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To Hold the Crown: The Story of King Henry VII and Elizabeth of York - Jean Plaidy
- Дата:26.06.2024
- Категория: Разная литература / Прочее
- Название: To Hold the Crown: The Story of King Henry VII and Elizabeth of York
- Автор: Jean Plaidy
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Аудиокнига "To Hold the Crown: The Story of King Henry VII and Elizabeth of York" от Jean Plaidy
👑 В аудиокниге "To Hold the Crown: The Story of King Henry VII and Elizabeth of York" вы окунетесь в захватывающий рассказ о короле Генрихе VII и Елизавете из Йорка. Эта история о любви, интригах и борьбе за власть перенесет вас в средневековую Англию, где каждый шаг королей и их наследников был пропитан политическими заговорами и семейными интригами.
🏰 Главный герой книги, король Генрих VII, стремится удержать корону и укрепить свою династию Тюдоров. Его жена, принцесса Елизавета из Йорка, становится для него опорой и союзницей в борьбе за власть. Их история полна испытаний, но их любовь и верность друг другу помогают преодолеть все трудности.
🎧 Автор аудиокниги, Jean Plaidy, виртуозно воссоздает атмосферу средневековой Англии, оживляя исторические факты и персонажей. Ее книги погружают слушателей в мир старинных замков, дворцовых интриг и рыцарских турниров.
📚 Jean Plaidy - псевдоним популярной британской писательницы Элинор Бёртон, которая специализировалась на исторических романах. Ее произведения пользуются огромной популярностью у любителей истории и романтики.
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Now he had a young girl, Germaine de Foix, and this fact brought anxious furrows to the brow of the King of England for Germaine de Foix was a niece of Louis the Twelfth of France, which must mean bonds of friendship between Spain and Henry’s old enemy, France.
Henry had not said definitely that there would be no marriage with the Prince of Wales. He did not want to do that. In fact to have abandoned her altogether would have meant a return of her dowry and he was not prepared to let that go out of the country. But she knew that he was sending out feelers for a possible bride for the Prince of Wales. She knew that Marguerite of Angoulême had been suggested for young Henry and her mother Louise of Savoy for the elder.
She fancied that rejection from Angoulême had been the reason for these propositions coming to nothing, and she had heard that Louise had seen a picture of the King and found it repulsive, as no doubt she did his parsimonious habits. The real reason perhaps was that she was so wrapped up in her son François, the young Duke whom she called her Caesar, that she could not bear to be parted from him; and the same applied to Marguerite.
In any case the King was still seeking a bride and there had been no further suggestions for the Prince of Wales.
Just before Christmas she begged an audience with the King and after a while this was granted.
She was amazed by his frail looks. He was thin and there was a yellowish tinge to his skin, but his eyes were sharp and shrewdlooking as ever.
“My lord,” she said, “I cannot go on as I am. I have had no new clothes for two years; my servants are not paid. I must be able to live with dignity.”
“Have you applied to your father?” he asked.
“My father says I should apply to you.”
He lifted his shoulders. “You are his daughter.”
“I am yours too. I was Arthur’s wife.”
“That was scarcely a marriage, dear lady. Your father does not behave in a seemly fashion I hear.”
She began to feel hysterical. She must have help from somewhere. She could not go on in this way. Her apartments were cold and there was no means of heating them.
She told him this; her voice was raised and she was near to tears.
The King looked shocked.
“Pray calm yourself, my lady,” he said. “I think that you forget what is due from us both.”
She had clenched her fists together, “I am desperate . . . desperate. Either help me or send me to my father.”
The King said: “For the moment you should go back to your apartments. You are overwrought. I will do something to relieve your situation.”
What he had done was to invite her to come to Court for Christmas. This had disconcerted her. How could she mingle with the fine ladies of the Court in her threadbare gowns? Yet how could she spend the money which such a visit would necessarily require?
But because it was the King’s command that she should go to Court she must do so, and when she was installed in a small apartment there one of the King’s ambassadors came to her. He came, he said, on the command of the King to discuss her difficulties. She should rejoice for the King had given the matter his consideration.
She was tremendously relieved . . . but only for a few moments. When she heard the King’s solution, she was overcome with dismay.
“My lady, the King realizes that the upkeep of Durham House is beyond your means. Therefore he offers you a home here at Court. He is dismissing the members of your household whom you will no longer need. He says it is small wonder that you cannot pay your servants. The answer is that you have far too many. He is dismissing all but five of your ladies, and he is leaving you your Master of Hall, your treasurer and your physician. Then you will have your apartments here at Court. Thus you will be in a position to live in accordance with your means.”
She was dumbfounded. He had helped her by taking away most of those who were her friends.
She was so distraught that she sent at once for her Confessor. She wanted to pray with him, to ask him to help her to bear this fresh burden, which had been put upon her by a cynical king.
He could not be found and when she sent for her physician he told her that her Spanish Confessor was one of those who had been dismissed.
So here she was at Court—even more wretched than she had been at Durham House. Her expenses might have decreased but her misery had intensified.
There was only one ray of hope at that time. On occasions she saw the Prince of Wales. He was always aware of her, she knew. Sometimes their eyes would meet and in his would be a smile, which was almost conspiratorial.
What did that mean? she wondered.
She looked for him on every occasion. She felt happier when he was there.
There was only one way she could escape from his intolerable situation. That would be through marriage with the Prince of Wales.
The King was by no means a happy man. He was still unmarried and he had one son only. True, Henry was growing into splendid manhood. He was already taller than his father, he was outstandingly handsome and with his light auburn hair and fair skin he was admired wherever he went. He took great care always to be dressed to the best advantage. He liked to show off his well-shaped legs and the sumptuous velvets and brocades of his garments were the talk of the Court.
All very well, thought the King, but I hope the boy is not going to be extravagant.
Certainly that could be curbed while the King lived but as Henry said to Dudley and Empson, it would be intolerable if the Prince believed that when he came to the throne he could plunge into that storehouse of carefully built-up treasure and squander it.
Everyone made excuses for him. He was young yet. He had great charm and good looks; he was admired by the people. When he grew older he would realize his responsibilities.
But would he?
The King watched his son closely, curbed his exuberance, keeping him at his side. He was determined that the Prince should not yet be allowed to set up a household at Ludlow but remain at the King’s Court.
The rift with Ferdinand was growing. Henry was in fact seeking friendship with Philip, Juana’s husband, who since the death of Queen Isabella had become virtually ruler of Castile. (Juana was the Queen, but women did not count, certainly not one who was half mad and at the same time besottedly in love with her husband so that he could do anything he would with her.) When Philip’s father Maximilian died Philip would be the most powerful man in Europe. He was therefore a man to be cultivated and the deeper the rift between Henry and Ferdinand the more Henry would need Philip’s friendship to stand against the French. Moreover Ferdinand’s marriage with the niece of the King of France had made this more important than ever.
Henry’s fury with Ferdinand was increased when English merchants trading in Castile were refused the privileges they had enjoyed for some time under Isabella’s rule and were unable to do business. Consequently they returned with their cargo of cloth and did not bring back the wine and oil the country needed. Ferdinand swore that this was no fault of his. It had been his government who had refused the English merchants permission to do business. He had done his best to persuade them to allow the trade to proceed as before but they had refused. The English merchants had come to Richmond to complain to the King and they were in a very angry mood. Henry hated to see business deals frustrated; he had great difficulty in placating the merchants and although he was not to blame, people had looked to him to make the country prosperous and if he failed to do so he would be the one to answer for the failure.
Indeed he needed to court the friendship of Philip who would be only too ready to go against his father-in-law for Ferdinand was very resentful that Isabella should have declared her mad daughter Juana Queen of Castile, for that meant handing over that country to Juana’s husband Philip.
But there was one other matter which made Henry feel he needed Philip’s friendship.
At the time of the rebellion of Edmund de la Pole, Earl of Suffolk, which had given the King the opportunity to dispose of Sir James Tyrell and thus put an end to that specter, which had haunted him for a long time, the Earl had been exiled.
Perhaps it was a mistake to send people into exile. One never knew what they were plotting there. On the other hand Henry always avoided bloodshed except when he considered it absolutely necessary.
Four years had passed since Suffolk was brought to trial and during that time he had been in Aix. It was dangerous of course. But Henry had expected that and he watched the antics of his enemy very closely. At the time of Suffolk’s trial he had thought his claim to the throne was too remote to be of great importance. After all it came through his mother’s being sister to Edward the Fourth. Henry now realized that he should have been more careful and he would give a great deal to have Suffolk safely in the Tower.
He had signed a treaty with the Emperor Maximilian, father of Philip, in which Maximilian had promised he would not help English rebels, even though these rebels should claim the title of duke.
Suffolk had clearly been meant in this for he regarded himself as a duke even though his titles had been confiscated.
In spite of this Suffolk stayed at Aix for two years and when he did finally go after having been promised safe conduct, he was arrested in Gelderland and imprisoned in the Castle of Hattem. Shortly after his incarceration there, this castle had been captured by Philip; thus Suffolk had passed into the hands of the man whose friendship Henry now so ardently sought and one of the main reasons for this was Philip’s possession of Suffolk.
There were so many things in Henry’s mind. His spirits would have been considerably lifted if he could have found a bride. He missed Elizabeth more than he had thought possible. She had been so docile, never complaining, accepting his superior wisdom in all things. Having enjoyed the company of such a wife it was not surprising that he missed it and desperately longed to replace her.
The country was prospering as never before and his ministers thought it rather foolish of him to be so constantly worrying about a claimant to the throne springing up. It was due to those alarming insurrections of Lambert Simnel and Perkin Warbeck . . . and of course the continued fears concerning the Princes in the Tower. They had colored his outlook to such an extent that there were times when they dominated all else.
But his ministers were right. He had nothing to fear. Nevertheless he would do what he could to cultivate Philip’s friendship, and he would seek a bride and remarry, which would remind himself that he was young yet. He would watch over the development of young Henry and mold him as the king he would one day be. And as for his son’s marriage, well, if an opportunity turned up he was free to take it. He kept telling himself that he was in no way bound to the marriage with Katharine of Aragon.
But the woman was an incessant nuisance. She was constantly grumbling and even now that she had free quarters at Court she went round like a messenger of doom trying to win the sympathy of those about her.
She had no money to buy clothes; she could not pay her servants; the few women who were left to her could not marry because she could not provide them with dowries; her undergarments had been mended so many times that there was nothing left of them but patches.
She was in a sorry state and worst of all she did not know whether she was the prospective Princess of Wales or not.
“We are not committed,” said the King. “Let her understand that.”
He had little thought to waste on her; he was wondering how he could best cultivate the friendship of Philip.
Then fate played into his hands.
That January the greatest storm the English ever remembered struck the island; the gale raged all through the day and night; even in London roofs blew from houses and it was unsafe to be in the streets. Among other buildings St. Paul’s Cathedral was damaged, but all this was nothing compared with the fury of the gale along the coasts.
It so happened that Philip with his wife Juana was at this time on the high seas. They were on their way to claim the crown of Castile and were making the journey by sea because the King of France would not permit them to cross his land.
So Philip had set sail from the Netherlands with his army and was in the English Channel when the full force of the storm struck his fleet. It was scattered; ships were sunk and some were washed ashore along the English coast.
With Philip was his wife Juana whom he would have preferred to be without. Philip was twenty-eight years old; he had already earned the title of Philip the Handsome and it fitted him. His long golden hair and fine features gave him the appearance of a Greek god and his large blue eyes and skin were fresh and healthy. If he was not tall, he was not short—perhaps slightly above medium height. Perhaps if he were older those perfect features might have been spoiled by marks of debauchery, but at this time, in spite of the life he led, they remained unsullied.
He had married Juana for Castile and he always said they might have lived together in reasonable harmony if she had not become so enamored of him that she could not bear him out of her sight and when they were together she could not prevent herself showing in every possible way her passionate devotion to him. As she was more than a little unbalanced, this passion for her husband—particularly in view of the life he liked to lead—assumed violent demonstrations. The incident of the cropped-haired mistress was but one. Her desire for Philip was insatiable and the stronger it grew so did his revulsion for her.
It was a very unhappy state of affairs, but on this occasion he had to endure her company for they were on their way to Castile where she would have to claim the crown of Castile.
He had often wondered whether he could put her away. That she was mad, many would be ready to admit if they dared. But surely, as admitting it was so would please him very much, they need have little fear from that. He always had to remember though that the crown came through her. She would be ready to give him all power in Castile but in exchange she would want him with her night and day.
It is too big a price to ask, he thought, even for Castile.
The marriage had been fruitful so Philip had done his duty by the woman. Their son Charles would be one of the most powerful men in Europe one day but his father would take that role before him. On the death of the Emperor, now that he had Castile as well, much of Europe would fall into Philip’s hands.
He had thought that once Juana had children he would be able to escape from her wearying passion. It was not so. She was proud of them, of course, loved them in fact, but she made it clear that all her passionate desire was still concentrated on her husband.
Of course he was attractive—one of the most desirable men in the world, and he had evidence of that for he could not remember one woman who had denied him once he made his wishes known. But Juana’s passion for him, to which her madness seemed to add a dangerous fuel, did not abate. He had begun to fear it never would.
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