, Zealand and Brabant, Earl of Pembroke, Hainault and Flanders.

  He cautioned the king that some were imposing on his youth. Then he called for the cardinal to be removed from his post on the King’s Council, together with the Archbishop of York, who had also been made a cardinal by the pope. It was a test of who had most influence with the king and, unfortunately for us, the pious king supported the call for peace, not war.

  Humphrey took it badly, as his political future and status were now shown to be in rapid decline. It seemed our enemies had won after all. With little to lose, Humphrey decided to publicly challenge the cardinal, asking the questions which no one had dared put into words. Where had the great wealth of the cardinal come from? It was not from his religious offices and he had not inherited his fortune. Was it through the sale of favours and grants of land that were rightfully the property of the king?

  My husband also accused Cardinal Beaufort of arranging the marriage of his niece, Lady Joan Beaufort, to James of Scotland, then contriving his release without the authority of Parliament, illegally recovering his jewels when forfeited to the Crown. Humphrey produced damming evidence that the cardinal had also failed to pay the dues of his cathedral church at Winchester. The allegation was that Cardinal Beaufort had grown arrogant by ill-gotten gains and now acted not like a humble servant of the church but like royalty, effectively governing the kingdom.

  Looking back at the events of that dreadful year it seems we should have known the cardinal was a dangerous enemy who should never have been underestimated. He had already shown himself capable of the most unscrupulous acts, yet at the time Humphrey was angry with the cardinal and felt he still had enough power and influence in parliament and the royal court to put such questions and demand a response.

  The cardinal’s reply was unexpected. He called for the release of Duke Charles of Orleans, held by my father under an order from King Henry V that he was only to be released when his son had come of age and our domination of France was complete. Humphrey was outraged and protested most publicly that releasing the Duke of Orleans was against the wishes of his brother, the late king, and playing into the hands of the Duke of Burgundy. At last he aroused the popular support he wished for. The people could see the truth of his words and called for the king to act.

  I first learned the news from my husband. I found him in his library, where I saw he had been drinking a good quantity of his best wine. The ambitious, successful man I married was gone, replaced by a tired grey shadow of his former self, and I knew that once again our lives were going to change. I remember how he took my hand and kissed it, trying his best to smile. When he spoke, his voice carried a great sadness. He said it was too late. The king was already too far under the control of Cardinal Beaufort.

  He told me the king had issued a proclamation that he desired it to be understood the release of the Duke of Orleans was at his own initiative and no one else was responsible. We knew these were Cardinal Henry Beaufort’s words, yet there was nothing to be done. The king had asserted his wish to bring to an end to the war that had endured for over a hundred years. Duke Charles of Orleans was to swear an oath he would never take arms against England and would use his influence to remove the desire for war amongst those in power in France.

  I must confess I felt a sense of relief, rather than anger. It was far from the outcome my husband had hoped for, yet I was as tired of English politics as he was. It would have been good to see him triumph over his old enemy, and it pained me to see him looking so broken. He had worked hard as Lord Protector, always looking after the best interests of the king, for his entire life. Never once had he sought to profit from his position by taking money for favours, yet his reward for all this diligent service to the crown was to be publicly humiliated.

  For me, the king’s decision to side with Henry Beaufort was the final proof my experiments with the secret arts were futile. My mind had been turned by the wonderful gifts from the king, coming so soon afterwards. They were a clear sign that at the time I was already highly in his favour. My presents were even grander than gifts he gave to his own mother, yet there was no reason to connect them with the little effigies buried deep in a secret place at Windsor. I resolved that never again would I risk such experiments.

  Now I will write about the most wonderful yet saddest thing that has happened to me for the past ten years, while it is fresh in my memory. Lady Ellen was waiting for me at the entrance to the
chapel when I took my walk. I could see right away she had something of much importance to tell me and was carrying a small bundle. She dismissed my guards, who retreated a short distance and watched us with curious interest.

  Ellen turned to me. ‘I would like to repay you for making my son well again.’

  I shook my head. ‘You have already shown me great kindness.’

  ‘As a mother, I know how much you must miss your daughter.’

  I looked at her, trying to understand her smile. ‘Not a single day has passed that I don’t pray for her to be safe and well.’

  She took my hand in hers. ‘I have found your daughter.’

  I was shocked. ‘Antigone? Is she well?’

  ‘Yes, she is well. I wrote to her and asked if she can visit you.’

  I hardly dared ask my question. ‘Will Sir William permit it?’

  ‘I asked him as a favour. He was reluctant, which is how it has taken so long to arrange. I reminded him you have been here more than a year now and never given him trouble.’ Lady Ellen smiled again. ‘He is a good man, Eleanor.’

  I didn’t know how to thank Lady Ellen and her husband. ‘When can I see her?’

  ‘They arrived in Beaumaris yesterday.’ She saw my look and added, ‘Antigone travelled with her son, your grandson.’ She looked serious. ‘There is something else I need to tell you, Eleanor.’

  I sensed from her manner she had to tell me bad news. Had something happened to one of the children? Had my actions brought trouble on the last surviving members of our family?