by Anne O'Brien
She had been urged to come prepared with a gift. It is a pretty psalter and not without value. I will make use of it. Or perhaps I will give it to Meg.
At least they should produce some comely children. A son to inherit the throne.
I may have to be less critical of her and include her in my prayers.
You will be pleased to know this. That I may have been wrong.
Yet I am old enough to wait before casting judgement. She has a very forthright stare. I suspect that the battle has not even begun.
Why am I thinking in terms of war and conflict? You would say that I should know better.
Your sister who is not yet quite won over by the Woodville charm.
Cecily
Cecily, King’s Mother, to Edward, King of England
Written from Baynard’s Castle, October 1464
Edward,
I am once again displeased.
It has come to my attention that you have made a decision which I consider unwise. I cannot allow it to go unremarked.
I recall suggesting that you allow your new wife to lodge at Greenwich Palace until you could make better accommodation for her than at the Palace of Westminster. Although why she could not occupy some of the royal apartments there, or in the Tower, I could not imagine.
But the matter of Greenwich Palace. It was not my intention to suggest that you grant her the property, for her personal use. It troubles me that you could be so thoughtless, and that she would be so insensitive in taking over an establishment much loved by your brothers and sister Meg, who are in residence there. Do you intend to turn them out so that your wife can rule supreme and probably accommodate her own extensive family? Where do you suggest that Meg and your brothers will live? Do I have to take them back within the walls of Baynard’s Castle? You must know that they are of an age to be in possession of their own households.
I hear that you have also granted your wife the use of Ormonde’s Inn in Knightrider Street beyond the City walls, presumably for when she needs to retire from the hurly-burly of Court. Is she so fragile?
I will not mention the jointure of four thousand marks every year that you have granted to her.
I await your rapid response.
Cecily, King’s Mother
Edward, King of England, to Cecily, King’s Mother
Written from the Palace of Westminster
My Lady Mother,
Your disapproval on this matter does you no favour. How could you think so poorly of my care for my family? Would I deprive my family of suitable accommodations?
It is my intention to extend the palace at Greenwich, already much improved at the hand of Queen Marguerite, with its new jetty. I consider it perfect for Elizabeth and our children when God sees fit to bless us. Meanwhile Meg will remain at Greenwich as long as she wishes, or until a marriage is arranged for her. There will also be ample room for George and his ever-increasing household. How does a boy of fifteen years require almost three hundred servants and officials? I will inform him that the number must be curtailed. It will be good for him to practise economy.
As for Diccon, it is my intention to send him north, to learn the skills of knighthood and leadership at the hands of my cousin of Warwick. I expect he will be based in Middleham. You have encouraged me to strengthen my ties with Warwick. Giving him the care of my brother will show him the respect I have for his friendship and loyalty.
As for your own comfort, madam, Baynard’s Castle will continue to be yours, and the use of Fotheringhay, which I know remains dear to you. I will also ensure that the accommodations at the Royal Wardrobe will be refurbished for the use of the family.
I trust this all meets with your approval.
Elizabeth has expressed a keen desire for life at Greenwich.
Your dutiful son,
Edward
Cecily, King’s Mother, to Katherine, Dowager Duchess of Norfolk
Written from Fotheringhay
Dear Kat,
I am becoming beleaguered. My family is prepared to be welcoming to Edward’s new bride, while I am out of step with them. You are the only one to whom I can communicate my anxieties. Except Warwick, and he is so angry I am leaving him alone to work out his personal melancholy.
Am I being too intolerant? I know you will be honest.
Dame Grey might not yet be Queen of England, crowned and anointed, but still it begins. When I met with her, I admit to being beguiled by her smiling face and graceful manners. She almost won me over.
And now? How naive I was, how willing to be seduced by a mistress of a sweet expression and dulcet tones. Much as my son, I expect. Her father, now promoted to become a member of Edward’s Council, is regarded as one of the most important men at Court. His heir, Anthony Woodville, by virtue of being wed to the Scales heiress, is now addressed as Lord Scales.
I think it must have been in her mind when we met at Reading, although nothing was said. Margaret, one of the Woodville sisters, is betrothed to Thomas, Lord Maltravers, son and heir of the Earl of Arundel. How high they look. This may be the first but I fear it will not be the last.
Will Edward see sense and not allow every prominent and useful marriage to be snapped up by this ambitious family? Warwick will advise him to have a care, if he will not attend to me. It would be unwise to antagonise the English nobility by putting all the marriageable eggs into one Woodville basket.
Will you come to Court? I could do with a sympathetic ear. If I continue to express my determination to not set foot in Westminster Abbey when that woman is crowned, I may be the only member of the family to be absent. Perhaps you and I, Katherine, can sit together in Baynard’s Castle and enjoy a stripping of the Woodville character.
I always had a suspicion of Jacquetta’s motives. She may have married low after Bedford’s death, but she certainly intends to make up for it as mother by law to the King of England.
I will not complain again to you about Edward’s high-handed encroachment on Greenwich, but I am sure that I will wax long and bitterly about the Woodville family.
You see I am still driven to address my son as Edward.
Your thoroughly irritated sister,
Cecily
Katherine, Dowager Duchess of Norfolk, to Cecily, King’s Mother
Written from Epworth, January 1465
My dear and intolerant but wise sister,
I should warn you before you say more, and in a tone of voice that both you and I might regret. I am planning to marry again.
And I advise you to attend the coronation. Much good may come of it.
I have nothing more to say of this impending marriage as yet. And will not until it is all settled.
Your sister,
Katherine
Cecily, King’s Mother, to Katherine, Dowager Duchess of Norfolk
Written from Baynard’s Castle
What?
Who?
I can think of no man suitable.
And why would you wish to wed for the fourth time?
Who is it that has his greedy eye on your estates and moneybags? He can hardly be wedding you for your youthful beauty.
And why did you not tell me who, in your previous letter? I smell a rat.
My decision about the coronation is made.
Cecily
Katherine, Dowager Duchess of Norfolk, to Cecily, King’s Mother
Written from Epworth
I suppose I did not tell you because I know you will despise what has been planned.
My fourth, and very new husband, is a Woodville rat. John Woodville.
Is it worth our wasting ink and our couriers’ time and horseflesh for these missives?
I can already hear your explosion of outrage.
Katherine
Cecily, King’s Mother, to Katherine, Dowager Duchess of Norfolk
Written from Baynard’s Castle
Katherine!
In the name of the Blessed Virgin!
By the time I received the news at you
r own hand, the scandal was drenching London. What a wretched fool you have made of yourself.
He is all of nineteen years old. Shall I tell you what they say? That it is a diabolical marriage. That you are a slip of a girl at sixty-seven years, seeking to renew your youth in the bed of a mere boy.
What they say of him is unrepeatable. Power-grabbing and ambitious are the mildest faults.
Who persuaded you? Edward, I presume. All to please his wife and further the Woodville aggrandisement.
I weep for you. I feel the humiliation for you.
He hardly lusts after tumbling you between the sheets. What will you talk about?
Cecily
Katherine, Dowager Duchess of Norfolk, to Cecily, King’s Mother
Written from Epworth
Thank you for your compassion.
It was entirely absent, of course, but I do not need it.
Do not weep. John Woodville will be no burden to me. I doubt our paths will cross too often. My life will not change to any degree and I will certainly refuse to be addressed as anything but Duchess of Norfolk. My husband has an ambition to make a name for himself as a knight. I expect him to spend most of his days at Court.
The gossip has no effect on me. When did it ever? The marriage has been consummated sufficiently to please the church and without embarrassment for either of us. Any further intimacies are of no concern to anyone but myself and my Woodville husband. Those who wish to mock and crow their derision are free to do so.
And do not pity me.
He makes me laugh.
Don’t cast me off, Cis. I was given little choice in this match. I would hate not hearing the news from your bitter pen.
Katherine
Edward, King of England, to Cecily, King’s Mother
Written from the Palace of Westminster
My Lady Mother,
I request that you will be present at Elizabeth’s coronation. I will not, of course, as it is tradition that I absent myself. It is her day, but it would be most seemly for you to be there as King’s Mother. Elizabeth’s own mother will also be there to support her.
I cannot command it. I can ask of your generosity and knowledge of Court matters that you take your place in the celebration. It would not be good for the realm if there appears to be more dissention within the family.
Your dutiful son,
Edward
Cecily, King’s Mother, to Edward, King of England
Written from Fotheringhay
Dissention?
I am no creator of dissention.
Perhaps you should look closer to home. Do you think the Court magnates will take kindly towards your plans for promotion of Woodvilles? Your wife must be overjoyed at the sudden preferment of her brothers, even before she is crowned Queen. Lionel Woodville earmarked for the vacant post of Bishop of Salisbury, Edward Woodville destined to be Admiral of the Fleet.
I cannot even put into words my opinion of the marriage of Sir John Woodville with your aunt Norfolk. It is a disgrace and a humiliation.
My mood is not one of rejoicing.
Cecily, King’s Mother
Royal Proclamation
On this day, the twenty-sixth day of May in the year 1465
The crowning of Queen Elizabeth
In Westminster Abbey
God bless her
And God bless King Edward the Fourth our King
England’s Chronicle, May 1465
Welcome, Queen Elizabeth.
We trust you spent a comfortable night at the Tower before your pageant-filled journey to Westminster. We wonder at the cost of so many peacock feathers to create angels’ wings but we are assured by the citizens of London that it made a fine scene. Those starving in the gutters of our City will have been highly entertained.
All in all, a most auspicious day, the sun shining on her golden beauty. So many guests to honour her regal enhancement, too many to mention.
Who was not there?
We will leave you to guess.
As for the Queen, as long as she can curb her Woodville desires to promote her family, the country will welcome her with open arms. Queen Marguerite has dealt a death blow to the popularity of foreign Queens. For our King to take an English woman to wear the royal crown with him is perhaps a wise choice.
Anne, Dowager Duchess of Buckingham, to Cecily, King’s Mother
Written from the Palace of Westminster, the twenty-seventh day of May 1465
Dear Cecily,
Well, here it is, as promised, and I wager you will read it even if you have sworn to ignore all mention of the Event of the Year. You will wish to know every element of that astonishing day. I thought you would have the courage to attend.
What should I tell you? What will you dislike most? Ned’s extravagance in purchasing jewels, cloth of gold, fine silk for her chair and her saddle, and a particularly eye-catching gold cup and basin so that she might wash her hands? Or the purple mantle, the canopy of cloth of gold and the sceptres in both hands as she entered the Abbey, flanked by bishops. Her horse-litter rivalled your own.
Watch your power, Cis! You now have a rival.
We were well represented amongst her attendants when she prostrated herself before the high altar. All very appropriate, although it provided some amusement that the soles of her Woodville bare feet were not altogether clean from the Abbey dust.
What else would you like to know?
It could not help but be noticed that you were absent from the massed ranks of the high-born retinue that accompanied the new Queen.
And then the banquet in Westminster Hall. Trumpets to announce the courses, twenty dishes for each course. Clarence held the basin for the new Queen to wash her pretty fingers. We all were required to do an awful lot of kneeling. Your daughter Elizabeth’s husband Suffolk knelt at her side with Essex throughout the tiresomely lengthy banquet. I suspect they mentally counted every dish in the three separate courses as their knees groaned and creaked for the whole of the three hours it took us to eat our way through it.
The minstrels were better than usual, a procession of mounted knights impressed, and then the whole finished off with a tournament. Altogether a tour de force.
I have to say, she was crowned most regally.
Don’t you wish you had been there? I enjoyed the Woodville display. Your daughter Meg also seems to hold our new royal lady in high esteem.
You might be my lady the King’s Mother, Cis, but Elizabeth Woodville is now undoubtedly Queen of England.
Anne
Cecily, King’s Mother, to Anne, Dowager Duchess of Buckingham
Written from Fotheringhay
Sister,
Thank you, although it was not necessary to drown me in so much irrelevant detail. Can I imagine a smirk? I know what coronations are like. I attended the festivity when Marguerite was crowned – and nothing good came of that.
The effigies of flaxen-wigged virgins in the pageant that welcomed Elizabeth Woodville seemed to me to be inappropriate. Her hair might be fair, but a virgin she is not!
It was not lack of courage that kept me away. It was lack of approval.
Sometimes, Anne, I miss Richard more than I can bear. Sometimes I am still sick with love. Which perhaps should make me more compassionate towards Edward, but it does not.
There is more to consider than coronations and inadvisable love matches. I wish Edward would set his mind to eradicating the threats that loom around him. Marguerite might be in France with her son, but Henry is still in the north. The last I heard he was in Bamburgh Castle before fleeing across the country and taking refuge in Lancashire. It would be best to have him under lock and key.
The Yorkist crown is still not secure, Anne. Taxation is high and resented. All that we achieved through Edward becoming King might well be undermined. Critically, my son must turn his mind to the needs of the country.
We may have a new Queen, but I can never forget: I was Queen by right. If it were not for the horror of Wakefield
, I would be wearing the crown and there would be no Woodvilles snapping at Plantagenet heels.
What a terrible stitching this is, and now far too late to unpick. Warwick continues to snarl. King Louis is tossing a French coin to see where he should give his future allegiance.
It breaks my heart. We did not raise Edward to be so deceitful and manipulative.
The Council is not won over. I am full of anger. Ambassadors gossip about it through the courts of Europe.
Elizabeth Woodville has usurped my power. She has usurped my position. She has usurped my son.
Cecily
Chapter Twenty-One
A Surfeit of Marriages
England’s Chronicle, August 1465
More weddings on our horizon?
Woodville weddings?
Oh, yes!
Prepare to be entertained. Or infuriated.
Duchess Cecily will not be amused.
Anne, Dowager Duchess of Buckingham, to Cecily, King’s Mother
Written from the Palace of Westminster
Dear Cecily,
Well, you warned me. I was loath to believe you. Now I do, but what could I do about it? I don’t know whether to be admiring of her ability to outmanoeuvre my royal nephew, or horrified at the result. Horror is uppermost at this moment.
My family is to be part of the Woodville plot to consolidate its power by whatever means possible. By marriage, of course. Has Ned discussed this with you? I doubt it. He seems to have handed all control over to his new wife, simply giving his name and signature to endorse the fait accompli.
This is what has been agreed. Queen Elizabeth’s sister Katherine Woodville is to marry my grandson Henry. It was bad enough that his wardship, he still being a minor, was given into the care of the Queen. Would I, his grandmother, not accomplish the task with more skill? Now Henry’s marriage is arranged, and what a catch it is for the Woodville girl. She will hop in one brief religious ceremony from being Mistress Woodville to Duchess of Buckingham.