Jean Plaidy (39 page)

He was faintly disgruntled because he had not yet received the Bohun estates that Richard had promised should be his, and consequently he was ready to listen to Lady Stanley.

Moreover, he had been on very good terms with Morton, who was his so-called prisoner in his castle. The bishop was a shrewd and clever man who would know how to handle Buckingham. Morton was a Lancastrian who would be delighted to see the red rose flourishing again. Richard had completely misunderstood the characters of both Buckingham and Morton, and it had been a great mistake to put them together. They were schemers, both of them, but whereas Morton was firm in his support of the Lancastrians, Buckingham would sway this way and that according to his feelings at the moment. And at this time he was veering away from Richard; and between them, Buckingham and Morton hatched a plot.

It would be desirable, they decided, to see the Houses of York and Lancaster united. This could be done by the marriage of Henry Tudor to Elizabeth of York, King Edward's eldest daughter. Dorset would be willing to work for such an end because it would bring the Woodvilles back into prominence; and it would rid them of the man who stood in their way: Richard the Third.

They had invited Henry Tudor to come to England with what forces he could muster; and the uprising was planned for the eighteenth of October; and when Buckingham raised his standard at Brecknock, it was inevitable that Richard should get news of the intended attack.

Richard was at his best in such a situation. He quickly marshalled his forces. Luck was with him. There had been heavy rains on the Welsh borders and the Severn and the Wye were in full flood and impassable. Buckingham could not join his allies who were to arrive in a fleet provided by the Duke of Brittany.

Thankfully, the entire mission was ill-fated. A storm dispersed the fifteen ships so that Henry Tudor, with Dorset, was unable to land, and could do nothing but return to Brittany.

Buckingham's attempt to replace Richard had failed.

Richard was incensed. His own motto was
“Loyaulte me Lie”
and he had adhered to it throughout his life. There was nothing he hated more than disloyalty.

He denounced Buckingham as “the most untrue man living” and a price of one thousand pounds was put on his head, and when he fell into Richard's hands there would be no mercy. Richard would remember Hastings—another one-time friend turned traitor—and he had lost his head the very day he was denounced.

I wondered how Buckingham had felt—he, the flamboyant nobleman who regarded himself as of royal descent—a fugitive fleeing for his life.

He went northwards to Shropshire and made his way to one of his old retainers, a certain Ralph Bannister, who helped him and set him up in a hut in the woods surrounding his house at Lacon.

Poor foolish Buckingham! He learned that there were others beside himself ready to betray for the sake of gain. The reward of one thousand pounds was irresistible to Bannister; and one morning Buckingham awoke to find himself surrounded by guards.

They took him to Salisbury on a charge of treason. Buckingham was ever hopeful. He begged for an audience with the king. There was so much he could explain, he declared, if only he had the chance to do so.

Richard was adamant. Buckingham had betrayed him. There was no friendship left between them.

The penalty for treason was death and proud Buckingham who had possessed great wealth, known greater power, who had dreamed wild dreams, lost his head ignobly in the marketplace.

My thoughts during that time were mostly with Richard. I felt that I should be with my son. My son's health was somewhat improved but not sufficiently for him to undertake a long journey. I did not want him to be submitted to the rigors of court life. While he was at Middleham in the keen fresh air, living a comparatively simple life, I believed his health would improve.

Richard wrote urging me to join him.

I tried to explain to Edward. I told him that I would be back soon and if he did everything he was told and did not overtire himself, and took the nourishing food that was prepared for him, he would soon be well enough to join his father and me. In any circumstances we should see each other soon.

And so I joined Richard.

My husband was so pleased to see me that I knew I had been right to come. I guessed that the defection of Buckingham was still very much on his mind.

“There is no one I can talk to as I do to you, Anne,” he said. “I know not whom else I can trust.”

“I would not have believed this of Buckingham,” I replied.

“I should have been more watchful of him. He was never stable. Sometimes I wonder…”

I looked at him questioningly as he paused.

But he went on, “He was the one who was so insistent that I take the throne. He believed Stillington absolutely…then to turn like that! And to Henry Tudor!”

“I have heard but little of this Henry Tudor.”

“An upstart who thinks he has a claim to the throne.”

“But how could he?”

“You know these Beauforts. They are so ambitious and strong. They are a bastard branch of the family and should never have been recognized as anything else. Their forebears were born before John of Gaunt married Catherine Swynford. But because they were legitimized…well, it has given them ideas of their importance. Buckingham had these because his mother was one of them. And now Henry Tudor is another. He thinks he has a claim through Katharine, the French princess who married Henry the Fifth when he conquered so much of France.”

“He is in Brittany now?”

“Yes, sheltered and aided by Duke Francis of that place. I have my enemies, Anne.”

“And you have those who love you.”

“I have you and Edward, that is true. Anne, what of the boy?”

I said, “He is a little better.”

“And what thought he when I wanted you to be here with me?”

“He understood. I have promised him that when he grows a little stronger he shall be with us both.”

“Ah, if only that could be! The people need to see him. They like to know their future king.”

“That is for years and years ahead.”

“It is for God to decide. But the people would like to see him.”

“I fear his health would not allow him to come this time.”

“Then we must pray that it soon will be. How goes Warwick at Sheriff Hutton?”

“Well, I believe. He rides and exercises well. Learning does not come easily to him.”

“That is a pity.”

“He is a pleasant, good-natured boy. It is just that he does not think quickly and is slow at his lessons. He cannot read yet. Edward is so different.”

“Oh yes, our son lacks nothing in the head. If he could but combine the physique of young Warwick and his own learning, what a boy we should have!”

“We have the most wonderful boy in the world, and I am going to nurse him back to health. In years to come you and I are going to laugh at our fears.”

“I pray you will be proved right,” he said fervently.

I forced myself to believe it and gave my attention to Richard. I learned how deeply wounded he had been by Buckingham's disloyalty. The hurt was far greater than I had at first realized.

“Why, Anne?” he said to me on one occasion. “He has even set in motion evil rumors about me.”

“People listen to rumors but do they really believe them?”

“Rumor is pernicious,” said Richard. “People absorb the slanderous words and then in time some of them accept them as truth. Buckingham would have made me out a monster…a man of no loyalty or principles, with no right to the throne of England.”

“But it was he who pressed you to take it!”

“He could not say that I had arranged for Stillington to betray the truth, though I am sure he would have liked to.”

“He would have Stillington to contend with.”

“No doubt that was what made him refrain. But he has set about one very unpleasant rumor…a very disturbing one.”

“What is it?”

“I hardly like to mention it. He says I have caused the princes—Edward and Richard—to be murdered in the Tower.”

“Edward's sons! Your own nephews! People would never believe that.”

“There are some who will believe anything, particularly if it is evil.”

“But the princes have been seen shooting at the butts on the Tower Green…so how can they be dead? People only have to see them to know that rumor is false.”

“Yes, but I think they should not appear too much in public from now on. When a man such as Buckingham turns traitor, it sets an example for others to do the same.”

“An example! To have their heads chopped off in the nearest marketplace?”

“I mean to revolt. People always think they will succeed where others have failed. Storms could easily blow up about those boys in the present atmosphere. The last thing I wish for is more trouble on that score. There is already enough. Buckingham's insurrection has been a shock to the nation. The country needs to settle to a sense of security. Buckingham must be forgotten along with scandalous rumors. I have planned to go on a progress through the country. I want to see the people, to talk to them. You must come with me, Anne. I cannot express how much it pleases me to have you with me.”

I had to quell my anxieties regarding my son, and I gave myself up entirely to Richard's needs.

         

The winter was over and March had come. It was time for us to set out. Richard wanted to make sure of loyal support from all over the country in case, with the coming of spring, Henry Tudor should attempt another invasion.

We traveled through towns and villages and finally came to Cambridge, where we intended to stay for a few days.

Richard was very interested in the university and for some time had been bestowing grants on it, with various gifts. We were received with great warmth. Richard was happier in such an atmosphere and so was I. For those few days I found peace in the cloisters, and I enjoyed listening to the discourse between the king and the ecclesiastics.

I was really sad when we left and made our way to Nottingham.

I shall never forget Nottingham Castle. Little did I guess, as we approached it, that I should encounter such tragedy within its walls. Set in an almost perpendicular rock, it looked impregnable. I studied the intricate stone work on the north side with particular interest because it had been started by Kind Edward and finished by Richard, for Edward had died before its completion.

There were a great many ghosts in Nottingham Castle, for so many people in the past had suffered there. Edward the Second's queen had come here with her paramour Mortimer; I had heard that she slept with the keys of the locked fortress under her pillow every night so she must have been in a perpetual state of apprehension. King Henry the Second, King Richard the First…they had all been here.

It was the middle of April—a bright sunny day with a promise of spring in the air. There was no spring for us. It was the end of hope.

It was late morning when the messenger arrived from Middleham. Eagerly Richard and I received him, but when we saw his face, a terrible fear took hold of us.

I heard Richard's whisper: “It is…the Prince of Wales…”

The man did not speak for a moment; he was afraid—as all messengers are when they carry ill tidings.

“Tell me,” said Richard harshly.

Why would not the man speak? Why did he hold us in suspense? Half of me was urging him to speak, the other half begging him not to. I knew what he had to tell us before he spoke. It was what I had been dreading for months.

“The prince is dead, your Grace.”

I heard the cry of anguish that Richard could not suppress. I went to him and took his hand.

We just stood there, stunned by the news that we had feared so long.

Richard waved his hand to dismiss the messenger. He could not bear the sight of him. Later we would hear how our son had died. We did not need to know now. We could see it clearly, as though we had been present. We had feared so much…lived with the fear so long; we had waited with such great anxiety for messengers, terrified of what news they would bring. And now it had come.

Few children can have been mourned so deeply as our little son. It was more than the death of a child; it was the death of hope; it was the end of a way of life; for me it was the beginning of those fears that came to mock me in the night.

Richard and I were very close to each other during the days that followed.

His continual cry was, “Why should this happen to me? Edward had many children and what sort of life did he live? He was never faithful to his wife; he had countless mistresses; he pandered to the flesh…and yet, he left two sons and many daughters. Is this a punishment from heaven?” He turned to me in horror. “Was Stillington's story true? Am I robbed of my son because I robbed Edward's of his crown?”

I tried to comfort him. He had never done aught than what he considered to be right, I reminded him. Edward's sons were illegitimate. They had no right to the throne.

“I cannot rid myself of this fearful guilt,” said Richard. “Edward was our son. He was more than our son…he was our pledge to the people that there would be a ruler to follow me. I should have taught him wisdom, Anne. He was a good boy. He would have been a good man. He was bright. Think of young Warwick. There he is…healthy…sporting at Sheriff Hutton, while our Edward…What does it mean, Anne? You and I are cursed?”

I said, “Perhaps there will be another.”

I did not believe it. If I could not conceive when I was younger, and in a better state of health, why should I now?

The sound of his bitter laugh hurt me and the memory of it stayed with me.

No, there would be no more. The only son I had been able to give him was a puny boy who, with a struggle, had lived for eleven years.

I was no use as a king's wife. I was thirty years of age and barren…and kings needed sons.