Passage to Pontefract

by Виктория Холт

  Sad days had come to England and at such times it was natural to look for a scapegoat. The people had looked and found one. His name was John of Gaunt.

  In his Palace of Berkhamsted the Black Prince was often confined to his chamber and there he fretted about what was happening at Court.

  Joan was growing more and more anxious about the state of affairs. Even her optimism was beginning to wane. She could no longer deceive herself that the Prince’s health was improving. As he grew older the attacks were becoming not only more frequent but more virulent. There was one consolation. As time passed Richard was growing older. He was now nine years old; she thanked God that he was clever and had such a good mentor as Sir Simon Burley who was so obviously devoted to him.

  The Prince talked to her constantly about the state of the country. His great fear – as hers was too – was what would become of Richard if his grandfather and father were to die and he become King.

  ‘While I live,’ said the Prince, ‘feeble as I am, I can still look after him.’

  ‘The people are with you.’

  ‘Yes, the people have always been faithful. But, Joan, I fear my brother.’

  ‘John has always been the most ambitious of you all, but I cannot believe he would harm Richard.’

  ‘He might not try to take his place on the throne. The people would never agree to that and John knows it. What he will seek to do – as he is doing now – is to become my father’s chief adviser. The Parliament consists of those who are working for him; he has agreed to tolerate Alice Perrers, even make a friend of her. My dear Joan, any who can do that is to be suspected.’

  ‘I know. If only you were well how different everything would be.’

  ‘Had I been well, Joan, we should never have suffered such losses in France; England would be as strong as she was in my father’s heyday. I must go to Westminster. I cannot lie here and see my brother take over the government of this country.’

  She knew it was no use trying to dissuade him.

  ‘You must wait a few days,’ she insisted, ‘and we will try and get you ready for the ordeal.’

  At length he agreed to wait and so determined was he to go that in a few days his health did improve enough for him to make the journey.

  * * *

  Richard was fully aware of the tensions all round him and it was particularly disturbing to know that he was concerned in them. He was very much aware of his father’s anxious eyes which seemed to follow him whenever they were together. The King would make him sit by his chair or by his bed and would talk to him of the responsibilities of kingship.

  It was very necessary always to keep the affection of the people. One must never forget that one was a king. Always the dignity of the throne must be preserved. The country must come first; a king must serve it even though it meant hardship and unselfish devotion.

  Richard was beginning to think that kings did not have a very good time.

  He broached the matter with Sir Simon Burley whom, next to his mother, he loved best in the world.

  ‘If the life of a king is such a hard one, sacrificing all the time and doing not what he wants but what others want him to do, why do so many people want to be a king?’

  ‘It is because of power. A king is the head of the state. He has greater power than anyone else …’

  Richard’s eyes began to shine with excitement and Simon said quickly: ‘He can lose it quickly if he does not use it wisely.’

  ‘How will he know what is wisely?’

  ‘His conscience will tell him and also his ministers.’

  ‘Is my grandfather wise?’

  Simon was silent for a few seconds and he was conscious of Richard’s awareness of the silence, Richard was very sharp. It was a good sign. He was a clever boy. He would make a good king.

  ‘Your grandfather was the most brilliant monarch in Europe.’

  ‘Was?’ said Richard quickly. ‘Was, did you say, Simon?’

  ‘Your grandfather is now an old man. He is surrounded by people who may not be as wise as we could wish.’

  ‘Like Alice Perrers?’

  ‘What do you know of her?’

  ‘I listen, Simon. I always listened. I learn more by listening and piecing the information together. Yes, I learn more that way because when you or my mother or my father tell me what it seems good for me to know, you don’t tell all … and unless I know everything it is not always easy for very often the important bits are those which are left out.’

  ‘My lord,’ said Simon, ‘I know this. You profit from your books.’

  ‘I love my books because with them I can do well. I do not love outdoor sports in the same way because there will always be those about me, who without much effort can do better than I. We like that at which we excel.’

  ‘We do indeed and right glad am I that you learn so quickly.’

  Richard was watching his tutor intently. He knew that he was coming to the conclusion that Richard’s tender years should be forgotten. It must be remembered that here was a clever boy who might within a year or so be the King of England.

  He said soberly: ‘The kingdom has come to a sorry state. Not so long ago we were progressing to such prosperity as we had not known before but a series of mishaps befell us. The chief of those was the Black Death which carried off more than half of our people. Can you imagine what it was like when this scourge descended on us? There were not enough men left to till the fields; those who could do it demanded such high payment as it was impossible to give. Your grandfather was strong in those days. He set the country working in good order again – but we could never make up for all those we had lost. Then there was the French war – which took our men and our treasure. The people grow restive when taxes are high. They see their hard-earned money going on the battlefields of France. The King has grown old …’

  ‘And,’ put in Richard, ‘surrounds himself with unwise counsellors.’

  ‘We must always guard our tongues, my lord.’

  ‘Never fear, Simon, I shall guard mine until such time as I may safely use it.’

  ‘Your father who was a great strong man is stricken by illness. The people had looked to him as their next king. There is a great melancholy in the country because of your father’s illness.’

  ‘He is going to die, Simon.’

  Simon did not answer. It was no use offering this bright boy lies.

  ‘And when he dies and my grandfather dies … I shall be King.’

  ‘That may well be some years yet. I pray God it will be.’

  ‘Why, Simon? If my grandfather is surrounded by unwise counsellors it is better for him to die.’

  ‘You talk too glibly of death, my lord. It is for God to decide.’

  ‘He decided to send the Black Death so you never know what evil will come through Him.’

  ‘We must accept what He sends as best for us. He sends great mercy too.’

  ‘He took my brother Edward. He did that suddenly. They were not expecting Edward to die. If he had not died he would have been the King.’

  ‘We must accept God’s ways,’ said Simon.

  ‘It would be better,’ replied Richard, ‘if we could understand them. The people want my father, do they not. Whereever he goes they shout for him. They love him dearly.’

  ‘He is a great hero … a great Prince.’

  ‘They like his name. They like Edwards.’

  ‘There was one Edward they did not like.’

  ‘Oh yes, my great-grandfather. They hated him and he was an Edward. Perhaps they will not mind a Richard after all.’

  ‘My lord, my lord, a name is of no importance. When the time comes you will show them that a Richard can be the best King they have ever had.’

  The boy stood up suddenly, his eyes shining. ‘I will. Simon, I will.’

  ‘God bless you,’ murmured Simon.

  * * *

  The Black Prince was carried in his litter from Berkhamsted to London.

  When the peopl
e heard that he was on his way they thronged the streets to welcome him.

  He was glad he was in his litter so that they could not see how swollen his body was with the dropsy which persisted and which had killed his mother. He smiled as he acknowledged their cheers and tried to look as though he were not in pain. Indeed, the exhilaration of their affection for him comforted him so much that he felt better for it.

  He first went to the King. A sorry sight. He himself had to be carried in. What have we come to the Prince asked himself. Great Edward and his mighty son, the Black Prince, two decrepit old men, their glory long past. Are these the heroes who made Frenchmen tremble at their approach? If they could see us now, they would snap their fingers at us. They would be very saucy. And they had been. They had shown what they thought of an England which had lost its mighty leaders.

  The King’s eyes were full of tears as he beheld his son.

  ‘I thank God,’ he said, ‘that your mother is not alive to see us thus.’

  ‘I thank God she is not alive to see who has usurped her place beside you.’

  The Prince had always spoken frankly, and what had he to lose now?

  ‘Alice is my only comfort in these sad days,’ said the King.

  ‘My lord, when comfort has to be so dearly bought it is oft-times better to do without it.’

  The King sighed and looked pathetic. ‘John understands,’ he said. ‘He and Alice are good friends now.’

  ‘And for a clear reason,’ said the Prince. ‘John it seems would be the friend of the devil if by so doing he could advance his ambition.’

  ‘My son, let us talk of more pleasant matters.’

  ‘We must talk of England, my lord. And that I’ll grant you is not the pleasant matter it once was.’

  ‘The old days … I think of them constantly. Do you know, Edward, sometimes I lie abed and I think I am young again … on the field. I’ll never forget Crécy. Oh what joy you gave me then.’

  ‘Past glories, my lord. They are behind us. What is to be done now? That is what I have come to ask. There are stories of bribery and corruption throughout the Court. Your leman Alice Perrers has dared to appear on the bench at Westminster and tell the judges how to act, which depends on what bribe she has received from the prisoner or his friends.’

  ‘Alice is a clever minx,’ said the King fondly.

  ‘My lord, think back, think to those days when you were a lion among your people. You would never have allowed such anomalies then. For God’s sake, Father, stop it before it is too late!’

  ‘If you have come here to try to persuade me to give up my only comfort in life you must go away, Edward.’

  ‘Your comfort! The whole country is appalled by your lechery.’

  ‘How dare you speak to me thus. I am your King!’

  ‘I will say what I feel. I am the heir to the throne and I will not see it sent tottering by imbecility and lechery.’

  ‘You must leave me, Edward. I had thought you had come to comfort me.’

  ‘There is only one comfort for you … so you have told me. This harlot is the one who knows how to provide it. What a confession for a great King to make! To think that you … you were once held up to me as a shining example of all that was great and noble in kingship … to think that you have come to this!’

  The King was in tears. Poor senile old man! And the pain in the Prince’s body was beginning to throb, and torture him unbearably.

  ‘You must see John,’ muttered the King. ‘He will talk to you.’

  The Prince shouted for his servants.

  ‘Take me to my apartments,’ he said. And he was thinking: No, I will not see John. I will see those who will help me to stifle John’s ambitions.

  * * *

  The Prince summoned Sir Peter de la Mare, the Speaker of the House of Commons, to his apartments in the palace and as soon as he arrived he came immediately to the point.

  ‘I have travelled from the country at great discomfort,’ said the Prince, ‘because I am suffering much disquiet at the manner in which the affairs of this country are being conducted. I am convinced that there are a few good men who deplore this state of affairs even as I do.’

  ‘That is so, my lord.’

  ‘You need not hesitate to speak frankly to me because what you have to say might be disloyal to members of my family,’ went on the Prince. ‘Speak freely. Nothing you say shall be held against you and it would seem to me that on certain matters men such as you think as I do. But let us say this: It grows late but it may not be too late.’

  ‘Since you ask me, my lord Prince, to speak frankly, so will I do. The country is being ruined and the chief enemy is the King’s mistress. She has introduced bribery and corruption into the Court. She is an evil woman and no good can come to this country while she remains at the King’s side.’

  ‘And the Duke of Lancaster?’

  De la Mare hesitated. It was one thing to speak against the King’s mistress but to speak against his son was quite different.

  ‘Come,’ said the Prince, ‘I have asked you to speak frankly.’

  ‘The Duke of Lancaster has become the friend of Alice Perrers, my lord, for the purpose I am sure of gaining influence with the King.’

  The Prince nodded. ‘I see that we understand each other. My lord, we must act with speed. Would you be prepared to do so?’

  ‘With you behind me, my lord, yes, I would.’

  ‘Then you must move Parliament to act.’

  ‘That would not be difficult. The country is restive on account of excessive taxation and when it is considered that much of what is taken from them is bestowed on Alice Perrers, they are ready to revolt.’

  ‘Then go to it!’ said the Prince. ‘I see no reason why Alice Perrers should not be dismissed.’

  ‘There is Latimer, the King’s Chamberlain. He works closely for your brother. He is also responsible for the growth of bribery about the Court. I fear that nothing much can be done while he holds his position.’

  ‘Then Latimer must be deprived of his office. Summon the Parliament and attend to these matters.’

  ‘It means that we are going against John of Gaunt.’

  ‘It means that you are standing with the Black Prince.’

  ‘When they know that you are with them, my lord, methinks that will decide them.’

  Sir Peter de la Mare left the Prince and went with all haste to his home that he might prepare his speech to the House of Commons.

  The Prince lay on his bed. The pain had returned in full force. He was even more tormented by his thoughts.

  Conflict in the family. It was always unwise, and now that the country was so weak it was a danger.

  He had always known John was ambitious. What did he want?

  The crown! Of course he wanted a crown. He had married Constanza of Castile for one and it was hardly likely that he would ever get it. No, his eyes were on the crown of England. And that was going to be planted firmly on the head of little Richard.

  Oh God, prayed the Prince, let me live long enough to see my son safely come into his own.

  * * *

  Sir Peter de la Mare’s speech caused an uproar in the House of Commons. He was an eloquent man which was why he had risen to his present post and he was expressing sentiments which were applauded by the majority of them – those who were not the close friends and supporters of John of Gaunt.

  The Black Prince was behind them. De la Mare had made that clear. The Prince might be a sick man but he was still a power in the land.

  His first attack was on the King’s mistress. He wanted her banished from Court. He knew that the House was with him as regarded this woman; there was one other who must be removed – and indeed perhaps impeached – and that was the King’s Chamberlain who was guilty of bribery among other misfeasances. This brought storms of applause.

  The Commons was hopeful. The rot was about to be stopped. They all knew that there was one powerful man who might stand in their way. The Duke of La
ncaster. But they had the backing of his elder brother. The Black Prince still lived and from his sick bed he was going to bring the country back to reason and prosperity.

  * * *

  Riding to his Palace of the Savoy, thinking of the welcome that awaited him there, John was a happy man. Catherine was installed as his mistress and the governess of his children. There was a nursery full now. Her own four little Beauforts as she called them – she had a daughter Joan as well as the three boys – the most loved of all the children because they were her own. Then there were Philippa and Elizabeth, Blanche’s girls, and of course young Henry, his heir, and the most important of them all in the eyes of the world of course. Constanza’s girl Catherine was with her mother but Swynford’s son and daughter, Thomas and Blanche, had joined them now because Catherine had wanted them there, which was natural. He could never really like them because they were Swynford’s he supposed, but the boy was bright and handsome and the girl attractive as was to be expected of any child of Catherine’s.

  He was more satisfied than he had been for some time. His triumph at home had grown since he had overcome his repugnance for Alice Perrers and had shown the King that he was ready to accept her in exchange for his confidence. From then on it had been easy. He had his friends such as Lord Latimer and other influential men in Parliament. If the King were to die and the Prince with him, and Richard became King, it would be his uncle, John of Gaunt, who would be the real ruler.

  Success at home had wiped out the sour taste of defeat abroad. He never wanted to go back to Bordeaux as long as he lived.

  No, what he wanted was England. He did not now want the crown of Castile, that glittering bauble which had proved to be so unattainable. He wanted what he always had wanted, the crown of England. And with a young boy on the throne and himself guiding the country’s policy he would be its virtual ruler.

  Once the King was dead Alice could be dismissed. That would make everything so much easier. And how long could the King live? How long the Black Prince?