The Secret Diary of Eleanor Cobham Read online

  Thanks to Jacqueline’s good word for me I also soon became part of the queen’s inner circle at Windsor. It was difficult for me at first, as although my mother had taught me French she had barely prepared me for the rich sophistication of Queen Catherine’s court. I learned to listen though, and observe. The complex intrigues of the queen’s court fascinated me and it proved to be an excellent preparation for what was to come later. Most exciting of all was to be so close to the centre of power and wealth in the land. I longed to see the duke once more and felt a strange frisson of anticipation and excitement at the thought of his return.

  There was a moment in November at Windsor I remember clearly. I was alone with the countess in her apartment, helping her to write another of her coded letters to the Dowager Margaret in France. She surprised me with her frank description of our situation, clearly placing much trust in my discretion and her certainty the letter would never be read by anyone other than her mother. She was telling her mother Humphrey was as good as betrothed to her and if the queen and the baby were not to survive the impending birth, he would become King of England, France and Holland, with her as his queen.

  I must confess I was happy she was wrong, as I had grown to like Queen Catherine. The new heir to the throne, a strong and healthy boy, was born safely in the first week of December. By then the king and Duke Humphrey were embattled with their campaign in France and unable to return. An exhausted messenger eventually returned with the news that the king was engaged in the siege of Meaux, north of Paris.

  Despite the freezing winter rains, the king was determined to defeat Jean de Gast, the Bastard de Vaurus, who had been capturing travellers on their way to Paris and hanging them in the market-place if a ransom wasn’t paid. King Henry V’s reputation in France depended on his success, so he had resolved to take the fortress of Meaux whatever the cost. The king commanded the queen to bring the new prince to France once she was well enough. We had a joyous Christmas at Windsor and the countess was invited to be godmother to the new prince, holding him at the font as he was christened Henry, after his father and grandfather, next in the line of kings of England.

  In the spring of 1422 the queen felt ready to make the long journey to France with her infant son and was to be escorted by John, Duke of Bedford, who had been acting as regent. This meant Duke Humphrey was commanded to replace his elder brother as the new Regent and Lord Protector in King Henry V’s continued absence. I returned to Humphrey’s London mansion by the Thames with the countess and was waiting there to welcome him on his arrival.

  I was now truly close to the heart of power, as Humphrey was king in all but name, the most important person in the land. The countess now openly sought his attention and made no secret of her intention to marry him. She asked me to arrange a banquet fit for a king to celebrate his new appointment and safe return from the war in France. My time at the queen’s court at Windsor Castle had been well spent, as I had attended many royal banquets and had no difficulty in fulfilling the wishes of the countess. I also had the advantage of having gained some insight into Duke Humphrey’s tastes in music and the arts.

  The king’s own trumpeters played a rousing royal fanfare to herald the entry of the duke with the countess on his arm. The food was the finest ever seen in London, with every type of wild bird and venison from the king’s royal parks. At the beginning of each course minstrels and jugglers entertained the diners and for the highlight of the banquet I had arranged players to put on a pageant. They performed the tale of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, with expensive costumes and a golden crown for Duke Humphrey, who played the part of King Arthur of Camelot.

  Countess Jacqueline chose for herself the role of the young Queen Guinevere but had little to do other than sit at King Arthur’s side and remain silent. I chose to play Lady Bertilak, the flirtatious and intelligent young wife who tempts the chivalrous knight Sir Gawain. As required by the play, in each of my three seduction scenes I changed my costumes, from the elegant dress of a modest lady in the first, to voluptuous and revealing at the end. The effect was not wasted on the duke, and I watched his eyes as I recited my lines of courtly love.

  As a finale, I arranged for the duke’s talented minstrels to play his favourite songs, with dancing and music to end the evening. Much fine wine was drunk and the duke clearly enjoyed himself, joining in the rousing chorus and congratulating Countess Jacqueline on her success. She had never looked happier and had shown good judgement by her plan, as from that moment on it was clear they would marry.

  Many years later I confessed to him she had almost no part in the arrangements, and that I had secretly managed to include amongst the specially invited guests my father and his new wife, as well as my sister and two brothers, who really had no place at court. I also took the opportunity to have the queen’s own seamstress make me a gown of rare Persian silk edged with gold. Humphrey had admitted Jacqueline had taken credit for every detail of the banquet, but he had hardly been able to take his eyes off me the entire evening. That was, he said, the moment he fell in love with me.

  September 1450

  Inimici autem mei vivunt

  The coming of autumn to the castle has also brought a visitor of such importance I begin to hope I may be rescued after all. Late one afternoon a noisy commotion came from the direction of the south gatehouse. There was much loud shouting and I could hear the heavy boots of soldiers running in the corridor. They had placed guards at my door. It had never happened before, so I knew something important was happening. I listened for over an hour but the castle walls are thick. I could hear nothing of what was happening outside and could see nothing from the narrow windows of my tower.

  My first thought was that the king had been overthrown for his incompetence. The rioting that started in Kent reached London last month, so it could be it has finally reached Anglesey. I asked the servant who brought my supper if she could tell me what was going on. She was younger than the others and one of the few English speaking women working at Beaumaris who did not seem afraid of me. She told me a ship from Ireland had tried to land at the castle quay and was turned away by the sergeant-at-arms and soldiers of the guard. The gatehouses had been sealed off and no one allowed in or out since. Even those who lived outside the castle had been told they must remain, by order of William Bulkeley. The rumour in the kitchens was that the ship carried no less than Richard, the Duke of York.

  Richard is a Plantagenet, one of the wealthiest land owners and most powerful men in the country. He is a cousin of my husband and once supported his open opposition to the policies of our enemy, Cardinal Henry Beaufort. I find it hard not to believe his attempted landing at the castle means he intended to see me. His father Richard, Earl of Cambridge, was beheaded by my husband’s brother King Henry V for his part in the Southampton Plot, so although Richard claims loyalty to the king, he may see his chance. There is still no heir to the throne and it is possible he intends to take advantage of the public dissent. Now my husband is dead, the way is clear to put himself forward as heir apparent to the crown.

  It was nearly a whole week later that I was visited by Lady Ellen, who was in some distress. She told me it was indeed Richard, Duke of York, who had sailed that day into Beaumaris from his castle in Ireland. It had fallen to her husband and the castle guard to arrest him, on orders from the king. The duke was determined to land at the castle dock, the safest landing place for his ship on this side of the island.

  Lady Ellen confided that her husband was in a quandary, as he had no wish to arrest and imprison such a powerful and important man. He had shown true courage, as he ordered the barbican on the south gatehouse to be closed off, remaining with a small force of armed men outside to prevent the duke’s ship from landing or entering the castle dock, at great risk to himself.

  Richard had been angry and threatened he would report this interference by her husband and his men to the king, but William Bulkeley did not give in. The duke eventually moored in the small harbour at Beaumar
is, a shallow place used by the ferry and fishing boats. Ellen told me Thomas Norris , captain of the town of Beaumaris, met the duke there with five soldiers and denied him landing for supplies. Duke Richard then crossed to the mainland where Ellen’s own father barred his way with Lord Sudeley, the king’s captain in Conway town, surrounded by his garrison of soldiers.

  The duke and his small group of armed men forced their way through, as no one cared much for the inept king or his incompetent parliament, so made no move to fight or detain him. He is now thought to be heading to his castle in Ludlow to rally his supporters. Ellen fears that if Richard of York claims the throne he will remember his threat to deal harshly with those who had dared to bar his way. She has heard rumours that rebels in Kent and Sussex claim to be acting in the names of Mortimer and York. The riots in London have given him the cause he needed, so I am sure Richard is capable of raising an army of fighting men and marching against the king.

  Lady Ellen’s husband, my jailer, told her Duke Richard did not ask to see me or even mention my name. Although he clearly wished to moor his ship in the castle dock, he and his crew were seeking a safe haven and supplies for a journey. The duke himself made no move to enter the castle. He has been here before, so knows how easily it can be defended against his small force. I could tell from the look in her eyes that Ellen doubted the duke had cared about me. He was simply passing through Wales on his way to confront King Henry VI.

  Duke Humphrey’s house in London became one of the most important places in the country, with many high ranking people coming and going. Some wanted favours, calling to renew their relations with the new regent. Others needed decisions made, disputes settled and guidance on matters of state. At the centre of it all, enjoying all the attention and false compliments, was the Countess Jacqueline, supported by her ladies-in-waiting. She had taken effortlessly to the role of the duke’s hostess, entertaining the most distinguished visitors while Humphrey was in meetings.

  The duke was also enjoying his new importance. He later told me of his frustration having to share the role of regent with his brother John. Although Humphrey was a prince in the line of royal succession, he was the youngest of four sons of the king and had never been expected to take the role. Instead, he had been given the best possible education, in preparation for a life as a scholar knight or even in the church. He had also not been expected to prove such an able military commander and all he had achieved had prepared him well for the challenging task of the temporary regency.

  As well as overseeing the meetings of Parliament, Humphrey was empowered to do all things necessary for the welfare of the country and to exercise the royal prerogative in ecclesiastical matters, giving him effective control of church and state. Looking back I can see he presided over one of the most peaceful times I can remember in England.

  The king’s war in France was beginning to outlive its popularity and had none of the glamour of a victory such as Agincourt. There were signs the soldiers were tiring of the endless sieges and Humphrey realised most people in England had no idea of the patient diplomacy needed to secure peace in France.

  Countess Jacqueline longed to see more of the towns and cities of England, so she persuaded Humphrey it would be a good idea for us to embark on a grand ‘progress’, taking a vast retinue of supporters to visit the most important towns and cities of the land. The king had last toured the country when he married Catherine, but that had been a different matter. He was preoccupied with the war and only interested in gathering support for his next campaign in France. Humphrey was visiting the towns and cities to show the people he understood the changes that were sweeping through the country, and aimed to win new friends and supporters. Wealthy merchants and traders competed with each other to secure titles and favour.

  It was an exciting time for me, as I had never travelled far before and we were welcomed as royalty everywhere we went. Countess Jacqueline paid for the finest seamstresses in London to make silk dresses for her ladies-in-waiting. She even loaned me her gold and silver jewellery, diamond rings, pearl necklaces, worth more than I could ever dream of owning.

  I needed to take care, for more than once I was mistaken for the countess herself. The duke also flattered me with his attention and began to take an interest in improving my education. He let me have my pick of his books, one of the finest collections in the country, and promised to introduce me to his favourite poets.

  I now have to wear my thick woollen cloak on my walks, as protection from the biting autumn winds. The early morning skies are grey with mist and the noisy gulls circle my tower and roost on the battlements, like huddled grey harbingers of the cold winter to come. The castle has grown quieter now. No more important visitors are expected now the nights draw in and I am alone and forgotten. Writing about the events that changed my life makes me melancholy but the fresh air reminds me how fortunate I am to be one of the few survivors of those times.

  Cardinal Beaufort, for all his clever scheming and trickery, is now dead, managing to outlive my poor husband by barely one month. I was right to fear Henry Beaufort and know he was the man behind my downfall. My imprisonment makes it hard for me to be certain of rumours, but Lady Ellen heard he was terrified of meeting his maker and died screaming, offering the whole treasury of England in return for living a while longer.

  I wonder if his many sins gave him a heavy conscience. As well as plotting the ruin of my family, he was guilty of cruelly burning young Joan, Maid of Orleans. It was my husband’s long dead brother John, Duke of Bedford, who paid the Burgundians ten thousand francs for Joan but the cardinal presided over the deceit of her long trial.

  As with me, they charged her with heresy, using magic and witchcraft. Cardinal Beaufort refused her appeal for mercy to the pope, knowing she would be saved. Henry Beaufort condoned the torture of the devoutly Christian girl and planned the trickery of her confession. John signed the order, in the king’s name, sentencing her to be burned at the stake as a witch, and it was by Cardinal Beaufort’s order that her ashes were put into a sack and thrown into the River Seine.

  I stop at the castle chapel and light a candle in memory of poor Joan. Not because I believe in God, but because like me she was cruelly wronged and should not be forgotten. A second candle flickers in the cold chapel for my beloved Duke Humphrey. I do not know how he met his end; only that he was arrested and died in custody. A third candle is lit for my son Arthur, hanged by the Duke of Suffolk for treason against the king. I grieve for his innocent soul.

  It was on our tour of England that the first signs of the duke’s enemies began to emerge. He was careful to be sure his duties did not exceed the official business of the kingdom and representation of the king at ceremonial functions, but he was also ambitious. It was only natural, having had a taste of power, to wonder if he might be able to change the country for the good. The gossiping nobles accused him of ‘pandering to the populace’ and as his popularity increased, so did the opposition shown to him by his peers, the ruling class and of course the highest ranking members of the church, led by Cardinal Henry Beaufort.

  I also watched as the duke and countess became closer and Jacqueline began planning for a new life as his future bride. There was of course an obstacle to their marriage. Jacqueline was still officially married to the Duke of Brabant. She told me Duke John had agreed to the arranged marriage for her money and lands, and had treated her badly. She conveniently decided the marriage was cursed because they committed a mortal sin, so it should be annulled as soon as possible so she could be free to marry Humphrey.

  Advisors helped her to prepare a statement of reasons why the union was invalid. They argued that as the children of a brother and sister, the duke and countess were first cousins. Jacqueline’s first husband, John of Touraine, was a blood relation of John of Brabant and Jacqueline’s mother was godmother to John of Brabant. So, he argued, John and Jacqueline were therefore spiritual brother and sister. Finally and most importantly, the first papal dispensation
allowing their marriage had been annulled by the pope.

  Humphrey first came to my room when we were in the city of York. I pretended surprise but had been eagerly anticipating his visit, as I had seen how he looked at me across the room as he spoke to some civic dignitary or made a speech. I was happy to encourage his attentions. We had been spending every waking moment together and he was opening my mind to a whole new world, riding together from one town to the next, with only Countess Jacqueline between us.

  In most of the places we stayed, my room adjoined that of the countess, but on our visit to the city of York the duke arranged that I stayed the night in the house of a wealthy merchant. It was several streets away from Jacqueline and I thought there had been some mistake. My room was far too grand for a lady-in-waiting, even accounting for my sudden rise in status. It was only when I opened the door to the duke that I knew of his plan.

  My mother told me the secret of a woman’s power over men was to always be hard to get. I know she meant well with her advice but I forgot it in an instant. It didn’t matter. I wanted him perhaps even more than he desired me. My life changed from the moment he stepped into the room and I closed the door behind him. The memory of that night is still fresh despite the troubles I have known since. He brought a fine bottle of French brandy and two crystal glasses, which he filled generously, leaving me in no doubt of his intentions.