Throughout the Tower the festive spirit was apparent. St Peter ad Vincula
was a very special saint and the warders and guards told each other it was only right that on this day he should be honoured.
Dusk fell. Now was the time. There were sound of revelry throughout the
Tower. The Queen said she was pleased that the servants of the Tower should celebrate the occasion but she would retire early and rest.
She waited. Everything had been timed perfectly. She prayed that there
might be no hitch. Alspaye had seen that those guards in the vicinity of
Mortimer’s dungeon had been given a wine which was particularly potent; it had also been laced with some special herbs reputed to add to the soporific effect.
It would be soon now.
She visualized the scene in the dungeon. The guard at the door slumped on
the floor. Alspaye and Mortimer removing the stone, slipping quietly through to the kitchens. Would there be a hitch there? Suppose one of the cooks was not completely drunk? Oh, but they would be. They, like the guards, had had their wine specially treated.
How much they owed Alspaye! This could never have been arranged
without him. They had been clever. Help from within, help from without. It was certain to succeed.
Wrapping a concealing cloak about her she came out of her palace quarters
and made her way to the inner ward.
There was no sign of them. Her heart seemed as though it would fail her. If anything went wrong she felt she would die, for if Mortimer were caught trying to escape there would be no hope for him.
Oh what a fool Edward was to have imprisoned him in the first place! Oh,
but thank God for Edward’s folly! Anyone but Edward would have recognized
Mortimer’s superb qualities and never have let him live. Oh thank God again and again for Edward’s folly.
A sound behind her. A movement. There they were. Relief flooded over her.
Safe! The most difficult part accomplished.
They saw her and Mortimer ran towards her. He had her in his arms.
‘Oh, gentle Mortimer,’ she cried, ‘if I could but come with you.’
Alspaye said: ‘There is no time to lose. At any moment they could discover we have gone.’
‘Where is the ladder?’ said Mortimer.
It had been her task to bring that to them. She produced it and Alspaye threw it over the wall.
‘Now, my lord Mortimer, you go first.’
‘Let me hold it for you,’ said the Queen. ‘Good-bye, dear gentle Mortimer.’
One last embrace. ‘To France and our meeting,’ he said. ‘Pray God it be
soon.’
He was over. She looked down and saw him standing there safe on the other
side of the wall.
It was Alspaye’s turn. In a few seconds he was standing beside Mortimer.
She threw down the rope and returned to her apartments to await the discovery of the missing captives..
―――――――
It was not difficult to find their way to that spot where the boat was to be ready for them. The merchants had not failed them. It was there.
‘We have done it!’ cried Mortimer.
‘Not yet, my lord,’ replied Alspaye. ‘We have escaped from the Tower― no
mean feat, I agree. But we cannot boast of our success until we are safe in France.’
Indeed they had good friends. The horses were waiting for them— fresh and
ready for the journey, with seven men from Mortimer’s household attending
them.
This was indeed good fortune.
‘My lord,’ said Alspaye, ‘you have friends who love you dearly.’
‘Or mayhap hate the Despensers,’ replied Mortimer. They rode through the
night until they reached the coast of Hampshire.
Out at sea lay a ship. It was the one which would take them to France.
It was not difficult to hire a small boat.
Mortimer bade his men be cautious for by this time it might well be that his escape had been discovered and warning given to look out for anyone leaving for the Continent.
‘Tell them,’ he said, ‘that we want a small boat to go to the Isle of Wight.’
This was done, the boat procured and very soon it was skimming across the
water.
Mortimer boarded the big ship. The Captain who had been waiting for him
gave orders to sail as soon as the tide and winds were favourable.
Later that day Roger de Mortimer and Gerard de Alspaye landed in France.
As they drank wine in a riverside tavern and congratulated themselves on
their good fortune, Mortimer said: ‘We have come so far. Now the real work begins.’
THE QUEEN PLOTS
EDWARD was in Lancashire when a messenger arrived from London with
the news that Roger de Mortimer had escaped from the Tower.
A fury seized him. He realized at once that he should never have allowed
this to happen. Oh what a stupid thing to have done! To have allowed Mortimer to keep his head.
It was because dear Hugh had not been with him at the time of Mortimer’s
capture, and Mortimer had been in the Tower by the time Hugh was back. Hugh was so clever. He foresaw disaster. And now Mortimer was free!
Hugh came in to see him and was clearly perturbed by the news when he
heard it.
‘Never mind, sweet lord, we need not fear him. We shall stand against him
and all his Marcher barons.’
‘I know, Hugh, I know. But to think he was allowed to get away from the
Tower. What could have happened?’
‘The feast of St Peter ad Vincula was it? You know what these people are.
Give them a chance to carouse― and they forget their duty.’
‘Someone should answer for this.’
‘They will, dear lord, they will.’
When they learned something of how the escape had taken place they were
even more disturbed.
‘He could only have done it with help from within,’ declared Hugh.
‘Help from within and without!’ agreed the King. ‘It would appear we have
enemies.’
Hugh smiled sadly. Enemies! They surrounded him and they were the
King’s enemies because of him.
Never mind, the King was his very dear friend; he could not do enough for
his beloved Hugh. They were together through the days and nights and Hugh
and his father were becoming the richest men in England. It was so rewarding to have royal patronage and when that patronage grew out of a doting fondness then indeed a man was fortunate.
‘He will have gone to the Marcher country, I’ll swear,’ said Edward.
‘His home of course. That is where he will rally support.’
‘Let us plan a campaign to the Welsh coast. We’ll get him, Hugh, and this
time it will not be a dungeon in the Tower for him.’
‘He is a handsome man, that Mortimer,’ mused Hugh, ‘but I doubt he will be so handsome without his head.’
Meanwhile Mortimer, having landed safely in Normandy, was on his way to
Paris.
―――――――
By great good fortune Isabella’s involvement in the escape of Mortimer did not occur to her husband. There had been some in the Tower who had seen the meeting between the pair and the Queen’s connection with Alspaye who was
now branded a traitor as it was soon discovered that he had escaped with
Mortimer. Adam of Orlton, too, was suspected as the outside influence who had helped to make the escape possible. No doubt it seemed incredible that Isabella should have taken a hand in the affair, and it was presumed to be merely a coin-cidence that she had happened to be in the Palace of the Tower at the time.
However her attitude towards the King had changed. She made it clear that
she wanted no more intimacy with him. Not that he pressed that. It had only occurred because of the need to give the country heirs. They had stalwart