White Boar and the Red Dragon, The (10 page)

The King of France encouraged Uncle Jasper’s foray into Wales, gave him ships and men and money, but it was not enough. You may wonder why Louis did this? Not out of the kindness of his heart, you may be sure, but because he was piqued that Edward had chosen to make an alliance with Burgundy instead of France! So Uncle Jasper was used as a pawn in a revenge attack, just to get back at Edward! Your Uncle Jasper is always most unfortunate in his confrontations with the Yorkists, but at least he has escaped unscathed each time—he is as slippery as an eel!

Take heart, Henry! Although this is depressing news, your uncle will soon bounce back and find another way to cause King Edward more trouble! However, there is little chance that you will see him again until King Henry VI is restored, which God grant may be soon! Jasper is nothing if not determined and always has your future interests at heart, whatever setbacks he encounters, and they have been constant! He and I both believe that the Lancastrian cause will triumph in the end over this usurper, as Henry is the true king by divine right, and so God must be on our side!

But poor King Henry continues to languish in the Tower of London where Edward keeps him prisoner, and he spends all day at his studies and devotions, for he is most pious. His mind is not what it was, and he often retreats into himself and will speak with no one. It is very sad, and Queen Margaret’s domineering nature has not helped, though he has often been glad to sit back and let her run things. She has a will of steel, and if anyone can get her husband back into power, she will! Though she’s exiled, she has even gone into battle herself to fight for the cause! He cannot fight for himself any more, even if he is freed, because of his affliction of the mind. There have just been too many troubles for him and they have affected him badly.

Edward’s sister Margaret was married in July in a very ostentatious ceremony in Burgundy to Charles the Bold. Edward no doubt wished to cement his position and avert war by getting the Duke of Burgundy as an ally against the French. He does not trust Louis—who would? He is devious and unpleasant—also obnoxious in the extreme in his personal habits, from what I hear. Much good may the alliance do Edward!

But it will not last—foreigners are not to be trusted and are often underhand in their dealings. No doubt Edward thinks he is assured of a large army from Burgundy if the need should arise, now he and the duke are brothers-in-law! But any promises are sure to be broken, so we need not worry too much about that!

Richard of Gloucester continues to go from strength to strength! He is only five years older than you, and Edward heaps even more positions and responsibilities on him! Only lately, he has commanded an army in the north to put down Lancastrian rebels there!

No doubt Lord Herbert—now Earl William Herbert—will be returning to Raglan Castle soon, full of himself and his exploits, and there will be great rejoicing and celebrations! If you are unhappy at his success—and good Uncle Jasper’s defeat—as surely you must be, you must continue to dissemble, as you have learnt how to do over the years, and say nothing of your true feelings to keep the peace, for his family have been good to you in spite of everything. Just remember, it will surely not be for much longer.

Right will triumph in the end! Hang on to that thought when you are low in spirits! And remember your great destiny—which I know in my heart will surely come to pass!

Your loving mother,

Margaret Beaufort,

Countess of Richmond

Cecily, Duchess of York,
Fotheringhay Castle, Northamptonshire, October 1468

My Dear Richard,

I am writing to congratulate you on your recent achievements in subduing the Lancastrian rebels in Northumberland! You showed great courage and ability for one so young, and in his first command!

Your dear father would have been so proud of you! You have inherited his campaigning capabilities! Edward is a brave and clever knight too, but he is ten years older than you! You show great promise. One day, I feel sure that you will succeed in the greatest command of all!

And I am determined that your ability will be recognised by everyone. I dare to prophesy that in the not-so-distant future, you may be king of this great country! You certainly deserve to be, and I will do all in my power to help you achieve this. I do not know yet just how it will come to pass. I’m just certain that it will! You may call it a mother’s intuition! When I think how I used to despair of you physically as a small boy, especially after your bout of infantile paralysis! But you worked even harder at your training then and left the other boys at Middleham far behind, not only in the knightly arts, but in your studies!

My son, I feel nothing but regret that I did not recognise your true worth when you were very young and judged you but outwardly. How wrong I was!

The fortunes of the house of York have turned again for the best, with the recapture of Harlech Castle this summer and the defeat of Jasper Earl of Pembroke there—now earl no more, as Edward has seen fit to give the earldom to Lord William Herbert, who led the attack on Harlech. Jasper somehow escaped again, as he always does—into his impenetrable mountains! Of course, Lord Herbert is the guardian of the last possible Lancastrian claimant to the throne when King Henry dies—and he is not in the best of health—after the Prince of Wales, that is. Henry Tudor is his name, some five years younger than you, and the only child of Margaret Beaufort.

He was left in the care of his uncle, Jasper, at Pembroke Castle from the age of four, when his mother married the Earl of Stafford. He has seen her only once since then, I believe, when she visited Raglan Castle, the Herbert family seat in Gwent. This was after they moved back there from Pembroke Castle, which Lord William had taken over when Jasper fled in 1461. One has to be sorry for the boy. He lost his father in battle, as you did, then his mother deserted him, and his Uncle Jasper had to flee, leaving him in the care of strangers. At least you have brothers and sisters—and myself, of course. He has no one. But he is a royal prince and could be a rival of yours, if you ever do make a move to take the throne!

Well, Richard, I continue to be very quiet here at Fotheringhay and do not envy you having to put up with the intrigues of the court! It is not for me any more, since Edward’s unwise marriage, though I did relent a little and agreed to be the baby Elizabeth’s godmother—I have no quarrel with an innocent babe!

I was so sorry I could not make the long journey from here to Burgundy in July for the marriage of your sister Margaret to the duke. I hear it was a very grand affair indeed, and the cost must have been enormous! I wonder whether Edward had to pay for any of it, or Burgundy emptied its coffers instead?

Edward is very generous, but I don’t think he realises that he actually does not have the money for all his extravagances! The queen has probably had nearly all Edward’s gold by now—she and that mother of hers, Jacquetta, are both very fond of French fripperies!

It is time now for my evening prayers, so I must put down my pen and say goodnight to you. I will remember you in them as always. I pray every day that your chance will come to avenge your father and brother—and in what better capacity could you do that than as king? Then you could grind the Lancastrians under your heels!

Your loving mother,

Cecily, Duchess of York

Westminster Palace

10 June 1469

London

My Dear Richard,

When you receive this note, I hope that you will join your brother George and I at my London residence tomorrow in the morning.

I wish to discuss something very important with you both, which it is better we do face to face than by letter.

We will be here at ten of the clock. Please inform my man yea or nay—he knows to come straight back to me with your answer.

Richard Neville

The messenger who had arrived with it a short time before hastily withdrew, as Richard looked up from the note at him and inclined his head briefly.

Within a few moments, the man had run down to the palace yard and was galloping away.

‘Whatever it is, it must be urgent!’ Richard thought, a little puzzled. He wondered what all the haste and secrecy was about? Warwick often wrote to him since his rather premature departure from Middleham.

Often, he would enclose a letter from Anne, but there was nothing from her today, as she was still in Yorkshire.

How he missed her—and the quiet of Middleham, surrounded by the rolling hills of Wensleydale. He sighed, then sniffed, trying to smell the good clean air of Yorkshire, if only in his imagination—but the smells of London, filtering in through the open window, defeated him. It was very near the River Thames here, and its particularly rancid smells drifted up to him—which seemed to consist of a mixture of stagnant water, urine, and dead cats, especially as the tide was out and the stinking mud flats exposed all kinds of unspeakable flotsam and jetsam.

The next morning, he presented himself promptly at 10 a.m. at the imposing Neville townhouse called the Herber to be admitted by Warwick himself—there was no sign of any servants.

‘‘Tis best we speak privily. I have sent the servants to the fair on Bankside. I only keep a skeleton staff anyway, as I am more in Warwick or Middleham than here. They were pleased to be free for the day. I expect they think I’m entertaining a lady! If only it were so—but far more weighty matters occupy my mind. Ah, here is George!’

He had ushered Richard into the library, an imposing room full of priceless manuscripts and books—none of which Warwick ever touched, as he was a man of action and had no time for reading or studying.

George was waiting by the window, idly playing with some pocket dice, but he turned as they entered and put them away.

‘Good day, my lord! And brother mine. Has Warwick told you of our business?’

‘Not yet, but all the haste and secrecy has me intrigued!’

‘And well you may be, young man. If one word of what we are about to discuss gets to the wrong ears—and thence to the king—we could all find ourselves accused of treason!’ Warwick stated.

‘Treason? I do not like what you say, my lord! No thoughts of treason have ever entered my head, nor will they in any circumstances, so I have no wish to stay! What I do not hear I know not of.’

‘Let his lordship speak, Dickon! Do him that courtesy, even if you don’t like what you hear. You don’t have to agree with his plans.’

‘Plans? What plans are these?’ Richard ventured cautiously.

‘To be blunt, Richard, Edward has driven me first to anger, then to despair, and now to resolve—to put another in his place! He has proved, by his many unwise actions, that he is not fit for kingship!’

‘In whose opinion?’

‘In my opinion and in that of many others who were his loyal supporters before his marriage, Richard. I put him where he is, and I can depose him!’

‘What has he done that you should even think of such a thing—let alone plan to do it?’

‘Ponder, Richard. First, that unwise and hasty marriage, saddling us not only with his unfit queen, but all her ambitious, grasping Woodville relatives as well—the court is crawling with them. Wherever you turn, you stumble over one, usually begging some new favour or other from Edward—and they don’t ask small favours! Between them, they have acquired by marriage nearly all the greatest estates in England—except mine of course—not to say all the great heirs and heiresses—whose estates will come into their possession in the future!

Then there is a King of France mortally offended that Edward rejected the French princess in favour of a commoner—as I knew he would be! That was very poor statesmanship on Edward’s part. We need to keep in with France—but Edward does not seem to care less! Perhaps he doesn’t understand what poor judgement he showed? If Elizabeth Woodville were a pleasant person, it might perhaps be bearable, from a personal point of view, but she is vicious, unbelievably haughty, and vindictive in the extreme! Look how she finds ways to pay back people who even slightly or unwittingly offend her? And she has Edward just where she wants him! He is so besotted he can see no wrong in her. He is like a big boy playing at king under her influence! The people hate her and all her relatives—especially that father of hers, the acquisitive Lord Rivers and her mother Jacquetta, they call the witch! It is bad for England, all of it, and must somehow be stopped!’

‘And you propose to stop it?’ asked Richard quietly. ‘I have no love for the queen either. I knew what she was the moment she showed her face at court. But if we hurt her, we hurt Edward! I have vowed to be loyal to him always, and I will not break that vow for anyone, or anything, or for any reason! Now, I think I had better go. I will forget this conversation—it will be as if I never heard your words, Lord Warwick.’ Richard turned on his heel to go, sickened by Warwick’s proposed betrayal.

‘Loyalty binds me, eh, Richard?’ sneered George. ‘You always did put ideals and principles before common sense! Well, I’ve agreed to go along with Richard here! Our Edward has grown too big for his boots, and I’ll be glad to see him deposed!’

‘And I suppose you think you’re going to step into his boots, George? Is that what you have been promised for offering your support then?’

‘First, Lord Warwick is going to arrange for Isabel and I to marry. We’ve waited Edward’s pleasure long enough! We are already secretly betrothed and will be married in Calais shortly. As it is out of Edward’s domain, there is no way he can stop it, even if he finds out beforehand. So, if your good conscience and loyalty compel you to tell him, it won’t make any difference!’

‘What about the dispensation from the Pope? That could take months—you are first cousins!’

‘And for that reason, we are not bothering to wait for it. We are just going ahead! Why should Edward or the Pope have yea and nay on our personal happiness? They do on everything else! And Edward took his happiness without telling anyone, anyone at all!’

‘But he is the king!’

‘And the king can do no wrong! Or if he does, he can get away with it! Oh, grow up, Dickon! It is an accident of birth, merely, that he has ascendancy over us! And then there was that business when Mother swore he was a bastard anyway! Who knows? Well, I’ve had enough! And if Warwick here decides to try and put me in his place—I am next in line to the throne—I shall not be averse!’