White Boar and the Red Dragon, The (53 page)

‘True, but I was so furiously angry and disgusted with him. I wanted nothing more to do with him, ever. I just wanted him wiped off the face of the earth at that moment!’

‘One you knew of—the Lady Margaret Beaufort. Why did you let her off so lightly? Surely she should have been severely punished, even beheaded for her part in it? Especially as she is the mother of Henry Tudor! She is known to have insatiable ambitions on his behalf, always has had. Do you think merely being put under house arrest by Stanley will have stopped her plotting? All you did was put her in her husband’s custody in a castle up north. I am sure she has gone on actively communicating with her son Tudor, in spite of your orders to her husband Stanley. Knowing him, I expect he turns a blind eye to such a strong-willed woman. He is said to have a soft spot for her, though she repudiates him as a true husband. And he must be away from her a lot. I am sure she would take every opportunity then to disobey his instructions and yours!’

‘I have never believed in the beheading of women. And I must trust Stanley to keep her in order. I cannot do it myself. He is a strong man. Most men can control their wives!’

‘Not this wife! And what if a woman’s crime be treason, as hers surely is? Mayhap you should consider it—if it is proved she has gone on helping Tudor and conniving with his supporters?’

‘Never! Some other way will have to be found to punish her. But not the block!’

‘You are too kind, Richard. Women can be every bit as clever and devious when it comes to protecting their own and working for their advancement—completely ruthless too. I believe she is such a one!’

‘You are probably right, Francis. I will have Stanley questioned closely. If anything is proved against her and his supervision of her shown to have been lax, I will have them both incarcerated—but after the battle. I need him on my side now, remember—as one of my chief councillors. He is in the Privy Council for God’s sake! And he will lead a goodly number of soldiers into battle on my side. I cannot do without his help!’

‘Oh, Richard, I dare to say that with the best will and the best intentions in the world, you have made some dire mistakes!’

‘And I would agree with you, my friend! It is easy enough in hindsight to perceive where one went wrong—the hard part is knowing what to do to put things right!’

Henry Tudor, The Welsh Borders, Near Shrewsbury,
Shropshire, 11 August 1485

My Dear Mother,

You will no doubt have heard already that we landed at last on 7 August in Pembrokeshire, at Dale, near Milford Haven. I was so overcome with emotion to be back in my beloved homeland after all these years that I went down on my knees and kissed the ground—to all my companions’ amazement, I am sure! I implored the favour of heaven by saying the psalm: ‘Judica me Deus, et discerne causum meam…’ Then, making the sign of the cross, I prayed fervently to God to aid my just cause in the coming fray! The next day, we marched ten miles to Haverfordwest. There, we received some very good news from Pembroke. A delegation was there—the mayor and several of his aldermen—to promise that the town would serve my Uncle Jasper Tudor, and therefore me. He is its natural lord, after all.

I was eagerly on the look-out then for the host of Rhys ap Thomas, the greatest landowner of the area, who had sent oaths that he would support us as soon as we arrived. It was a terrible blow—and not a good omen—to be told that he had decided to uphold Richard’s cause after all with his considerable force. We had counted on him. It had not occurred to me that that he would renege on his promise, and I did not understand why he had deserted us.

Later, we found ourselves a short distance from Cardigan, when my scouts reported that Rhys was just a few miles ahead of us to the north. I humbled my pride and decided to petition him to change his mind and join us. I promised him that he would be given the Lieutenantship of all Wales for life, if he would reconsider. It was not pleasant to have to offer bribes, especially at this early stage, to one whose loyalty had been counted on as a fellow countryman. But I need him. I await his answer in trepidation. I wonder what King Richard offered him to secure his loyalty? Perhaps he just needs time to think about his options? I hope he decides in our favour. It is crucial.

It made me very uneasy too, as we marched along, to realise that we were not being constantly joined by Welshmen eager to fight against Richard. I had believed that this would happen also because of the old hatred of the Welsh for the English, going right back to Llewelyn Fawr’s time. One would had thought them eager to take any opportunity to cause trouble for their ancient enemy, but not so, it seems. A steady trickle have joined us, but not the eager hosts I was expecting.

It seems I have assumed too much about the reactions of my countrymen to my bid for the throne! The people of Wales have not swarmed to my banner, as I had hoped and expected!

We march proudly under the Red Dragon Banner of Cadwallader! If anything is guaranteed to inspire men to join us, surely the sight of that ancient symbol of the desire for freedom will do it! And I am the great Cadwallader’s heir. Surely that stirs something nationalistic in Welshmen’s hearts? I can only pray that it does!

Good news has come in, as I write this! Having reached the outskirts of Shrewsbury, on the borders of England this evening, after a most arduous trek across the mountains, a messenger has just arrived from Rhys ap Thomas—he has thought better of his earlier decision and will be joining us soon after all! I wonder whether it was the large bribe I offered him which suddenly seemed more important than his fear of Richard and whether his estates would be attainted if I lost the battle?

I have also sent messages to all who have pledged me their support and hope they will join us soon, as we march towards London. I have been advised most strongly not to make for London directly, but to aim at meeting Richard at a more northerly point. I will see how things go. Maybe I will change my mind later about our direction, depending on where I hear Richard is. Hopefully, we can take him by surprise—he may not even know we have landed yet! I believe he is at Nottingham Castle, waiting for news.

One of my most hoped-for supporters, is, of course, your husband, my uncle by marriage—Sir Thomas Stanley. I pray his brother William will also be on our side. Both can amass huge forces at very short notice! I have written urgently to Sir Thomas, as I need to know as soon as possible whether we can count on his support!

It is all very stressful, not knowing whom I can really count on! I need all my battle commanders, as I have had no practical experience of fighting. I am utterly dependent on their superior knowledge and feel very vulnerable at the moment, wondering if they will be there for me at the crucial time—I am sure you can understand that!

Thank God, my most experienced commander, the Earl of Oxford, Lord de Vere, is utterly loyal! He is already attainted for his part in Buckingham’s rebellion, so regards Richard as a bitter enemy! And, of course, my dear, battle-scarred and trusty Uncle Jasper Tudor is with me always. He has been my mainstay since early childhood!

Now I must sleep. I must restore my energies, which are badly needed, for tomorrow, we enter England! I pray that Lord Stanley and I will meet very soon and that he will confirm his support! Do what you can, Mother—if you have any influence at all with him—plead my cause most forcefully!

Your loving and apprehensive son,

Henry Tudor

Richard, Beskwood Hunting Lodge,
Near Nottingham, 16 August 1485

‘My lord, there is news at last! Henry Tudor, whom, as you know, landed near Milford Haven in Pembrokeshire on Sunday, 7 August, has been marching with his host ever since and has now reached Lichfield completely unopposed, it seems. They were on the direct route to Nottingham at first, but your scouts have reported he suddenly changed his mind and started marching south-east instead!’

‘Strange, but thank God there will be action soon! This endless waiting and not knowing which route he would approach us by has been most wearing. But it is very worrying that he has met no opposition along the way. That does not bode well! Now I will see who will obey my call to arms at once and who else will find excuses to prevaricate!’

‘What mean you, Sire? Do you not expect all your supporters to come immediately and march to your chosen rallying point?’

‘I truly do not know with some, Francis. They are unknown quantities, especially the Stanleys. I can only hope they see sense and do what they pledged to do when the time came! I have already instructed the Earl of Northumberland, Lord Percy; the Duke of Norfolk and his son, the Earl of Surrey, and faithful Brackenbury to make for Leicester, with their considerable forces—whither we go now, in the hopes that they will have reached there already. You, of course, were the first to arrive, my friend. I am glad that you are with me at this crucial planning stage. I have tried to get my mind off the situation, until I could do something about it, by indulging in a little hunting—it is better than sitting in that wretched, miserable castle at Nottingham completely inactive!’

‘I know you hate the place, Richard, ever since—’

‘Yes, ever since poor Anne and I received the terrible news there of little Edward’s death at Middleham. From that time, I have called it my Castle of Care! And it was that which precipitated her own illness and death, I am sure—she was so felled by grief she could never recover. Nottingham is an ill-omened place for me.’

‘You did not summon Sir William Stanley, why?’

‘Because I assumed he would march with the men of North Wales to intercept the invader, which does not seem to have happened, from the news of his easy entry into England! I know that Thomas Stanley is untrustworthy and wayward—it seems his brother is in the same mould. On 11 August, I ordered Thomas Stanley to come immediately with his forces to Nottingham, but is there any sign of him yet? Of course not! He sent a message by a fast scurrier yesterday that he is desperately ill with the sweating sickness which abounds at present and that he cannot come. I do not believe it—it is just an excuse not to obey!’

‘It is only five days, my lord, since you sent your orders out. Give him time. He may have been on the northernmost parts of his vast territory when the call to muster came. And if he is indeed as sick as he insists—this illness can kill, Sire! He must needs to rest in his bed until it passes—then, I am sure he will join you.’

‘I try to have faith, but his behaviour in the past has made me cynical of his actions.’

‘It is not surprising, I suppose. But you do have his son, Lord Strange, in custody in Nottingham Castle, as a hostage for his father’s good intentions. Surely Thomas would not deliberately disobey you and risk his firstborn son’s very life? Especially as I believe Strange attempted to escape yesterday and is now in closer custody than ever in a deep dungeon?’

‘Who knows what he will do? He is a law unto himself, like that awful wife of his, Margaret Beaufort. She will no doubt be rejoicing right now that her precious son has got so far into England unopposed, in such a short time! Perhaps she has persuaded Thomas to go over to the rebels? I would not be surprised at anything either of them did! He may have even urged his son to escape. The lad revealed, when questioned, that his Uncle William had definitely gone over to Henry but insisted that his father was trustworthy. He even begged to be allowed to write a message to his father. I gave him paper and ink—it could not do much harm for him to write, but whether it will do much good remains to be seen. He wrote of his terrible danger and implored his father to come in at once to me with all his forces. We await the answer. I must now send orders to the sheriffs of the realm that Sir William Stanley is to be found and arrested as quickly as may be. If he has definitely defected, then you may count on it that Thomas has too! I definitely smell treason, my friend!

All I need now is for Percy of Northumberland to change sides. Defection is infectious!’

‘Let us pray not, Sire. Any news of the Duke of Norfolk, John Howard?’

‘No, not yet. But I know he will obey me to the letter. He will have been urging his men-at-arms and yeomen archers from all parts of Essex, Norfolk, and Suffolk to get to Leicester as quickly as may be. I would trust him with my life! And his son is of the same loyal stock. I need not worry over either of them! But I know that there are many whom I hoped would come—but cannot actually order to come—who will not.’

‘Who do you mean, Richard?’

‘Well, a great many men—lords, gentry, or commoners—are utterly weary to their souls of the constant alarms, marches, and battles of the past years. They just want to stay at home with their families and, administer their estates, farm their lands, work at their crafts, and earn their living quietly. They have had enough and do not want to know about war any more. It is not that they long for my overthrow—they just do not wish to join in any more fighting. Who can blame them? I feel the same—if the truth be known. But I have no choice but to fight! One such whom I know will just ignore my call is the Duke of Suffolk. And his son, John of Lincoln, is my designated heir to the throne! He has never responded to any call to arms over the years, even for Edward, after 1471! I know Edward was sad that he did not join him at the Battle of Barnet. He is a man who prefers to stay quietly at home, enjoying his estates. I do not suppose he has any burning desire for an unknown exile to be king. He just does not care who is in power so long as he is left alone. This is typical of the mood of many whom I cannot constrain, I am sure!’

‘It is a sad sign of the times, Sire, that people are so bone weary of war they will not help their anointed king!’

‘It does not matter. I have realised that I have gone out of my way to win the people’s hearts, by bestowing justice, which, unfortunately, has alienated powerful interests. I have tried to show my goodwill with many gifts; I have forgiven rebels and been kind to their wives and have tried to help commoners where I could. None of it seems to stand me in good stead now in the hour of my need to muster a strong army! I am fighting indifference, Francis! Half the country no longer cares about loyalty, which has been my own guiding star throughout life, until I broke my own loyalty to Edward’s son. That was my undoing! I am only reaping what I have sown. I know it! None of my goodwill seems to matter to a people sickened by war and betrayal. And they see me as the master betrayer, whose hands are stained with the blood of the innocent! Why should they fight for me?’