by Tony Riches
* * *
I turn over the letter in my hand and read it a second time, feeling elated and saddened. It has been delivered to me unsealed and the hand is neat but unfamiliar to me. More a note than a letter, it seems to have been written with the expectation it would be read by my gaolers. Thomas and Nathaniel have been released from Newgate and are now in the infirmary at Bermondsey Abbey. Then I notice the letter is signed, so discreetly I had overlooked it at my first reading. There at the bottom, after the words God be with you, is a letter B, written in a less skilled hand. Briony is taking care of my friends and I smile with relief that Edmund Beaufort has kept his promise.
The sparse words of the note bring painful memories. I remember the despair on Briony’s face and how helpless I felt when Catherine lay dying in the same infirmary, begging me to bring her sons to her. I picture Nathaniel in Newgate Gaol, his body shaking with the fever and am glad I was able to help him. My mind is full of questions. I have been spared—but for what purpose? How could a merciful God punish good men so cruelly?
Chapter Sixteen
Summer 1439
If I had known I would remain imprisoned for so long I doubt I would have so easily agreed to Edmund Beaufort’s deal. Juliette visits as often as she can, bringing news of the world outside and helping keep my spirits up. The release of Nathaniel and Thomas gives me hope and within two months Nathaniel is sufficiently recovered from the sickness to visit me in Windsor.
Nathaniel seems like his old self again, having trimmed his untidy beard and put on weight from eating decent food. Although dressed in a cheap woollen smock and a floppy hat that makes him look like a farmer, he has a new dagger at his belt, a sparkle back in his eyes and a broad grin.
I clasp his hand through the bars. ‘I feared Newgate would be the end of you, Nathaniel.’
‘I know what you did for us... and will always be in your debt.’
‘You owe me nothing. I am glad to see you again after so long. How is Thomas?’
‘He wanted to travel with me to see you, but is still weak from his illness. He busies himself helping Briony in the infirmary and plans to return to Wales when he is well enough.’ He smiles. ‘I think he might even take Briony with him.’
‘And what are your plans, Nathaniel?’
‘To find a way to have you released from here, for a start. You know no proper charges were ever brought against you?’
‘They have forgotten about me.’
‘You are not forgotten, Owen.’
‘Then why don’t they charge me—or let me go?’
‘I suspect that Cardinal Beaufort is deliberately preventing the council from discussing your case.’
‘Why would he do that?’
‘He opposes anything the Duke of Gloucester wants. I fear you are simply caught up in their squabbles.’ Nathaniel shrugs his shoulders. ‘All I can do is make enquiries with the clerks who understand the legal process. There must be a way—there always is.’
‘I appreciate your help, Nathaniel. I was starting to wonder if I will be imprisoned in this place forever.’
Nathaniel turns as he is about to leave. ‘Is there anything I can get you, Owen?’
‘There is. I don’t expect I’ll ever see any of my property again but I would like my papers returned, if they haven’t been burned. I may need to prove I have the rights of an Englishman!’
After Nathaniel leaves I feel new hope. I begin exercising in my cell for long hours and am relieved to see how soon my muscles regain their firmness. I also secure permission from Sir Edmund to walk within the courtyard in front of the chapel. My bored guards become complacent as they watch but I honour my promise to Edmund Beaufort. I fear that even if I could escape, the duke’s men would hunt me down. I will never again do anything that could see me returned to the horrors of Newgate Gaol.
King Henry often visits the chapel, spending long hours in prayer when he stays at Windsor, so it is not long before I see the king’s retinue emerging from the entrance. It would have been easy for me to create a disturbance and bring my plight to the king’s attention but instead I allow my guards to escort me from royal view.
Sir Edmund seems to appreciate this and a simple bond begins to develop between us. He becomes more talkative on his occasional visits, sometimes sharing news of the king and parliament. Sir Edmund is scathing about the claims of Richard, Duke of York, and open about his distrust of Duke Humphrey. At the same time, he speaks frankly about my future.
‘The king will see your sons are looked after, but you must understand, Tudor, you are an embarrassment at court.’
I have heard it before. ‘I tried to go to the furthest coast of Wales—twice.’ I shake my head as I remember. ‘Both times I was dragged back to London by Duke Humphrey’s men.’
‘What do you intend to do in Wales?’
‘There is a castle in Beaumaris, close to the village where I was born. I hope to find a position under the constable there, Sir William Bulkeley.’
‘I may be able to put a word in for you, Tudor—but perhaps you would do better with the Merchants of the Staple?’
‘In Calais?’
‘Why not? There is always need there for men with your... resourcefulness.’
‘I will think on it, my lord.’
After Edmund Beaufort leaves I reflect on my future. If they want me out of the way I might be able to turn that to my advantage. It could take a long time before I can save enough to buy a house fit for my sons to return to, so I need money. Catherine’s estates and fortune all reverted to the Crown on her death and any money I accumulated over the years has now been spent or confiscated.
I don’t share Nathaniel’s hope it will ever be returned, so I will have to find any work I can and buy a passage to Calais to seek my fortune there. Sir Edmund told me there are always ships in the busy harbour, laden with bales of wool and returning with goods from all over the continent. On Juliette’s next visit I explain my plan. If I can persuade Nathaniel to accompany me, we could perhaps find work with the men of the Staple, who have a monopoly on the trade and act as agents for the wealthy wool merchants in London.
Juliette contemplates my idea for a moment. ‘Calais is a long way from here.’
I hear a hint of sadness in her voice. I have had plenty of time to think about what I want from the future. I am close to forty years old now and have learnt not to regret mistakes made in the past. I must take my chances while I can or live with the consequences.
‘Would you consider coming with me?’
She hesitates before answering. ‘I used to dream about one day returning to France. I will consider it.’
‘That is all I can ask.’
‘And that is all I can promise.’ She glances back to where the guard could be listening and lowers her voice almost to a whisper. ‘You hurt me once, Owen. I don’t know if I could go through that again.’
I am so preoccupied with my own situation it comes as something of a shock to realise how difficult it must have been for her when I vanished with Catherine. I never wrote to her after we arrived at Wallingford Castle. Even when I visited Windsor I only met her by chance.
‘I’m... sorry, Juliette.’ I struggle to find the right words. ‘I hope whatever the future holds for me, it can include you.’
She studies me without speaking for a moment. ‘I have always loved you, Owen.’ She leaves without looking back, her words hanging in the air like a whispered prayer.
* * *
When Nathaniel eventually returns he seems pleased with himself and is wearing a smart velvet doublet and breeches and a hat with a colourful jay feather. The guards allow him to bring a letter, quill and ink.
‘Did you know Juliette is the king’s housekeeper? She has helped me secure a position, much like that I held years ago, keeping tallies of the king’s supplies.’ He smiles. ‘I have a little money again and will be able to visit you more easily.’
‘That’s good news.’ I glance at the let
ter. ‘What have you brought me?’
Nathaniel hands the letter through the bars. ‘I drafted this authority for me to act on your behalf, as your agent. It needs your signature.’
I take the quill and uncork the flask of ink, then sign my name. It is the first time I’ve needed to do so for a long time. ‘I doubt you will be able to recover any of my property, as it will be long gone now, but we have nothing to lose by trying.’
‘I consulted with a lawyer friend. I was correct in thinking there have never been formal charges against you, so you are only on a holding order from the council. That means you can’t apply for bail—but you could be released on a mainprise, an agreed sum of surety.’
‘I have no money, Nathaniel. Not a single groat.’
‘I’ve thought of that. The application would be considered by the Sheriff of Berkshire, Sir Walter Sculle. The granting of a mainprise is at his discretion—and he can require whatever conditions he pleases.’
‘I wish I felt able to share your optimism.’
‘The sheriff is a fellow countryman of yours, from the town of Brecon—and also the King’s Attorney in the Welsh courts. I am hopeful he will be sympathetic to your case.’
‘You’ve been busy on my behalf. I promised Edmund Beaufort I would not try to escape or ask to see the king. I will ask Beaufort to agree your plan, Nathaniel. It could offer him a face-saving way forward and remind him that he has yet to honour his promise to me.’
Edmund Beaufort seems relieved to have a solution and agrees to release me in the middle of July. Juliette is nowhere to be seen but Nathaniel is waiting for me as I emerge into the bright summer sunshine a free man, almost one year after I arrived at Windsor Castle. I feel as if a huge weight has been lifted from me and embrace him warmly.
‘I don’t know how you did it, Nathaniel.’
‘I told you there must be a way. I arranged a surety of two thousand pounds with the Sheriff and I was right—he is appalled at the way you have been treated.’
‘Two thousand pounds is a fortune. I will never be able to pay it!’
‘That is the point, Owen, you should never have to. I conveyed your promise to the sheriff that you will appear before the king as commanded. A date has been set for the eleventh of November.’
‘Why so long?’
‘It is the best I could do.’
‘Thank you, Nathaniel. I don’t know how I can repay you.’
‘I have thought of a way. You will work for me while you wait. I need to keep an eye on you—and you can help me with keeping records of the household accounts.’
I laugh at how our roles are now reversed. ‘A fair price.’ A thought occurs to me. ‘Will I be allowed to visit my sons at Barking?’
‘You can. You are a free man, Owen.’
Barking Abbey is some sixty miles east of Windsor on the other side of London. I arrive in late summer sunshine on a borrowed horse, wearing new riding clothes paid for from the first wages I have earned since my days at Wallingford Castle. I know little of the abbey, other than it had once been the wealthiest nunnery in England before its lands were inundated by flooding from the Thames.
I am greeted by impassive nuns, who direct me to the abbey stables then lead me to the office of the abbess, Katherine de la Pole. The abbess is the sister of the Earl of Suffolk, William de la Pole, and a favourite of the king. She dresses simply, with black robes and white linen headdress of the Benedictine order, making it hard to judge her age.
Her room is sparsely furnished, with clean rushes on the floor and a scrubbed oak table, in front of which are two wooden chairs. The walls are recently whitewashed and the sun streams through the leaded-glass window onto a painting of a serene Madonna, dressed in faded azure robes.
‘Welcome, Master Tudor.’ Her sharp eyes study my face as if trying to read my thoughts. ‘Have you come to take your sons from the abbey?’
I hear a trace of concern in her voice. ‘No, I simply wish to see them.’ I chose my words with care. ‘I have been... unable to for two years, Your Grace.’
‘You will see them soon—but first we need to talk.’
‘Something is wrong?’
‘Your sons are doing well.’ She smiles. ‘They make good progress with their studies.’
‘They were told about their mother?’
‘Yes, may God be with her. We were sorry to hear of her passing. It was decided they were too young to attend her funeral.’
‘What have they been told about me?’
‘They often ask after you, Master Tudor. The sisters tell them you are in the service of the king.’
‘Thank you, Your Grace. I am grateful for that kindness. What is it you wish to discuss before I see my sons?’
The abbess clasps her hands together and hesitates before answering. ‘I regret to say... the costs of keeping your sons here have not been met for almost a year now.’
I am relieved it is not something more serious. ‘I was not aware of this—how much is due to the abbey?’
‘The amount is over fifty pounds.’ The abbess leans forward in her chair. ‘Since the floods the income from the abbey lands has fallen to almost nothing. As well as the costs of food and clothing, we were told to provide your sons with servants.’
‘I will do what I can to see that you are paid in full.’
‘We would be most grateful.’
I expect it will be a simple matter for Nathaniel to track down the requests for payment and, if necessary, I am prepared to raise it with the king. I hope the failure to pay for the education of my sons is not a sign of how King Henry views Edmund and Jasper.
‘I would like to see the boys now, if I may. I have travelled a long way.’
‘Of course. Please follow me, Master Tudor.’
She leads me out into the cloisters and through an arched doorway to an oak-panelled room, decorated with colourful pictures of saints and an overly realistic figure of Christ on the cross. Edmund and Jasper are waiting on a wooden pew and stand as they see me with the abbess.
They are both simply dressed in plain tunics. Now aged nine, Edmund is the tallest, with his mother’s bright-blue eyes and golden-blond hair. The nuns have cut their hair short, making them look more like page boys than step-brother’s to the king. I am struck by how my youngest son has changed since I last saw him. Jasper is eight years old now and has my dark eyes and black hair.
I walk up to them and embrace them both, surprised at the unexpected awkwardness I feel. I also hadn’t expected such a painful reminder of Catherine and feel a stab of regret that I didn’t try harder when she pleaded with me to bring them to her at Bermondsey Abbey.
‘Have you come for us, Father?’ Jasper stares up at me with enquiring eyes.
‘I must buy a new house before you can come home with me.’
‘Will it be in Wales?’ Once again it is Jasper who speaks.
‘Would you like that?’
‘Yes, Father.’
‘And how are you, Edmund?’ I turn to my eldest son.
‘You told us this would be... an adventure, Father.’ He glances at the abbess, who is listening to every word. ‘All we do is study—and pray you will come for us.’
‘I’m sorry it has been so long. I came here as soon as I could.’
‘We are not permitted to practise archery.’ Edmund glances again at the abbess. ‘The sisters say it is a distraction from our learning.’
The abbess turns to me. ‘They can read and write in French and Latin, as well as English.’ Her voice softens a little. ‘We are impressed with the progress your sons have made. They are excellent students.’
I look at their serious, pale faces and resolve to take them from here as soon as I am able to. ‘I am proud of you both—and I know your mother would be.’ I fight to control my emotions. ‘You know why your studies are so important?’
‘Because we are half-brothers to the king?’
‘That’s right, Edmund. If you do well, one day the king wi
ll make you both lords.’
‘Will we live in a castle?’
‘I am sure you will.’
Jasper smiles. ‘What is he like, our brother the king?’
‘He is more like your mother than his father.’ I did a quick calculation. ‘He must be seventeen now. He has no other family than you—and he was taken from his mother when he was about your age.’
‘If he is the king he should be allowed to do as he wishes?’
‘I agree, Jasper. The thing is... after his father died in France, he was put under the care of his uncle, until he came of age.’
The abbess steps forward and addresses the boys. ‘Your father must rest now. He has ridden a long way to see you.’
I take her cue. ‘The abbess is right. I will see you both again in the morning before I leave.’
As I make the long journey back to Windsor I look up at the warm sun and thank God for keeping my sons safe and well. I have much to be grateful for and my time in Newgate has made me more appreciative of even the most basic things in life, the freedom to walk in the sunshine, a clean bed and a jug of strong ale.
I am sure my sons are receiving an education that will stand them in good stead in the future. I recall how they stood straight and proud as I left the abbey, Edmund still a little reserved, like his mother, Jasper raising a hand and shouting I must return soon. I am fortunate they are in the care of Abbess Katherine, as I don’t like to think what could have become of my sons if they had remained with me.
As I see the huge round tower of Windsor Castle my thoughts turn to Juliette. It is as if she felt safer when there were iron bars between us, for now I am free it seems she ensures we are never alone together. Her manner towards me is a professional barrier as real as any prison bars. I had been disappointed when she wasn’t there to witness my release and was right to wonder if that meant she would not travel with me to Calais.