Thwarted Queen Part 40

I do not know what happened to darling George. He died in mysterious circ.u.mstances in the Tower on the night of February 18, 1478. Some say he drowned in a barrel of Malmsey wine. But I preferred to think that he died the more dignified death of beheading by an expert swordsman.

Poor George was buried in Tewkesbury Abbey, next to his wife Bella.

Five years pa.s.sed. The country seemed to be at peace.

Until one day, in early April 1483.

Chapter 62.

March to April 1483 I knew nothing of these events until much later, for the Serpent neglected to tell me.

Edward loved fis.h.i.+ng and had insisted on going out on a boat in the cold, bl.u.s.tery, wet weather of March 1483. It was not surprising that he caught a chill and had to take to his bed. But everyone expected him to recover, for he was only forty years old.

However, Edward was as intemperate in his eating habits as he was with his mistresses. Gone was the lean, muscular, and handsome youth crowned king at the age of eighteen. In his place was a man with an enormous stomach, who frequently purged himself for the pleasure of gorging on food and drink.

The Serpent summoned a horde of doctors, to no avail. Edward died on the ninth day of April.

If she did not act quickly, the Serpent's hold on power would disappear. Her first aim was to get her eldest son, twelve-year-old Edward, Prince of Wales, to London, where he would be under her care. For when his father died, the prince was some two hundred miles away at Ludlow. Fortunately, she'd used her charms to convince Edward to give the guardians.h.i.+p of his heir to her brother, Anthony Woodville, Earl Rivers, whose loyalty to her was unquestioned.

Her second aim was to deal with the king's younger brother, Richard of Gloucester, immensely powerful in the north of England partly because he owned an enormous amount of land and partly because he had the power to dispense the king's justice. It was imperative to keep the king's condition secret from Gloucester, because Edward had named him Protector of the Realm until Prince Edward reached his majority.

But if Prince Edward were brought to his mother in London, he could be crowned immediately, and there would be no need for Gloucester to act as Protector.

The Serpent loathed and feared Gloucester, for he was close to me and, like me, had disapproved of Edward's marriage. Unlike George, Richard was crafty enough to keep his feelings to himself. But he'd made his displeasure with the Woodvilles plain by rarely coming to court.

The Serpent lost no time, apprising Rivers of Edward's death and urging him to bring the young prince to London.

To the late king's mother and younger brother, she wrote not a word, hoping we would not learn of Edward's death until it was too late.

Chapter 63.

April 11 to 17, 1483 To Cecylee, d.u.c.h.ess of York, Greetings.

Madam, It has come to my attention that you may not have been apprised of the sad news of the late king's pa.s.sing, here in London, on the ninth day of April. You should also know it was the late king's wish that his brother, Richard, Duke of Gloucester, be Protector of the Realm until such time as Prince Edward reaches his majority.

Written this eleventh day of April, in the year 1483, Thomas Bourchier, Archbishop of Canterbury.

I sagged and dropped the letter. Edward dead? How could that be? He was only forty years old, and he was a vital, larger-than-life person whose ringing laugh made even the sourest person merry. Whatever had happened?

I sat in my chair for many moments, hearing the vast silence of his absence. I no longer went to court and had not seen him in years. My sons and daughters communicated with letters and visits. All except Edward, who never visited, and rarely wrote. Over the years, I'd only been able to glean news of him from others.

But he was my son, and had been a daily presence in my thoughts for the past forty years. Despite his irresponsibility and lack of taste, he'd been a strong king. He held everything together, keeping the factions of his government at bay by giving Richard power in the north while the Serpent's family had their power base in the south.

Now what would happen?

The Serpent was well placed to seize power, for she was in London, and her relatives had been rewarded with positions in Edward's government. I gripped the arms of my chair.

What was going to become of Richard?

If the Serpent prevailed, she would strip him of his offices. She would take away his land and his home. She would leave him with nothing.

But she would not end there. No. She would find some way to incarcerate him in the Tower.

I picked up the Archbishop's letter. It was written two days after Edward's death. Had anyone told my remaining son? It reminded me of the time when Henry of Lancaster had gone mad, and the b.i.t.c.h of Anjou had kept the news from Richard of York.

I sat up suddenly, berating myself for the sluggishness of my mind. Of course the Serpent would not want Richard of Gloucester to know about his brother's death! I must write to him at once!

To Richard, Duke of Gloucester, Greetings.

Dearest Richard, I write in haste to tell you that Edward the King pa.s.sed away suddenly this ninth day of April. I have a subtle suspicion that the Serpent may not have apprised you of this news, and so I urge you to move swiftly to protect your interests. Perhaps you should have Prince Edward transferred to your care.

Written this thirteenth day of April 1483, Your loving mother, Cecylee, d.u.c.h.ess of York.

While I anxiously waited for a reply from Richard, the Serpent held her first council meeting. First, she asked for a new bidding prayer to be said in the churches. This was customary on the death of a sovereign, but the Serpent had purposely worded it so that the name of Richard of Gloucester was left out.

The king's council should have voted this down, but it was packed with her friends and relations. There was the Archbishop of York and the Bishop of Ely, who had been friends of the king and queen. There was her eldest son, Thomas Grey, first Marquess of Dorset, who had control of the king's treasure and the royal ordinance. And then there were the aristocrats her sisters had married.

They agreed with the Serpent.

They agreed too when the Serpent requested they proclaim Edward Prince of Wales, King of England.

But when the Serpent requested that the coronation take place as soon as possible, William Hastings, the Lord Chamberlain and Edward's closest friend, objected.

"Why so hasty?" he demanded. "King Edward has a protector-designate."

It turned out that Edward had altered his will at the last minute to say that his brother of Gloucester should be protector-designate until Prince Edward reached his majority. The Serpent was not happy.

She turned to the Archbishop of Canterbury, because he would officiate at the coronation. "What say you, my lord?"

Thomas Bourchier smiled slightly. "Perhaps it would be more prudent to wait."

"We've just declared war on France," remarked Dorset. "I think it would be wise to have a smooth transition. Crowning Prince Edward now would show the French that matters have not changed."

Smiling, the Serpent consulted her scroll. "What say you, my lords, to Sunday, the fourth day of May?"

They agreed.

The Serpent then requested that twelve-year-old Edward be escorted the hundred miles from Ludlow to London by an army of soldiers.

"An army!" exclaimed Hastings. "Whom in this realm do you fear so much?"

"The king should have a suitable escort," remarked Dorset, allowing the Serpent to evade the question.

"But not an army!" shouted Hastings. "It will only sow trouble and bloodshed."

"I want no harm to befall my son," replied the Serpent.

"If you insist on this foolhardy whim, madam," replied Hastings, "then I'll retire to Calais."

This was no empty threat, for Hastings was the Governor of Calais, and it was from Calais that Warwick had plotted his coup against Edward.

"I suggest, madam," continued Hastings, "that you limit the prince's escort to two thousand men."

The Serpent looked around the table, but the king's councilors would not meet her gaze. She was forced to abandon her plan.

She summoned her scribe and wrote to her brother Rivers for a second time, urging him to bring the prince quickly to London.

A few days pa.s.sed, then I received Richard's reply: Dearest Mother, I thank you most heartily for your message. Indeed, no one had thought to apprise me of this situation, saving yourself and Hastings. I agree with your suggestion concerning Prince Edward's person. If we do not win, we will be in grave jeopardy for the reasons that you well know.

Written this seventeenth day of April 1483 Your loving son, R. Gloucester I smiled; Richard's plans were already well in hand. I fingered my rosary beads. The next few days would determine who would win, and it would be hard to wait. I rang my bell. I would summon my women and design a new altar cloth, which we would sew. And I would ask Master Gerard to ensure that we had a goodly supply of wine, for I found it most comforting in the evenings when the shadows drew in.

I was going to need all the comfort I could find.

Chapter 64.

April 20th to May 7th 1483 By the greatest good fortune, the Serpent's brother Rivers planned to celebrate Saint George's Day in Ludlow and saw no reason to alter his plans. He ignored his sister's urgent pleas and did not leave Ludlow until the morning of April 24. This gave Richard a week to muster his forces before marching south.

Richard arrived in York on April 20 and sent out messengers to ascertain where the young king was. His plan was to intercept Rivers before he arrived in London. Fortunately, Rivers took his time. He did not arrive in Northampton with his charge until April 29.

I had a prior undertaking to meet with Rivers in Northampton, wrote Richard to me, but he tried to slip through my fingers. Instead of staying there, he rode on another fourteen miles to Stony Stratford and found lodgings for the prince there. He then rode back to meet Buckingham and myself.

I put the letter down and frowned. Henry Stafford, second Duke of Buckingham? What was Richard doing with him?

Buckingham was my great-nephew but had not been popular at Edward's court, being jealous, proud, and ruthlessly ambitious. He'd never bothered to conceal his hatred of the queen, who had forced him to marry one of her sisters. He harbored a grudge against the King because of a dispute over some estates. He was, I realized with dismay, not unlike George. If Buckingham had now switched his allegiance to Richard's cause, it could only be because he hoped that Richard would reward him for his loyalty by returning the disputed Bohun estates. Did Richard know this?

I picked up Richard's letter: When Rivers arrived in Northampton with the queen dowager's second son, Sir Richard Grey, I received them graciously, and asked them to sup with me. I considered it wise not to betray my anger at River's gross presumption at lodging the king so far away without consulting me first. Over dinner, I gently pumped Rivers for information, and he acquainted me with the dealings of the council in London. Suffice it to say, there appeared to be no place for me in the new king's government.

You may realize, dear Mother, how alarmed I was. But I concealed my feelings behind smiles and gestures of goodwill. That night, Rivers and Grey slept in the accommodation I had arranged for them in Northampton, while Buckingham and I posted guards around that inn and along the road leading to Stony Stratford.

The next day, at dawn, Buckingham and I rode to Stony Stratford at full speed with Sir Richard Grey. The king was full pleased to see us, so we dismissed his escort and his attendants and set off for Northampton.

"Madam."

I looked up as my steward bowed.

"A messenger has arrived from London."

I put Richard's letter down. "What is the news?"

"The queen dowager has taken sanctuary in Westminster Abbey with her five daughters, two of her four sons, and her brother, the Bishop of Salisbury," replied the messenger, kneeling before me.

Had Richard already succeeded in crus.h.i.+ng the Woodvilles? But he was not yet in London. Or was this a clever ruse by the Serpent to make her look powerless and thus to gain sympathy? For she was not powerless at all. She was like a spider spinning a web.

I motioned for the messenger to continue.

"Your son, Richard, Duke of Gloucester, has imprisoned Rivers in Sheriff Hutton, Sir Richard Grey in Middleham, and others of their affinity in Pontefract."

By Our Lady, Richard had moved with lightning speed.

"When my lord duke was informed that the Archbishop of York had given the Great Seal of England to the queen, he removed him from office."

I smiled grimly and let out a breath. Archbishop Thomas Rotherham was known to be a staunch friend of the queen. Richard had performed magnificently. I picked up his letter again.

"What do the people say?"

The messenger coughed and looked at the ground. "Unfortunately, madam, they murmur that these actions are those of a tyrant."

I stared at him. Motioning for the messenger to leave, I ignored the p.r.i.c.kle of unease that crept up my spine and the painful memories of my lord Richard's bid for power.

I am proceeding onto London with my nephew. And, madam, I beseech you to throw off your present cares and go to Baynard's Castle, your residence in London, so that I may take counsel with you to my comfort.

Written at Northampton, the second day of May, with the hand of your most humble son, R. Gloucester On the third of May, Richard of Gloucester set off for London in the company of his cousin Henry of Buckingham and the young King Edward V.

On the fourth of May, they entered London, and Gloucester lodged the prince in the palace of the bishops of London.

On the seventh of May, the Archbishop of Canterbury, on Gloucester's orders, recovered the Great Seal of England from the queen dowager.

Chapter 65.

Baynard's Castle, London May 7, 1483 What would happen to Richard when King Edward V gained his majority? My grandson already had twelve years. We didn't have long to act, for a precedent had been set by Henry of Lancaster, who'd declared his majority at sixteen.

If we did nothing, Edward would reward his numerous Woodville relatives once he came of age.

Thus, it was imperative we invalidated the will of the late king immediately. And so I summoned my dear friend Thomas Bourchier, Archbishop of Canterbury, to a private meeting at Baynard's Castle.