* * *

When the King heard of his mother’s death he was overcome with grief.

‘When I was with her,’ he said, ‘she seemed so young … she was so happy. Oh, how cruel it was to take her away from Owen and the children.’

His Uncle Humphrey explained to him. ‘Owen had broken the law. Such acts cannot go unpunished.’

‘I can see no harm in what they did.’

‘My lord, it is always necessary to maintain the law.’

Stop treating me like a child, Henry wanted to cry out, but he said nothing. The Earl of Warwick had taught him to control his temper – not that he had inherited the Plantagenet one which was notorious. He was mild by nature but at times he could be angry and it was usually over something he considered unjust as he did this treatment of Owen and his mother.

He promised himself that he would do what he could to help Owen and his brothers and little sister.

First there was the funeral of his mother and that must be worthy of her. The King gave orders that she was to be brought to St Katherine’s Chapel by the Tower of London and there lie in state and from there be taken to St Paul’s for a memorial service and then be buried in the Lady Chapel at Westminster Abbey.

Henry then sent out an order that Owen Tudor should come to him as he wished to talk with him. He need have no fear. He promised him safe conduct.

When Owen heard, he was undecided. He trusted the King but the King was but a boy, he was a figurehead merely and had no real say in affairs. The King would never have agreed to imprison him and break up his mother’s happy home. No, Owen could not risk coming to the King. Yet on the other hand he wanted to hear about his children. If he could see Henry alone … But what was the use? It was a trap.

He came to London however but the nearer he approached the capital the more uneasy he became. And when he reached Westminster so certain was he of treachery, so eager to avoid a further incarceration in Newgate that he took fright and with it sanctuary in Westminster Abbey.

Eleanor and Humphrey were furious when they heard he had come so far and still eluded them.

‘The King is too interested in Tudor,’ said Humphrey. ‘Let them get together and the boy will be showering honours on him and before we know where we are we shall have a favourite on our hands, telling him what to do and how the rest of us are concerned with our own ambitions.’

‘It must never get to that,’ agreed Eleanor. ‘He must be lured out of sanctuary.’

‘And how?’ asked Humphrey.

‘He is an old soldier and I have discovered that he used to frequent that tavern by Westminster Gate. If he could be lured there he could be taken and sent back to prison. After all he is guilty of escaping.’

‘We will try it,’ said Humphrey.

It was not difficult of course to find an old soldier who had served at Agincourt with Owen. Agincourt was a magic word to those old warriors. They could never resist talking of it and how they had taken part in and won one of the greatest battles in military history.

The old soldier would be delighted to work for the Duke of Gloucester. He would go into the Abbey, get into conversation with his fellow soldier and tell him of the stories which were told in the old tavern of Westminster Gate.

Owen was pleased to see a man whom he could not remember having seen before but who had undoubtedly served with King Harry’s army. They talked a while of old times, but when the suggestion came to visit the tavern Owen was wary. There was too much at stake to risk it for the sake of a convivial evening. He was grieving deeply for the loss of Katherine and still could not believe that she was dead. She had seemed so full of life, like a young girl, and that she could have wasted away, died of melancholy still seemed an evil dream to him.

So the trick failed, much to the chagrin of Eleanor and Humphrey.

‘I’ll get him yet,’ vowed Humphrey.

In the meantime Owen sought an opportunity of seeing the King. He knew that if he saw the boy alone then he could make him understand that he had committed no crime. He had escaped when he had been wrongfully imprisoned. There was nothing criminal about that.

He had the utmost faith in the King.

Greatly daring he decided to make his way by night to Kennington where the King was sitting with his Privy Council. The Duke of Gloucester was not present and it seemed a good time to state his case.

The King and the members of the Council were startled when Owen burst in upon them. Henry stared at him and he cried out: ‘Owen, it is you then?’

And then a terrible desolation swept over the young King for he was reminded afresh of the death of his mother.

‘My lord King, my lords of the Council,’ said Owen. ‘I come to beg you hear me. Have I your leave to tell you why I am here and to explain that I have been wrongfully imprisoned?’

The King astonished everyone by saying in a loud clear voice: ‘You have our leave Owen Tudor to state your case.’

Owen addressed himself to the boy – Katherine’s son, who looked a little like her; the same clear eyes, the same innocence. His spirits rose. His enemies were not present, he could hope that the King would help him, and he stated the facts clearly. He had loved the Queen dearly and she had loved him. She was no longer of importance to the country. Any children they had would be Tudors remote from the throne. They had loved and married before the law was brought in forbidding marriages such as theirs. The Queen was now dead. She had died of melancholy because she had been unable to bear the separation from her husband and children. He had been imprisoned. True he had escaped, but he saw no wrong in that because he should never have been imprisoned in the first place.

Then Henry spoke with an authority and wisdom which he employed at times and which never failed to astonish those who witnessed it. He finished by saying: ‘My friends, Owen Tudor has stated his case with clarity. He has committed no fault against us and I say that from henceforth he is a free man.’

Owen fell on his knees before the King and kissed his hands. Henry, deeply moved, turned away. He could not forget that that happy home at Hadham had been broken up and he would never again experience the peace and happiness he had found there.


* * *

He sent for Owen. He had no longer need to play the King. He was just a young boy who had lost his mother.

‘I did not see her much after they took me away,’ he said, ‘but I always thought of her. It is strange, Owen, but when I had to do something which I hated and which I was a little afraid of, like being crowned in Paris and going to the Parliaments in the beginning, I always thought of my mother.’

Poor Owen. He could not speak of her because his emotion choked him.

‘And Owen, I remember you too … You used to ride with me.’

‘You were a bold little boy, my lord.’

‘I was quaking with fear within and you always gave me courage. Owen … it is so sad that she is gone … and the house at Hadham …’

‘I don’t want to go there again.’

‘No … nor I. What of the children?’

‘They are at Barking still.’

‘I will see that they are well cared for, Owen.’

‘I am going to see them.’

Henry nodded. ‘It is well that they are so young. They will forget perhaps.’

‘The little ones yes … not Edmund and Jasper …’

‘They will in time. Are you going straight to them now?’

‘Yes, my lord. I shall refresh myself in the tavern at Westminster Gate and then ride to Barking.’

‘God speed, Owen. Remember I am your friend.’

Owen took his leave and went to the tavern as he had said he would and he was accompanied by his priest and his servant and while he was there a man came in and sat beside him.

The man wore a heavy cloak but as he sat down beside Owen he allowed it to fall open and so disclosed the royal livery.

‘I come from the King,’ he said. ‘He commands me to tell you that you should not go to Barking. Your enemies are waiting for you there as the first place to which you would go. On the King’s commands you are to get away with all speed.’

Owen understood. Gloucester was not going to let him go free.

Owen hastily left the tavern with his two retainers, mounted his horse and turned his face to Wales.

They had not gone far when they realised that they were being followed and soon a company of armed men had caught up with them and surrounded them. Gloucester had sent men to Barking but others had been lying in wait at Westminster.

What were three against so many? And when Owen saw who his captors were he feared the worst.


* * *

So he was once more a prisoner. Gloucester had no wish to appear in the matter and gave the prisoner into the hands of the Earl of Suffolk. A dangerous man, said Gloucester, as all men were who escaped from prison. ‘We must see,’ he added, ‘that there is no escape this time.’

It was more comfortable in Wallingford Castle than it had been in Newgate but Owen chafed against his lack of freedom.

There was no reason to suppose that he would be allowed to remain there. Gloucester wanted him back in Newgate. The proper place, he said, for men who had the temerity to marry queens in the hope of furthering their ambitions.

So it was back to Newgate. Owen realised then the futility of appealing to the King. Henry wished him well; he was honourable and a son of whom Katherine could have been proud, but he was ineffectual in the hands of powerful men.