The Follies of the King - Plaidy Jean (электронная книга TXT) 📗
Queen was on the way.
The streets were full of shouting people. ‘Down with the King! Down with
the Despensers! Long live the Queen and Prince Edward!’
There was no doubt that, to a man, London was for the Queen.
Walter Stapledon was deeply disturbed by the shouts he heard in the streets of London and was making his way towards the Tower, the custody of which
the King had left to him. He was wondering whether the royal children there would be safe in charge of Hugh le Despenser’s wife and thought that perhaps she had not been a good choice. Anyone connected with the Despensers would be unpopular with the mob.
He intended to fortify the Tower lest the Londoners should attempt to take it. He must act quickly.
As he was hurrying along he heard his name spoken.
He shivered. Someone had recognized him. He quickened his pace but he
realized that he was being followed.
‘Stapledon,’ he heard. ‘The King’s Bishop! He spied on the Queen.’
He was in the midst of his enemies. He hurried through an alley and changed direction. He would make for St Paul’s and sanctuary. If the mob were aroused against him it would be the end.
But he was too late. They were all around him.
‘It is the traitor Bishop,’ they jeered. ‘Dear friend of Edward and the
Despensers. We know what to do with such like, do we not, even if he be a
Bishop?’
He heard the ribald laughter; he saw the leering faces? he was conscious of the merciless mob.
Someone tore at his cloak. In a few seconds they had his shirt from his back.
He was naked before their jeering eyes.
‘There stands a spy and a traitor to our lady the Queen.’
He felt the stab of a knife piercing his flesh. The blood was trickling down his face and he was swaying before them.
He fell and they kicked him; they trampled over him; vaguely he could hear their jeering voices. ‘Spy! Enemy! Friend of the minions? Bishop or not he must die?’
He believed he was praying but he was not sure. But he did know that he
was dying. They meant to kill him but not too quickly. They wanted first their sport. They were dragging him along the ground. His body was mangled and cut in places. Obscenity was in the air. Were they speaking of him? What did it matter what they did to him? He was slowly slipping away.
‘He’s finished,’ said a voice in the crowd.
‘What shall we do with him now? our fine Bishop?’
‘We’ll carve him up and send his head to the Queen? a gift from the loyal
people of London. Would we had the Despenser here.’
So they marched to the Tower carrying the bleeding head of the Bishop and
there they demanded that Prince John and the two Princesses be given into their care to be sent to join the Queen.
This was a token of London’s love for that lady.
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The messengers were brought to Isabella in the castle of Gloucester, one of them carried the head of Walter Stapledon.
Isabella stared at it and remembered how the owner of that head had refused to join her in Paris and had slipped away to report her deeds to the King. ‘His just reward,’ she said.
‘With the compliments of the people of London, my lady,’ said one of the
messengers.
‘Return to them and tell them that I love them even as they have shown they love me.’
The messenger bowed and left.
Another messenger was brought to her. He told her that the people of
London had released her children from the Tower and because they believed she would wish to have them with her, they had sent them to Gloucester.
‘My blessings on them,’ she cried. ‘Let my children be brought to me.’
She embraced them fiercely. It seemed so long since she had seen them: ten-year-old John, eight-year-old Eleanor and five year-old Joanna. They clung to her for they had been frightened by everything that had been happening. Their father had gone away suddenly and left them and there had been a great deal of shouting outside the Tower before people had burst in. Then they had been told that they were being taken to their mother.
‘It is my friends who have brought you here, my darlings,’ cried the Queen.
‘There. All is well now. You shall see your brother Edward, for he is here with me.’
‘When shall we see our father?’ asked John.
‘Of that we cannot be sure,’ answered their mother glibly. ‘Never mind, you are safe with me now.’
Joanna was ready to be happy but the two elder ones were uneasy, thinking
of their father. He had been strange when he and Hugh had gone away and he had told them to do all that Lady le Despenser told them to; and Lady le Despenser had been crying a great deal so they knew that something was wrong.
John had comforted the little girls and told them that it would be all right when they saw Edward, and they were going to see Edward now.
At the moment they could not help being overawed by their beautiful mother who had suddenly grown so fond of them though she had never taken much
notice of them before. All her attention had been for Edward. But they forgot that now. It was pleasant to be embraced by her and made much of and told how glad she was to have them with her.
They were presented to Roger de Mortimer and Sir John of Hainault, both of whom smiled affectionately at them and made as though they were delighted to see them. So they had suddenly become important which was very gratifying.
Delighted by the arrival of the children and the head of the Bishop of Exeter, Isabella was anxious to show the Londoners her appreciation.
She told Mortimer that she intended to appoint a new governor of the Tower and a Mayor of London and she believed he would approve of the choice.
‘You remember the two merchants who were so helpful when you escaped
from the Tower?’
‘Indeed I do. I don’t think we could have managed so well without them.’
‘Adam arranged it of course.’
‘Ah yes, a good friend Adam, but we do owe a good deal to de Bettoyne
and de Gisors.’
‘So thought I. That is why I have decided to appoint de Gisors Constable of the Tower and de Bettoyne Mayor of London.’
‘An excellent choice,’ smiled Mortimer.
‘It will show them that I remember those who serve me well,’ murmured
Isabella.
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Edward, accompanied by young Hugh, retired to the Castle of Bristol
leaving old Hugh and the Earl of Arundel to hold the City for him.
There was not a hope that Bristol would resist the invading forces of the
Queen. The people had no wish to. Like the rest of the country they were against the King.
So the Queen’s army was welcomed and the people came out to cheer the
troops as they marched through the streets with Roger de Mortimer at their head.
When he discovered that old Hugh was in the town he was delighted. Now
had the time come to settle old scores.
‘There must be no delay,’ he said. ‘Despenser and Arundel with him must be tried and sentenced immediately.’
The Queen agreed with him and the two men were brought before her and
the barons, at the head of whom were Mortimer and Sir John of Hainault, for she said that they must be judged according to their deeds.
Sir Hugh lifted his head high and met her gaze unflinchingly.
‘Ah, my lady,’ he said quietly, ‘God grant us an upright judge and a just
sentence. And if we cannot find it in this world, we may find it in another.’
Death was imminent, he knew, for he could not expect pity from either the
Queen or her lover. The fact that he was a man of sixty-four did not move them in the least. He was one of the Despensers loathed by the Queen and the
country. He had been avaricious, it was true, but he had tried to do what he thought was right for the country providing it did not interfere with his personal gain. He was not a good man, not a great man; he had committed sins; but there were many who prospered and were more deserving of death than he was.