White Boar and the Red Dragon, The (45 page)

So far in the Progress, we have been welcomed in every town and city we have visited. We have stayed a day or so in each one, starting with Reading, then Oxford, where Richard enjoyed some lectures and some earnest theological discussions, which would have bored me rigid, but Richard is very religious and reads deeply on theological matters.

Then we arrived at Gloucester. Tomorrow, we will set out for Tewkesbury, travelling along the side of the Severn River. There, I know Richard plans to pray quietly at the tomb of his brother George, which is behind the high altar of Tewkesbury Abbey. He still feels George’s death deeply. He loved him and cannot help himself. I do not think he ever forgave King Edward for having George put to death, whatever the provocation.

After Tewkesbury, we will go to Worcester and then spend a week or so in Warwick, where Richard tells me the queen will go first to Warwick Castle, the place of her birth, after visiting Middleham to see her son. Then they travel on together. The people wish to see their new queen too, though I hardly think her delicate health will stand up to the constant travelling very well.

Then, I am hazy as to our route, but I think it includes Coventry, Leicester, and Nottingham, where we will stay, of course, at the great castle on the hill overlooking the town. He will meet up with his son, so he tells me, at Pontefract, about the third week in August, before the royal family’s triumphal entrance into York! I know a great welcome has been planned for Richard there.

At every place we have visited, great gifts of money have been presented to Richard, but he has always refused them. He tells the people that he would rather have their love and loyalty than their money. I think this has made a big impression!

At Nottingham, Richard has summoned in advance seventy knights and gentlemen of the north to meet him, and he will read out the powerful speech again that he made in London after his accession, in which he promises to administer true justice and to rule fairly. That made a strong impact in London, and he hopes it will in Nottingham too. And he means what he says. I know Richard so well, and all his life he has felt the need for justice to be equal for all, rich or poor. Now he has the chance to carry out his wishes, which I know he will, to the best of his ability!

York will be the highlight of this great Progress. The travelling is very tiring, but it will all be worth it!

I heard that the Mayor of York and four of his chief aldermen, on hearing of Richard’s coronation on 6 July, rode to Middleham about 10 July to pay homage to the little Edward, who will be invested as Prince of Wales in their city soon after the king arrives. They presented the boy with many gifts, including demain bread—the very best—a barrel of red and a barrel of white wine, six cygnets, six herons, and twenty-four rabbits! I wonder about the birds and the rabbits. Is he expected to eat them or, more likely, to let them loose on the estate so that they may grow and breed? The latter, I expect. Soon, Middleham will be overrun with rabbits!

The York worthies are busy planning a triumphal reception too, we have been informed, for when Richard, Anne, and Edward enter York. He will look forward to that, as they obviously do. We shall soon see what entertainments, receptions, and feasts they lay on for his pleasure!

Now, I go to see Richard, in the hope that he will welcome me into his confidence about what passed between him and Harry Buckingham. He is always pleased to see me, but I never presume on his company, especially now he is king! I hope it is about Buckingham. The man looked very agitated and exhausted when he arrived, as if he had ridden post-haste from London with very urgent news for the king. Perhaps Richard is somewhat suspicious of his rather strange behaviour, as I am, and wants to discuss it?

I am often the first to be told important news, as his closest friend.

I shall soon know!

Richard, King of England, Gloucester, 29 July 1483

‘Francis, I am beside myself. I cannot believe my stupidity. I have been blinkered like a very horse, blinded by his charm and vivacity, by his silver tongue and protestations of loyalty! What can I have been thinking of, not to see the other side of him—the avariciousness, the foolishness, the stupidity—the rashness?

Underneath the charm, he is only thinking of himself. He is just like George, too much like George! And I loved him, so I tried to ignore his bad traits! But he was my brother—perhaps I could be forgiven for that? But this young fool has hoodwinked me completely. Why do I go for these charming but unstable men? I prefer the down-to-earth, rather taciturn Northerners in theory. What you see is what you get. But somehow, I let myself be taken in by the Harry Buckinghams of this world!

And look how I have heaped honours, estates, and positions upon him! Mistakenly, I see that now. But I was flattered by his open-heartedness, his unfailing support of me from the first, by his willingness to speak most eloquently on my behalf! I needed this loyalty and support so very badly to justify what I was doing in breaking my dear brother’s trust and ignoring his dying wishes in putting his son Edward aside and taking the throne for myself. I felt out on a limb, as if I were hanging over a precipice! And Buckingham provided me with the confidence, the determination, to take that final step! He is so self-confident and arrogant, so sure of himself! He acts without a moment’s hesitation or thought, as now. But I am deeper thinking. I ponder long over my actions, as you know. I have ever been cautious. I see both sides of a situation, which makes it hard for me to take decisions. In the end, I always have to take a chance and hope my decision is the right one, as decisiveness is all in effective rule! I found that as a soldier commanding men, and I find it now, as a king. It was out of my nature to take the throne, Francis! I did not want to do it. I felt it to be wrong. But I seemed to have no other choice at the time with the situation as it was!

I know that you and dear Anne have not been happy about my decision, have even deplored it. Although neither of you have said anything, I feel your uncertainty. But you have supported me unfailingly, of course, without demur.

I wanted to have Buckingham arrested at once for his contemptible and precipitate action, tried and executed without delay, as Hastings was. My anger was great and I let him know it! He was scandalised by my reaction to what he thought would be wonderful news, welcome news! He had not the understanding to see the baseness of what he had done, could not comprehend my grief and repulsion. I told him to get out of my sight and say nothing of what had occurred. I will deal with him later, as he should be dealt with, but not now, not in the middle of this Progress, in which I wish to show my people my sincere desire to rule them well!

Think what the reaction would be from the whole country! I would be inevitably linked in culpability. People would think that I had ordered him privily to carry out this dreadful deed! I will not be tarred with the same brush; blackened by another’s evil! I still have Hastings’s death on my conscience. Who knows whether that plot was all that Buckingham assured me it was? Hastings had been a loyal and stalwart supporter up to then, first of Edward, his king and dearest friend, then of me. Why should he suddenly turn against me, as Buckingham assured me at the time? Maybe Buckingham manoeuvred events then to his own advantage?

Who knows? But I will find out! Buckingham will be questioned before he is executed for this present vile deed. Maybe another, deeper chain of events will come to light? The truth will out!

And now, I must somehow put my grief and horror to the back of my mind and carry on with the Progress! I have learnt how to dissemble, thank goodness. It is part of a king’s stock-in-trade. But it will be difficult, so difficult! To have to smile and pretend that one is happy, when one is torn apart inside!

Soon, my dear Anne will meet me at Warwick. Then we will travel on to Pontefract, where my little son will join us. And so to York and his investiture. I must try to think of happier things. Our great reception at my favourite city, my northern capital. I know they have spent weeks preparing it!

And you will also be at my side, my dear Francis. The most loyal friend ever! What you must have thought of my foolish attachment to Buckingham, I cannot imagine. Now, after he has been shown up for what he is, you are the only one I can confide the truth in. Not even Anne will be told who killed the princes—though she, like everyone else, will soon suspect that something has happened to them, when they are no longer seen at the Tower!

I am sick at heart, Francis! The world and its evil ways are a heavy burden on me!’

Bishop Morton, Brecknock Castle, South Wales,
Early August 1483

My Dear Lady Beaufort,

It is done. It was surprisingly easy really. The angry and rebellious mood which Buckingham was in when he arrived back here after his stormy interview with the king at Gloucester made him a prime target for my suggestions. I hardly needed to persuade him. He was ready to get his revenge on the king, whom he feels has mistreated and berated him very harshly, after all the good service he has done him! He believes a wrong has been done to him; a base injustice!

I am sending this letter by your trusty steward Reginald Bray, who came post-haste after my brief and urgent note to you. Through him, I will also convey to you by word of mouth only, which is safer, more details of the course of action which, I believe, the Duke of Buckingham will now begin to pursue. His mind is set on revenge, that is certain! I have let him know that the Woodvilles are planning an uprising soon in the southern and western counties, which are already rebellious to the king, and I suggested that you, his aunt, would be very eager to take this golden opportunity and call on your son, Henry Tudor, to bring a great army from France and Brittany to join in this rebellion against King Richard and that you had agreed to a marriage between your son Henry and Queen Elizabeth’s elder daughter, Bess. I told him you had been visiting Queen Elizabeth in Westminster Sanctuary and that she had agreed to this marriage as long as the Woodvilles were given considerable help in rising against Richard. I pointed out that it would unite the warring factions of York and Lancaster forever and make sure that there was no more dissension. Buckingham’s reward for helping bring this about would assure him the highest office in the new regime!

His eyes glowed with anticipation of his glittering future if this were achieved! He knows that King Richard is now his enemy and will soon find a way to get rid of him. The alternative is far better, though he has always hated the Woodvilles for forcing him into marriage as a young boy, when a ward of Queen Elizabeth, with one of the queen’s sisters, who is a commoner, like them all. He considered her not worthy of marriage with one of the highest rank such as he! But now he must put his aversion aside to assure his own survival.

He was worried about the Woodvilles finding out before they started the uprising that, in fact, their young figurehead was already dead, but I pointed out that there was no way they could discover this. After all, Richard was unlikely to inform them or be accused of the deed, and Buckingham himself would certainly not make public his involvement.

He fell into the trap beautifully, as he did into yours with regard to Edward and Richard and was all for riding out that minute and raising his troops. He is rather foolish and gullible and easily led, thank goodness. It makes our task simpler!

If he only knew that he was not in fact responsible for the young princes’ deaths, but that they were already dead when he entered their chamber in the Tower late that night! But who is to tell him? Neither you nor I and no one else knows, except your trusty doctor! And he will certainly not incriminate himself. What some men will do for a great deal of gold! And I am sure the price you paid for his continued silence was very heavy? Would it not be better to assure yourself of his permanent silence? Surely that could be easily arranged by yourself, without employing others? Slip in a great overdose of the poppy into his wine glass, say, when he visits you next? That would surely be one weight off your mind!

Do you plan to ever tell your son about the boys’ elimination and your part in it? Better not, I would think. Keep it between ourselves! But of course, you will have to tell Lord Stanley, your good husband, about Buckingham’s planned insurrection. There is no need to reveal more to him. It is best he keeps himself completely aloof from the plot and stays with Richard. He must keep a foot in the king’s camp for the safety of you both. I am sure he is as good at dissembling, when the need arises, as his Lady wife!

I expect you will visit Queen Elizabeth in sanctuary at once when you receive this to tell her the good news about her change in fortunes and to impress on her that the rising planned by her family and their supporters must be timed to coincide exactly with Buckingham’s rebellion in the west!

Meanwhile, I suggest that you inform Henry at once of the planned uprising, so that a date can be set for the armies to synchronise their hosts’ movements.

I look forward to the visits of your well-trusted steward, Reginald Bray. I now have plenty to discuss with him and much to say for him to convey to you privily.

Your faithful servant, Madam.

John Morton,

Bishop of Bath and Wells

Edward, Prince of Wales, York, 8 September 1483

Today has been a wonderful but very tiring day for me. I tried to forget how ill and exhausted I felt, especially in the great Minster of York, where my investiture as Prince of Wales took place, to make me officially the next in line to the throne to my father, the king. But it was difficult, very difficult. I did not want to let my father down by giving way to my persistent cough, so I tried hard to stifle it. This often made things worse, and I felt so faint and breathless that I had to pray for strength to get through the endless ceremonials, prayers, and music without falling down. I was determined not to give in to my bodily weakness and somehow managed to keep upright, though at times I was very glad of my father’s encouraging smile to keep me going and my mother’s loving touch on my shoulder. She too is unwell. She has a troubling cough like me, but she has kept it from my father. He has enough to worry him now he is king.