It was, he knew, only a respite.


* * *

The French Embassy had arrived in England.

From the City they came by barge to Westminster where Henry, with Margaret, was waiting to receive them. With them were the Duke of Gloucester, the Duke of Buckingham and the Earl of Warwick. Margaret was very interested to meet this last nobleman for Henry had told her a great deal about his tutor, the Earl of Warwick, and he appeared to have had a great affection for that stern old man. This was not that Earl of Warwick, however, but a very ambitious young man of about seventeen or eighteen, a certain Richard Neville who had come to the title through his marriage with old Warwick’s daughter Anne Beauchamp. Also present were the Archbishops of Canterbury and York. The French Embassy was headed by the Counts of Vendôme and Laval and the Archbishop of Rheims.

It soon became very clear that there was only one condition which the King of France would consider in making peace and that was the surrender of Maine. It was the great issue. He knew, and the English knew, that once that province was surrendered the English hope of claiming the French crown would be over.

When they were alone Margaret discussed the matter with Henry.

‘You want peace,’ she said. ‘You should give up Maine. I know my uncle well. If he says that is the only condition, he will insist on it. He means it.’

‘Oh, he means it,’ said Henry. ‘I have no doubt of that. If it rested with me alone I would say: Take Maine, let us have no more war. No more loss of life. No more high taxation. But the people...what will they say? My father gained so much. They have come to expect victories.’

‘They have had very few of late.’

‘No, not since the Maid came. But they believe that will pass. This war, you see, has been going on and on and up and down. It is down now but they think it will go up again.’

‘And yet they protest about paying taxes for it.’

‘People always protest about paying taxes. They want the war to end...but victoriously for us.’

‘Henry, the English are beaten.’

‘The English are never beaten until the last battle.’

‘Do not have any more battles. They are useless, Henry. They bring you no good.’

‘I know. War is waste of men and materials. People should be enjoying the beauties of life. But what can I do?’

‘Give up Maine,’ said Margaret softly.


* * *

Gloucester was gleeful. The Cardinal was a sick man and had had to retire from affairs. One enemy the less, thought Gloucester.

He now concentrated his attack on Suffolk.

Suffolk was a friend of the French. He had brought the Frenchwoman over. He was going to sell English possessions in France to the French just to buy the King a pretty French wife.

Were the people going to stand by and allow this to happen? Gloucester knew how to set up a whispering campaign. He was going to bring Suffolk down and perhaps the King and Queen. Who knew what would happen then? Perhaps his dream would be realized. He was the next of kin.

York believed that he had a chance. York before Lancaster! He was a very ambitious man. During the negotiations for the marriage of Margaret and the King, York had been in correspondence with the King of France trying to arrange a marriage for his eldest son Edward with one of Charles’s daughters. Young Edward must be about three years old. Oh yes, York was ambitious all right and he had his eyes firmly fixed on the throne.

All very good. He would be a good adversary of Suffolk.

Gloucester went to see York. He was getting friendly with him. So it was when men had a similar aim, although the goal might not be the same for they were both after the crown.

‘What think you of this conference?’ he asked York.

‘The French are asking for the return of Maine and Anjou.’

‘And what say you as a soldier to that?’

‘That it is tantamount to saying goodbye to the crown of France.’

‘So say I. But we have married our King to a French Princess, have we not, and this is the price asked for her. The price of peace and Margaret.’

‘We already have her. Maine is for peace.’

The two men fell silent, then Gloucester said: ‘Our little Queen is very partial to Suffolk.’

‘She would be. She looks upon him as the maker of her marriage.’

‘Very fond of Suffolk.’

‘And his wife.’

‘But particularly Suffolk.’

‘You don’t mean...?’

‘Why not? She is young and lusty and I doubt Henry can give a good account of himself.’

‘Nay...Suffolk is devoted to Alice Chaucer and Alice is Margaret’s dear friend.’

‘What has that to do with the matter? This devotion to Suffolk can be for only one reason.’

‘Suffolk is an old man.’

‘Some girls like a little maturity, particularly when they are saddled with a young boy.’

‘The King is hardly that.’

‘In manners he is.’

‘I can’t believe it.’

‘How explain this devotion then?’

‘Well, he brought her over. He arranged her marriage. He was the first Englishman she had contact with...He and the Cardinal. She is devoted to the Cardinal too.’

‘I believe there is a special relationship between Suffolk and Margaret.’

York shrugged his shoulders. He was a little impatient. Gloucester had always been a fool, always plunging into wild adventures. Now he was letting his imagination run away with him.

Nevertheless within a very short time the scandal was being whispered in the taverns. ‘Have you heard...? Well, it must be true. I heard it from someone at Court. Yes...the Queen and whom do you think...Suffolk!’

The Queen Suffolk’s mistress! It was incredible. Could it be believed? She looked so young and innocent. ‘But,’ it was said, ‘you know the French. After all she is French. She is one with the enemy.’

‘They say the French are demanding that we give up all King Henry gained. He would turn in his grave.’

‘But we won’t. We can’t. The Duke of Gloucester will see to that.’

The people were becoming convinced that something had been arranged while the French Embassy was in London, and it was being kept from them.

The Queen was persuading the King to agree to the French proposals. Of course she was. She was one of them. She was the enemy.

People no longer carried the daisy. Something was very wrong, and they blamed Margaret.

You could never trust the French, they said. Margaret’s brief popularity was at an end.


* * *

When Suffolk heard the rumours he knew without a doubt who had set them in motion. He was aware of the friendship between York and Gloucester. They were working up a case against him and the fact that they had brought Margaret’s name in showed clearly that they were trying to turn the King against him.

It was no use delaying. It was quite obvious that Maine would have to be given up. The Queen was persuading the King and the King wanted to please her and bring about peace.

It had to be. Suffolk would have agreed at once if he had not feared the effect on the people, knowing that they would make him the scapegoat. Gloucester would see to that. That he was already working his mischief was clear.

Suffolk came to see the King. It was not difficult to play on his fears, and he was always ready to believe the worst of Gloucester. That matter of the Duchess’s involvement with the Witch of Eye and the others had had a marked effect on Henry. He believed that one day his uncle would stage a coup, murder him and take the throne.

Therefore it was simple.

Gloucester had made a long speech in Parliament urging that the truce be violated. He was working up feeling against the French and that meant the King’s marriage.

‘You see. Sire,’ said Suffolk, ‘we have to take some action. We know well that he is in collusion with York. Gloucester at least may be plotting against your very person.’

‘It would not surprise me,’ said Henry. ‘His wife did it once and I believe he may well have been with her. He is waiting his chance to try again.’

‘Sire, in my opinion we should call him to face the Parliament and answer certain charges against him.’

The King hesitated. It was a pity that the Cardinal had retired to Waltham. He could go and see him, of course, but the old man was quite aloof from politics now.

Henry had to make his own decision.

‘Where is Gloucester now?’ he asked.

‘I have heard, my lord, that he is in Wales.’

‘In Wales? What would he be doing there?’

‘Stirring up trouble, doubtless. I have heard that he is getting together an army.’

‘To come against me! Oh, I am weary of this uncle of mine. He has been nothing but a menace for as long as I can remember.’

‘Bring him before Parliament and let him answer to the charges brought against him. Parliament will be meeting at

Bury on the tenth of February. Is it your wish, my lord, that Gloucester be summoned to attend?’

‘Yes,’ said the King, ‘that is my wish.’

So Gloucester was summoned to Bury to attend the Parliament and answer certain charges which would be brought against him.


* * *

Gloucester was dead. The country was stunned. They knew, of course, that he had been murdered. In the towns and the countryside they talked of it.

The news spread rapidly. He had been riding through Lavenham to Bury. Many had seen him—just the same as usual, splendidly dressed, smiling and acknowledging the cheers of the people, certain of his popularity. Many of them knew that he was something of a rogue but they liked his roguery. The King was a saint, they said. Everyone could not be that and saints were uncomfortable people. Yes, they liked a rogue and for all his debaucheries and follies Gloucester had kept his place in their hearts. His marriage to a woman who was humble compared with him, his devotion to her, was appealing. It persisted and even now he was trying to obtain her release. Yes, Gloucester was a popular figure.