The Star of Lancaster

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by Jean Plaidy


  He was ruthless. She knew that. But he was a man . . . every inch of him; and she was gratified to have him as her husband.

  When she had ridden out beside him she had been thrilled; when his eyes had sought hers in an assembly her heart leaped with pleasure. There could be no doubt of the love between them.

  He was going away again. She could pout and express her displeasure but he took no notice. His presence was needed in France.

  ‘And you will not be here for the birth of the child,’ she complained.

  ‘You will bear it without me,’ he said.

  ‘Then as soon as I am able to I shall come to you. You will not be able to prevent that.’

  He laughed at her. ‘It may well be that I have no wish to,’ he answered.

  She was amused when he began to have suspicions about the birth of the child.

  He had been listening to astrologers.

  ‘There is a cloud over Windsor,’ he said. ‘They predict it will be there in December. Katherine, our child must not be born in Windsor. It is an ill omen.’

  ‘Stop here and make sure it is not born there.’

  He laughed again and kissed her.

  But all the same he had gone away to war.

  And now here she lay . . . in Windsor. He would not stay with her while her child was born. Very well, she would deliberately disobey him.

  He would not be angry; once the child was born he would forget its birthplace.

  It was a magnificent castle; fitted to be the birthplace of Kings. She wanted a boy – a King to follow Henry. It was what they both wanted. And why should it not be born in Windsor?

  Henry’s favourite ancestor, Edward the Third, had been born here. They had called him Edward of Windsor, and if she had a son she would call him after his father. He should be Henry of Windsor.

  And so she was brought to bed and in due course her son was born.

  She called him Henry after his father.

  ‘A plague on their prophecies, my son,’ she said. ‘My little Henry the Sixth, you are going to be another such as your father.’

  When the news was brought to Henry he was filled with delight. A son! Was that not what every King desired? He had his fair and passionate Katherine and how like her to add to her perfections by giving him a son!

  ‘The Queen insists on calling him Henry,’ he was told.

  ‘That does not displease me,’ he said with a smile. ‘Long live our young Henry the Sixth.’

  ‘And may he not come to the throne for many a long year, my lord.’

  The King was silent suddenly. He said: ‘Where was he born?’

  They hesitated to tell him knowing his uneasy feelings.

  When he would have it from them he turned white – not with anger but with fear.

  Then he said slowly as though someone else was speaking through him:

  ‘Henry born at Monmouth

  Shall small time reign and much get

  But Henry of Windsor shall long reign and lose all.’

  He looked with astonishment at those who surrounded him.

  And then he added: ‘But as God will, so be it.’

  ‘My lord,’ said his brother Gloucester. ‘Are you well?’

  Henry put his hand to his brow. ‘A strangeness came over me,’ he said. ‘It was the news that the boy had been born at Windsor. I asked the Queen not to lie-in there.’

  ‘Windsor, my lord? It is a right fitting place for the birth of a Prince.’

  Henry clapped his brother on the shoulder. ‘You are right, brother. What matters it? A fine boy, eh. And a Henry.’

  Six months after the birth, Katherine prevailed on Henry to allow her to join him. The baby was left in the care of his nurses and she set out, accompanied by the Duke of Bedford and an army of twenty thousand.

  Thus as a queen should she travelled across France sending messengers on in advance to tell her husband of her coming.

  When Henry heard that she had arrived in France he was filled with mingling joy and dismay. For some months he had been feeling ill and he could not forget how rapidly his father had been attacked by disease.

  His was not an illness of disfiguration. He was suffering from the dysentery which he had seen ruin so many of his soldiers. It left him limp and exhausted. He was advised to rest but he would not do so, assuring himself that he would throw off the indisposition which he refused to believe was anything but temporary.

  He sent to the Queen to tell her of her daughter’s arrival and as the King was enjoying one of his lucid periods the two of them joined Henry and rode with him to meet their daughter.

  Katherine was shocked to see the change in Henry and declared that it was time she came to him for it was clear that he needed looking after. He smiled wanly, and declared that he had far too much to do to become an invalid.

  They travelled on to Senlis and there Katherine insisted that he rest.

  ‘Nay,’ he answered, ‘I cannot rest. Nor can I dally with you, sweetheart. Your brother, who calls himself the Dauphin, is about to battle with my ally the Duke of Burgundy. I know Burgundy expects and needs my help.’

  ‘Forget it for a while,’ pleaded Katherine. ‘The doctors say you need to rest.’

  He smiled at her. ‘You are a temptress, my dear Queen, but I am not to be lured from my duty.’

  ‘When do you leave Senlis?’

  ‘At dawn,’ he said. ‘Come, let us retire now. The night is too short.’

  So they retired but during the night he became very ill and she knew that he could not travel at dawn. He fought off the lassitude which overtook him and called for his armour.

  Although he could scarcely stand he was dressed and ready to ride out, and set out at the head of his men for Melun, while the Queen went back to Rouen.

  But as he neared Melun it was borne home even to him that he could go no further. It was no use pretending that nothing was wrong.

  They prepared a litter for him and he was taken back to Senlis.

  Henry knew that there was little time left to him. He believed he had displeased God in some way for he was only thirty-five years old. It was young to die and his work not completed. He had come further than any English King before him. He had been himself a greater warrior even than Edward the First and Edward the Third. His people loved him; the crown of France was almost in his grasp and now he was to die.

  His conscience smote him. He had caused his father great anxiety. In his youth he had lived without thought of anything but his own pleasure. John Oldcastle had expiated his past follies; he had died a martyr. But he, the King, what had he done? He had all but won France but for some divine reason he was not going to be allowed to complete the task.

  He wanted to ask forgiveness of all those he had wronged. He wanted to know where he had failed.

  He remembered his stepmother suddenly. Joanna who had been accused of witchcraft – not because there was any evidence against her but because he needed her money to help prosecute the war.

  He must make amends. He must do it at once while there was time left to him.

  All must be restored to her.

  He sent for his scribe. He must write as dictated. All must be restored to Queen Joanna and she must be released from captivity. He knew that she had been wrongfully accused.

  ‘Let that be done without delay,’ he commanded.

  He felt better after that.

  He sent for his doctors. ‘Tell me, am I dying?’ he asked.

  ‘There is always hope, my lord,’ they answered.

  ‘I want the truth,’ he answered. ‘Do not think to spare me. I want to know how much time is left to me.’

  ‘Sire,’ was the answer, ‘you must think of your soul for unless it is the will of God to decree otherwise you cannot live for more than two hours.’

  Two hours, he mused. Only two hours left to me. What of my son . . . a baby still? ‘Send my brother. Send my uncle Exeter.’

  They came and stood by his bedside.


  ‘John,’ he said, ‘you have been a good brother to me. Be as good a friend to my son as you have been to me.’

  ‘I will,’ said Bedford.

  ‘And my good uncle of Exeter. You must be Regent of England and guardian to my son. As you love me care for him.’

  ‘You may trust me,’ said Exeter.

  ‘Is that Warwick I see there? Our good cousin, be the governor of my son. Teach him what he should learn. Do this in memory of me, I beg of you.’

  Warwick fell on his knees. ‘My dear lord,’ he said, ‘if this must be then I will serve him as I served you.’

  ‘I have good friends,’ said the King. ‘John,’ he went on, ‘you must comfort my Queen. She is young; she is the most afflicted creature living. Care for her.’

  ‘I swear I shall do as you would have me,’ said Bedford.

  ‘Then there is no more for me to do but to die in peace.’

  And so he died.

  Katherine was stricken with grief. She was twenty-one years old and looked younger in her melancholy.

  The King’s body was placed on a chariot drawn by four horses and with a cavalcade of mourners was taken to Abbeville. It was an impressive procession for round the chariot rode four hundred men at arms in black armour, their horses covered in black velvet and their lances held with the points downward. The rest of the mourners were clad in white and they walked slowly carrying lighted torches and chanting funeral dirges.

  They passed from Abbeville to Montreuil and so to Calais. When they reached Dover they were met by processions of bishops and priests and so they brought the King home to his capital city.

  He was buried in the chapel of the Confessor in Westminster Abbey and a chantry was endowed in his honour.

  As soon as the funeral was over Katherine hurried to Windsor to see her child.

  He had been nine months old when his father had died.

  She took him at once to London and rode in a carriage through the streets with him seated on her lap. They had curled his little hands about the sceptre but they could not put the crown on his baby head.

  It did not matter. The significance was plain. Henry the Fifth was dead and the disastrous reign of Henry the Sixth had begun.

  Bibliography

  Armitage-Smith, Sydney John of Gaunt

  Aubrey, William Hickman Smith National and Domestic History of England

  Bryant, Arthur The Medieval Foundation

  Church, Revd A. J. Henry the Fifth

  Costain, Thomas B. The Last Plantagenets The Pageant of England 1377 – 1485

  Davies, J. D. Griffith King Henry IV

  Davis, W. W. C. England Under the Angevins

  Froissart, Sir John The Chronicles of England, France, Spain etc.

  Gairdner, James Lollardy and the Reformation in England

  Green, John Richard History of England

  Guizot, M. (Translated by Robert Black) History of France

  Hume, David History of England from the Invasion of Julius Caesar to the Revolution

  McFarlane, K. B. Lancastrian Kings and Lollard Knights

  Ramsay, Sir James H. of Bamff Genesis of Lancaster

  Stenton, D. M. English Society in the Middle Ages

  Stephen, Sir Leslie and Lee, Sir Sydney The Dictionary of National Biography

  Strickland, Agnes Lives of the Queens of England

  Wade, John British History

  Waugh, W. T. The Reign of Henry V

  Wylie, James Hamilton History of England under Henry the Fourth (Four Volumes)

  ALSO AVAILABLE IN ARROW BY JEAN PLAIDY: THE PLANTAGENET SERIES

  The Plantagenet Prelude

  When William X dies, the duchy of Aquitaine is left to his fifteen-year-old daughter, Eleanor. On his deathbed William promised her hand in marriage to the future King of France. Eleanor is determined to rule Aquitaine using her husband’s power as King of France and, in the years to follow, she was to become one of history’s most scandalous queens.

  The Revolt of the Eaglets

  Henry Plantagenet bestrode the throne of England like an aging eagle perching dangerously in the evening of his life. While his sons intrigue against him and each other, Henry’s conscience leads him to make foolish political decisions. The old eagle is under constant attack from three of the eaglets he had nurtured, and a forth waits in the wings for the moment of utter defeat to pluck out his eyes . . .

  The Heart of the Lion

  At the age of thirty-two, Richard the Lionheart has finally succeeded Henry II to the English throne. Now he must fulfil his vow to his country to win back Jerusalem for the Christian world. Leaving England to begin his crusade, Richard’s kingdom is left in the hands of his brother, John, who casts covetous eyes on the crown.

  ALSO AVAILABLE IN ARROW BY JEAN PLAIDY: THE MEDICI SERIES

  Madame Serpent

  Broken-hearted, Catherine de’ Medici arrives in Marseilles to marry Henry of Orléans, son of the King of France. But amid the glittering banquets of the most immoral court in sixteenth-century Europe, the reluctant bride changes into a passionate but unwanted wife who becomes dangerously occupied by a ruthless ambition destined to make her the most despised woman in France.

  The Italian Woman

  Jeanne of Navarre once dreamed of marrying Henry of Orléans, but years later she is instead still married to the dashing but politically inept Antoine de Bourbon, whilst the widowed Catherine has become the powerful mother of kings, who will do anything to see her beloved second son, Henry, rule France.

  Queen Jezebel

  The ageing Catherine de’ Medici has arranged the marriage of her beautiful Catholic daughter Margot to the uncouth Huguenot King Henry of Navarre. But even Catherine is unable to anticipate the carnage that this unholy union is to bring about . . .

  ALSO AVAILABLE IN ARROW BY JEAN PLAIDY: THE TUDOR SERIES

  Uneasy Lies the Head

  Jean Plaidy

  In the aftermath of the bloody Wars of the Roses, Henry Tudor has seized the English crown, finally uniting the warring Houses of York and Lancaster through his marriage to Elizabeth of York.

  But whilst Henry VII rules wisely and justly, he is haunted by Elizabeth’s missing brothers; the infamous two Princes, their fate in the Tower for ever a shrouded secret. Then tragedy strikes at the heart of Henry’s family, and it is against his own son that the widowed King must fight for a bride and his throne . . .

  ALSO AVAILABLE IN ARROW BY JEAN PLAIDY: THE TUDOR SERIES

  Katharine, the Virgin Widow

  Jean Plaidy

  The young Spanish widow, Katharine of Aragon, has become the pawn between two powerful monarchies. After less than a year as the wife of the frail Prince Arthur, the question of whether the marriage was ever consummated will decide both her fate and England’s.

  But whilst England and Spain dispute her dowry, in the wings awaits her unexpected escape from poverty: Henry, Arthur’s younger, more handsome brother – the future King of England. He alone has the power to restore her position, but at what sacrifice?

  ALSO AVAILABLE IN ARROW IN THE TUDOR SERIES

  The Shadow of the Pomegranate

  Jean Plaidy

  Whilst the young King Henry VIII basks in the pageants and games of his glittering court, his doting queen’s health and fortunes fade. Henry’s affection for his older wife soon strays, and the neglected Katharine decides to use her power as queen to dangerous foreign advantage.

  Overseas battles play on Henry’s volatile temper, and his defeat in France has changed the good-natured boy Katharine loved into an infamously callous ruler. With no legitimate heir yet born, Katharine once again begins to fear for her future . . .

 

 

 
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