The Follies of the King Page 30

  He set out to meet Isabella, to assure her of his devotion, which was unnecessary really; he had shown that when he had so ably assisted Mortimer’s escape.

  He was received with affection by the Queen and Mortimer and the very next day preached a sermon in their presence to which the people flocked so that the church was filled to overflowing and the people crowded into the porch and at the windows to hear him.

  He took the opportunity of thundering against the King and took his subject from the fourth chapter of the second book of Kings when the man complained of the sickness in his head and shortly after died.

  ‘When the head of a kingdom becometh sick and full of disease,’ thundered Adam, ‘it must be taken off and it is useless to resort to other remedies.’

  The congregation listened in awed silence. The Queen glanced at Mortimer who was smiling quietly. The Prince was anxious but he now fully believed that what his father was doing was against the good of England and each day he was becoming more and more sure of his destiny.

  He believed now that what was good for England must be done, and here was a Holy Bishop in his pulpit confirming all that he had learned from his mother.

  It was sad. It was tragic. But it was right.

  * * *

  The King was in the palace of the Tower of London when news was brought to him of the Queen’s arrival in England with one army led by Roger de Mortimer and another by John of Hainault.

  And they came against him!

  He sent at once for Hugh. He had never seen Hugh so disturbed before.

  Hugh had always comforted him, refusing to believe in harm, always seeing the bright side of life. It was one quality Edward especially loved about him.

  ‘They will not succeed,’ cried Hugh. ‘We will raise an army.’

  ‘How?’ asked his father.

  ‘We will do it,’ insisted Hugh. ‘First we must get away from here. The Londoners have always disliked you and loved the Queen. Once the news reaches London it will be too late.’

  Although it was a mild September day it was chilly as always in the Tower and yet the sweat was on Edward’s brow and there was a terrible fear within him. They were going to take Hugh away from him. He would never allow that.

  He would accept anything rather than that.

  He turned to Hugh with appealing eyes. ‘We must stay together,’ he said.

  ‘So shall we, my lord. But we shall have to leave London without delay.’

  ‘The children―’ began Edward.

  His son John of Eltham and his two daughters Eleanor and Joanna were in their apartments in this very Tower. Could they take them with them?

  Hugh shook his head. ‘My wife will take charge of them,’ he said. ‘We should escape and as soon as possible.’

  ‘And what of London? Who will defend it?’

  ‘Good Bishop Stapledon has shown himself a friend to us. Let us leave him here to hold the City for you.’

  ‘Excellent,’ cried Edward. ‘Let that be done.’

  ‘I suggest,’ said the elder Despenser, ‘that we make for Bristol. Then, if the need should arise we can take ship to Ireland.’

  ‘It must be so, I suppose,’ sighed the King. ‘Who would have believed it possible that my own Queen should so turn against me!’

  ‘She was always jealous of me,’ replied Hugh.

  ‘But she did not appear to mind. She was always so ready to be with me―’

  ‘We did not realize, my lord, that we had a she-wolf in our midst.’

  ‘And she has Edward with her! That I find hard to bear.’

  ‘She has John of Hainault and Mortimer―’

  ‘That traitor! There shall be a price on his head. Oh God, why did I not have that head when I had a chance to take it?’

  Edward sighed and looked back over a reign of lost opportunities but there was no time for regrets now. The Earls of Arundel and Hereford had arrived at the Tower. They had come to warn the King.

  ‘I have some friends left then,’ said Edward.

  They agreed that the best plan was to leave London with all haste and make for Bristol.

  * * *

  It was impossible to keep the departure a secret and very soon it was being whispered throughout the streets of London that the King had fled and the 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.

  * * *

  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 embra
ced 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.

  * * *

  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.

  This was what he wanted to tell his judges, but they were not interested in his defence. They had determined at the start of his brief trial to prove him guilty.

  They did and he and Arundel were sentenced to the cruel death which it had become the custom to bestow on traitors. They believed right to the end that their nobility would save them from that barbarous end and beheading be substituted. But this was not to be.

  There should be no mercy for a Despenser and those who upheld them, decreed the Queen and Mortimer.

  So the two men were taken out and hanged, drawn and quartered.

  The Queen was exultant. ‘There is one Despenser the less,’ she said.

  ‘And still one to suffer a similar fate,’ replied Mortimer grimly.

  * * *

  Edward in Bristol Castle was almost mad with grief and fear.

  Hugh from a window in the castle had heard the shouts of the people. He had seen the body of his father dangling on a rope and he knew what tortures followed.

  He felt sick with grief. He and his father had worked together all their lives; they had revelled in each other’s triumphs and commiserated with each other’s failures. And to think of that revered old man in the hands of his rough executioners was more than his son could bear.

  Edward tried to comfort him, but there was no comfort for Hugh.

  What there was, was the awful realization that very soon they would come for him and he knew well that a similar fate awaited him.

  Edward clung to him in terror. ‘Hugh, they have done that to your father! Oh they are devils! They will burn in hell for this. Your dear, dear father―’

  Hugh said quietly, ‘They will come here seeking me and you will see that they will do the same to me.’

  ‘No,’ cried Edward shrilly. ‘I would never allow it. I should forbid it. They would have to listen to me― the King.’

  Hugh looked at him sadly. He thought: They will never listen to you again, poor Edward. This can be the end of you and if it is for you it is for me also.

  But they were not taken yet, though it could only be a matter of hours before their enemies came. They would watch the hideous spectacle of his father’s execution and then they would come to take him and make him the next chief actor in their grisly performance.

  He stood up suddenly. ‘There is time yet. Edward we must not stay here.

  They will march on the castle. It may be they are preparing to do so now. We must get away.’

  ‘Where to?’ asked Edward. ‘You mean just the two of us? Oh where are all my loyal friends? There must be some of them left.’

  ‘My father is dead. Arundel is dead. And they died cruelly. No, Edward, we have no one but ourselves. We must get away. There is a boat on the shore.

  Perhaps we could go to Lundy.’

  ‘To Lundy, yes. To Lundy. We shall be safe there, Hugh.’

  ‘Come then. There is not a moment to lose. Take a thick cloak. You may need it. Stop for nothing more. It may be that they are already at the castle gates.’

  Swiftly and silently they made their way out of the castle and came to the shore.

  The boat was there. They got in and Hugh seized the oars. The strong wind caught at their hair but they were free.

  ‘To Lundy!’ cried Edward. ‘Once there we will make plans. Perhaps we can escape to France. Oh, this will not last, dear Hugh. The people will turn against that she-wolf whom I made my wife. My son Edward would never work against me.’

  Hugh did not remind the King that young Edward was with his mother and had come with her to Bristol. It might be that the boy would turn against such perfidy in time, but at the moment he was under the spell of his beautiful mother and while he was with her he must work against his father.

  The wind grew fierce
and the boat could make no progress. Again and again it was blown back towards the shore. It was no use trying to row against such a sea.

  They would never reach Lundy at this rate.

  Hugh shook his head sadly. They would have to abandon all hope of leaving the country. With some difficulty Hugh brought the boat back to land and they disembarked on the coast of Wales.

  * * *

  Hugh and the King slept the night in the shelter of a wood and the next day they walked until they came to the town of Cardiff. Hugh sold a jewel to buy them food and they rested at an inn where they talked with men who had heard of the Queen’s coming to England and setting herself up against the King.

  ‘‘Tis no more than a whore she be,’ said one man. ‘The true King will rise up, depend on it, man. God will not be with those that live in adultery.’

  Such talk tempted the King to reveal his identity and he was warmly welcomed and several men swore they would stand with him. His father had defeated the Welsh but he had brought good rule to the country and they wanted no adulteress and her paramour ruling them.

  The King was filled with hope. Hugh was more realistic. A few men at an inn would count for little against the armies the Queen had raised.

  Still it was good to see Edward in better spirits and they talked through the night of how they would raise men and Edward should win back what he had lost.

  In the morning they were less sanguinary. The terrible fate of the elder Hugh had sobered both of them. Edward was terrified more for his friend than for himself. He was certain that they would not dare harm him.

  ‘What we must do,’ said Hugh, ‘is to disguise ourselves, sound the people and if many feel as this innkeeper and some of his friends do we may raise men to fight for us.’

  ‘You are right, dear Hugh,’ said Edward. 1 think we could take the innkeeper into our confidence,’ replied Hugh.

  They did and the man was clearly excited to be drawn into the conspiracy.