I was able to ask him how the King had been at Senlis before he had allowed them to remove him from the army.
“It must have been a difficult decision for him to make,” I said. “I am sure he did it with the utmost reluctance.”
“With the utmost, my lady,” replied the Welshman. “He had been fighting against the disease for some time.”
“You were close to him, I believe.”
“Yes, my lady. I was with him at Agincourt and ever since he has kept me near him.”
“He thought highly of you, I expect.”
“I was honored to serve him.”
“Tell me about him. He was much loved by his men, was he not?”
“It is my belief, my lady, that he was loved more than any king before him, and I doubt that any who follows him will be loved more.”
“You cared for him very much.”
“All his men cared for him. There was no one like him. He was the greatest soldier who ever lived, in my opinion, my lady. All who have been privileged to know him should be proud.”
“He was friendly with his men, was he not?”
“He was always kind and generous. His men knew what was expected of them—which was absolute devotion to duty…as he always gave himself. His decisions were quick. He always knew what should be done. ‘It is impossible,’ he would say. Or ‘It shall be done!’ We all knew exactly what to expect, and it never varied.”
“You make him sound almost impossibly perfect.”
“He was as near perfection as a man can be. He was just. Some would say he was stern. He was, it was true. He made his laws and expected absolute obedience to them. That is the way of great rulers.”
“Sometimes I wonder …” I began. “Sometimes I think…of the cries of women and children who have lost their men and their homes in battle. Such cries haunt me.”
“I know,” he said. “I understand.”
“And I cannot help thinking…why should there have to be war?”
“The King believed firmly that France belonged to him. He planned to bring better rule to that land.” He paused, remembering, I supposed, that he was speaking against my family.
I smiled at him and then began to ask myself why I was talking thus to this man. I could not understand myself. I was, of course, in a highly emotional state, and he had such a kind face, such a sympathetic manner.
I wanted to hear a vindication of Henry. I wanted to forget those terrible doubts which had come to me. I thought of him on his deathbed, when it had not occurred to him to ask forgiveness for the sufferings he had caused to so many innocent people.
“My lady, the King considered his men as he did himself. He was never vengeful to an enemy, never vindictive. He was always merciful. He forbade pilfering and disrespect to women. He shared the hardships of his soldiers, he gave them example after example of his own bravery.”
“You make a hero of him.”
“He was a hero, Madam.”
I smiled, I had been greatly comforted by my conversation with this man.
I said to him: “I do not know your name.”
And he answered: “It is Owen Tudor.”
They made an effigy of Henry. It was life-size, constructed from boiled leather and painted to make it resemble his living self. On the head was set a crown, in the right hand a scepter and in the left an orb. The effigy was put upon a carriage and we set out.
It was an impressive cavalcade, with noblemen such as the Duke of Exeter and the Earl of March carrying the banners of the saints, and 400 men-at-arms in black armor riding with the bier. I followed at some distance.
Our first stop was St.-Ivian in Abbeville, where we rested for a day and night, and all through that day Masses were sung for the saving of his soul.
At length we came to Calais.
It seemed long since his death, for it was at this time October 12 and he had died on the last day of August.
There followed the journey across the Channel, and how relieved I was when I saw the white cliffs looming ahead. I thought of my child. It was nearly five months since I had seen him. Would he know me? I wondered. How foolish! Of course he would not. He had been too young to know me when I had left. But he would have been safe in Guillemote’s care. But what would happen now that he was King?
Never had I wished so much that I had been born in humbler circumstances. If I were but a humble noblewoman coming home to her child, I could find some contentment. Why did people crave for crowns? As far as I could see, they brought nothing but unhappiness.
As soon as I stepped on English soil, the ceremonies began again.
Waiting on the shore were fifteen bishops and numerous abbots in their miters and vestments; and the solemn procession set out for Blackheath.
The funeral took place on a dark November day when Henry was buried in the Chapel of the Confessor in Westminster Abbey. It was more than three months since his death and I still could not get accustomed to the fact that I would not see him again.
I had ordered that a statue should be made in silver plate with a head of pure silver gilt and set on his tomb with an inscription to say it came from me.
And when it was over, I did what I had been longing to do for some time. I went down to Windsor to see the new King of England, who was not quite one year old.
TRUE LOVE
It was more than three months since Henry had died when I arrived in Windsor. Guillemote and my ladies were overcome with emotion. We embraced each other joyfully. Guillemote said: “He is well. He is waiting for you.”
I ran up the stairs with the ladies behind me. I threw open the door and beheld my son. He was seated on the floor playing with a silver whistle, and in that moment the loss of my husband and my concern for the future were forgotten. I ran to him and knelt beside him. He regarded me solemnly, and my happiness was tinged with sadness because he did not recognize me. I was a stranger to him, and he was not sure what I was doing in his nursery.
I seized him in my arms. “Henry,” I cried, “little Henry…this is your mother come to you.”
He drew himself away, frowning; then he looked around him and, seeing Guillemote standing there, he gave a little crow of triumph and held out his arms to her.
She picked him up. “There, my precious. ’Tis your mother who loves you and is waiting to tell you so.”
He turned his head slightly and regarded me with suspicion.
Guillemote sat down and beckoned me to sit beside her.
“There,” she crooned and placed him on my lap. She knelt down beside us and I noticed how he clung to her hand.
“Poor little mite,” she went on. “He does not know his mother. It is so long, my lady, and he is very little. It will come. He learns quickly, our little one.”
Henry did learn quickly. In less than ten minutes he had accepted me. He had made up his mind that I meant no harm. I was a friend of his dear Guillemote, and if she accepted me, so would he.
I wondered if I should ever equal her in his affections, and I was filled with resentment against a fate which separated a mother from her baby.
I was greatly relieved to be at Windsor again with my ladies around me. How relaxing it was to be able to talk without considering one’s words first.
“It is so good to be with you again,” I told them. “I hope we shall be left in peace for a while.”