The Red Rose of Anjou - Plaidy Jean. Страница 85
She could scarcely believe it. It had happened. She called the Prince to her; she embraced him with fervour.
‘He has done it,’ she said. ‘God be thanked, Warwick has put Henry back on the throne.’
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It had all gone according to plan. Edward had foolishly allowed himself to be lured to the North to quell the rising in answer to the call for help from John Neville.
No sooner was he there when Warwick landed. John Neville then called to his men and told them that they were now going to bring back the true King. In fact his brother was already engaged in doing this. They were tired of the growing arrogance of the Woodvilles and the new nobility which the Queen was creating. All those who agreed with him could follow him south to join the armies of the great Warwick. Warwick’s name acted like magic.
‘In the morning.’ said Neville, ‘we will take the King.’
Edward had some faithful servants and one of them immediately hurried to tell him what had happened. Edward was sitting at dinner when the servant arrived and realizing his position decided that there was only one course open to him and that was flight.
‘If we stay we shall be captured...and murdered I doubt not,’ he said. ‘Warwick will know better than to try to make a captive of me. We must get away...but only for a while.’
There were some eight hundred of them including Hastings and his young brother Richard. They rode to the coast and reached Lynn where they found ships to take them to Holland.
‘Better to live to fight another day,’ said Edward. ‘I would never have believed this of Warwick.’
‘A curse on him,’ cried Richard. ‘The traitor.’
‘Nay, brother,’ said Edward. ‘He was a good friend to me. That is why I know he will be a good enemy. Our ways parted. He wanted to go on leading me and I am out of leading strings. I always liked Warwick. Methinks I always will.’
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Henry blinked at the men who stood before him. He thought he recognized them from the past. Was one Archbishop George Neville and the other Bishop Waynflete?
The two men stared at him in shocked silence. His hair was unkempt, his face and hands dirty. His clothes hung on him. ‘He looked,’ said the Archbishop afterwards to his brother the Earl, ‘like a sack of wool...a shadow...and he was as mute as a crowned calf. He had no notion of why we had come. He was bemused and after a while we heard him murmuring "Forsooth and forsooth."‘
‘My lord,’ said the Archbishop, ‘we have come to take you from this place. Your loyal subject the Earl of Warwick...’
Henry looked more bewildered. There was so much explaining to do. They must take him from the Tower, wash him, clothe him in garments suited to his rank and feed him.
They brought him quietly from the Tower and took him away by barge so that none of his subjects might see the wreck he had become.
When Warwick saw him he was horrified.
‘How dared they treat a King so!’ he cried.
He had forgotten that until recently he had been one of those responsible for Henry’s captivity.
That was over now. Henry was going to be King. Edward had flown. His wife would be joining him and so would his son. He would be amazed to see the Prince—as handsome and fine an heir as ever was seen.
It took Henry a long time to grasp what was happening. He murmured prayers most of the time. There was no sign of rejoicing. It almost seemed that he would have preferred to stay where he was.
Margaret was jubilant. Edward in flight; Henry restored. It was a miracle. And Warwick had done it. She had to admit that. He was not called King-Maker for nothing. And if he would be loyal the future could be bright. She had been right to suppress her pride. And now nothing should stand in the way of Edward’s marriage to Anne Neville. She owed that to Warwick for she had promised that when Henry was restored to the throne the marriage should take place.
Now that promise must be kept.
It was a grand wedding. August had just come in and that was the best time for a wedding. So many of the festivities took place out of doors. The King of France was present. The wedding was almost as much of his making as it was Warwick’s. He was delighted. He saw an end to his enemy, Edward of England. It was always comforting when other people fought one’s battles and Warwick had done that for him. Therefore he was delighted to grace Warwick’s daughter’s wedding with his presence.
It was a joyful occasion and Margaret was happy. There was no friction even between her and Yolande. It was a most felicitous occasion and perhaps the most happy part of it was the obvious affection which was growing up between the handsome Prince and his charming bride.
And now to Paris with a guard of honour to escort them and in the capital city they must be given royal treatment because that was the King’s express order. The streets were hung with tapestry and there was music everywhere.
Only one thing could delight Margaret more and that was to return to England and find a similar welcome awaiting her there.
So much time had to be spent at the various towns on her journey through France that it was February before she reached Barfleur and was ready to sail. Then the weather had turned rough, the wind was fierce and the waves pounded the shore, so that she was advised it would be folly to set sail. Impatiently she glowered at the sea. It was all important that she reach England. She wanted to see Henry; she wanted to show their son to him and the country. For days she waited and when the seas abated a little, in spite of warnings she insisted on setting out. Within a short time the ships were back in port. To go on, declared the captains, would mean to lose them.
Angry and frustrated, she raged against the elements and as soon as she felt the wind was subsiding a little, she set sail again only to be driven back by fresh gales.
People were superstitious and they began to say she was not meant to return to England. This infuriated her and once more she set out and had to come back.
Now everyone was getting nervous except Margaret. She was going to brave the weather and had it not been that she feared to put her son’s life in jeopardy she would have insisted on starting out again.
Then suddenly the wind dropped. Immediately they set sail and with much rejoicing and prayers of thanksgiving they arrived safely in Weymouth.
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It was hardly to be expected that Edward would meekly give up the crown; he realized however that Warwick was a strong enemy and had no doubt decided, knowing him so well, what action he would take and be prepared for it.
However, he could not delay in Holland and accordingly embarked at Flushing on the second day of March in the company of his young brother Richard of Gloucester and Earl Rivers. The rough winds which had tormented Margaret were a source of annoyance to him also and his crossing was delayed for a few days and some time was lost before he came in sight of Cromer. Even then he knew it would be folly to land before he had discovered what sort of welcome he was going to meet so he sent a party ashore to test the political climate. They came back to say it was frigid and that they should not land so they went higher up the coast to Ravenspur. The people of that neighbourhood were no more pleased to see him than they had been at Cromer. They wanted no fighting on their land. They had the rightful King on the throne now and they were for Henry.
They must be told that he came only to claim his dukedom, he declared, and he went so far as to cause his men to wear the ostrich feather badge of the Prince of Wales.
Because they did this his army was allowed to land and the army reached York where their reception was a little more friendly being on Yorkist territory. He then proceeded to Wakefield where he was joined by friends and when he arrived in Oxford his ranks were considerably swelled and his spirits rose accordingly. In the town of Warwick Edward was greeted as King and was proclaimed in the square. Here he delivered a speech to the people and promised that if the Earl of Warwick would disband his army he should have a free pardon.