The Star of Lancaster - Plaidy Jean (читать книги онлайн полные версии txt) 📗

It was impossible to keep secret for long such an event as the marriage of the King of England and the widowed Duchess of Brittany and the Papal Court at Avignon heard word and immediately sent word to Joanna that in being a party to this marriage she had committed a deadly sin. She had promised to live in matrimony with a supporter of Boniface.

Joanna however was not going to allow such a decree to stop her marrying the man of her choice and when she made this clear Benedict, realizing that he might lose her support, gave his permission for her to live with Henry as long as she did not swerve in her allegiance to himself, the true Pope. It might well be that she could turn her husband from the error of his ways and bring him back into the fold.

Joanna herself was delighted with this show of friendship clever woman to have got the better of the Pope.

The Duke of Burgundy had arrived in France with rich gifts for the Duchess and her family. She had shown by her forceful acts that she was a woman to be reckoned with and it was disconcerting to contemplate that she was going to be allied with that old enemy Henry of England.

Joanna herself was delighted with this show of friendship and she felt that she could with a good conscience leave her sons in the guardianship of the powerful Duke of Burgundy.

She said good-bye to her sons and watched their departure

to the Court of France knowing that the King of France would keep the peace of Brittany and preserve the Duchy for her son. Her two daughters, Blanche and Marguerite, should travel with her to England.

It was a rough crossing and at one time Joanna thought she would never see England; the intention had been to land at Southampton, but so strong was the gale that their vessel was blown along the coast. They were lucky to be able to land at Falmouth.

At the head of her party she rode inland and at Winchester she had the pleasure of seeing Henry who, when he heard that she had landed at Falmouth, came to meet her with all speed.

It was a moment of great joy for her when they were face to face.

He took her hand and kissed it.

*It seems long since we last met,* he said.

She answered: 'But I kept the flower you gave me. Do you remember?*

Tou may be sure I do. Forget me not was its message.'

'Then all is as it was ...'

'And shall be as long as we two live.'

They rode side by side into the city; and the next day their marriage was solemnized in the Church of St Swithin with great pomp and ceremony.

Henry was determined to honour his bride.

The old Earl of Northumberland was stricken with grief when he heard of the death of his son. Hotspur had been a great name; he was his father's favourite son and his defeat and death must plunge the house of Northumberland into deep and bitter mourning.

But not for long. The old Earl cried out for vengeance. He was going to get it and he would not rest until he had driven Henry of Lancaster from the throne he had no right to possess.

He was still in touch with Owen Glendower. The Mortimers were with them. They had a right to the throne. Their cause was just. Together they would go on fighting and to hell with the usurpers.

The power of the Percys was great; they were more than border barons; they were the border kings. 'We have been

defending that border at our own expense for years/ declared the Earl. 'Are we going on doing it for the benefit of Henry of Lancaster?'

Northumberland was stricken with furious grief when he heard that his son's body, which had been given decent burial at Whitchurch, had been dug up on the King's orders. That it had been taken in a rough cart to Shrewsbury, and had been salted to prevent decomposition and set up between two millstones close to the pillory so that all might see to what end proud Hotspur had come.

'He is too great an enemy to rest in obscurity,' said Henry. 'I want all the world to see what he has come to because he defied his King.*

Hotspur's head was cut off and the rest of his body cut into quarters and sent for prominent display to Newcastle, Chester, Bristol and London. As for the head he wanted that placed in York on the city's northern gate so that it was turned towards that part of the country over which for so long he had been a ruler.

The old Earl was mad with grief. He lived only for revenge. When he received a command from the King that if he came to York they would talk and settle their grievances he had no alternative but to accept the invitation. Henry knew that he would have to pass through the northern gate on which was the head of his son.

As Northumberland rode into York and saw that grisly relic he was filled with an all-consuming hatred against the King. 'A thousand curses on Bolingbroke,' he muttered.

He was soon to realize that he had been a fool to come. Henry had no intention of making terms with him as yet. He told the old man that several of his castles would be confiscated and he himself confined near Coventry until his case could be tried by his peers.

This was utter humiliation. And there was more to come. But it was no use allowing his pride to stand in the way of his purpose. He had to make a show of humility if he were going to save his life, and he intended to save it if only for the purpose of taking his revenge on Bolingbroke. It was finally decided that as he had not actually been in battle he could not be judged guilty of treason so would merely be fined; and if he swore to serve the King faithfully in future he might return to Northumberland.

Henry was a man who did not keep his promises; Northumberland would be the same.

Yes, he would agree to anything. But when he returned to Northumberland he would plot the downfall of the man who called himself the King.

Northumberland was determined. He was in communication with Owen Glendower; he had made a pact with the Scots, who now that he was against the English had a shared interest.

Henry was aware of this. He should have destroyed Northumberland when he had a chance. He might have known that the Earl would never forget nor forgive what Henry had done to the valiant Hotspur.

Henry marched north. It was winter and there had not been in living memory such a harsh one. The snow lay thick on the ground and in the northern part of the country particularly this would be known for years to come as the winter of frost and ice.

It was not the weather for fighting battles, but Northumberland was determined. He had to regain what had been taken from him and turn the usurper from the throne.

Henry had no alternative but to go into battle. This he did. His numbers were superior; his men were better equipped. The battle was brief and decisive and Northumberland fell from his horse when an arrow struck him wounding him fatally.

Henry was triumphant.

That must be an end to rebellion in the north. Men must understand what happened when they came against the King.

They had come to a small place called Green Hammerton and there it was decided they would stop for the night.

The King and his close attendants were lodged at a manor house while his company found lodging in the town and, cold as it was, some set up tents.

Henry was wet and cold; his limbs felt stiff and he wanted mulled wine, hot food and a bed on which to rest.

He removed some of his clothes and the wine was brought to him. Suddenly he threw the goblet from him screaming. 'What have you done? Who is the traitor? Who has thrown fire over me?'

Those about him recoiled in horror, for his face had grown a deep purple and they could see pustules appearing on his skin. He must have contracted some dreadful disease.

'What is this?' cried Henry. 'What is it?' He put his hands to his face. 'Why do you look at me like that? What has happened to me?'