To Hold the Crown: The Story of King Henry VII and Elizabeth of York (10 page)

Cecilia was with her when they dressed her.

“You look very grand,” she said. “Not like our sister anymore.”

“I am the same beneath all these fine robes, Cecilia.”

Not quite, thought Cecilia. You are the King’s wife now.

Did Elizabeth still remember those dreary days in Sanctuary at the time when Richard had taken the crown, when they had not known from one day to the next what their fate would be? Had she forgotten how even their father had had to fight to keep his crown . . . and that it was always the Lancastrians against whom he fought? Now she was one of them. Of course that had to be and marriage between the two houses was better than war. But Elizabeth seemed to have changed sides. In fact she could see no point of view but that of the King. Had it something to do with the mystic ritual of the marriage bed?

I shall find out, Cecilia told herself. And she knew then that she was going to marry John . . . in secret of course, for to announce her intentions openly would most certainly mean that they would be frustrated.

How beautiful Elizabeth looked in her kirtle of purple velvet edged with ermine with her magnificent hair loose, flowing from the circlet of gold studded with pearls and stones of several colors, which they had placed on her head.

She looks so serene, thought Cecilia, as though coronations were commonplace with her. She has no will of her own, now; only that of her husband and her mother-in-law. They decided what she must do and Elizabeth mildly did it. Perhaps that was a happy state to be in. Elizabeth certainly looked happy. Did she ever think of anything but pleasing her husband, submitting to his embraces in order to do her duty and produce one child after another, for that was how it would be, Cecilia was sure.

They had entered Westminster Hall, there to wait that moment when they would set out for the Abbey. The way from the Hall to the Abbey was carpeted with striped cloth, which the people regarded as their own perquisite, for after the Queen had walked on it they were at liberty to cut off pieces which would then be theirs.

So eager were the people to get their pieces of the material that no sooner had the Queen walked over it with her trainbearers than they dashed forward and started to cut the cloth. The ladies who were following were terrified to find themselves surrounded by the rush of people, shouting, abusing each other and even trampling those who had fallen under foot. Fortunately some of the lords, having seen what was happening, rushed forward to rescue the ladies, which they did just in time.

Cecilia going ahead with the Queen looked back and to her horror saw what was happening. Elizabeth knew something was wrong but she went serenely on. Nothing must mar this day. The King would expect her to play her part like a queen.

Cecilia was deeply disturbed; she knew she would never forget that brief glimpse of those people who were descending on the cloth like so many wild animals.

Every vestige of the cloth had disappeared in a very short time, but those who had fallen in the affray had to be carried away as unobtrusively as possible while in the Abbey the ceremony continued. The King with his mother was watching from an enclosed box between the altar and the pulpit. He had said that he wished to witness the ceremony but in no way did he want to take attention from the Queen.

So was Elizabeth of York crowned Queen of England and so, said many, were the Houses of York and Lancaster entirely united forever.

The company then returned to Westminster Hall where the banquet was to be held. The King and his mother did not join the Queen at table but, as they had in the Abbey, watched the proceedings from an enclosed box.

That, thought Cecilia, was taking it a little far. Was it implied that the people would be so overawed by his presence that they would forget the Queen? She did not think that likely. In fact it seemed clear that although the King was accepted, the Queen’s popularity was greater than his. Perhaps that was why he wished to hide himself.

With the King one could never be sure.

She was certain that she must marry John before the King had knowledge of it, for who knew what devious methods he might employ to prevent it if he knew in advance.

She had persuaded John that if they were to marry they must do so in secret.

“I do not think that I am of such great interest to the King now that my sister has borne him a son,” she insisted.

Lord Wells was deeply enamored of the young Princess, and somewhat surprised that she should feel the same about him. He was not a young man but Cecilia was a serious-minded girl and she was determined to choose her own husband.

He was in favor with the King for his family had always been ardent supporters of the Lancastrian cause. His father had died with the Lancastrian army at Towton and at that time his estates had been confiscated by Edward. John’s elder brother Richard was killed during Warwick’s rising leaving John the heir to the estates should they be released. Edward had been notoriously lenient to his enemies and John somehow came into favor during the years of peace. He was present at the coronation of Richard the Third but had never favored that monarch and had been a firm supporter of Henry for there was a family connection with the Countess of Richmond.

Henry had not forgotten his services when he came to the throne and had given him two castles and several grants of manors; moreover the family estates had been restored to him; he had been given the title of viscount and the King clearly trusted him.

It was for this reason that he believed Henry might not frown too deeply on the marriage once it was accomplished although, as Cecilia said, if his permission were asked it would very likely not be given and then marriage would be quite out of the question.

So Cecilia and he were married secretly and gave themselves up to the joy of being together; but of course the marriage could not remain a secret and Cecilia decided that she would tell her sister and ask her to pass on the news to the King.

Elizabeth was in a very happy mood. The coronation had been a great success; she found the King less formidable than he had seemed at first. He appeared to be growing fond of her. She adored her little Arthur though she saw very little of him; she was less worried about her mother now that a match was proposed for her, and there was an atmosphere of peace and serenity all about her.

Cecilia came to see her. There was a change in her. She seemed as though she were very happy about something, and yet at the same time a little apprehensive.

“I wanted to talk to you . . . as a sister,” she said.

“My dear Cecilia,” replied the Queen, “am I not always your good sister?”

“You look very happy today.”

“I am. Henry was so pleased with the coronation . . . apart from those people who got crushed to death.”

“Imagine risking your life for a piece of cloth!”

“I suppose it meant something more than that to them. Cecilia, Henry has been so generous to me. He has given me a grant of seven lordships and manors.”

“Seven. Why it was seven he took from our mother.”

“Our mother forfeited the right. . . .”

“I know. I know.”

Cecilia looked at her sister intently. “He has given you Waltham . . . has he?”

Elizabeth nodded.

“Waltham, Magna, Badewe, Mashbury. Dunmow, Lighe and Farnham.”

Cecilia began to laugh. “He has given you those which he took from our mother.”

“Why should he not? They were available.”

“No reason at all. But it is all so neat. And it keeps them in the family.”

“I think it is very good of the King.”

“To take them from our mother?”

“Our mother was fortunate. She could have been accused of treason. I consider he has been most generous . . . to us both.”

Cecilia thought: Be careful. Don’t alienate her. You need her help.

“Elizabeth,” she said. “I have something to tell you. I want you to do something for me.”

Elizabeth smiled. She really is a sweet-natured and generous creature, thought Cecilia. I should remember that when I criticize her.

“If it is possible . . .”began Cecilia.

“Tell me.”

“I . . . want you to speak to the King on my behalf.”

Little lights of alarm were in the lovely eyes; they were no longer quite so serene.

“Oh sister, what have you done?”

“I have married.”

“Cecilia!”

“Yes, you may well look shocked. I was determined to marry where I wanted to and I have done it.”

“But . . .”

“I know as the Queen’s sister . . . sister-in-law to the King . . . I should have had his consent. Well, I did not, Elizabeth.”

“But why . . . ?”

“You may well ask. For the simple reason that I feared that consent might not have been given if we asked for it.”

“Who is it?”

“Lord Wells.”

Elizabeth looked faintly relieved. “The King has a good opinion of him.”

“And should have. His family have firmly supported Lancaster for years. Elizabeth, will you please speak to the King for me? Will you plead for us? Tell him that we love each other, that no other will do for us, and that he must approve of what we have done.”

Elizabeth was uneasy. The King was not going to like this, and she was to be the one to tell him. How could Cecilia? Why did she not wait? She had always been so firm in her opinions; it had never been possible to shift her from them—for Elizabeth at least.

Elizabeth was sorry for her sister. She was fond of her family. They had been a very loving community. Deep in her heart she was worried about her mother. She fervently wished that people would live in peace with each other and not do things which were a source of irritation to others. She had to hide her anxieties about her mother . . . and now here was Cecilia. She did not know how the King would deal with the matter. She was afraid to anger him—although she had never seen him in anger. She remembered the violent rages of her father. They had not happened often and they were soon over, but he did have more than a touch of what was called the old Plantagenet temper. Henry had none of that. He was always calm, cold almost. She often felt that he considered carefully everything he said before he uttered it.

How he would feel about Cecilia she was not sure. She had had a notion that he was not anxious for her to marry. He had never mentioned a husband for her since their own marriage; and she had noticed that there was never any special place for Cecilia at functions.

Cecilia was now looking at her anxiously. She could see that she would have to take this matter to the King and it would be better for him to hear quietly through her than through any other source for it would not be easy to keep such a matter secret for long.

She said: “I will tell him, Cecilia.”

Cecilia had taken her hand and was looking at her earnestly.

“And you will explain that we love each other . . . that John wanted to ask the King but I would not have that. It was I who thought that if we were married first it would be too late to stop us.”

“I will tell him that, Cecilia. I will try to explain.”

“Thank you, sister.”

Cecilia kissed the Queen on the forehead.

She said: “It is almost as though we were little again. You and I were always good friends, Elizabeth. Do you remember . . . how we thought the others were such babies?” Elizabeth nodded. “And now you are Queen. It is strange but we always thought that Edward . . .”

Elizabeth flinched. It was foolish to bring up their young brothers at this time. Perhaps at any time. Nobody wanted to think of them now. Their disappearance must remain a mystery. To try to solve it might bring forth some evidence which certain people might find embarrassing.

Cecilia went on: “I know the King will listen to you. I am sure he must love you dearly.”

“He does,” said Elizabeth firmly. At another time Cecilia might have said that he loved the alliance they had been able to make between the two houses, but not now. This was not the time.

It seemed only in the bedchamber that the Queen could be alone with the King.

Elizabeth’s women had departed. She was in her long white nightgown, her golden hair in two long plaits giving her a childish look. Soon the King would come in and she was preparing what she would say to him.