The Queen's Rival

by Anne O'Brien

Cecily

  Elizabeth, Queen of England, to Cecily, King’s Mother

  Written from the Palace of Westminster, sent by fast courier Written by a clerk on the command of Lord Hastings, the Chamberlain of the Royal Household

  I am instructed by Elizabeth the Queen to inform you that on this day, the ninth day of April in the year 1483, our Lord King Edward, the Fourth of that name, died in the early hours of the morning in his chamber in the Palace of Westminster.

  His death was unexpected.

  Any suggestions that it was poison or malpractice are false.

  The Queen is in mourning.

  I have informed the King’s brother, the Duke of Gloucester, as well as the household of the heir, Prince Edward, at Ludlow.

  All my condolences to you, my lady, on this tragic occurrence.

  Hastings

  Duchess Cecily’s intercession to the Blessed Virgin Mary

  Hail Mary, full of Grace, Our Lord is with thee.

  I am stricken. I am disbelieving. I am struck with the utter desolation of loss. I cannot weep but there is a vast emptiness within me.

  How can death stalk us so silently? Who had presentiment of this, a healthy man in his fortieth year, to be struck down so wilfully?

  Will God continue to punish me for my sins? I recall the thoughtlessly cruel words I wrote to Edward, in the aftermath of union with Elizabeth Woodville. I see them in my mind’s eye as if I wrote them yesterday.

  Are you so lacking in political sense? This marriage is a travesty of your birth and your inheritance. You are not your father’s son.

  I should never have penned those words. Guilt has tracked me through the years and I never made my peace with Edward. I have sought God’s infinite mercy, felt his hand of kindness and blessing in my days here in retreat from the world, yet I have lost my eldest most well-beloved son.

  My heart is broken. My own sixty-seven years bear down on me. I regret when Edward and I were estranged, driven by jealousy and family division. I ask for your ineffable grace, as I pray that God will receive his soul and take Edward to his bosom. I regret that I did not see him before he died, to say farewell. That we could not have mended all our past hurts.

  Holy Virgin, you know full well the agony of losing a son. Have mercy on me and give me comfort.

  What do I do now? I am afraid. A realm with a child King is a realm with a weakness at its heart.

  Grant your servant Cecily the strength to return to Court.

  Grant me the will to show honest compassion to the Queen. It would not be appropriate to resurrect past hostilities, no matter how deep my suspicion of her lust for power.

  Amen

  Cecily, Dowager Duchess of York, no longer King’s Mother, to Katherine, Dowager Duchess of Norfolk

  Written from Berkhamsted

  I am sitting here in my Great Hall at Berkhamsted, my baggage and coffers stacked around me, determined to return to Westminster after being in receipt of the news of Ned’s death. They say he had suffered from a severe chill after a day of leisure, fishing on the Thames. Such an ignoble end for a King. Or perhaps it was a fever from his campaigning days.

  I feel a presentiment of danger, strong enough to bring me out of my self-imposed isolation. I cannot remain in daily prayer and contemplation of God’s holy word when the House of York might be under threat.

  The Prince is still so young. A child King is an invitation for overweening magnates to scuttle out from the tapestries, to seize what they can. I know full well that the Council will guide him. Does he not have an uncle perfectly capable of standing as Regent, to advise and counsel him? I must have faith in the work my son did to make England and the Yorkist monarchy strong.

  Besides, the Prince is twelve years old, and will soon be considered of an age to begin to take command for himself. I can think of no man better to guide his feet and his hands in the burden of ruling than his uncle of Gloucester, who I expect is travelling fast from the north to pick up the reins. Gloucester will collect him from Ludlow, escort him to London and arrange for his coronation, if the Council has not already done so. What is amiss?

  The only true fear that I cannot shake off is that the Queen will object to any power that Gloucester claims. She may wish the Regency for herself. Will any man stand against her? I have lost touch with the competing factions at Court. Once I would have known. My only certainty is that I must be there. I expect that I will soon pick up the threads, when I have been at Court for even a single day. I doubt that I have lost my skill in weaving those threads into a pattern of my own liking.

  First, I must mourn my son. Oh, Katherine, I grieve. It is unnatural that a mother should outlive so many of her children.

  Do come and we will overlook this transition of power together. I had thought to live a retired life until the day of my death, but it cannot be. With good planning we should be able to settle the new kingdom on the Prince’s slight shoulders. It worries me that all Edward achieved rests on the authority of a boy of twelve years. Or, more truthfully, on the ambitions of the adults who surround him. Most notably Anthony Woodville, Earl Rivers. Governor, tutor and uncle, a man of vast influence on the mind of a young boy.

  I suspect that my son Diccon will have much to contend with, fighting off the Woodvilles who will range themselves next to the inexperienced King. We must not allow them to bury the Plantagenet counsel in an onslaught of Woodville clamour. At least Diccon will have a loyal ally in Lord Hastings.

  I know that I must exert myself once more.

  Your sister,

  Cecily

  I cannot sleep. Our lost sister would urge me to dose myself with tincture of valerian, but she is not here to do it. Such little things remind me of her.

  England’s Chronicle, April 1483

  Disturbances in the dovecote.

  The Woodvilles are emerging, in warlike mode.

  The late King’s wishes, expressed in his will, are ignored by the Council which leans dangerously towards the Queen’s family. Lord Hastings’s vehemently loyal arguments are cast aside. So is he. No longer Chamberlain, we hear, and will probably lose the Captaincy of Calais.

  It has been decided. There will be no Protectorate with the Duke of Gloucester at the helm of the new ship. The King will reign in his own right on the day he is crowned on the fourth day of May. With a Council to advise him, of course. A Council with a surfeit of Woodvilles.

  Where will this leave the Duke of Gloucester, the last remaining son of Richard Duke of York and Duchess Cecily? As a mere member of the Council, outnumbered by the Queen’s family.

  And what will Gloucester have to say about that?

  Even as we bear witness to the obsequies of the late King, as he is laid to rest in St George’s Chapel in Windsor on the twentieth day of April, we watch in interest and some trepidation.

  Cecily, Dowager Duchess of York, to Edward, Prince of Wales

  Written from Baynard’s Castle, in the first week of April 1483

  To my grandson,

  There will be difficult days ahead for you.

  Here is the advice of your grandmother. Come to London as quickly as may be, where you will be received as King. Put your trust in those around you, but keep your own counsel until your uncle of Gloucester meets with you. There are many who will see a youth as fair game, to be hunted down to be used for their own ends.

  No matter who tells you otherwise, beware how many you gather around you in your entourage when you make your journey. I speak from experience when your grandfather marched into London, long before you were born. Too great a retinue smacks of an army. The crown is yours, without question. There is no need to enforce your claim with a vast force.

  I will be in London to greet you.

  Take advice from your uncle of Gloucester who will always be loyal to you, as he was to your father.

  I have sent with this letter a ring which once belonged to your grandfather, Richard, Duke of York. It is engraved with the falcon and fetterlock, a most my
stical symbol of the strength and duty of the House of York. It was the livery badge of your grandfather and your father. It should be yours also.

  With prayers that the Blessed Virgin holds you in her safekeeping,

  Cecily

  Prince Edward, Prince of Wales, to Cecily, Dowager Duchess of York

  Written from Ludlow Castle

  My thanks to you, my grandmother. Your concern for me is heartwarming at this sad time.

  Thank you for the advice. I am receiving much in recent days. I have had discussions over the size of my escort. My Lady Mother commands me to take no more than two thousand men with me on the road, and I will do as she bids. I will be escorted by my half-brother Richard Grey and my uncle Earl Rivers. I know they will have my best interests at heart.

  I look forward to meeting with my uncle of Gloucester. And with you, too.

  The Council has arranged for my coronation on the fourth day of May. I will be twelve years old and so well able to take the reins into my own hands. So my uncle Rivers tells me. He has always been a strong friend and support, as has my elder half-brother Thomas Grey, Marquess of Dorset. I will of course appoint my own Council, with advice from my Woodville uncle and brother.

  My thanks for the ring belonging to my grandfather. It is yet too big for my fingers, even for my thumb. I am wearing it around my neck on a chain so that I will never forget my allegiance to the House of York.

  Your grandson,

  Edward, Prince of Wales

  Cecily, Dowager Duchess of York, to Richard, Duke of Gloucester

  Written from Baynard’s Castle

  My son,

  I trust this meets you on the road.

  A warning, although you are probably aware without my courier.

  I fear for the independence of the young Prince. I doubt that the Dowager Queen will be allowed the powers of a Regent, which she covets above all, but the boy is surrounded by Woodvilles on his journey into London. Even the present Council is strongly Woodville in nature.

  Rivers and Sir Richard Grey have a considerable body of troops in the Prince’s retinue. I esteem Earl Rivers as the best of the Woodvilles, but he is not without ambition. Ned gave him true power over his son’s life and education. It may be that he sees himself as the most powerful man in England with Ned’s death. He is at the boy’s side, every hour, every day. I know that the Prince sees him as a friend, a man to look up to. And why would he not? Rivers has been at his side for the whole of his young life.

  Tell me what you plan to do.

  I hear that you attended a funeral ceremony for your brother in York, where you wept for his passing. I commend you on it. Your loyalty was well received by all who support the House of York. I was not at Ned’s interment in St George’s Chapel at Windsor since it would have been awash with Woodvilles.

  Your affectionate mother,

  Cecily

  Richard, Duke of Gloucester, to Cecily, Dowager Duchess of York

  Written from the road to London

  Madam,

  Your courier met up with me and your warning is well timed and most apposite.

  I think we have little to fear.

  I am informed by my legal people that my brother Edward had the political acumen to add a final codicil to his will, appointing me as Protector of the Realm during my nephew’s minority. Which should put a spoke in the ever-turning wheels of the Woodville ambitions. Were you aware? It seems that Ned was never without his suspicions of his Woodville relatives by marriage.

  I will be Lord Protector. I will ensure the safety of my nephew as King of England.

  I know what you will say: that royal uncles who have taken on the mantle of Regent in the past have died in imprisonment, under attack from those who resented their power. I could even find it amusing that they both bore my title of Gloucester. I swear it will not be my end. I also know the dangers of royal wives taking control. Marguerite did no good for King Henry when demanding authority in her own name. Elizabeth, I suspect, is certainly moving in that direction. I am by blood the natural Regent for the boy, and I have allies at Court. Lord Hastings will prove a strong right hand.

  I must move fast. Hastings encourages it.

  I will be in London soon and will visit you at Baynard’s Castle; I would be grateful if you would keep your most regal ear to the ground.

  Your dutiful son,

  Richard

  Cecily, Dowager Duchess of York, to Richard, Duke of Gloucester

  Written from Baynard’s Castle, April 1483

  My well-beloved son,

  Events here move on apace.

  You might feel secure in being appointed Lord Protector but there are moves afoot to end your Regency before it has even begun. The plan is to deny Edward’s will. Dorset and his mother the Queen have the ear of the Council. It is promoted that the Prince be declared adult on the occasion of his coronation, with the Council ruling in his name under his nominal control.

  And who will rule the Council? The Woodvilles, of course.

  The Prince is summoned, and certainly expected to leave when he last wrote to me, but is to my knowledge still at Ludlow and will remain there to celebrate St George’s Day. After that he will travel to London to be crowned on the fourth day of May.

  Might I make a suggestion?

  Bring your cousin the Duke of Buckingham into your sphere of influence. He might prove to be another strong ally when you face the Council in London. You will need all the friends you can get.

  I have no power in such dealings. You must take control yourself.

  Can you trust Hastings? I suppose that after all the years of friendship he will be your man, as he was the most fervent friend to Edward. You will need to be sure of your friends, or you will indeed be swept away by the spate of Rivers. All is in flux although the atmosphere in London is calm enough.

  Your affectionate mother,

  Cecily

  Richard, Duke of Gloucester, to Cecily, Dowager Duchess of York

  Written from the road to London

  Madam, in grateful thanks.

  Written in haste.

  Hastings has proved to be a good friend, and my cousin of Buckingham is worth luring from his habitual position on the edge of affairs. I am in touch with Rivers. We have agreed to meet at Northampton, from where we will travel together, a combined force, to present the Prince with much celebration in his capital. If any man should question my position, I have, in York, taken an oath of loyalty to my nephew.

  I will not allow Edward’s will and final desires on his deathbed to be rejected.

  Be strong and pray for me.

  Your dutiful son,

  Richard

  England’s Chronicle, the first day of May, 1483

  Royal coup at Stony Stratford?

  Can this be true?

  We are hearing of chilling events. Arriving every hour as our couriers ride in, from near the old Woodville manor of Stony Stratford near Northampton. A meeting had been arranged there on the twenty-ninth day of April so that the Duke of Gloucester, riding fast from the north, could accompany his nephew and Earl Rivers on the Prince’s triumphant and ceremonial entry into London.

  We would commend this decision by the Duke of Gloucester.

  So what has happened?

  Following a genial evening spent between Gloucester and Buckingham, with Rivers and Sir Richard Grey, with much ale and laughter and exchange of news, Gloucester and Buckingham rode together to Stony Stratford to meet with the Prince and his vast retinue of two thousand men. All would ride together to London on the next morning.

  Not so.

  Do we truly believe what we are hearing? Gloucester has ordered the arrest of Rivers, Grey and the Prince’s Chamberlain Sir Thomas Vaughan, accusing all three of them of causing dissention in the realm. They have been sent north to Gloucester’s lands. We do not know of their ultimate destination or what is to become of them.

  Nor do we know what evidence Gloucester had procured against them.<
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  Meanwhile, we hear that it is now Gloucester who is escorting his nephew to London. It is expected that they will arrive on the fourth day of May, which should have been the coronation day. Obviously this event must be postponed. We see nothing contentious about this development.

  What will happen next? You may well ask.

  Prince Edward is under the control of his uncle but there seems to be no duress. They ride side by side in what appears to be perfect amity. We claim all ignorance of what is in Gloucester’s mind until we receive further news. Rumour is always rife and cannot be trusted. Is the Prince helpless in Gloucester’s hands?

  Duchess Cecily is in residence at Baynard’s Castle. Perhaps she knows what her son has in mind for her grandson.

  Is any man brave enough to ask her?

  What is it that has brought her out of her self-imposed isolation at Berkhamsted?

  Elizabeth, Queen of England, to Cecily, Dowager Duchess of York

  Written from Westminster Abbey

  Madam,

  Despite all the ill-will that has existed between us in the past, I find a need to send this. It is not the first time that I have turned to you when I have foreseen danger to myself and my children. I cannot peer past these clouds into the future. I have not the gift of prediction, nor did my mother, whatever might have been said of her connection with sorcery, but I am shaken with terror.

  Once again I have fled to the sanctuary of Westminster Abbey, taking my children with me.

  What does Gloucester intend?

  Since you are here in London, I presume that you know what his strategy will be.

  I beg you to intercede for me. For my son and brother, who are imprisoned in the north, awaiting a judgement which I fear will have no justice in it. Do I have to beg on my knees for the safety of my daughters?

  In your mercy, my lady, plead for me and your son’s children. They are your blood, too. It was your son’s wish that Prince Edward would rule after him.

  If you have any influence, use it for the good of the realm. All I see is my husband’s inheritance drenched in blood. I know that you will have no desire for a return to battle and bloodshed. I demand that my son, Prince Edward, now King, be restored to me here at Westminster Abbey.