‘There is nothing we can do now but wait for the birth of the child.’

‘Go back now to Pembroke, Owen. Convey my regrets to Margaret. Tell her my thoughts are with her and I shall remember her in my prayers.’

‘That will comfort her, I know.’

After Owen had left Henry thought a great deal about the sad young girl who was about to become a mother. He mentioned her in his prayers whenever he prayed and as he was constantly engaged in prayer that meant very frequently.

Poor young girl, he thought. But Jasper is a good man. He will look after the child for the sake of his brother if nothing else.

It was January when the news came from Pembroke.

It was good news this time. Margaret had been safely delivered of a boy.

Owen himself rode over soon after the messenger had brought the news and Henry received him with open arms and embraced him warmly.

‘So you are a grandfather, eh, Owen?’

‘I am proud to be,’ said Owen.

‘It is the best news. Margaret has come through safely in spite of her youth and the terrible shock she has suffered.’

‘And the child is a fine healthy boy.’

‘God has sent him to comfort her.’

‘She is happy in the child, and she has been most touched by your concern for her. I have given her all your tender loving messages and I am sure they were of great help. She wanted only one name for the child. It is Henry.’

The King laughed. ‘So he is my namesake. God bless little Henry Tudor.’


* * *

Ever since the Love Day celebration Margaret had been very restive. Considering her present situation and consulting with her closest adherents, those nobles whom she thought of as the leaders of the Court party such as young Somerset. Egremont, Clifford, Northumberland, Exeter and Rivers, she had come to the conclusion that Warwick was an even greater enemy than York.

There was some charismatic aura about Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick. He was the sort of man whom nature seemed to have destined to play an important part in the affairs of a nation. Who was he? In the first place son of the Earl of Salisbury, and he would have been of no great importance while his father lived. But what should he do but marry Anne Beauchamp, daughter of the Earl of Warwick. Yet at the time of the marriage two lives stood between him and possession of the Warwick title and the vast estates that went with it. Nature conveniently removed those obstacles and on the death of the Earl, Richard Neville took the title.

It was not only good fortune that he possessed. He had not only strength, ruthlessness, love of adventure; he was a man to mould affairs. It was a pity that he had allied himself with York instead of standing by his King.

Since he had taken the governorship of Calais he had become a menace to the French; and while he was in possession of Calais, it was considerably to York’s advantage.

Margaret was angry. She had wanted young Somerset to have Calais. She had pleaded with Henry to give it to him, but Henry, in this new found strength of his, was stubbornly refusing to accede to her wishes.

‘It would never do, Margaret,’ he said. ‘The people have a fondness for Warwick. They think of him as a hero in the southeast of the country.’

‘He is nothing but a pirate. He brings us into disrepute with the French.’

‘My dear, the French are not exactly friendly with us, are they? Oh, I know they are your people and you love them, which is natural. I would not expect that to be otherwise. But you must remember that you are English now and it is in our successes that you must rejoice.’

‘In Warwick’s? In your enemy’s?’

‘But he is one of our great Earls. He walked with Exeter in the procession. There was amity between us.’

Oh, what was the use of talking to Henry! Some might say that the French were acting as privateers in the Channel and that Warwick was merely retaliating. It might be pointed out that in the last years the high seas had become profitable for pirates and that Warwick was taking his share and not leaving all the pickings to the French. Margaret would not listen. She hated Warwick—even more than she hated York and she wanted Calais for Somerset. She wanted to make sure that that important town was not in the hands of her enemies.

An opportunity came which she seized eagerly. It was not Margaret’s way to consider the advantages and disadvantages of a situation. She was entirely optimistic when an idea occurred to her and impatient with any who might try to point out flaws in the arrangements she planned.

Warwick had gone too far in his latest exploit. He had intercepted ships carrying cargo from Lübeck. It was a very different matter intercepting ships from France with whom the country had been on terms of war for so long, but there was an agreement between Lübeck and England which had been made only two years before. To intercept and carry off these ships was therefore a flagrant violation of that treaty.

Margaret immediately called her friends together and made sure that Henry was not present and knew nothing of the meeting.

‘This is outrageous,’ she cried, her eyes flashing and gleaming with triumph. ‘But it delivers Warwick into our hands. I shall call together a council which will be headed by you, my lord Rivers and others we shall appoint, and the Earl of Warwick shall be commanded to relinquish his post. As it will be offered to you, my lord Somerset, it might be well if you did not attend the first meeting of the Council. This is going to be the end of Warwick’s power in Calais.’

It was an easy matter to get the Council to agree for they were all members of the Court party, all adherents of Lancaster, all against York, and in great delight Margaret sent an embassy to Calais, informing Warwick that he was to relinquish his post forthwith as it had been unanimously decided that in view of the Lübeck action, he was no longer fitted to hold it.

Warwick’s answer was what might have been expected.

‘It was the Parliament who appointed me. I shall certainly not resign unless on order from Parliament. I take no heed of inner councils which lack parliamentary authority.’

Margaret fumed with rage. The Parliament would not agree to force him to resign, she knew. They considered what the effect of his resignation would be on the people of London and the south-east who had grown rich while he was governor of Calais. They said he made the Channel safe for English shipping; they liked their buccaneer. It appealed to them to think of his terrorizing the old enemy the French; the booty he captured was sent over to England and that was enriching the land.

Somerset had done nothing to recommend himself except ingratiate himself with the Queen and that went against him with quite a number of people.

Once again Warwick had flouted her. But she saw a glimmer of hope.

Warwick was coming over to England—no doubt to harangue the Parliament and tell them he was the best man for Calais and if they wanted to see England triumphant in France again they needed men such as he was.

Margaret would not see the truth of this. But Warwick was an enemy and she wanted to destroy him.

It was not impossible. She wondered who to take into her confidence. It must appear natural of course. There were continual quarrels between the wearers of the red and white roses and these often resulted in bloodshed. A brawl between them would not seem of any special significance, but if such a brawl occurred in a certain place and Warwick was there and he was slain...it would be difficult to attach blame to anyone, least of all the Queen.

Warwick would be at Westminster. He was coming to explain to the Council the position at Calais; to tell them what a fine fellow he was, of course, thought Margaret. Well, while he was at Westminster Hall there should be a quarrel between Warwick’s retainers and those of the royal household. Warwick should be brought hurrying from the council chamber and there must be those waiting for him. They must fall upon him, kill him and then mingle in the general affray.

It seemed comparatively simple to Margaret. Then with Warwick out of the way York would have lost his most powerful friend. York without Warwick was far less formidable than he was at the moment. Warwick had the south east of the country with him and he was fast becoming known as a hero, one of those men who went into battle carrying the certainty of victory with them like a flag.

The day was set. Margaret was waiting in an atmosphere of increasing tension for news to reach her of her enemy’s death.


* * *

Warwick arrived at Westminster Hall with his retinue prominently displaying his badge of the Ragged Staff which was recognized all over the country and being applauded wherever it was seen.

He left his men in the hall while he went along into the council chamber. He had not been there for more than five or six minutes when the fighting broke out in the hall. One of the King’s men had jostled a bearer of the Ragged Staff; muttering disparaging remarks against Warwick.

Warwick’s men hit out at the King’s man who immediately brought out a dagger. It was the cue. The royal servants were prepared to do the Queen’s bidding and in a matter of seconds the brawl had started. Warwick’s men were taken a little by surprise. Although they were prepared for insults they had not thought it would be as deadly as it was proving to be. They rushed at the assailants crying ‘Á Warwick! Á Warwick!’

Warwick himself hearing the turmoil came rushing out of the council chamber as Margaret had guessed he would.