‘The squire?’ cried Margaret. ‘I scarcely noticed him.’

Alice began to laugh. ‘You have no idea then who that squire was?’

Margaret continued to stare at her.

Alice went on: ‘It was the King. He was so eager to see you and he did not want to disturb you by a formal visit so he came as a squire.’

‘The King!’ cried Margaret aghast. ‘My husband. But I allowed him to stay on his knees!’

‘Serve him right,’ said Alice. ‘If he comes as a squire he must expect to be treated as one.’

‘Oh Alice,’ cried Margaret, ‘you ask what I thought of him. I wonder what he thought of me!’

Henry was meanwhile writing to the Archbishop of Canterbury. He had seen the Queen in private and he was delighted with her. She was all that he had believed her to be but it was clear to him that she was still very weak and forsooth they must wait awhile before the marriage could be celebrated.


* * *

The marriage was to take place on the 22nd day of April in the Abbey of Titchfield and the Bishop of Salisbury would perform the ceremony. Margaret was quickly recovering from her malady; she was young and healthy and the fact that her indisposition had not been that dreaded one which at first had been feared was a sign, said those about her, that she would be fortunate in her new land. Alice could not help commenting that it would have been even more fortunate if there had been no illness at all, but she did not say so to Margaret who in her weak state of health was happy to be assured of good omens.

She thought a great deal about the humble young squire who had knelt before her; she greatly wished that she had taken more notice of him; but she did know that he had a gentle face and that made her feel reassured.

Henry was thinking a great deal of Margaret. She had seemed so young and frail wrapped in her rugs and he had been overwhelmed by tenderness. She was also very pretty in spite of being pale but that somehow made her vulnerable. He was delighted with what he had seen and he was looking forward to their marriage with an enthusiasm of which he would not have believed himself capable before he had seen her.

He prayed earnestly that the marriage would be a happy one. He was, as ever, desperately in need of funds for a wedding was necessarily an expensive matter and he had been forced to raise money on the crown jewels to pay for it. He had had the wedding ring made from one of gold and rubies which had been given to him by his uncle Cardinal Beaufort. It was his coronation ring. His uncle had so often during his reign come to his aid with the money he would need. The Cardinal seemed to have inexhaustible coffers into which he could plunge in an emergency, and Henry often wondered how, without this uncle, he would have survived all the difficulties which beset him. Now he was going to use the Cardinal’s ring for Margaret.

Presents were arriving for the Queen—one of them was rather extraordinary and rather difficult to handle. 11 was a lion, which after it had been duly admired had to be sent to the menagerie at the Tower.

So the wedding took place. It was not as grand as the proxy wedding in France had been but as the bride and bridegroom held hands they ceased to be afraid of each other and they realized that affection was already beginning to grow.

Solemnly they made their vows and as they listened to the Bishop’s address they both inwardly vowed they would do their duty.

‘Blessed is everyone that feareth the Lord; that walketh in his ways.

For thou shalt eat the labour of thine hands; happy shalt thou be and it shall be well with thee

Thy wife shall be as a fruitful vine by the sides of thine house; thy children like olive plants round thy table.’

They were young; there were many years before them. It was their duty to produce heirs to the crown. They both vowed they would not be found lacking.

For Margaret Henry was the perfect husband. Gentle, courteous, eager to be loved and to give her the utmost devotion. She recognized his weakness and that endeared him to her. She wanted someone to lead, to guide, to take care of. And she sensed that Henry was just the man for that.

And Henry saw in Margaret the young girl who was lovelier every time he looked at her and he could not forget the small fragile-looking creature he had first seen wrapped in rugs. He had begun to fall in love with her then.

Thus the marriage appeared to have a successful beginning.


* * *

For the first few days after the ceremony the royal pair were lodged at the Abbey. They had an exhausting programme ahead of them and Henry felt that after her short convalescence and all the ceremonies of the wedding Margaret needed a rest.

They were pleasant days getting to know each other, Henry revealing his feelings slowly, Margaret becoming more sure of herself as the hours passed.

They would have to go to London for her coronation, Henry explained, and that was to take place at the end of May.

‘But first,’ Henry told her, ‘we must make our progress through the country. Everyone will want to see you. I am anxious to show them what a beautiful bride I have.’

Feeling stronger every day Margaret was growing excited at the prospect of her life as Queen of England. She was realizing how dull it had been until now when she had been a background figure—a younger daughter of a King who was not quite a King and was always trying to find some way of avoiding creditors.

She had developed a taste for attention when she had become important in the marriage business and the King of France had seen her as a means of recovering Maine and Anjou. Now she had a country of her own. She had a husband who was already beginning to adore her, to respect her, to talk to her and listen to her opinions. The King ruled the country and the Queen would rule the King. It was a very pleasant prospect.

Alice brought her down to earth sharply.

She had been looking through her wardrobe. I had no idea,’ said Alice, ‘that you had so little with you. What of the clothes you will need for your ride to London? The people expect a show of splendour from a Princess now a Queen.’

‘But I have no more than those you see.’

‘Those with which you travelled through France. You can’t mean that you plan to wear those again. Besides...they are not fine enough. Where is the wardrobe your father must have provided for your arrival in England?’

‘He provided none.’

Alice sat down on a stool and covered her face with her hands. After a few seconds she stood up. ‘I must see my husband at once and he must see the King,’ she said.

‘But Alice, what a fuss to make about a few clothes!’

‘A fuss? By no means. You must make a good impression on the people. They are not very fond of the French you know and they must not have a chance to criticize. They will welcome you because you represent peace. But you must look like a Queen.’

Alice remembered ceremony enough to ask leave to depart. She went at once to her husband who immediately saw the

Consternation reigned when the situation was explained, but within a few hours Suffolk’s valet John Pole was riding as fast as he could to London and he was commanded to bring back with him—with all speed—a certain Margaret Chamberlayne who was one of the finest dressmakers in the City.

Within a very short time Mistress Chamberlayne arrived and with her were bales of very fine materials. Several women were immediately found to work to Mistress Chamberlayne’s instructions and gowns were made which would be considered suitable for the Queen’s progress to London.

Henry, who never cared very much about his own clothes, was delighted to see Margaret splendidly arrayed. Margaret herself was delighted. She was liking England more and more every day.

So the journey to London began. It was a triumph. Margaret was beautiful in her magnificent new garments, her abundant golden hair glowing reddish in the sunshine, streaming about her shoulders; a circlet of gems was on her head, and her blue eyes were alight with excitement; a faint colour glowed in her cheeks, and she looked every bit the fairy Queen as she rode through the countryside with her husband. The fact that she was small and rather fragilely built added to her charm for the people. She looked so dainty. Everywhere she went the daisy was displayed and people who came to see her pass all carried the flower—most of them fabricated, waving them ecstatically.

‘The war is over,’ they said. ‘This marriage means peace.’

So they cheered and the cheers were for peace as well as for Margaret; and when they shouted ‘Long Live the Queen’ they meant also ‘Prosperity is coming’.

It was a warm welcome and it was for her. They made that clear. It was time their King married and gave them an heir and here was the bride—a bride from France to settle the war. Now there would be a coronation and then a royal birth. And no more war. Good times were coming.

At length they arrived at Eltham Palace and there stayed for a few days to prepare themselves for the journey into London. Margaret knew that now the important ceremonies were about to begin. But Henry’s devotion to her was growing every day and she felt complete confidence in her power to charm his people as she had their King. She had not met anyone so far who had not expressed delight in the marriage; but she did know that there were some who were opposed to it. The powerful Duke of Gloucester was one and she must be ready for him when he appeared, as he most certainly would.

From Eltham the royal party set out for Blackheath and there coming towards them was a procession consisting of all the high dignitaries of London. The mayor, the aldermen and the sheriffs of the city made a colourful spectacle in their scarlet gowns while the craftsmen who accompanied them were in vivid blue with embroidery on their sleeves and hoods of vivid red. They had come hither, the mayor told her in his welcoming speech, to conduct her into the City of London.