Jean Plaidy - The Sun in Splendour

There in the precincts of the Tower the son of Richard and Anne was formally created Prince of Wales, and the next day the coronation took place.

It had been short notice but as a great many preparations had been made for the coronation of Edward the Fifth it had been possible to make use of this. A coronation and its festivities would not have to change because the King to be crowned was not the same one for whom all the pomp had been originally created.

The Duke of Buckingham carried Richard’s train while the Duke of Norfolk bore his crown before him. Then came the Queen with the Earl of Huntingdon bearing her sceptre and Viscount Lisle the rod with the dove while the honour of carrying her crown was assigned to the Earl of Wiltshire.

Anne, splendidly clad, weighed down with jewels, felt tired before the ceremony had begun. Walking under a canopy, to each corner of which had been attached a golden bell which tinkled as they moved, she hoped that she did not show how she was longing for it all to be over. But it had only just begun. The anointing had to take place and afterwards the crowning. ‘God Save the King. God Save the Queen.’

The cries rang out clearly and Richard was straining his ears to hear one dissenting voice. There was none.

Afterwards they dined in Westminster Hall, Anne and Richard seated on a dais overlooking the rest of the guests at their tables while the Lord Mayor himself served the King and Queen with sweet wine as a sign of the capital’s desire to do homage to them.

When the champion of England rode into the hall and challenged any to combat who did not agree that Richard was the rightful King, Anne was aware of her husband’s tension; and when there was not a single voice raised against him, she was aware of his sinking back into his seat with an overwhelming relief; and she hoped that had silenced his fears for ever. The people had chosen him. The people wanted him. He was the rightful King; and he must stop thinking of those little boys in the Garden Tower. Their claim to the throne was null and void. The rightful King was at last crowned.

Darkness fell and the torches were brought in and one by one the nobles and their ladies came to the dais to pay homage to the King and Queen.

And when that ceremony was over they could retire to their apartments and make their preparations to depart for Windsor where they would go when the festivities were over.

Richard was already planning a tour of the country. They would go to the North. He had no fear of what his reception would be there. The North was his country. He had served it well and they were with him to a man.

The Duke of Buckingham was displeased. The excitement which he so enjoyed had abated considerably. Richard was King and he had been accepted by a docile people. Secretly Buckingham had been hoping for trouble. He revelled in trouble. He found life dull without it.

Moreover Richard had angered him. It was over the matter of the Bohun estates. These had come to the crown on the marriage of Mary de Bohun and Henry the Fourth and now that he was Lord High Constable of England, which was the ancient hereditary office of the de Bohuns, he believed he had a right to the estates.

Instead of enthusiastically agreeing to this, Richard had demurred; and that angered Buckingham. He looked upon himself as a Warwick, a Kingmaker. Who had suggested that Richard should claim the throne? Who had made the announcement at Paul’s Cross and whose men had shouted for Richard at the Guildhall? The answer to that was Buckingham’s, and Richard it seemed, now he had achieved the goal, was ungrateful and was reminding him that he was King. Richard would do well to remember his old friends. In a fit of pique Buckingham left Court and decided to go for a while to his Castle Brecknock on the borders of Wales and which had come to him with his post of High Constable of England. He was looking forward to having conversation with a most interesting guest ... well hardly a guest, a captive in fact.

He was thinking of John Morton the Bishop of Ely who had been arrested at the same time as Hastings during that fateful meeting in the Tower. Morton with Rotherham had been confined for a while in the Tower and being interested in the man – for they had love of plotting in common – Buckingham had asked Richard if he might take care of Morton. The Bishop could not stay all the time a prisoner in the Tower and his rank as churchman demanded that certain respect be shown to him, so Richard agreed that Buckingham might make him a sort of honoured captive in his castle of Brecknock.

This Buckingham had done and had become on good terms with the Bishop. He enjoyed his conversation. Morton was a clever man – shrewd and devious, and as such he appealed to Buckingham.

That he was at heart a Lancastrian, the Duke knew; he also knew that he was not averse to changing sides when expediency demanded it, but he would be pleased of course to put forward the side he really supported while he tried to live amicably with its enemies.

In spite of this he had been one of the last King’s chief advisers; he had helped to arrange the treaty of Picquigny which had brought such good fortune to England at the expense of the French; he had negotiated for the ransom the King of France had paid for Margaret of Anjou. Edward had thought highly of him. Of course Edward had a habit of believing the best of everyone until their perfidy was proved. Morton had gone from strength to strength until the meeting in the Tower.

That his head was full of plans, Buckingham had no doubt, and that they were not for the good of Richard the Third he was certain.

That suited him in his present mood, and so he was looking forward to seeing the Bishop at Brecknock.

When he arrived he went to the Bishop and greeted him warmly, asking if he lacked anything he needed for his comfort.

‘The captive has nothing of which to complain,’ the Bishop told him.

‘You must not think of yourself as a prisoner, Bishop.’

‘My lord Duke, you are kind. But what else am I?’

‘A friend I hope.’

‘I doubt a friend of Richard of Gloucester would be a friend of mine.’

Buckingham sent for wine and they drank together. The wine was good and warming and Buckingham enjoyed his wine.

The Bishop watched him closely. He knew that something had happened between the two who had been so close together. Buckingham had been Richard’s first man. Now what? Morton asked himself. He felt gleeful. He summed up Buckingham – feckless, unreliable, friend today and enemy tomorrow. He was surprised Richard had put so much faith in him.

Morton had not been idle during his captivity. He had been making plans. He was going to stir up trouble for Richard of Gloucester and he felt he knew how to do it. It was not that he wanted to support the Woodvilles although he might have to make a pretence of doing so. That was not important; he was rather good at making a pretence. He had his eyes on someone over the seas, someone who could be said to belong to the House of Lancaster. Morton would like to see the red rose win the final triumph over the white. A great excitement gripped him as he wondered how he could use this rift which had clearly sprung up between Buckingham and Gloucester. Gloucester was a strong man; it would not be easy to fault him; but Buckingham was weak and vain; he was over-excitable and impulsive, and could not see very far ahead. He was the ideal dupe.

Buckingham had turned to the Bishop.

‘I have been a good friend to Gloucester,’ boasted Buckingham. ‘I have put him on the throne.’

‘That is so,’ agreed Morton. Flattery was what the Duke wanted. That was easy. ‘But for your good services methinks we should not have this King set above us.’

‘I put him up ... I could put him down.’

‘There may be something in that, my lord.’

‘He has a claim to the throne it is true.’

‘When he declares his brother’s children bastards, yes.’

The two men surveyed each other. Did they want to put Edward the Fifth back on the throne?

Morton knew that was not the aim of the ambitious Duke. Nor was it his.

As soon as he realised that Richard was aware of his infidelity to him he had begun to plot. And he was in touch with a very resourceful lady who was very clever and had had one idea in her head since the death of Edward when it had become clear that there was going to be considerable conflict while a boy king reigned.

This was Margaret Beaufort, Countess of Richmond, whose third husband was Lord Stanley. But Margaret’s first marriage had been to Edmund Tudor and the result of that marriage was her son, Henry Tudor, and it was on this son that Margaret’s hopes were fixed.

Margaret’s ambitious plan was to make him King of England. That he was worthy, she insisted. His grandfather was Owen who had married Katherine widow of Henry the Fifth, and his mother Margaret Beaufort was the daughter of the first Duke of Somerset, John Beaufort, who was the son of another John Beaufort who himself was the son of John of Gaunt and Catherine Swynford. Margaret insisted that her son Henry Tudor had royal blood from both sides and if there were questions of his legitimacy on both sides she would brush that aside. The Beauforts had been legitimised by Henry the Fourth; and she insisted that Katherine of Valois had married Owen Tudor.

In Margaret’s eyes Henry Tudor had a claim to the throne.

Morton was interested in the idea. If Henry Tudor became King he would bring back the House of Lancaster. It would be the triumph of the red rose over the white – and possibly the final victory.

Richard stood in the way.

Morton had been in touch with Margaret Beaufort. She had not been idle. She was busily sounding possible recruits to her cause. That was how she had come into contact with Morton. She was married to Lord Stanley who would it seemed likely be ready to change sides at the vital moment. He had always had an eye to the main chance and he was clever enough to have ingratiated himself with Richard – until of course that fateful council in the Tower when he had been arrested. But he had quickly been released being able to give a plausible account of his activities, and was now back in the Council.

Well, he was Margaret’s husband and presumably she must know that he could be relied upon when the time came. In the meantime it was useful to have him appear to be Richard’s friend.

This was the plot into which Morton hoped to lure Buckingham but he could see that the noble Duke had ideas of his own.

He would have to go carefully, but he did not anticipate a great deal of trouble from the emotional Duke. His support would be the greatest help. The whole country would be aghast if Buckingham, who had done so much to put Richard on the throne, were openly to turn against him.

‘It would seem,’ went on Morton, ‘that my lord has regrets at the turn of events.’

‘I begin to think the country has acted with some haste in offering Richard the crown.’

The country! Morton was secretly amused. Wasn’t it Buckingham who had done that? But for that meeting in the Guildhall and the applause of his men which they had clearly been ordered to give, would Richard have taken the crown?

‘It is only when a man comes to power that he emerges as himself.’

‘’Tis true, my lord. But you had a foresight, eh, at the Tower that day.’

‘I did, my lord. When Hastings, his friend, lost his head ... without trial ...’

‘It was shameful. And Rivers and Grey.’

‘He is a tyrant.’

‘I agree.’

‘My lord, could something be done about it?’

Buckingham’s eyes gleamed. ‘There are others with equal claims to the throne.’

He was preening himself. Already trying on the crown. This would need care, thought Morton.

He wanted Buckingham’s help to further Henry Tudor but how could he get that when the conceited Duke saw himself as a contender for the throne?

‘You know of my royal descent?’ said the Duke.

‘I do, my lord.’

‘The Woodville children are disqualified on account of their bastardy. If Richard were dethroned ... well then.’

He was smiling and Morton smiled too.

God forbid, he thought, but he pretended to be excited and he allowed a new but subtle deference to creep into his manner when he looked at and spoke to the Duke.