The Necromancer Part I

by Mike Voyce

  The land was green, soft and fruitful, gently undulating, with little hillocks and secret places, under tree roots which had never felt the touch of a plough. At some small distance was a river, with a mill-race and good fishing. The land hadn’t been hunted, perhaps for centuries, and wildlife was plentiful and tame. It was as unlike Cambridge as it was possible to get.

  The brothers had brought their books, and many which had not been in their own house. The palace had a large and well lit reading room, with benches, chairs and bookshelves. Here there was no need to chain the books, as there would have been in Cambridge; for all the collection, even then, might have been priceless.

  I wanted to know to what study the Bishop had set them. The work was from grimiores, as if the brothers were concocting curses. Yet these curses did not seem intended to kill, more to take away reason and judgement. I listened to the brothers talking,

  “No brother, too strong.”

  “See,” said Brother Geoffrey, as he pointed to a passage he was reading, “This causes men to forget themselves, but only in a little.”

  It seemed Morton meant to sow contention and I could easily guess where. There were wax dolls, as yet unattached to any mortal being, and other paraphernalia of ritual. It seemed the work was still in preparation, not yet in operation.

  I looked for Thomas who was nowhere to be seen; I guessed he was at work on the spells which would carry him between worlds. It would confuse him to see me now and I resisted the temptation to visit his room.

  It was time to eavesdrop on Morton.

  ***

  Chapter 12 – London and the Great Council

  Ely Palace, or Ely Place, in Holborn, London, was administered by the See of Ely and was outside the jurisdiction of the City of London. In the 1200s a little oratory had been planned, in 1290 an increasingly grand church, dedicated to Saint Etheldreda, was built and became a place of pilgrimage; that church still stands. From 1316 were added a palace, orchards, vineyards, gardens and plough-lands until the whole estate spread over an area of 58 acres. Bishops of Ely lived in some comfort.

  An 18th century plan of Ely Palace

  This was Morton’s base while he was in London, and not an entirely easy place to penetrate.

  Being ‘a fly on the wall’ is not a good image, flies do not see or hear as we do, they can’t read, or understand what they do see. I had to visit Morton in human form, but while it was one thing to eavesdrop on the brothers in Cambridge and Hatfield, I thought it quite another to eavesdrop on Morton. I feared he would detect me. If it was to be so it was to be so, I went there anyway.

  Surprisingly, I found Morton making notes. They were not to help him remember, but by drawing out his thoughts and setting them on paper he could make them clearer. By externalising his mind he gave me a way in. There is, let me call it, a trick of mediumship; if you are faced with a subject who has closed his mind to you try, as it were, going round the back, you can get into his head from behind. This is what I did with Morton, his thoughts giving a running commentary as he wrote.

  The first note read, “Prince Edward, not to be king.”

  More than the note, his thoughts said,

  “Robert Stillington will never let Edward become king, it would be unlawful. He is a man of Law and of Honour and he is obdurate. The only way for Edward to be king is for Stillington to be removed – neither Richard nor anyone else must be allowed to think of it.

  The note read simply, “The Queen.”

  “Our Lady Elizabeth is a foolish woman, she is so preoccupied with her own pride and scheming she does not see the schemes of others, she can be led by the nose by flattery and her own sense of importance. But she is right, if Edward is to be king it must be done quickly or it will never be. We are in a time of uncertainty, the longer it goes on the more our foes can be made to exhaust themselves against each other.

  I must tell my Lady Margaret to distract the Queen with schemes and fears. My Lady must have the Queen’s trust or there will be danger.

  The note read, “The Dukes”

  “Both Gloucester and Buckingham are royal and Plantagenet. If they stand apart now if one falls the other will rise, by the Grace of God out of reach. They must be seen to stand together so that one may turn against the other later; that way they both may fall.

  Richard of Gloucester has no taste to be king. He followed Edward through bastardy and temptation; he would follow into the jaws of Hell, but will run from leading. It will serve us well, he will delay long in hope against hope Stillington will change his mind.

  I shall portray Richard’s ambition privately and on all sides. Both men and women too, believe others guilty of their own sins. All shall believe poor Richard would kill to be king, the very last thing in the World he wants – I shall try to make it the last thing in the World he gets.

  Henry of Buckingham also has no taste for the Crown, he fancies he is a minister yet he is none; he cannot read men’s hearts. I must lead him into politics.

  Richard thinks he is a soldier, and he is. I must lead him into fighting for a bad cause, or not fighting at all.”

  The note read, “Earl Rivers.”

  “Anthony Woodville is the most able of all the family, he is charming, intelligent, he can fight and he is educated.

  He is imprisoned. Richard does not trust him, and nothing is needed from me.”

  The note read, “William, baron Hastings.”

  “He was with the brothers, King Edward, George of Clarence, and Richard; through good times and ill, it made them all as brothers. He is known to be loyal to the king and the Princes. Officers of the Crown will follow him whether he be in office or not. If I can bring him down it will start to make government unmanageable.

  Then again, if I can bring him down it is one less friend for the Princes, and Richard will start to see enemies everywhere.

  He shared the royal pleasures, and Edward’s former mistress. Richard never quite liked this fornication, and never took part in it, for his morality is prudish. If I can make out Mistress Shore as a witch this might bring Hastings down.”

  Morton’s thoughts were fascinating; did they cause me to let down my guard? I’d edged into Morton’s thoughts in silence and stillness, that he not guess I was there. Now a question escaped me,

  “And the Princes?”

  There was a start, I withdrew immediately, lest he recognise the thought as not his own. Even so, there had been an instant answer,

  “They’re of no account without Hastings.”

  I stayed out of Morton’s mind for a time, such proximity was unhealthy and unpleasant, and the effort was tiring.

  I did eavesdrop some of those he mentioned, but there is a good deal more in the outward events. A startling story and one which speaks greatly of Morton’s skill, that the World has been made to believe what happened was something totally different, for all these years.

  He had been planning manoeuvres which would have the Great Council at its centre and it is of the Council I must tell you.

  In his will Edward IV named his son Edward as heir to the throne and, because of Edward’s age, named his brother, Richard as ‘Protector of the Realm.’ This seems simple enough, but it hides an assumption, and an ambiguity: first that Edward’s accession would go unchallenged and second, the ambiguity, when would Richard’s right as protector end? When linked together these left Richard de facto ruler until Edward’s coronation, which he was under a duty to facilitate.

  Richard did not assume rulership, he merely accepted leadership of a Great Council, called by the Queen and others; the membership of this council does not seem ever to have been properly defined, certainly not by Richard.

  He started with possibly excessive force, arresting Rivers; it caused the Queen to take flight to sanctuary, and made those who attended the Council nervous. With Buckingham’s support he could have asserted the authority of the ‘old’ nobility and tamed any council. Hastings had advised him to bring force, anticipating h
e would do so. Of course, Richard did not impose authority, leaving the various factions to compete and quarrel.

  As to the accession, responsibility fell to Robert Stillington, the Bishop of Bath and Wells to confirm it by coronation and Richard did nothing to change this. Stillington privately made clear to the dukes, Richard and Henry; he would not crown Edward; his reasons being first the paternity of Edward IV and second the illegality of Edward IV and Elizabeth’s marriage.

  The dukes’ consternation at this was deep and profound. They had assumed he would simply do their bidding. They did their best to persuade him; in the end Stillington’s response was so forceful as to leave no more to be said,

  “I will not crown the Bastard Prince, even for the sake of the bastard father!”

  Either, or both, the dukes would have knocked him down and had him carried off in chains for saying so; except that he was a bishop, and not just any bishop. The moral force and personal authority of the Bishop of Bath and Wells were great.

  It was some time after this, only two days before the date set for the coronation, Dr Shaa gave his famous sermon; perhaps the Bishop was unready to commit himself despite his strong words. It is a pity he didn’t make his views public, it might have forestalled Tudor plotting and the abduction of the Princes, but Richard had implored him, in memory of Edward IV and for his family honour, to say nothing in public, and the Bishop had agreed.

  It is interesting to note, one of the first acts after the killing of Richard III was the arrest of Bishop Stillington; he would still less have crowned the bastard Henry Tudor, dispossessed earl of Richmond, than he would crown the bastard Edward Plantagenet, Prince of Wales.

  When Stillington challenged the accession Richard could have referred it to a Church council, hoping Thomas Bourchier would exercise control; if Bourchier failed there could then have been an appeal to the Pope, in any case, responsibility would have lain with the Church. With the Woodvilles constrained, it would have only left Hastings to be convinced by reason. In fact, Richard seems to have spent the whole of May and part of June in what a modern psychologist would call denial. The sum total of Richard’s fault was that he failed to rule, as he failed to secure the succession for his nephews; the fact is he never thought he should.

  I could understand Henry, duke of Buckingham’s disbelief and frustration!

  It all left fertile ground for Morton to nurture intrigue and suspicion.

  Morton’s second coupe was sprung on Friday, the 13th June 1483. According to Sir Thomas More, who is not always to be trusted but who in this I believe to be correct, what happened was as follows: Richard arrived at the Great Council late but in good humour, he was called away for a considerable time; coming back in a black rage he accused Hastings and others of conspiracy against him. After some violent tumult, Morton was knocked down and received a gash to his head, Hastings was arrested and taken away, charged with treason.

  Two strands went into this and a good deal of planning.

  ***

  Chapter 13 – The Conspiracy against Hastings

  Before we come to Morton’s plot we must first come to his co-conspirator and mentor, Margaret Beaufort, countess of Richmond.

  Margaret was the daughter and heiress of the disgraced Duke of Somerset, who lost by illegal tax collecting and extortion almost all that was left of Henry VI’s empire in France. He fortuitously died before he could be brought to justice, while Margaret was still very small. Somerset, in turn was heir to John Beaufort, the illegitimate son of John of Gaunt, conceived in double adultery and barred from the throne by Act of Parliament. Despite everything, all the Beauforts had been treated with outstanding generosity by the Lancastrian kings, notably Henry IV and Henry VI. Margaret had been given a choice of suitors and had chosen Edmund Tudor; Edmund’s mother was Catherine de Valois, the adulterous widow of Henry V and an heiress to the French crown, while his father was one of Catherine’s servants. The marriage of Edmund’s parents was, of course, entirely illegal.

  Contrary to law and practice Edmund made Margaret pregnant while she was still a child; she gave birth to Henry Tudor at the age of thirteen, by which time Edmund was already dead.

  The last stages of the Wars of the Roses had killed all legitimate Lancastrian claimants to the throne and Margaret developed an insane obsession that her son should become king. She sacrificed all decency, honour and human feelings to this passion, using ‘religious’ devotion to mask what must be amongst the darkest desires ever known in England. By using successive husbands and their families Margaret had given herself considerable standing and had come to be the leading Lancastrian at Court, her latest husband, Thomas Stanley, was a notable Yorkist magnate.

  There arose an unholy and long standing alliance between Morton and Margaret, with the object of overturning the English monarchy and making Henry Tudor king. It was not, of course, even suspected that this was the case, and as to why Morton should have devoted himself to this alliance you will have to wait.

  As I’d eavesdropped Morton’s thoughts, in his note making, there had been no assessment of Margaret Beaufort, but she’d been there in the background. He was confident of their alliance and that she would fulfil her part. Her part was to dupe the Queen and cause her to implicate others in indiscretions, which could then be revealed to Richard. Duping the Queen would not be difficult, but concocting a plausible and damning implication against William Hastings would be much more so.

  One other innocent needed to be made use of. Henry, duke of Buckingham was himself an heir to Edward III, his dukedom was incredibly wealthy and extensive and he had a sense of his own importance. Instead of being recognised by Edward IV he had been more or less forcibly married to the Queen’s sister, and kept out of government. The King’s reason was that Henry was not very bright or subtle, but Henry blamed his marriage for his treatment. He tried to make up for his lack of political experience by lengthy, ‘wise’ pronouncements on practically every subject in the Great Council. William Lord Hastings was intelligent, swift and subtle, it had been he who forestalled a Woodville take-over before Richard reached London, and by June it had become impossible for him to hide his irritation at Henry’s ponderousness. The Duke reacted in hurt and offence.

  Nothing had changed in Hastings’ mind since he, Richard, George and Edward IV rebuked the Woodvilles as ‘popinjays.’ In particular he had fractious and contentious relations with Elizabeth throughout her marriage to Edward. Even so, when Warwick rebelled over it, Hastings had gone into exile with Edward and the others.

  If Hastings had a fault it was his openness and easiness. The Queen was so horrified at all that happened, so terrified that Richard would take over the kingdom and usurp her son, Hastings saw no reason not to give her reassurance. As he knew Richard as a friend, there was no possibility of this, and he told her so.

  Hastings actually had written to the Queen,

  “…if the Duke should prove a tyrant he would be removed.”

  He thought he was writing about an impossibility; even so, perhaps they were unwise words, they had been suggested to him.

  What Hastings did not know was that Margaret Beaufort had established a secret correspondence with Queen Elizabeth through their shared physician. Margaret had created the fears Hastings tried to still, suggesting Richard would kill her sons, her brother, and take the Crown for himself. She had done it cleverly, using Morton’s tactic of putting ideas into the Queen’s head; Elizabeth had been too distraught and unperceptive to notice.

  Margaret’s next suggestion was that the situation was so desperate there was only one solution, an armed rising to take and kill Richard. She suggested Woodville forces could do it, with the co-operation of William, Lord Hastings. She suggested that William felt put out of place by Buckingham, that he was consumed with jealousy. Elizabeth believed it, and wrote back to Margaret Beaufort as if all this was so, she even sent Hastings letter of reassurance, suggesting Hastings had already joined the conspiracy.

&n
bsp; Margaret went to see the Duke of Buckingham, giving him a confection of letters, the most damning, to support a web of lies she spun for him. She did so for “the kinship between us,” she had been married to the Duke’s uncle, Sir Henry Stafford, and “for your great importance to Richard, duke of Gloucester.” To strengthen the letters was an absurd plot, implicating Bishop Morton. It seemed that Hastings was going to replace the guard at the Council’s meeting on 13th June and arrest Richard there and then. There would be a signal from Hastings to Morton, “might I have some of the strawberries from your garden.” Morton was to leave the room, ostensibly to order the strawberries but in fact to check Hastings’ soldiers were in place.

  Buckingham was easily duped, asking no pertinent questions, and not knowing the absurdity and improbability of a conspiracy between Hastings and Elizabeth Woodville. He rushed to lay it all before Richard, claiming only that it came from his own spies rather than Margaret Beaufort.

  Richard was not so easily taken in. He could afford to wait and see, simply making sure that the guard of the Great Council would be his own men, not replaced by Hastings.

  This was the first strand of the conspiracy.

  The second was this,

  Morton went privately, the next day, to see Richard.

  The Bishop presented himself with the dissembling of a subdued and repentant man.

  “Your Grace, I hardly know how to say what I must tell you.

  You know I am concerned that my brother bishop, Robert Stillington, opposes the accession of your nephew, Prince Edward. I must tell you my lord Hastings petitioned my aid to hasten his crowning, fearing it is being delayed at Your Grace’s behest by the Great Council.

  He asked my assistance to give him a certain signal that his men might arrest Your Grace and keep you in confinement until the Prince be crowned and your power be ended. I confess such Worldly action troubled me but I assented.

  I repent it bitterly, but now I must reveal a terrible thing, anathema to the Church and a grave charge against Lord Hastings, which makes it impossible I serve him further.