Read Online The Secret Diary of Eleanor Cobham by Tony Riches - Free Book Online
Authors: Tony Riches
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I looked forward to seeing him now.
‘My needs are modest, but,’ he shook his head and frowned, ‘the greater share of the tithes paid by the villagers are... appropriated by the bishop, who lives in a grand palace.’
I found myself recalling the wealth of my enemy Cardinal Beaufort, who used his position in the church to build such wealth and power that he could even bring down the brother of the king. I also remembered the bishops at my trial, in their gold-trimmed robes.
The priest looked at me again. ‘I should tell you, my lady, I am paid a small allowance by Sir William Beauchamp, Constable of Beaumaris, because of your presence here.’ He smiled at me again. ‘It means I am able to eat well in the castle kitchens.’
I had never thought of it before. I realised that I must also provide an easy living for the soldiers who guard me and the servants who wash my clothes and prepare my food. It was comforting to know that even now, locked up in my tower and cut off from the world, I am of some small use.
As I listened to the priest’s story, I wondered if this was my time to risk taking him into my confidence. My only wish is that my daughter Antigone would be allowed to come and see me, or at least send a note to let me know she is safe and well. The priest could perhaps find some way to help. The danger was that he may stop visiting me with supplies, or worse, he could feel obliged to report me to the sergeant-at-arms. I decided to wait a while, for time is something I have plenty of.
I stood at the window and watched the priest as he shuffled back to his lodgings in the gathering gloom, his hunched posture making him look even older than his years. Just as I was about to look away he turned and raised a hand. I raised my own hand back to him, surprised to feel comfort from such a small gesture of companionship after my lonely imprisonment. I hadn’t even asked his name.
Duke Humphrey became preoccupied, perhaps even obsessed with securing his wife’s lands in Hainault. He worked late into the night, sending long letters bearing his royal seal to potential allies in far off Hainault. He spent every spare moment in careful study of the maps he had obtained of the country and questioned the countess about any detail that could be of advantage. I always suspected his motivation was largely because his older brother had forbidden him to even try. There had been no love between the brothers since the premature death of King Henry V in France.
Humphrey watched impotently from England as his elder brother John continued to rule over their French territories, which he seemed to have done remarkably well. For his own part, Humphrey was struggling to act as Regent with most of parliament opposed to him and his uncle Cardinal Beaufort openly challenging his authority.
Raising an army needed all the favours the duke could call on, as Cardinal Beaufort persuaded the government that the state should not finance what they saw as his self-serving adventure. At first it looked impossible to find enough good men, but he had influential friends and was able to persuade Sir John de Mobray, Duke of Norfolk and the Earl-Marshall of England, to support his claims, in return for Sir John’s appointment as commander once the army arrived in France.
I disliked Sir John, a humourless man, who looked at me with an appraising eye, but I was glad of this turn of events, as many years had passed since Humphrey was last in a battle of any kind. I worried for his safety and also for his judgement, as he had little patience for the manipulative politics of the Hollanders. Sir John de Mobray was a valuable supporter, as he had recent and successful experience both as a soldier and ambassador in France. Although he had not fought with Humphrey at Agincourt, he knew how to command men on the battlefield.
Humphrey took us on the long ride from London to his apartments in Dover Castle. As well as the countess and myself, he ordered
‘My needs are modest, but,’ he shook his head and frowned, ‘the greater share of the tithes paid by the villagers are... appropriated by the bishop, who lives in a grand palace.’
I found myself recalling the wealth of my enemy Cardinal Beaufort, who used his position in the church to build such wealth and power that he could even bring down the brother of the king. I also remembered the bishops at my trial, in their gold-trimmed robes.
The priest looked at me again. ‘I should tell you, my lady, I am paid a small allowance by Sir William Beauchamp, Constable of Beaumaris, because of your presence here.’ He smiled at me again. ‘It means I am able to eat well in the castle kitchens.’
I had never thought of it before. I realised that I must also provide an easy living for the soldiers who guard me and the servants who wash my clothes and prepare my food. It was comforting to know that even now, locked up in my tower and cut off from the world, I am of some small use.
As I listened to the priest’s story, I wondered if this was my time to risk taking him into my confidence. My only wish is that my daughter Antigone would be allowed to come and see me, or at least send a note to let me know she is safe and well. The priest could perhaps find some way to help. The danger was that he may stop visiting me with supplies, or worse, he could feel obliged to report me to the sergeant-at-arms. I decided to wait a while, for time is something I have plenty of.
I stood at the window and watched the priest as he shuffled back to his lodgings in the gathering gloom, his hunched posture making him look even older than his years. Just as I was about to look away he turned and raised a hand. I raised my own hand back to him, surprised to feel comfort from such a small gesture of companionship after my lonely imprisonment. I hadn’t even asked his name.
Duke Humphrey became preoccupied, perhaps even obsessed with securing his wife’s lands in Hainault. He worked late into the night, sending long letters bearing his royal seal to potential allies in far off Hainault. He spent every spare moment in careful study of the maps he had obtained of the country and questioned the countess about any detail that could be of advantage. I always suspected his motivation was largely because his older brother had forbidden him to even try. There had been no love between the brothers since the premature death of King Henry V in France.
Humphrey watched impotently from England as his elder brother John continued to rule over their French territories, which he seemed to have done remarkably well. For his own part, Humphrey was struggling to act as Regent with most of parliament opposed to him and his uncle Cardinal Beaufort openly challenging his authority.
Raising an army needed all the favours the duke could call on, as Cardinal Beaufort persuaded the government that the state should not finance what they saw as his self-serving adventure. At first it looked impossible to find enough good men, but he had influential friends and was able to persuade Sir John de Mobray, Duke of Norfolk and the Earl-Marshall of England, to support his claims, in return for Sir John’s appointment as commander once the army arrived in France.
I disliked Sir John, a humourless man, who looked at me with an appraising eye, but I was glad of this turn of events, as many years had passed since Humphrey was last in a battle of any kind. I worried for his safety and also for his judgement, as he had little patience for the manipulative politics of the Hollanders. Sir John de Mobray was a valuable supporter, as he had recent and successful experience both as a soldier and ambassador in France. Although he had not fought with Humphrey at Agincourt, he knew how to command men on the battlefield.
Humphrey took us on the long ride from London to his apartments in Dover Castle. As well as the countess and myself, he ordered
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