Jean Plaidy - The Sun in Splendour

There was a big price on his head. If he fell into Richard’s hands there would be no mercy. He could not expect that. Therefore he must escape.

Perhaps he could get across the Channel and join Henry Tudor. Then they could plot together and come back in triumph.

One of his retainers, Ralph Bannister, who had a house near the town of Wem, took him in and Buckingham stayed for a few days at his mansion of Lacon Park.

Everyone was talking about the débâcle and the price on the Duke of Buckingham’s head. It was a large price for Richard was very eager to get the traitor into his hands.

For a day or so Bannister resisted the temptation but after a while it became too much for him. He advised Buckingham to leave his house and showed him a hut where he could stay for a while until he could make good his escape. But no sooner was Buckingham in the hut than he was arrested and taken to Salisbury by the Sheriff of Shropshire.

He asked to see the King. He wanted to talk to him. He confessed that he had been a foolish traitor. He had wronged the King who had been his friend. But if he could but see the King, if he could talk to him, if he could explain ...

It was no use. He could hardly expect Richard to see him in the circumstances for never had a man more blatantly played the traitor.

It was the second of November, a dark day and a Sunday, when Buckingham was taken out to the market-place and there laid his head on the block.

The insurrection was over. Henry Tudor had not landed. Of the fifteen ships which the Duke of Brittany had given him all but two had been destroyed by storm. He had come close to the coast with those two but seeing the soldiers on land had thought it wiser to return and try another time.

Richard was triumphant, but he had received a warning.

Another matter which had deeply disturbed him was the rumour of the death of the Princes and that he was named as their murderer. Of what purpose would their death serve? They were no menace to him. He was the true King. The bastard sons of his brother did not threaten his position.

The only way in which they could do so would be if they were his brother’s legitimate sons. And if they had been it would never have occurred to him to take the throne. He would have remained as Protector of the Realm and guardian of the little King until he was of age to govern.

It was a disturbing rumour. Did it mean that there was a plot afoot to murder the Princes and lay the blame at his door? It was a feasible plan, the logic behind which became clear to him when he heard that in the Cathedral at Rennes Henry Tudor had sworn to marry Elizabeth of York and thus unite the houses of York and Lancaster.

He thought a great deal about the matter and the more he thought the more certain it seemed to him that some harm was planned for the Princes. They were in the Garden Tower at the moment and his very good friend Sir Robert Brackenbury was the Constable.

He decided he would warn him to guard the Princes well, and he summoned to him his Master of Henchmen Sir James Tyrell. He told him that he wished him to take a letter to the Constable of the Tower and that he should prepare himself to leave at once.

Richard then wrote the letter in which he asked Sir Robert to guard the Princes well. He feared for their safety. He thought it would be a good idea if they were removed from their present lodging and put into a secret one until such time as it would be safe for them to emerge.

He would explain his fears to Sir Robert sometime when they were together. For the present he knew he was his very good friend and could trust him.

The year passed uneasily. Richard was aware that the Bishop of Ely was one of his greatest enemies and he heartily repented putting him in Buckingham’s care. After the débâcle Morton had escaped to Flanders and now had probably joined Henry Tudor.

It was difficult to govern as he would have wished with so much to deter him. How lucky Edward had been to have the people with him. After the defection of Buckingham Richard felt he could never trust anyone again.

He wished that everyone would forget their grievances, that they would try to work with him for a prosperous state. He was sorry that Elizabeth Woodville remained in Sanctuary. He wanted her to come forth – she and her daughters.

He sent word to her telling her that if she came out no harm should befall her.

Elizabeth was wary. She could not forget that her brother Anthony and her son Richard had been beheaded at Richard’s orders. He had answered that they had deserved their fate and they would have had his head if events had gone the other way. It was no use going over the past. That was done with. She had five daughters; she should think of their future.

He did not remind her that she had a son, the Marquess of Dorset, who was now on the Continent with Henry Tudor.

A letter was delivered to her in Sanctuary which Richard had written himself.

‘I swear,’ he wrote, ‘that if the daughters of Elizabeth Grey, late calling herself Queen of England, will come to me out of Sanctuary and be guided and ruled by me I shall see that they shall be in surety of their lives and that as they are my kinswomen, being the undoubted daughters of my brother, I will arrange worthy marriages for them ...’

He also offered to pay an annual pension to Elizabeth herself.

Elizabeth considered the offer. He could hardly dishonour it, she said. And she was anxious about her daughters.

On a bleak March day she emerged from Sanctuary and decided that she must accept the offer and rely on the mercy of the King.

During that month Richard left London for Northampton. It seemed certain now that Henry Tudor would make another attack with the coming of better weather. Richard must be prepared. Until Henry Tudor was dead there would be no peace for him, he realised. Henry Tudor wanted the throne and he was going to do everything he could to gain it. Moreover there were many who would help him in this endeavour. Richard was surrounded by people whom common sense forced him to doubt.

Norfolk, Lovell, Ratcliffe, Catesby, Brackenbury ... those he believed he could trust with his life. But there were others who filled him with doubt. The conduct of Buckingham and Hastings had made him distrustful, suspicious of everyone.

He longed for peace. He was a born administrator. He wanted to encourage trading as Edward had. That was the sure way to prosperity. A country wasted its substance in war.

There were other anxieties. Anne’s health was failing. She was so easily tired. He was worried about his son too. Anne had sent him back to Middleham because she thought it was better for him to be there. Her thoughts went with him though, and although she made a great effort to accompany Richard and smile at the people and appear to be merry he was aware of what a great effort it was and how very tired she felt.

They were halfway through April when the messenger came from the North. He was brought immediately to the King and Richard knew at once that the news was bad.

‘Have no fear,’ he said. ‘Tell me quickly.’

‘My lord, it is the Prince.’

‘He is ill ...’

The man looked at him silently.

Richard turned away to hide his emotion. ‘He is dead,’ he said slowly. ‘My son is dead.’

‘My lord, I fear ... it is so.’

‘I will tell the Queen,’ said the King; he waved his hand in dismissal and the messenger glad to escape hurriedly left.

Anne valiantly tried to suppress her desolation. It was impossible. For a time she gave up all pretence that she was well. She sank to her knees and covered her face with her hands.

He tried to comfort her, but there was no comfort. This delicate boy, whom they had loved even more tenderly because they had suffered constant fear for him, was lost to them.

He had suffered from the same disease which had afflicted both Warwick’s daughters, and meant that they could not hope for any but a brief life span.

They had cherished him – their Prince of Wales, their heir to England ... and now he was gone.

And looking at Anne, so desolate in her grief, Richard wondered how soon it would be before he was mourning his wife.

The future was grim. The Scots were giving trouble on the border now that Richard was no longer there to keep them in check. The King of France was showing friendship to Henry Tudor. Richard knew he must get his hands on that man. If he could capture him and bring him to England, get rid of him, then they might settle to peace. He sent men to Brittany to capture Henry Tudor, but Morton had his spies in England. Among them was Rotherham who was able to inform Morton of what was planned. Morton then warned Henry Tudor in time so that he escaped into France. Morton was a dangerous enemy. Richard knew that now and cursed himself for not destroying him when he was in his hands. He was far more dangerous than Hastings would ever have been.

He was indeed more dangerous than Richard knew. He had heard of Richard’s instructions to Brackenbury and thought that if everything went according to plan that act might be of considerable use to him.

Morton had staked his future now on Henry Tudor’s victory and if he could bring about the marriage between Elizabeth of York and Henry Tudor he would be delighted with his plans. If that marriage ever came about and it was to be effective those little Princes would have to be disposed of. So they had been kept out of the way at Richard’s request. Well, that might be useful. It would give credence to the story that they were already dead. He was sorry that Elizabeth Woodville had come out of Sanctuary with her daughters. That was unfortunate on two counts. First if she had believed that Richard had murdered the Princes – her little sons of whom she was so fond, for whatever else she was she was a devoted mother – she would never have put her daughters in his hands. Another fear – and perhaps an even greater one – was that Richard might find husbands for the girls. Then the marriage between Elizabeth and Henry Tudor could not take place and would the people accept Henry Tudor if by doing so they were not going to unite the houses of York and Lancaster?

We need to move fast, thought Morton. And yet how could they? They must be absolutely sure of success when they came in.

The weary year was passing. Henry Tudor had made no attempt to land. Clearly he was not ready.

Richard guessed there were traitors all about him. One morning there was discovered on the door of St Paul’s a rhyme which could only spell treachery:

It was a criticism of the King and ran:

‘The Cat, the Rat, and Lovell our dog

Rule all England under a hog.’

The Cat was Catesby, the Rat Ratcliffe and Lovell – a name frequently used for dogs – was Francis Lovell – all faithful friends. And the hog was himself taken from the sign of the Boar on his staff.

The rhyme was traced to William Colynbourne who had been an officer in the household of the Duchess of York. Richard was deeply wounded not only by the criticism of his rule but because this man had been one of his family’s servants. Colynbourne had committed a greater sin than writing seditious doggerel verse. He was found guilty of sending messages to Henry Tudor giving the state of the defences of England.

He was accorded the traitor’s death and suffered cruelly on Tower Hill.

One urgent need was staring Richard in the face, and that was the importance of getting an heir. There had always been anxiety about Edward’s health and he and Anne had longed for another child. She had been so delicate that he had begun to feel that they would never have another and while they had the young Prince they could put their hope in him. But now he was gone. Moreover Anne’s health had deteriorated rapidly since the death of Edward. It was clear that a great interest had been taken out of her life and she felt so ill now that she could no longer disguise it.

Richard called in the doctors.

Could they not do something? Surely their skill was not beyond helping her.

They shook their heads.

‘It is a disease of the lungs, my lord. The Queen cannot recover. She can only grow progressively worse.’

The physicians were uneasy and he was aware that there was something else they wished to say to him. They hesitated, each waiting for the other to speak.