Passage to Pontefract

by Виктория Холт

  His eyes were soft at the sight of her. She was such a beautiful child and it was sad that one so young must leave her home.

  He raised her up and seating himself drew her close to him. She studied him, fascinated as she always was by the strangeness in his eyes. Sometimes they looked wild as though he were seeing things which were invisible to others. Today however, they were less wild. He was looking at her and seeing her and, she guessed, thinking how beautiful she was.

  ‘Daughter,’ he said, ‘the time has come for you to leave us. Your mother and I have decided that it is best for you. We do not want to lose you, but …’

  She nodded gravely. She looked at her mother who was said to be the most beautiful woman in France, and people said that she, Isabelle, closely resembled the Queen.

  ‘All Princesses leave their homes in time. Many of them then become great ladies.’

  Her eyes widened. She would enjoy being a great lady she was sure.

  ‘The King of England wants to marry you.’

  ‘I shall wear a crown,’ she said, and she pictured herself with the golden circlet on her flowing dark hair. She would look very like her mother then.

  ‘It means you will go to England.’

  ‘When shall I go?’ she asked.

  Her mother said: ‘That is a matter which we shall have to decide when we have consulted with the English. We shall miss you sorely, Isabelle.’

  ‘Yes, my lady, and I shall miss you.’

  It was amazing, thought the King, how very calm the child was. One might have expected tears. But Isabelle was thinking of her golden crown rather than the parting with her parents.

  Of course, she was very young.

  ‘The King of England has sent his ambassadors to us,’ said her father. ‘You understand, my child, that there has been great conflict between our countries.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Isabelle. ‘The King of England wants your crown.’

  ‘This King – the one who will be your husband – is different from his father and his grandfather. He is a lover of peace. When you are married to him that will be a reason for keeping the peace. He will not wish to fight against his own father.’

  ‘Shall you be his father then?’

  ‘His father-in-law as they call it.’

  ‘And I shall be the Queen.’

  The King looked at his wife and said: ‘I think the English could be brought in now. She is very composed and will know how to behave.’

  She watched with wonder as the men came in. They looked very splendid and one of them came forward and knelt before her.

  ‘Madam,’ he said, ‘if it please God, you shall be our lady and our Queen.’

  There was a moment’s silence. Her parents were watching her.

  Then she said: ‘Sir, if it please God and my lord father that I be Queen of England, I shall be pleased thereat, for I have been told that I shall then be a great lady. Pray rise that I may conduct you to my mother.’

  Queen Isabeau was beaming with pride and pleasure. Her daughter was indeed a credit to her and her upbringing. The English could not fail to be impressed.

  * * *

  Richard was gratified. He was to have the little Isabelle as his bride and this delighted him. He had to have a wife and there was no one who could take Anne’s place in his heart; but it would please him to have this little girl – who was charming by all accounts – and to bring her up in the English tradition. In due course she would be his wife and perhaps by that time he would be prepared to live with her.

  He had never been greatly attracted by women. It was true he had been devoted to Anne; but Anne had been a beloved companion, a helpmeet, one whom he could trust absolutely. That was different; and perhaps it explained why the idea of a child wife with whom there could be no physical relationship for some years appealed to him.

  He sent word to his uncles, Lancaster and Gloucester. They were to accompany him with their wives to France. The foremost men in the country – among them Arundel – received the same summons.

  The Countess of Arundel was thoughtful when she heard that she was to prepare to go to France with her husband for the King’s marriage.

  ‘Richard will have summoned all the most noble in the land,’ she said.

  ‘He will want to make a display,’ replied her husband. ‘You know what he is. He will expect us all to dazzle the French.’

  ‘Lancaster will be there, of course.’

  ‘My dear, Lancaster could not fail to be there. He is the leading noble, second only to the King.’

  ‘And,’ went on the Countess, ‘if Richard has summoned the wives as well, can that mean that woman will be there?’

  ‘Richard accepts her.’

  ‘Richard!’ spat out the Countess. ‘He is very foolish sometimes.’

  ‘Sometimes?’ replied Arundel with a laugh. ‘Often times, I would say.’

  ‘And never more so if he invites that woman to attend the ceremony.’

  ‘Lancaster married her.’

  ‘After she had been his mistress for how long was it … for twenty years?’

  ‘It shows his regard for her.’

  ‘And his lack of regard for the rest of us! I shall show her no friendship. In fact I shall refuse to speak to her.’

  ‘You will arouse Lancaster’s wrath if you do.’

  ‘Lancaster! What of Lancaster? Whatever he touches he fails in. He only settled the Castile question by marrying his daughter to the heir. I take little count of Lancaster.’

  ‘Perhaps I take more, my dear. He is a very powerful man.’

  ‘And are we not powerful? Were you not the victor of the sea battle off Margate which crippled the French and made England safe for the English? As for myself I am descended from royalty and not very far from the throne. I can tell you this, husband, I shall have nothing whatsoever to do with that woman.’

  ‘Lancaster is also near the throne, my dear. Let us remember that.’

  ‘I remember this. I will not have anything to do with that woman Lancaster has made his wife. Lancaster should be ashamed to bring her with him. Who is she, anyway? A low-born slut. Daughter of a knight, they say. A Flemish knight. Knighted on the battlefield. And when she was married to Hugh Swynford … some country hobbledehoy … she was Lancaster’s mistress and has a string of bastards to prove it.’

  ‘You are right, my dear. You are indeed right. But let us remember the power of Lancaster.’

  ‘You may remember,’ said the forceful Countess. ‘I shall never allow that woman to come near me.’

  * * *

  Richard was happier than he had been since the death of Anne. He could feel really excited about the ceremonies which lay ahead. They should be lavish in the extreme and there was nothing that pleased him more than accumulating a sparkling wardrobe. He spent hours with his tailors. It became a matter of burning importance whether a girdle should be decorated with rubies or sapphires. At the same time he could be pleased at the prospect. A marriage with France could bring nothing but good.

  Peace! That was what he had always wanted. If only his grandfather and father had been of like mind so much hardship might have been avoided. No, it was a much happier state of affairs to have a wedding rather than a battle – and wiser too.

  He was at Eltham – a palace he dearly loved. There he could enjoy the clean Kentish air and from the royal apartments which were almost one hundred feet above sea level he could look out from the turrets across the moat and the fields to the walls of the city and see the dome of St Paul’s reaching for the sky.

  Here they were gathered together. Lancaster had arrived with his new Duchess, a very beautiful woman – no longer young, but then nor was Lancaster – and she was one who would remain beautiful until she died.

  Richard had met her before and had liked her from the first. It was ridiculous for people to compare her with Alice Perrers – that harpy who had tarnished his grandfather’s reputation in the last years of his life. Catherine Swynford was
discreet, well mannered, all that he would ask from a lady of his Court; and he trusted she would be a good influence on Lancaster, which he was sure she would.

  Catherine herself was feeling a little disturbed. It was the first great occasion which she had attended as the Duchess of Lancaster, for although John had often taken her with him to ceremonies, they had never before been such as this.

  The King received her courteously and told her that it pleased him that she should be a member of the party. He told her about his little bride and how he wanted the ladies of the Court to be especially gentle with her.

  ‘She is only a child,’ he said. ‘But, I hear, very self-possessed. I want her to like us and our English ways.’

  ‘My lord, I shall be delighted to do what I can to make her feel at home. I know something of children. I have several of my own and I was in charge of the Duke’s children when they were young.’

  ‘I know it,’ said the King. ‘And I know this too. They love you well. We will talk more of this later.’

  Richard had rarely seen his uncle John so pleased with him. It was, of course, because of the way he had received his wife.

  John was watchful, Richard noticed with amusement. It would go ill with any who attempted to slight his Duchess.

  The Duchess of Gloucester and the Countess of Arundel came to pay their respects to the King.

  He disliked both of them. The Duchess of Gloucester, Eleanor Bohun, was not a very attractive woman, most unlike her sister, whom John had married to his son Bolingbroke. Poor girl, she had died about the same time as Anne had. Worn out with childbearing they said – and only in her twenties. None could say that of his beloved Anne. It was a pity though that they had not had even one child.

  Richard had seen Eleanor Bohun’s eyes on him when he was chatting with the Duchess of Lancaster. She had been disapproving. There was nothing Richard disliked more than people disapproving of him. He had had enough of that already to last him a lifetime.

  And there was the Countess of Arundel – another disagreeable woman and one whom he disliked heartily. For one thing she should never have married Arundel without his consent. And she gave herself too many airs and graces because she was descended from his uncle Lionel.

  He was cool to them both.

  They turned away. A pity they had to come with the party, thought Richard. But of course he could not tell two of the most important men in the country that he would prefer not to receive their wives.

  Richard noticed it happen and he was not the only one. The Duchess of Gloucester and the Countess of Arundel were standing close to the Duchess of Lancaster, and Catherine had turned to them. Some words were spoken, but the two women looked right past her.

  The Countess of Arundel said in a very loud voice which could be heard distinctly: ‘Is it not strange – the people who come to Court in these times. I have always maintained that harlots should be kept in their own quarters.’

  The Duchess of Lancaster had turned and was speaking to someone else as though she had either not heard the words or could not imagine that they applied to her.

  The Duke, who had heard, went swiftly to her side. There was a moment when all watching thought some trouble might break out.

  If it had been Gloucester instead of Lancaster there could have been violence; but John of Gaunt had always been one to think before he acted.

  He could not in any case challenge the two women to a duel.

  He put his arm through that of his Duchess. Like her he was pretending that what had been said did not concern them; and at the same time he was showing all that this lady was his Duchess and he was going to see that she was treated as such.

  Richard watching thought: Lancaster will not forget this. Both Gloucester and Arundel should beware.

  * * *

  The royal party crossed to Calais.

  Gloucester was fuming. He scarcely listened to his wife’s complaints about the presence of the Duchess of Lancaster.

  He had wanted his daughter to be the Queen of England.

  He was making a great deal of trouble, for in his usual overbearing bullying manner he did not hesitate to make his opinions known.

  Peace with France! France was a rich country. There was much treasure there. They had a right to it. They were going to give all that away, were they? For what reason? So that they could bring a little girl to England who was too young to be a wife to the King. It was all such nonsense and he for one was against it.

  Richard was afraid that his uncle would offend the French and to quieten him he said that if he would keep the peace he should have fifty thousand nobles when he returned home and his son Humphrey should be created Earl of Rochester. This offer was so wildly generous that Gloucester was first amazed and then placated and ceased to make trouble.

  Meanwhile there was a distinct coolness between Lancaster and Gloucester and Arundel. Lancaster saw that his wife was treated with respect by all others; and although some of them would have liked to show their disapproval they dared not.

  The time had arrived when Richard was to come face to face with Charles of France. The enemies were to become friends and tents had been set up in a field outside Calais as the scene of their ceremonial meeting.

  Four hundred English knights and as many French, all in glittering armour, stood with their swords drawn making two ranks through which the Kings with their attendants should pass. On either side of Richard were his uncles Lancaster and Gloucester and on either side of the King of France were the Dukes of Berri and Burgundy, the uncles of the French King.

  Richard felt a glimmer of amusement which he could have shared with Anne or with Robert de Vere had they been with him. For it was ironical that both the Kings of France and England, coming to the throne when they were very young, should both have been plagued by uncles.

  There was a shout of jubilation from the assembled knights as the two Kings with bared heads met and embraced.

  Then the King of France took Richard by the hand and the two French Dukes took the two English ones also by the hand and they entered the tent of the French King.

  Inside the tent the Dukes of Orleans and Bourbon were waiting to receive the party. They fell to their knees and remained there until bidden to rise by the Kings. Wines and comfits were served by the Dukes who knelt as they proffered the boxes and goblets to their Kings.

  After this the whole company assembled for dinner, the two Kings seated at the high table alone with the rest of the company below them.

  The King of France declared his pleasure in the alliance and said he was only sorry that the bride was not older.

  ‘My good father-in-law,’ replied Richard, ‘the age of our wife pleases us right well. We pay not great attention respecting age as we value your love, for we shall now be strongly united and no one in Christendom can in any way harm us now.’

  The King of France expressed his gratification at what had been brought about; and then the moment had come for the little bride to appear.

  She came into the tent accompanied by a company of highly born French ladies among whom was the Lady de Couci.

  Richard looked with delight at his little bride. She was all that had been said of her. She was dainty, beautiful, bright-eyed and she charmed him completely. He could not hide his pleasure in her. Her father had gone to her and taken her by the hand.

  He led her to Richard who in turn took her hand and kissed it. They smiled at each other and it was clear that she liked him as much as he liked her.

  The ceremony of handing over the bride being completed there was no reason for delay.

  A magnificent litter had been prepared to carry the little Queen to Calais; and she left behind all her attendants with the exception of the Lady de Couci and attended by the Duchesses of Lancaster and Gloucester she prepared to make her journey into the town of Calais.

  A few days later the marriage was celebrated in the Church of St Nicholas, the Archbishop of Canterbury having come to Calais to officiate.<
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  Isabelle was delighted. She had noticed that they had changed her name slightly giving her the English version Isabella. That amused her. Everyone was delighted with her, and she thought Richard the most wonderful husband a girl could have. His hair glistened like gold and he looked so beautiful in his crown. When he spoke to her his voice was soft and gentle and he was always smiling as though he thought her very amusing and he showed in a hundred ways that he was delighted to have her as his bride. She was already fond of the Lady de Couci and she had taken a great fancy to the Duchess of Lancaster. She liked beautiful people. She disliked the Duchess of Gloucester who was ugly and she did not like the Countess of Arundel. She sensed that they were trying to be unkind to the Duchess of Lancaster and without knowing what they could have quarrelled about – for she was sure they had quarrelled – she was on the side of the Duchess of Lancaster.

  It was all very exciting. The marriage, the celebrations, the meeting once more with the King and Queen of France at St Omer before boarding the ship and crossing the Channel to her new country.

  She stood on deck with Richard beside her and he pointed out to her the white cliffs of Dover.

  ‘There is the castle,’ he said. ‘Mine and yours now.’

  He said she was a brave girl. She had shed no tears for her old home. Why was that?

  She answered promptly: ‘Because I am going to like my new one better.’

  He laughed. ‘Do you know,’ he said, ‘I thought I should have to comfort a homesick little girl. But not my Isabella.’

  She put her hand in his. ‘This will be my home,’ she said; and there was a deep satisfaction in her voice for she believed that they were going to indulge her in her new country even more than they had in her old.

  She was enchanted by Dover Castle; and the next day they went on to Rochester. In a short time they reached the palace of Eltham and there the nobles who had come to France said farewell and went their own ways.

  She took the hand of the Duchess of Lancaster and said: ‘I shall see you again.’