The King's Dogge (35 page)

‘But it doesn't follow that the children are bastards. After all, what was to stop King Edward and Elizabeth Woodville marrying again immediately after Lady Eleanor died? That would have made the, as yet unborn princes, legitimate.'

‘But you still can't disprove this story about the princes' bastardry,' Richard turned to his wife.

‘Of course I can, my lord!' Anne snapped. ‘Not only can I, but so too can Lord Hastings. If there had been this ridiculous plight-trothing ceremony, do you not think that Edward's best friend and fellow lecher would have known about it? Think about it, my lord. If Hastings knew that Queen Elizabeth's children were bastards, he would have used that information against the Woodvilles when they were striving against each other after the death of King Edward.'

Anne Neville paused for a moment.

‘That said, we can deal with Hastings.'

‘But how do you know the tale to be false?' her husband persisted.

Anne shook her head irritably.

‘Eleanor Butler was my mother's niece. When my father, the Earl of Warwick, rose in rightful rebellion against King Edward in 1469, he was rebelling against the king and the Woodvilles, whom he loathed.

‘Do you not think that if he had known that King Edward's marriage was unlawful, he would not have used the information at that time?'

Ratcliffe glanced at her in desperation.

‘Is it possible that your father was too chivalrous to do so, my lady?' he asked hopefully. ‘I have heard much of his natural courtesy and sensitivity…'

‘He was in rebellion at the time!' Anne Neville replied crushingly. ‘Sweet Christ, he went on to kill two of the Woodvilles.'

She glared at Ratcliffe.

‘Cannot you understand, you imbecile, that the simple reason my father failed to use what would have been a devastating piece of information is that it never happened.'

‘But not everyone has your insight!' her husband objected. And it is possible that Eleanor Butler forgot to mention the matter to her uncle…'

‘Forgot!' Anne Neville whirled round to face Richard. Are you seriously suggesting, my lord, that even if the apparently empty-headed Lady Eleanor had not mentioned the matter, other members of her family would not have seen fit to draw the issue to my father's attention?'

Richard made no reply so I tried to rescue him.

‘My lord made an excellent point when he observed that not everyone would have your depth of knowledge on the matter.'

‘Go on, Francis.'

Anne Neville's tone was slightly less frosty now.

‘And it is unfortunate that, apparently, King Edward instructed Bishop Stillington not to discuss the subject during his lifetime.'

‘Convenient, I would have said.'

‘But the fact is he's a bishop.'

‘A man of God,' Ratcliffe eagerly broke in.

‘And has been for some time.'

‘A truly holy man,' Ratcliffe added quickly.

‘But the point is that he's prepared to swear that the story is true. Now I accept that the tale is a little weak at times, but given that it is the end result that matters and not the means which we use…'

A sudden smile from Anne Neville interrupted my narrative, so I paused for a moment.

‘Go on, Francis, you're beginning to make sense,' she encouraged me.

I drew a deep breath.

‘Well, under the circumstances, is it possible that you are being a little over-critical, my lady?'

The three of us looked at her apprehensively as she absorbed the criticism, but a moment later she smiled and raised her hands.

‘That was bravely said, Francis, and I agree with you, but if we are to push on with this ridiculous tale of yours we must hurry.'

‘Why is that?' Richard asked.

‘Because, in the circumstances, my lord, I would imagine that Bishop Stillington's recollections will probably need to be referred to the ecclesiastical courts before your own claim to the throne can be entertained – and that is an issue best avoided. Also, of course, Clarence's son probably has a better claim to the throne and we don't want people dwelling on that now, do we?'

Anne Neville turned briskly to Ratcliffe and me.

‘We'll keep your plan but we need to think of other convincing reasons why the sons of King Edward cannot rule. In fact, the more reasons we have the better. Now, Sir Richard, spare no one's feelings and slander whomever you need to, regardless of rank, family or reputation. Better still, get the rainbow-coloured Catesby working on it while you step up your rumour-mongering to denigrate the Woodvilles still further. Is that clear? Good.'

She turned to her husband.

‘Now my lord, there are other matters which require your instant attention. Might I suggest some appropriate stratagems?'

Once more, it seemed appropriate to withdraw.

With Anne Neville's arrival in London, Ratcliffe's campaign intensified. Rumours abounded about the evil-doings of the Woodvilles. It was already common knowledge by now that the queen and her family had attempted to seize the government of England. As a result, they now skulked guiltily in sanctuary. Until now though, no one had known that they had looted the treasury after King Edward's death. Nor was it fully appreciated how many of the late king's mistakes were caused by the folly of the Woodvilles and how, indeed, his brother Clarence's death could be wholly attributed to their vindictiveness. Yet still they had their supporters. Stillington's nephew was given the task of ensuring that they could neither escape from sanctuary nor be rescued. Within days, John Nesfeld had Westminster sanctuary blockaded by land and river.

With the Woodvilles effectively neutralised, Catesby was given the task of attempting to win over both Hastings and Lord Stanley to the idea that Richard should be king in place of his brother's eldest son. But even he had no success, neither Stanley nor Hastings would support Richard.

‘I believe that they would oppose our peaceful Duke of Gloucester with their lives if need be,' an indignant Catesby told me. ‘Of course they could probably muster 10,000 men if they had to. But is it not incredible that, given the danger facing England at this moment, they could both be so selfish?'

He wrung his hands in frustration.

‘I used to view my Lord Hastings as an honourable man who served his master and his country. But now, Francis, I see the truth – clearly he is a self-seeking man, concerned only with holding onto power, caring nothing for anyone except himself. Why, there is talk that he will even ally with the Woodvilles!'

He chewed his lip in worry.

‘I know my Lord Hastings; even now he'll be plotting against Gloucester and looking to strike against him. Tell him to have a care, my lord.'

I reported his concern to Richard and his wife. Richard was clearly disappointed, but Anne Neville merely shrugged.

‘Then we have no need to dissemble further,' she remarked briskly.

‘Why is that?' Richard asked.

‘Currently the Woodvilles are weakened, my lord,' Anne Neville observed quietly. ‘But it would be best to finish them off as a threat once and for all. Send Ratcliffe to the North; he should dispatch Earl Rivers and the queen's younger son, Thomas Grey. Let him also speak privately with Northumberland so that he can bring his troops south to overawe the Londoners. Now, Francis.'

‘My lady?'

‘To date all attempts to persuade Elizabeth Woodville to release King Edward's second son from sanctuary have been unsuccessful. It would appear that our flamboyant Duke of Buckingham is less persuasive than he imagines. Yet, for as long as that child remains outside our protection, he may serve as a figurehead for those who oppose my husband as England's rightful sovereign. Go and see Thomas Bourchier.'

‘The Archbishop of Canterbury?'

‘Of course, Francis. He should see Elizabeth Woodville without delay. Tell him to make the following points. Firstly, the boy is required for his brother's coronation. Secondly, King Edward's son is a child; he should not be in sanctuary since, being young, he cannot have committed a crime. As such, he can be forcibly removed from sanctuary without an offence being committed and undoubtedly he will be. Finally, tell Bourchier to offer his personal guarantees for the boy's safety.'

‘Yes, my lady.'

‘Thank you, Francis. Now with the Woodvilles finished and both young princes held safely, it will be time to deal with the final threat of Lord Hastings and his allies. It is essential that they are dealt with before they incite trouble and civil war. Indeed, as my Uncle Montague was known frequently to observe, it is far better for one man to suffer than many. So we'll strike at Hastings first, before he can land his own blow.'

I was not with the Earl of Surrey
²²
when, in friendly fashion, he called at the house of Lord Hastings that Friday to suggest that they walked to the council meeting together. But when Surrey entered the small room in the White Tower, where I was waiting with my men-at-arms, one look at his face told me that he had been successful.

‘Hastings didn't suspect a thing,' he chuckled softly. ‘It was probably unnecessary to ensure that he actually came today…'

‘Well, he has no reason to be suspicious,' I pointed out. ‘The council is only continuing the routine business they began yesterday, and Gloucester's manner has given nothing away.'

‘I suppose so.' Surrey began to arm himself. ‘So what's the plan?'

‘Gloucester's men will summon us. You make sure that Lord Stanley is secured. Pilkington here will get Bishop Morton and I'll make sure of Hastings.'

We relapsed into nervous silence, but, a short while later, I heard footsteps and glanced at Surrey.

‘Ready?'

As quietly as it is possible in half armour, we followed Richard's man along the corridor. About twenty paces from the open door, I gestured to our men to wait. Carefully I listened until I heard Richard's ringing accusation that Hastings was a traitor.

I gestured to Surrey and we rushed into the room. I snatched a blurred glimpse of a group of elderly men, some seated in frozen immobility, others rising to protest at our intrusion. Frantically, I searched out Hastings, who was to be found seated next to Stanley. There was frantic confusion as scrolls were thrown about and chairs overturned. Shouts of fear and cries of surprise filled the room, but we grabbed Hastings and bustled him from the room.

A short while later, the men-at-arms brought out a white-faced Bishop Morton and a bleeding Lord Stanley. I signalled for the guards to seal off the council, as a stern-faced Richard glanced at my captive.

‘Tower Green!' he snapped. ‘Confine the other two.'

A short while later, Catesby and I stood on the lush grass overlooking the Tower of London, while at our feet Hasting's decapitated body twitched spasmodically.

‘Such a speedy solution to our problem,' Catesby observed coolly.

Clearly the sudden demise of his former master had caused him little concern.

‘But how do we explain Hastings' death to the Londoners?' I asked him with concern. ‘He was popular among them.'

‘Fear not, Francis!' Catesby's heavily padded shoulders shook with merriment. ‘He was plotting with the Woodvilles, of course. I've already drafted out a story for the herald to tell the people. Why it's so convincing you would have thought it one of Ratcliffe's fables! And my Lords of Gloucester and Buckingham will give suitable reassurances to the leading citizens that Hastings was planning to overthrow the government.' His green eyes glittered feverishly as he looked at me. ‘There's nothing to stop us now, is there? Both the Woodvilles and Hastings are destroyed.'

I stirred uneasily. He was correct, of course; Richard could take the throne now and save England from descending into anarchy. Something didn't feel quite right though. Surely Catesby should show some remorse for the death of his former master?

Almost unbidden, an extremely nasty thought came to me; was it possible that Catesby had engineered the death of Lord Hastings to advance himself in the new regime? Certainly, by detecting Hasting's plot Catesby had made Richard's future more secure, but he had also done himself a lot of good in doing so. Come to think about it, how real had Hastings' plot actually been? I thought back. Hastings had told Catesby that he would not support Richard, but then not supporting was not exactly the same as threatening to oppose him by force. Then again, we only had Catesby's own report on the vehemence of Lord Hastings' refusal to back Gloucester. No one else had actually overheard or witnessed it. But then none of us knew Hastings as Catesby did.