The Star of Lancaster Read online

  Harry nodded.

  ‘Answer me when I speak to you.’

  Harry paused. He was a little afraid of the coldness in his father’s voice and eyes.

  ‘Yes, I know.’

  ‘And yet you deliberately disobeyed. You defied orders. Do you know what happens to people who defy their masters?’

  Harry was silent.

  ‘So you do not know, eh. They are punished. Get down from your horse. Go to your room and wait there.’

  Harry dismounted and went into the castle.

  Henry was far from as calm as he seemed. He had been deeply shaken by the sight of his son in danger; that had passed and he was confronted by another danger. This boy was rebellious by nature and that rebellion had to be curbed. He must be beaten. And who would administer the punishment? Joan Waring? She would never do it. She would never be able to forget that this was her precious charge. He must not be hurt, she would say, he is too delicate. Mary? Mary would be quite incapable of inflicting a beating. He knew that he would have to do it himself. Soon the boy should have a tutor and he would have to perform these unpleasant duties – for it seemed likely that there would be the need for chastisement in the future.

  He took a stout stick and went to the nursery. Harry was there sitting on Joan Waring’s lap telling her a woeful story of his cruel father.

  Joan was horrified and trembling with agitation.

  It is time, thought Henry, that the boy was taken away from a parcel of women.

  Joan stood up when he came in and Harry clung to her skirts burying his head in them.

  ‘Leave us,’ said Henry curtly to Joan.

  Harry turned and glared balefully at his father as Joan gently prised his hands away from her skirt.

  ‘No,’ cried Harry. ‘Don’t listen to him, Joannie. Don’t go.’

  ‘Leave us at once,’ commanded Henry.

  Joan murmured as she passed: ‘My lord, he is so young . . . and remember he is delicate.’

  Harry’s eyes were on the stick, and Henry felt his heart quail. He loved this boy. The child would never understand that this was no less painful to him than it was going to be to Harry himself.

  ‘You were a wicked boy,’ he said trying to force a cold note into his voice for he was secretly full of admiration for the manner in which the child had managed the horse and it was obvious that he had been quite fearless. ‘You have to learn obedience.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Harry defiantly.

  ‘Because we all have to.’

  ‘You don’t,’ he said.

  ‘Of course I do.’

  ‘Whom do you obey?’

  ‘Those above me.’

  ‘Nobody’s above you . . . except the King. Do you obey the King?’

  For a moment Henry thought of himself standing before Richard with the other four Lords Appellant. The boy was making him uncomfortable, instead of the other way round.

  ‘Enough,’ he said. ‘Come here.’

  He tried to make him lie across a stool. Harry wriggled so fiercely that there was only one thing to do and that was pick him up and put him across his knee. He felt like a foolish old man. Nevertheless he brought down the stick and it was effective to judge by Harry’s yells.

  He was glad he could not see his face.

  Not too much, he thought, just enough to teach him a lesson. He threw down the stick and pushed Harry off his knees.

  The child glared at him. There were no tears, he noticed, though the little face was scarlet with rage.

  Henry said: ‘That will teach you a lesson.’

  The fine brown eyes were narrowed. Never had hatred been so obvious as that which Henry saw in the face of his son.

  Mary was upset that Henry had been obliged to chastise Harry.

  ‘It had to be, my dear,’ Henry explained to her. ‘He is too wilful. We shall have trouble with him later unless a firm hand is taken.’

  ‘I trust you did not beat him too hard. Joan said his screams were terrible.’

  ‘He was screaming with rage. He did not shed a tear,’ he added with pride.

  ‘He is not four years old yet.’

  ‘He cannot learn discipline too young. I want him to go to Oxford when he is a little older. His uncle Henry Beaufort will look after him.’

  ‘I do not want him to leave me too soon,’ said Mary. ‘Let me keep my babies for a while.’

  ‘Of course, of course,’ soothed Henry. ‘But not too much coddling of the child. Joan pampers him.’

  ‘She is very good with him. He is so fond of her.’

  ‘I don’t doubt it when he twists her round his little finger.’

  ‘Oh come, she can be severe. She will slap him if he needs it.’

  ‘He is a child who is in constant need of correction. Well, he has now had something which will remind him for some time to come.’

  The following day Harry was riding round the meadow but his father did not go to watch him. Instead he spent the time with his wife and younger sons. Harry seemed to take this philosophically though when Henry went into the nursery the child eyed his father with caution, but in a moment or two he seemed to have forgotten the beating and was intent on drawing his father’s attention from his brothers to himself by asking about the Barbary pirates.

  Within a short time Henry said good-bye to his family and set out for the coast. Mary took Harry and. Thomas up to the topmost turret to watch him go.

  ‘I want to go too,’ declared Harry. ‘I want to go and fight the pirates.’

  ‘You must wait until you’re older,’ replied his mother.

  ‘I don’t want to wait. I want to go now.’

  ‘Little boys don’t go and fight pirates.’

  ‘Yes, they do.’

  ‘Now, Harry dear, don’t be silly.’

  Harry stamped his foot and narrowed his eyes in the way he did when he was angry.

  He snatched his hand out of hers and ran round the spiral staircase ahead of her.

  He went into the bedchamber which she shared with his father. He was not allowed to go there unless especially summoned but there was no one to stop him now. His father had gone to fight Barbary pirates and had not taken him with him. He touched his buttocks. He could still feel the effects of the stick. It made him angry, not so much because it hurt his body as his pride. He hated to think that he, Lord Harry – his mother’s darling, Joan’s little precious mite – had to be at the mercy of a strong arm. He was not sure whether he hated his father or not. He did sometimes. At others he wanted to be like him particularly if it meant fighting the Barbary pirates.

  But they wouldn’t take him and they were all saying how clever his father was and they were not taking enough notice of Lord Harry.

  He saw the popinjay in its cage. How pretty it was with its brightly coloured feathers. Sometimes his mother let him talk to it and put the seeds into the cage.

  Harry was suddenly angry because they were all making a fuss about his father, and they wouldn’t let him go and fight the pirates.

  On a sudden impulse he opened the cage.

  ‘Come out, pretty bird,’ he said. ‘Come and see Harry.’

  The bird flew out. He watched it fluttering round the room. Then it went out through the door.

  ‘Come back,’ he called. ‘Come back.’

  But the popinjay took no notice. It flew on . . . down the staircase to the hall and out through the open door and away.

  Chapter IV

  THE LAST FAREWELL

  Henry met John Beaufort at Calais. They had received permission from the King of France to cross his country as they were bent on a mission which would benefit the merchants of France as well as those of Genoa. While they were at Calais they were joined by a knight who was on his way to Lithuania to fight with the Teutonic knights.

  ‘We are going to El Mahadia, the lair of the Barbary pirates,’ Henry told him. ‘We plan to destroy the place.’

  ‘A worthy cause,’ replied the knight, ‘but I am eager to crusa
de. I shall be fighting the infidel. You may return richer men but I shall have expiated my sins and have struck a blow for Christ and Christendom.’

  Henry was silent. It was true. Suddenly he had made up his mind.

  He sought out John and told him that he had decided not to go to El Mahadia but to join the Teutonic knights in Lithuania.

  John was astounded. ‘My lord, you have come so far,’ he protested. ‘Can you change now?’

  ‘I can,’ said Henry, ‘and I will. It is better for me to win honour in fighting what is tantamount to a crusade than to win riches from a gang of pirates.’

  John’s face fell. He had been looking forward to the spoils which he was sure would come his way.

  Henry put his hand on his half-brother’s shoulder. ‘You must go on,’ he said. ‘One of us must. Take your men and the equipment and travel across France to Marseilles. I will return to England. I shall need different equipment for Lithuania and shall certainly not sail from Calais.’

  ‘What shall you do then?’ asked the bewildered John Beaufort.

  ‘Return. Raise more money and set out afresh. But John, you must go. It is what our father would wish. Go with his blessing and mine and may God go with you.’

  So the two brothers parted and Henry returned to England.

  Mary was delighted to see him; but alarmed when she heard that the new plan was to go to Lithuania. She believed this would be even more dangerous than attacking the pirates. But at least he was home for another brief spell.

  She was relieved that he was so concerned with his preparations that he could give little attention to young Harry who seemed to grow more and more wilful every day. He had blatantly admitted to setting her pet popinjay free and when she had asked him why, he said, ‘He wanted to go. He did not like being in a cage.’

  He showed no repentance for what he had done but when she told him that popinjays must learn to like their cages because they were unfit to live wild, he was thoughtful and she thought a little contrite.

  In her heart she guessed that he had let the bird go free because he wanted to turn the attention of the household on himself. The matter of great concern to everyone at that time had been the departure of Henry and Harry had doubtless felt himself overlooked.

  She did worry about Harry – but there were other things to concern herself with. For instance Henry’s burning desire for adventure. Of course she had known that it would be impossible to keep him with her, that in his position he must take part in the country’s affairs, but this was not the country’s affairs. This was adventure for the sake of adventure, the desire to be somewhere other than in his own home. The truth was that the love that was between them and the family they were rearing was not enough for him. He sought adventure abroad.

  The thought made her sad. She was foolish, she knew. Her sister Eleanor would laugh at her and tell her she did not behave like a lady of high rank but like some peasant, clinging to her husband and her family. She must keep her thoughts to herself. Moreover the prospect of more childbearing frightened her a little. The last confinement had been agonising. Joan Waring said that she thought her husband should know how she suffered.

  ‘There are some ladies who can bear children with ease,’ said Joan, ‘and there are some who cannot. My lord and lady have three fine boys. For your health’s sake, my lady, that should be enough.’

  She was right, Mary knew. But how could she tell Henry that?

  In due course he left for Lithuania and the crusade which would wash away all his sins.

  He had not been gone very long when she discovered that she was once more pregnant.

  After having landed at Rixhöft Henry hastened on to Danzig at which port the main body of his force had landed with their equipment. Within ten days they had joined up with the Teutonic knights and were soon in the thick of battle of Alt Kowno which was known later as the Battle of the Pagans.

  Henry and his allies won an undoubted victory with few casualties, and immediately advanced on Vilna and laid siege to that town. It seemed as though victory would be certain but the inhabitants of Vilna were a stubborn and stoical people; they would not give way and as supplies were running out for the besiegers it was necessary to call off the attack and return to Konigsberg.

  By this time the winter had come and activities must be postponed. Henry set up in quarters in the town and tried to fill in the time before fighting could be resumed.

  This was not difficult for the Teutonic knights were delighted to have him with them; he had fought hard for their cause and they wished to show their gratitude, and they arranged that there should be good hunting in the forests and in the evenings feasting and merriment.

  One day when he returned from a hunting party it was to find an English sailor waiting for him.

  The man had come from England he said for the purpose of bringing him a message from the Lady Mary.

  ‘My lord,’ said the man, ‘I am to tell you that your lady was delivered of a fine boy. She says that as the last was named for his paternal grandfather this child should be named for his maternal one. He is Humphrey.’

  Henry was so delighted that he gave the messenger a purse of gold. Four boys! His father would be pleased. He had done better than he had for he only had one legitimate son. One could not really count the Beaufort boys. Harry, Thomas, John and now Humphrey. Dear Mary, she had played her part well. No man could ever have had a better wife. Mary had given him so much, a fortune, four sons and docility and admiration. She looked up to him and thought he was right in all things. He was a happy man. If only his father had been his father’s first-born and was the son of a king instead of the grandson of one, he would be completely content with life.

  As it was he had a great deal to be thankful for and now there was a birth to be celebrated.

  Christmas would soon be here and on Twelfth Night he proposed that as he had accepted so much hospitality he would now entertain his hosts. There should be a banquet in the English manner with mummers, minstrels and perhaps a joust.

  He threw himself into the preparations. He had a new son, he kept reminding himself. He could not stop talking about his sons. Four of them and he was young yet. He would rival his grandfather for begetting children. Edward and Philippa had had twelve, and he saw no reason why he and Mary should not equal that number.

  At his feast he received the congratulations of his allies. The health of his children was drunk with special mention of the newcomer Humphrey and his eldest Harry the heir.

  Rich presents were brought to him. Silks, velvets and jewels; and from one of the Teutons three bears. ‘To amuse those fine boys,’ said the giver of the animals.

  It was a glorious occasion and Henry thought how wise he had been to indulge in such an adventure which could bring him so much pleasure while at the same time it washed away his sins.

  The winter began to pass and still hostilities were not resumed. At the beginning of March he began to wonder whether they would ever be, for the Teutons had been unable to raise the money necessary to carry on the war, and it seemed as though it was going to peter out.

  Henry began to consider that it was time he returned home. After all he had not intended to stay away so long, so he ordered two ships to be made by two Prussian ship-builders, and, as soon as they were ready, to be loaded that he might set out on his journey home. The three bears were caged and brought on board. It was not easy to take them with him but he could not offend the giver by leaving them behind and he smiled to himself wondering what the boys would think of them.

  Then they set sail and finally they came into the port of Hull where Henry disembarked though many of the party sailed down to Boston in Lincolnshire with the baggage.

  Henry had sent word ahead that he was coming home and he wished the family to be at Bolingbroke where he would come with all speed.

  Mary and the children were awaiting his arrival. John could not remember his father. Thomas was not really sure whether he could; but Harry r
emembered. He remembered his standing before him with a stick in his hand. Strangely enough he did not feel fear at the thought of his father’s return, only a kind of stimulation as he would later when he was going into battle.

  Mary’s feelings, too, were mixed. In one way she longed to see Henry and she was thankful that he was safe; she wanted to hear of his adventures; but at the back of her mind was the fear that the result of his return would be another pregnancy for that seemed inevitable whenever Henry was home.

  During Humphrey’s birth she had suffered intensely, and Joan Waring had become even more concerned. Her relief when Mary recovered made it obvious that she had feared the consequences might have been disastrous. ‘Now there shouldn’t be any more, my lady,’ she said. ‘Four fine boys! My lord cannot ask for more than that.’

  But he did, of course. He wanted to rival his grandfather. Poor Queen Philippa! Mary had never known her and she heard that she had children easily, but she had grown very fat and unable to move at the end. ‘It was no sooner up from childbed with one than she was preparing for another,’ one of her women had said. ‘Now that’s not good. A woman needs a rest . . . a good long rest between.’

  She could agree with that. But when Henry came riding into the courtyard, his eyes shining with joy to see them all assembled there, when he embraced her and she felt his warm kiss on her mouth, she thought: How could I tell him? She could not. Life must take its course.

  It was a joyful reunion. He must admire baby Humphrey. He must see how John and Thomas had grown. And there was Harry too – just the same – slender to the point of thinness, with that oval face and sharp eyes that missed nothing – smooth dark hair rare among the fair curly Plantagenets.

  He had changed little. He was demanding attention as clearly as though he actually asked for it. He stood there legs apart, fearing nothing but that so much attention might be given to the returning adventurer that people would forget Lord Harry.

  There was great excitement when the baggage arrived and Henry unpacked the rich exotic things he had brought for them. The beautiful silks delighted all the women; he had brought a parrot for Mary.