‘Henry’s grandfather was driven to take the throne by King Richard’s ill-judgment and now the tables have turned,’ he had declared when he explained his intentions to me before we left Hereford. ‘The Beaufort claim has always been blighted by the stain of bastardy and Henry’s reign has been ruined by weak leadership, incompetence and female interference. I have always had the better claim and will make a better ruler. It has been proved time and again. Moreover I have defeated him in battle. I am king both by right and conquest.’
I bit back the urge to point out that it was not Richard but Dick and Edward who had defeated King Henry’s army because I agreed that his claim to the throne was better. Through both his mother and his father his lineage ran direct from King Edward the Third, which was more than could be said for Henry who, even though his father had been king before him, might be said to have a more direct claim on the French throne than on the English one through his de Valois mother. Besides, I was not averse to becoming Queen of England. Neville ambition coursed in my blood. Short of being admitted to the gates of Heaven, no man or woman ever reached higher than the throne. I am not sure that even my aspiring father ever envisaged that for me.
I was more than delighted that Cuthbert and Hilda were willing to join me at Baynard’s and had the York steward arrange accommodation for them and a place for their son as a page in his own house. I always preferred to keep ladies close to me whom I knew I could trust and, having shared my childhood, Hilda had always been foremost in that role. For his part Cuthbert, ever the faithful knight and brother, also served me well as a conduit of affairs in Richard’s inner court.
It was Edmund who described to me the sequence of events on the tenth of October when his father walked into the Parliament to claim the throne. During the year since that ignominious midnight departure from Ludlow, Edmund had matured very much in the image of his father. He had not yet quite reached my height but when we conversed his flecked green eyes met my gaze with refreshing candour and he expressed himself with clarity and brevity, uncomplicated by political nuance as Edward’s remarks often were now, reflecting his cousin Dick’s influence, I surmised. In addition I noticed that in his father’s presence Edmund was was usually to be found standing quietly at his shoulder and they frequently exchanged hushed confidences. Even when Edward was also present it was to Edmund that Richard turned for a small service or confirmation of a fact. Officially he was still an underage squire but he was also playing his role as Earl of Rutland, his father’s aide and confidant, with increasing skill.
He came back alone from Westminster Hall looking dejected, bending his knee before my chair and casting a frown at the companions gathered around me. ‘My lord father sent me to you,’ he said. ‘May I speak privately with your grace?’
As soon as we were alone he pulled up a stool beside me and leaned close. ‘I hope it will not upset you too much, my lady mother, if I tell you that my father was not acclaimed king today as he expected to be. I fear he overestimated his position, even among those lords who are allied to York.’
I had more or less anticipated this news, partly because of the gloomy expression on Edmond’s face and partly because I had never been as optimistic as Richard that his fellow peers would easily rid themselves of their anointed monarch, ineffective and hag-ridden though he might be.
I folded my hands in my lap and nodded. ‘Tell me exactly what took place, Edmund.’
His account was solemn and meticulous. ‘We rode round to the Great Hall of Westminster; the streets were very quiet, as if London was empty. There were eight of us in my lord father’s retinue and we dismounted and walked into the building in procession, my father preceded by his bearer carrying the great sword of state. To our surprise the hall was empty except for several ushers, one of whom told us that the two Houses were sitting separately and directed us to the lords’ session in the Painted Chamber. King Henry was not there; the throne stood unoccupied on a dais at one end of the room but the lords present were seated around a long table, including my uncle of Salisbury and our cousin of Warwick. Some of the Lancastrian earls were absent; Exeter, Northumberland, Devon, Somerset.’
‘I am glad Exeter was not there,’ I remarked as he paused to draw breath.
‘They say he is in Scotland with the queen, trying to raise an army,’ Edmund commented. ‘I was surprised to see Edward there. I thought he would be considered under age for parliament. Anyway, my lord father did not wait to be greeted. He bowed to the assembly then marched straight past the table. Lord Bourchier, who had been speaking, fell silent and they all watched my father walk up to the dais, mount the steps and put his hand on the arm of the throne, as if to take his seat. Then he turned and waited to be encouraged to do so, to be acclaimed king, but no voice was raised. Even Edward did not speak, although I saw him open his mouth as if to do so then close it again. He looked surprised but not nearly as surprised as our father who nevertheless declared in a loud voice that he claimed the throne as the heir of King Richard the Second. Then the Archbishop of Canterbury stood up and asked him if he would like to see the king. My father looked furious and said – these are his exact words I think – “There is no one in the realm who should more fitly come to me than I to him.”’
Edmund gazed at me curiously. ‘What do you think, lady mother? Did he do the right thing?’
I sighed and shook my head. ‘I do not know, my son. As we rode through the border towns, all the Welsh marcher lords were encouraging him to claim the throne but the nobles think very differently here in London. It is a solemn and serious matter to dethrone an anointed king to whom you have knelt and sworn allegiance. It is an apostasy which can reverberate down through the hierarchy, perhaps encouraging petty vassals to disassociate themselves from their overlords. What do you think, Edmund?’
He sucked his teeth pensively, then took a deep breath and said something which touched and astonished me. ‘I think my lord father has suffered too much rejection. For years he has served the crown with skill and honour and been cheated of his dues by corrupt officials; he has suffered the torture of being attainted and discarded like a worthless rag and yet he is the noblest and the worthiest man in the kingdom. Now his closest allies, his brother-in-law and nephew, even his son and heir, have failed to speak up for him. If I had been a member of the House of Lords today, even if I had stood alone, I would have hailed him as my king.’
My eyes filled with tears as I gazed on his earnest face. I reached out, took both his hands in mine and raised them to my lips. ‘Bravo, Edmund,’ I said huskily. ‘No man has a truer or more loyal son than you are to your father.’
He clasped my hands tightly and leaned forward to kiss my cheek. ‘No man has a truer or more loyal wife than you are to my father. I believe that if women were allowed in the House of Lords you would have raised your voice with me.’
I smiled ruefully, wondering what he would say of me if he knew the truth. ‘But women are not allowed,’ I said, ‘and I will not have the opportunity. I do believe however that your father would make an admirable king. What is he doing now?’
‘At the suggestion of the archbishop he has gone with the other lords to Blackfriars to discuss what is to be done. He told me that despite this setback he is still preparing for his coronation on All Saints Day. That is in three weeks’ time.’ He pushed back his stool and stood up, bowing and flicking back his thick dark-honey hair in a way that reminded me vividly of his father as a young man. ‘Now I must leave you, lady mother. I am to go to Blackfriars and wait to escort my father back to the palace. I am sure he will want to tell you all this himself when he returns.’
After he had gone I sat for several minutes pondering his belief that I would have joined in his acclamation of Richard as king. It did not surprise me that Edward had not raised his voice when the others did not. His silence had disappointed Edmund but then he was not his father’s heir. It would not have helped Edward’s own cause or that of his father if he had been the only
one to acclaim him king. Had any of the others spoken up I was sure that he would have done so too and probably Hal and Dick as well. I would not have said so to Edmund but I thought Richard should have taken time to sound out opinion among his fellow peers before plunging in with his claim as he did. I believed that a king should rule with the sworn consent of his peers, not merely because he had the right. If his peers felt they could not swear allegiance because they had already done so to another, then he would have a job persuading them otherwise.
At this time Edward was still living in the Earl of Warwick’s household at the Erber Inn and that evening Dick and he came to Westminster Palace together with Tom Neville and his wife Maud. Dinner was just over. We had dined in our great chamber quietly with several of Richard’s household knights and their ladies who now mingled around the hearth while hippocras, mead and sweetmeats circulated.
Since our arrival in London I had found no opportunity for conversation with Edward so I was delighted when he came straight to my side and lured me off to a cushioned seat in a window embrasure. ‘I wore the beautiful silk jupon you made for me at my knighting, my lady mother,’ he said, after kissing my hand and cheek. ‘As you intended. I wish you had been there.’
I sighed. ‘You cannot wish that more than I do, Edward. Tell me where and when it was and who was your other sponsor?’
One of his heart-stopping smiles lit his face. ‘Dick was the main sponsor of course but my second was your brother Will. There – I knew that would please you. He has been Dick’s number two in Calais for the past couple of years and has been a magnificent supporter of the York cause.’
‘So I gather. Was the ceremony held in Calais castle?’ I asked.
‘Not entirely. I bathed and held my vigil in the castle chapel but the actual dubbing was done on the harbour quay before we boarded to cross to England. It was Dick’s idea. He said the men should witness it so they would know they were following a true knight into battle. I think, dear lady mother, they would have had a very clear view of your magnificent white rose embroidery when I knelt before them all for Warwick’s accolade.’
I studied his face, so mobile and expressive at that moment, although I knew he had the ability to keep his emotions well hidden if the need arose. ‘And what went through your mind when you held your vigil, Edward? I assume it to be a time for reflection and self-examination and not easy for a man of action like you.’
A shadow crossed his eyes. ‘You are right, I found it a great challenge. You may be surprised to hear that I thought a great deal about you and my brothers and sisters who were left behind when we fled. I have not told you of my sorrow when I heard of Ursula’s death. You must have been heartbroken.’
To my consternation I felt sudden tears fill my eyes and spill down my cheeks. For a minute I could not speak and Edward impulsively put his hand on my arm. ‘You have been through so much, my mother. I hope one day I can make it up to you. Was it very terrible being a prisoner?’
I nodded, took a deep breath and found my voice. ‘Ursula’s death was the worst part. But all my children are precious to me and you particularly, Edward. You have had to become a man so young. I am in awe of what you have achieved.’
He gave a dismissive shrug. ‘I have achieved nothing until I see you as queen and my father as king. And I will do it, with Dick’s help.’
I was about to ask him why he had not spoken up when Richard had claimed the throne but raised voices across the room drew our attention.
‘I hope by querying my silence today you are not suggesting that I have not supported you through thick and thin in your fight for justice, my lord duke?’ It was Warwick’s voice raised in anger. ‘Do not forget that it was Edward and I who made it possible for you to return to England when we defeated the king’s army at Northampton. It would have been more than mere courtesy to ask whether we would support your claim to the throne before you actually made it.’
Edward removed his hand from my arm and turned to look. Richard had been sitting comfortably with a cup of wine in one hand but now he stood up abruptly. ‘It was because I assumed you would want to glean maximum advantage from your glorious victory that I did not consider it necessary to seek your opinion, my lord.’His tone was hard, his expression guarded, but his temper was under control.
‘It was high-handed to assume anything of the kind, especially when it concerns deposing a king who has occupied that throne for thirty-eight years and to whom we have all vowed allegiance. I, my brother Tom and your son Edward are all agreed on this. You have over-stepped the mark, my lord duke.’ Warwick’s attitude was dangerously aggressive, his stance wide, one hand on his dagger-sheath.
Edward rose but did not move away and my eyes widened when I saw Edmund move between Dick and Richard and stoutly defend his father. ‘Calm yourself, sir, I beg you,’ he said firmly to Warwick. ‘For we all know that York has the true and only right to the crown and my father is the true and rightful king. Henry of Lancaster has not been king for thirty-eight years, he has been a usurper.’
Edward suddenly strode across the room and put his hand on Edmund’s shoulder. ‘Hold hard, little brother. Dick and Tom are our friends and cousins. We do not tell them what they do and do not know and will and will not do.’ He then swept a bow to Warwick and snatched two cups from a passing servant’s tray. ‘You have made it clear where you stand on the matter of the crown, Dick, so let us drink to the fact that our attainders are rescinded and you have Middleham Castle back again. They tell me John Neville led his garrison out of the gates Friday last.’ He placed one of the cups in Warwick’s hand and drew him away from his brother and father, arm about his shoulder.
I had drawn a kerchief from my sleeve to wipe away the remnants of my tears and now Edward’s sudden mention of John Neville made my stomach lurch. Cuthbert had told me of his meeting with him at Middleham when John had been granted tenure of the castle in return for withholding his army from York at Ludford Bridge. I had remarked that bringing his men to a confrontation and then standing aside from it seemed to be a favourite strategy of John’s. Sitting on the fence was certainly one way of ensuring you were never on the wrong side but it could hardly be considered the mark of a reliable ally. Now he was suffering the consequences – and he would suffer severely because the possession of Middleham and Sheriff Hutton had been his lifetime’s ambition.
Tucking my kerchief away, I wandered over to speak to Maud who was seated beside the buffet with Hilda. ‘Dick seems very hot-tempered these days,’ I murmured in her ear. ‘Has he lost faith in Richard, do you think?’
‘I would say that he is pinning his hopes on Edward, rather than losing faith in the duke,’ Maud replied in a whisper. ‘I think you would hear a different tune from my lord of Warwick if it was Edward claiming the throne.’
I frowned. ‘Edward? He is only eighteen.’
‘Yes but he is a man.’ Maud caught Edward’s eye over Warwick’s shoulder and blew him a kiss, which was returned with the added bonus of a wink. ‘And man enough to have notched up a significant victory on the battlefield already. He is a very popular lad your son, Cicely; especially in London. Do not underestimate the importance of popular acclaim.’
I watched the two cousins raise their cups to each other and drink. ‘I do not but I am afraid Richard has always prized obedience over adulation.’
Barons, bishops and lawyers agonized for days over Richard’s claim to the throne, while he persisted in continuing his costly and complicated arrangements for a coronation ceremony at Westminster Abbey. King Henry spent much of his time at prayer in the chapel of the bishop of London’s palace where he was lodged and four hundred miles away in Scotland Queen Margaret negotiated for arms, men and money to launch a counter attack in the name of their son, Prince Edward.
In the end the lords came to Richard with a compromise. Henry was to remain king for his lifetime and Richard was to be officially recognized as heir to the throne and appointed Protector of the Realm. Thi
s time he did not make the mistake of failing to consult anyone. He called a meeting in the great chamber. Hal had gone north to reclaim his Yorkshire estates and keep an eye on the Scottish March so he was not there but for once I was included, as was the new Chancellor, Hal’s son George Neville, bishop of Exeter who, apart from his priest’s tonsure, was a man something after the style of his brother Dick, pugnacious and with a sharp intellect.
Richard began by running through the main points of the proposed Act of Settlement and concluded with his own scathing opinion of it. ‘They call it an Act of Settlement but of course it settles nothing.’
He appeared in a remarkably buoyant mood nevertheless, striding about the room waving the scroll on which the terms of the Act were penned in a neat, clerk’s script. ‘However I am inclined to accept it, not because I like it but because it will never work. King Henry may have signed it but he will sign anything; that is why I am made protector – again! But the lady who calls herself queen will never agree to it because it disinherits her son and so she will have to be dealt with on the battlefield. Her misguided followers who were scattered after Northampton have gathered their forces in Northumberland and are waiting for the Scottish reinforcements she has acquired by giving away two of our key border strongholds, Berwick and Roxburgh, both of them vital to England’s security, but the Frenchwoman would not know or care about that. The Scots will be gloating over their prizes and doubtless supplying her with undisciplined mercenaries and faulty guns in return, like the one which recently exploded and killed their own king.
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