The King's Dogge (41 page)

‘And what, pray, are you intending to do?'

If anything Anne Neville's tone was more scathing than earlier.

‘I'm going to stop Buckingham and his men from crossing the Severn to get into England,' I said grimly. ‘I've no idea why Buckingham has joined the revolt, but now the rebel tactics make sense.'

‘How?'

‘Before you arrived, my lady, the king and I were discussing the rebellion. To our minds, a series of localised outbreaks could have been fairly easily suppressed and, as such, the rebel strategy made no sense. But now, with a large force to serve as the nucleus of an army, their strategy is obvious. Buckingham will advance into England and move eastwards across southern England. He'll get reinforcements from the rebel mustering points and move towards London. By the time we have assembled our own men, he might have outnumbered us.'

‘But if you're wrong, you will have turned an ally into an enemy!' objected Richard. ‘You'll have stopped him coming to our aid.'

‘I'm not wrong!' I told him. ‘In fact, I know I'm right. Now if you want to suppress this revolt, the only way to do it is to stop Buckingham's force from linking up with the southern rebels. That means holding him with inferior numbers until we can bring our major force against him. We need to drive a wedge between him and the other rebels and that means stopping him at the Severn River. I'll do that while you bring the rest of the troops south. If we can stop Buckingham, the rest of the revolt will fizzle out.'

There was a silence while husband and wife looked at each other uncertainly.

‘We could travel down to Lincoln as planned,' I suggested, ‘but what we could do is to gather our own men as we go. I'll leave you there and raise my own troops. I'll collect more troops in Banbury. I strongly recommend that you ask for the Great Seal and declare the Duke of Buckingham a traitor.'

But this was to prove one campaign that I did not need to fight to help Richard. As I moved towards Gloucester, it became apparent that not only were the rains in the South-West of England excessively severe, but also they had caused substantial flooding in the region. With all the bridges across the Severn already having been destroyed, the Duke of Buckingham's army was unable to enter England. Reports began to come in from our forward scouts. They spoke of plunging morale among Buckingham's men as the combination of driving rain and floods took their toll on his army. Communications later confirmed this. Additionally it appeared that it was impossible to bring supplies to his force.

I smiled grimly when I heard the news. By now Buckingham's own spies would have reported the news of our own advance. If morale was already low in Buckingham's force, it would sink like a stone when his men realised that they would soon be fighting the whole royal army themselves. I slowed the pace of our advance and waited for the inevitable.

Two days later I heard the news that I expected. There had been wholesale desertions. Buckingham's army had imploded and was no longer an effective fighting unit.

Satisfied I turned my attention to dealing with the English rebels.

In truth, there was not much to finish. Devoid of Buckingham's army, the southern revolts fizzled out. Buckingham himself was betrayed by one of his own retainers and was executed. Henry Tudor, arriving late, sailed disconsolately back to Brittany. Richard was triumphant.

Working in comparative harmony, Catesby, Ratcliffe and I established a strategy to build on our king's success. Loyal supporters were rewarded with crown posts, as now there were more than sufficient to satisfy those who had proven loyal. Others received lands, since naturally all of Buckingham's estates fell to the king. Predictably, the king's most powerful supporters, Northumberland and Stanley, received the lion's share but Richard's followers had no cause to complain of their spoils.

With all opposition swept aside, the parliament that formed to justify Richard's title as king in the following January was merely a formality and, with his title fully authorised, Richard was wholly on the ascendant. Certainly the Woodvilles believed so; in March of that year Elizabeth led her daughters out of sanctuary and bowed to the inevitable.

Whether King Edward's widow simply despaired of Henry Tudor ever replacing Richard as king or she had just suffered sufficiently in her cramped and uncomfortable quarters in sanctuary will never be known. For whatever reason though, she reached an agreement with the king and, in return for a pension and promises of suitable marriages for her daughters, she surrendered to Richard. With that, all opposition against him ended.

Gradually, we strengthened our grip on England. The South of the country was an obvious weak area for us. Almost half the sheriffs and many of those holding crown posts had been involved in Buckingham's revolt. Consequently, they needed to be replaced; as such faithful men from the North were sent to fill those positions of authority.

How successful this proved was hard to say. Our men were not readily accepted by the local landowners. They were not from the area and did not know it as the locals did. There were no ties of friendship to integrate them into these communities. Richard had called on me to establish myself in a similar way as he wanted me to build up a power base in the Thames Valley. But I had no desire to settle there; my home was in the North and I imagined others who had come south felt the same.

But still we tried to build support for the king. The London merchants were courted – they did not love Richard as they loved King Edward, but they were to prove a useful source of revenue. Richard's own family members were used to trying to build up territorial influence. His bastard daughter's husband, Huntington, was given lands in Wales. In an effort to reduce the influence of the loyal, albeit over-powerful, Earl of Northumberland, Richard's nephew, John of Lincoln, was dispatched to head up the Council of the North, which was finally established in July.

With opposition at home crushed and Henry Tudor an impotent imposter languishing in Brittany, victory was ours.

Soon though, dark clouds gathered to cover the brilliant sun. In April, Richard's young son died unexpectedly. His death drove both parents into paroxysms of grief, exacerbated by the fact that he was an only child. There were unkind people who whispered that the boy's death was simply the vengeance of the Lord. The tragedy seemed to mark a turning point in our fortunes as, unless Anne Neville could produce another heir, Richard's dynasty was doomed.

Across the Channel too, Henry Tudor was slowly beginning to develop as a potential alternative. Further to the failure of the Buckingham revolt, a number of influential southern rebels had joined him. It had been to this crowd of supporters that Henry Tudor had promised that when he became King of England he would marry Elizabeth, the eldest daughter of the late King Edward.

Of course, we made every effort to force Brittany to surrender Henry Tudor, but neither diplomacy nor bribery worked and somehow word of our best plan leaked out and Tudor fled to France.

‘It's all turning out very badly,' I told Nan on one of my hurried visits. ‘Pressure is mounting on us as Tudor builds up quite a credible court in exile. Meanwhile, if you believe the gossip, rather a lot of people are beginning to favour the union between Tudor and King Edward's daughter.'

‘I suppose they believe that it would unite the Houses of York and Lancaster forever,' she mused aloud. ‘Then again, the murder of the poor princes has rekindled the love that people had for King Edward. All his former supporters would be keen to have his daughter as their queen, even if it meant accepting Henry Tudor as their king.'

I nodded gloomily; I was beginning to believe that many people in the South detested our regime so much that they would back anyone to force Richard from the throne. Nan saw my expression and gently stroked my hand.

‘Is my cousin Anne any better?' she asked gently. ‘I fear for her because she has not responded to either of my letters.'

‘Her illness has been troubling her…'

‘What form does it take?' Nan demanded.

‘It's reported to be wasting sickness. She tires easily; she is short of breath and has lost a great deal of weight.'

It was an understatement, but I did not want to upset Nan. The truth was that the immensely vibrant Anne Neville was slowing down. All her strength and vitality were being used to fight her illness.

‘Dr Hobbys and the other physicians swear that in time she will recover,' I added reassuringly.

We needed her well again, I thought despairingly. It was not simply that Richard needed her guidance, but for peace and security the country needed an heir to the throne. For as Ratcliffe had pointed out grimly, given the choice between Henry Tudor and a young Yorkist wife, and King Richard without an heir, most men would opt for Tudor.

‘I'm sure Anne will recover soon,' I said confidently.

But I was wrong. Gradually that indomitable will that had built Richard up in the North began to fail and the fiery spirit that had secured the crown for him started to burn less brightly.

She was rarely seen these days and devoid of her advice Richard was at a loss until, seemingly effortlessly, Ratcliffe moved in to fill the power vacuum that Anne Neville's illness had created.