by Paul Doherty
‘Yes, yes I have, and I’ve also heard rumours about York and his proud, vain wife. She was a woman I stayed well clear of, her tempers were notorious. She could lash with her tongue as well as with a cane, or anything else she could lay her hands on.’
‘The passionate arguments between Duke Richard and his wife,’ Bray agreed, ‘were well known. They say Clarence inherited his mother’s vile temper and arrogance. Again, Edward of York is markedly different in character from both his parents and Clarence. Richard of Gloucester is a much more difficult character to read. Yet I must be honest. Edward, free of the malicious advice and the evil counsel of his henchmen, can be merciful, humorous and, on occasion, even magnanimous. Qualities,’ Bray added bitterly, ‘neither of his parents possessed.’
‘Now I admit,’ Urswicke tapped the book of hours, ‘rumour often walks hand in hand with the most lurid scandal when it comes to the great ones of the land, be it bishop, lord or prince. The House of York is no different from that of Lancaster, where similar scandals lurk. Indeed the gossipers claim the late Prince Edward was not the son of the saintly Henry, God rest them both, but the offspring of De La Pole or some other favourite of the Angevin queen. Such stories of illegitimacy did nothing to enhance that prince or his mother. As you know, she was dismissed as a French whore and her only son a bastard. Indeed, when the late King Henry heard how his wife had conceived, he openly mocked the news, saying it was the work of the Holy Spirit, for he had certainly not lain with her.’
‘I agree,’ Margaret declared. ‘The Beauforts also have their dark corners, and the gossipers have made great play of this affair and that. But chatter is one thing, proof is another.’
‘True. And so we come to the second part of the “Titulus Regius” – the marriage of Edward of York to Elizabeth Woodville. Now, as you know, at the time of their secret marriage, Neville Earl of Warwick was King Edward’s chief minister and plenipotentiary. Warwick wanted our Yorkist King to marry some foreign princess such as Bona of Savoy. Edward thought differently. He met and fell in love with the widow Elizabeth Woodville, a passionate, secret affair which, because of its passion, did not remain secret for long. The Woodvilles were, and still are, regarded as upstarts: petty-shire nobility with no right to be at court. They are grasping, avaricious and ruthless. Elizabeth looks as if butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth, but many at court regard her as officious, a vindictive vixen who has ensnared Edward of York with her coy ways and bedchamber skills. Edward was, and still is, besotted with her. He may frequent the likes of Jane Shore and others, but Elizabeth always draws him back. Now, when Edward’s mother, the Duchess of York, learnt that her son had secretly married “The Woodville widow”, as she was then called, Duchess Cecily fell into such a frenzy. She ranted and raved. She even offered to submit in open court how her son Edward was not the offspring of Richard Duke of York but was conceived in adultery: illegitimate and therefore not worthy of the honour of kingship.’
‘In God’s name,’ Margaret interrupted, ‘and she said that?’
‘Ah,’ Christopher smiled, ‘worse is to come. Duchess Cecily’s hatred for the Woodvilles is public and very well known. However, a greater secret lurks beneath the surface, a rumour which is much more dangerous …’
‘Which is?’ Bray demanded.
‘That Edward of York’s marriage to Elizabeth Woodville is invalid.’
‘What?’ Margaret and Bray chorused.
‘Edward’s lust for older women is clear to everyone. He has from his early youth always had a penchant for the more mature ladies of his court. Now the Three Kings investigated this and uncovered a great secret: namely, that at the time of his marriage to Woodville, Edward was secretly committed by troth-plight to the Lady Eleanor Butler, widow of Sir Thomas Butler. Eleanor was the daughter of the redoubtable warrior, Talbot Earl of Shrewsbury. Eleanor died some years ago but she was very much alive when Edward married Elizabeth Woodville.’
‘And the source of all this?’ Margaret’s voice was hoarse.
‘Well, it is not mere gossip. This is a secret cherished by our present Lord Chancellor, appointed so by Edward himself.’
‘In God’s name, Robert Stillington, Bishop of Bath and Wells?’
‘The same,’ Urswicke agreed, and quickly gave both the countess and Bray all he had learnt from Brother Joachim, the last remaining Barnabite. He explained how Stillington’s name on the inside of the front cover of each copy of the book of hours was a clue to this, though in the text both he and Joachim were simply described as ‘Presbyteri – Priests.’ Urswicke also described how he himself had stumbled on this when he’d studied the different licences given by Stillington time and again to Brother Cuthbert and his companions.
‘Now.’ Urswicke took a deep drink from the tankard of ale. ‘There is no doubt that the Three Kings and Oudenarde acquired this knowledge. I doubt if they handed it over to Clarence but they certainly intended to. What we do know is that Stillington and that hedge priest Joachim witnessed the betrothal between Edward of York and Eleanor Butler. Such a holy vow is, according to canon law, valid and supported with the full force of church law. Edward of York was already affianced to someone else when he exchanged vows at the church door with the Woodville widow. Consequently such an exchange was not legal, and can never be so.’
‘Saints be my witness,’ Margaret breathed, ‘the heirs of such a union are illegitimate and cannot succeed to the throne. If Clarence fully grasps this, he will argue that his nephews are bastards and therefore, by the law of succession, he is the next rightful King of England.’ Margaret fell silent, staring down at the table top. She lifted her head. ‘Do you think Clarence knows the full revelation?’
‘No, Mistress, I do not. The Three Kings were extremely diligent and very cunning. Their discoveries and their secret writing were their preserve. They kept the full content of the “Titulus Regius” to themselves. They probably promised Clarence and Mauclerc a finished document, something which would delight them. They might make allusions, hint and whet their master’s appetites, but not provide full disclosure. Eventually they would lead Clarence to the glorious conclusion of their work, which would win the Three Kings and Oudenarde even greater favours for the lord they served.’ Urswicke paused. ‘They collected the evidence. They searched out and brought into that chancery room individuals who might attest to what they wrote.’
‘Such as?’ Bray asked.
‘Oh, former minions of the different Yorkist households; those who had served Duke Richard, his wife Cecily and their children, men and women, mere scullions who might provide juicy scandal. All servants like to gossip about their masters.’
‘Yes, yes, I know what you are going to say,’ Margaret interrupted. ‘Richard and Cecily of York would not be the easiest lords to serve. Cecily in particular would make her presence felt; she’d cruelly punish those who disobeyed or failed her. The Three Kings would have a great deal to harvest.’
‘And that’s why the Barnabites were brought in. They would sift the wheat from the chaff. They would look for individuals who could substantiate their story and reject those who indulged in fanciful tales. They would do this quietly, secretly, and fear no reprisals.’
‘Yes, yes. To cast aspersions on the King’s legitimacy could be construed as treason!’
‘Of course,’ Urswicke agreed, ‘Brother Cuthbert and his ruffians would tell all those they questioned not to repeat their conversation or they might find themselves indicted. He and his fellow mercenaries would select those they wanted and bring them to The Sunne in Splendour. They probobly came from far afield as well as the shires: Normandy, Hainault and Flanders; countries where Richard and Cecily of York stayed during their different sojourns abroad. Others, such as Stillington, would be warned to cooperate or face the consequences. After all, what could Stillington do? If he confessed, then both Church and Crown would turn on him, so he remained silent.’
‘And what happened to the others?’
Urs
wicke crossed himself. ‘My Lady, I went out to St Vedast where the Barnabites sheltered. They were nothing more than a group of ruthless, foreign mercenaries who hid beneath the guise of being members of some obscure order of friars. They were murderers, assassins. I visited the Godforsaken, dismal cemetery near that church. I believe that the lesser people, mere minions to the likes of Mauclerc, were silenced for good. Once they had given their evidence, these unfortunates were deceived into going to receive their reward, only to be brutally murdered and their corpses hurriedly buried in that desolate graveyard.’
‘Of course,’ Bray declared, ‘lest they take their story or their meeting with the Three Kings to any other interested party.’
‘Precisely,’ Urswicke retorted. Urswicke crossed his arms and stared up at the ceiling.
‘Christopher?’
‘Further mischief, Mistress. The Three Kings were unable to finish their task but they were very close to it. I believe they were to propose one final masque which, if Clarence was arrogant and stupid enough to implement, and I think he is, would have caused a grievous rift between himself and his two brothers. Indeed I do wonder if the Three Kings and Oudenarde were intent on serving two masters?’
‘Who?’
‘Well, if they had revealed what they had found and written up in the “Titulus Regius” to someone like Richard of Gloucester, they could expect even greater reward. I just wonder why they kept two copies, one in the Secret Chancery chamber, the other at St Vedast?’ Urswicke shrugged. ‘Of course two copies meant they had a guarantee that their work would never be lost. The Three Kings certainly brewed a pot of mischief. Anyway, I came across a final proposal hidden deep in the text. As you know, Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick – the self-styled King-maker – was killed at Barnet. He left no male heir, only two daughters, Isobel and Anne. Clarence, like a hog at its trough, married Isobel so as to seize the Neville inheritance. Richard of Gloucester, or so rumour has it, intends to marry Anne and, of course, demand that half the Neville patrimony be given to him …’
‘Clarence would fight.’
‘Of course, Reginald. So the Three Kings recommended that Anne Neville should disappear.’
‘Disappear?’
‘Yes, my Lady. Be abducted by Clarence’s retainers, hidden away in some nunnery or even a tavern here in London. It might take months, even years to find out where she was, and who would really search for her? Richard of Gloucester? Clarence would hamper that. It would be like searching for a needle in a haystack. People would whisper that Anne Neville had been abducted, murdered or, out of sheer grief, killed herself. If she cannot present herself in court to claim her rights, then those rights must go to the last surviving member of her family, namely Isobel, Clarence’s wife.’
‘A witch’s brew indeed,’ Margaret declared. ‘The stuff of civil war, the long, encroaching shadow of Cain against Abel, brother fighting brother.’ She glanced at Urswicke. ‘And so hangs your tale.’
‘And so hangs my tale, Mistress.’
‘You did well.’ She leaned over and stroked Urswicke’s face. ‘You did so well against truly deadly adversaries.’
‘And the “Titulus Regius”?’ Bray demanded, pointing at the richly embroidered calfskin tomes.
‘Oh very clever.’ Urswicke took one of the book of hours, placed it on the table before him and opened it. He pointed to the inside of the front cover and the ‘Teste Me’ of Stillington. ‘You know the reason for that; I will not share such knowledge with anyone else. Anyway, look at this tome. See how it is made up of different chapters or sections, all self-contained. The spine of the book is tough, hard leather, the best you can buy, reinforced with strips which will keep it firm. Observe.’ He turned the book so they could clearly see the spine and he tapped it. ‘This contains the chapters which are expertly sewn together with twine; these are placed within the spine which is broad enough to accept them. We are all skilled in matters of the chancery: this is the work of experienced craftsmen, the Three Kings and their fellow countryman, Oudenarde the parchment-seller. He fashioned this tome, its pages and the spine. He would then seal them using suitable twine and carefully binding. I suspect each of the Three Kings took responsibility for one of the secret scandals involving the House of York which I have already described to you. Now I have done so in brief, summarising what is written here, but the Three Kings carefully copied out their hidden narrative. Ostensibly they were transcribing the contents of an ordinary book of hours, yet they used this to hide their secret chronicle. Every so often they would change the colour of ink from black to red or from green to blue and so on. By themselves these verses mean nothing, but start running them together according to colour and they tell a tale to catch the heart and startle the mind. For example, all they had to do regarding the incident involving Stillington and Brother Joachim was to find the words ‘priests’, ‘marriage oath’, ‘betrothal’, ‘witness’, and so on. These, along with other phrases, when put together describe, in detail, the stories of Eleanor Butler and Elizabeth Woodville.’
‘But they are not named?’ Margaret asked.
‘Of course not. Like Stillington’s, their identity is hidden beneath the phrases “first betrothed” and “second betrothed”. Edward of York is simply described as a “Prince of the White Rose”. Again, such a phrase is broken up and scattered throughout the manuscript.’ Urswicke paused and leafed through the book of hours. ‘A most significant example is the story about David lusting after Bathsheba and arranging for that woman’s husband to be killed in battle. The verse I found, when it’s assembled together according to colour, reads as follows: “And the captain of archers lay with the duke’s wife and she conceived a son, their eldest.” This verse is made up of phrases all written in black on a page where the rest of the writing is in blue, and so it goes on: a secret chronicle describing the scandals of the House of York lies hidden away in this book of hours. Now,’ Urswicke shrugged, ‘I concede many of the witnesses to such an account are dead, but the four most powerful are not.’
‘Four?’ Bray queried.
‘Stillington, the two Barnabites, especially Brother Joachim.’
‘And the fourth is Edward of York,’ Margaret declared.
‘In truth he is,’ Urswicke agreed. ‘And that is something we should concentrate on. Edward of York knows exactly what happened. He must be fearful for himself, his wife and any possible heir. If Clarence seizes this information and uses it, I doubt if his royal brother will show any mercy. Anyway, Brother Joachim is now wandering the countryside; indeed, he may probably be abroad. Stories about scandals in the House of York will begin to seep through, the usual whispers and chatter, but the seed has been sown. God knows what harvest it will bring.’ Urswicke paused and sat staring at the countess, who was lost in her own deep thoughts.
‘Mistress?’ Bray demanded.
‘Time passes on,’ she replied in a half-whisper. ‘Margaret of Anjou and her son had to go into the dark.’ She glanced sharply at Urswicke. ‘Your intervention at Tewkesbury was crucial. Somerset’s suspicions about Wenlock and his execution of that lord may have turned the tide against the Angevin. Poor woman! Jasper Tudor, I know, would not have been waiting for her across the Severn; she could expect little help from him. At my request, he had dismissed his levies and been given one task and one task only, to spirit his nephew out of this kingdom. The Angevin and her son could have fled abroad but that would have meant more war, more agitation and yet, I know here,’ Margaret struck her breast, ‘how the Angevin and her son would never have been accepted in this kingdom. Our saintly King Henry, as expected, did not survive a month after Tewkesbury. Poor man, he has gone to his rightful place amongst the saints.’ Margaret paused. ‘Only my son,’ she added fiercely, ‘now sheltering under the protection of Duke Francis, will become the standard around which the rest will rally. Nobles such as De Vere of Oxford.’ She smiled thinly, ‘I have also been busy elsewhere. John Morton, a leading figure at Westminster, is one
of us, and he will draw others in. We must not fritter away our time or wealth on feckless uprisings or surprise landings along some neglected stretch of coastline. Time will pass. Henry will grow older: come the moment, come the prince, and we must prepare for that. Now Christopher,’ she leaned across and grasped his hand, ‘what are your sharp wits plotting? Moving like the swiftest greyhound to keep its quarry under eye? In a word, how will you present all of this to that demon-incarnate Clarence?’
‘Mistress, I hear what you say.’ Urswicke gripped the countess’s hands and kissed her fingertips.
‘And yet what, Christopher?’
‘The game is stacked strongly against us. Edward of York is triumphant. He has a fertile wife who will provide a brood of children and present him with an heir. Edward also has two brothers who would fight to the death for their inheritance. What real chance do we have?’ He let go of the countess’s hand. ‘Please don’t doubt my fealty or my passion, but what chance do we really have?’
‘We have Christ’s own words, Christopher, and I believe them. A house divided against itself cannot stand. A house built on sand will not survive the coming storms and tempests. Such prophecies accurately describe the House of York, and I intend to prove such predictions are correct in all their details. Now, as for Clarence …?’
PART SIX