The Queen's Rival
Page 18
Perhaps you could deliver it yourself and I can make my apologies in person. I find that I am in need of conversation.
My prayers to the Blessed Virgin are answered and I am overflowing with pride and gratitude. It fills me to the brim and more. So would Richard rejoice at this momentous victory of his son.
Is it wrong to experience such exhilaration, all because of the deaths of more men on the battlefield? All I can think is that Ned is safe and well and victorious. And Richard avenged. I fear there is a strong streak of retribution in me, for which I should be ashamed.
I think the three suns was indeed a sign from the Blessed Virgin. If not merely a trick of light through mist.
I must repent of my lack of faith. My family will live again. It is Ned who will rule on Henry’s death.
As long as we can defend ourselves against the Queen.
I know it and must put my trust in Ned and in Warwick.
I will continue to wear sombre garments in Richard’s honour, but my days of mourning are over in support of my beloved son.
I understand that Warwick has marched north to take issue with the Queen’s forces. I know that he will be successful. After Ned’s victory, what can stop us now?
Cecily
England’s Chronicle, the seventeenth day of February 1461
Dust off your red roses, citizens!
More disaster, if you are of a Yorkist disposition and have a white rose pinned to your cap. It might be politic to remove it and wear a red one for the coming days.
Our pens are indeed dipped in blood.
For those of our readers who thought that the Battle of Mortimer’s Cross, only two weeks since, would draw the conflict to a close, with victory for York, their hopes must be dashed. The Queen’s forces were closer than we thought, meeting with the Earl of Warwick at St Albans.
The results are still unclear, but we suspect a Yorkist reversal.
Who rules England now?
We may see the value of dissociating ourselves from the ambitions of the Earls of March and Warwick. We advised the citizens of London to be prepared to hop from York to Lancaster speedily, if the news is bad for that ambitious family.
Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick, to Cecily, Dowager Duchess of York
Written from St Albans
To my revered aunt,
Our cause has suffered badly at St Albans. No time to write more, only to say that my army is defeated and King Henry has fallen into the hands of the Queen and her son. In retrospect it was not good policy to take the King with us to give my army royal authority.
I have no choice but to leave the field and venture west to try to make contact with March near Oxford.
If the Queen takes control of London – and who is to stop her? – she will have no compassion for you or on your children. Henry was persuaded to issue a proclamation against plundering, but Marguerite’s army ignored it. Her treatment of prisoners was bloody and without justice.
I cannot give you advice, unless you wish to flee to Ireland where your safety will be assured. It might be good policy in the circumstances.
Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick
Anne, Dowager Duchess of Buckingham, to Cecily, Dowager Duchess of York
Written from the Palace of Westminster
Cis!
Do you have plans for your safety? The Queen will not look kindly on you. Henry’s guards were executed on the spot at St Albans, as an example to all who cross her. She allowed her eight-year-old son to pronounce the sentence.
Do you flee?
Anne
Cecily, Dowager Duchess of York, to Anne, Dowager Duchess of Buckingham
Written from Baynard’s Castle
I remain here at Baynard’s Castle. I do not flee.
Even if the Queen stands outside my gates, I will remain and I will face her. My children remain here with me. I trust in the strength of my walls and towers.
If you fear for me, use your past loyalties and beg for her mercy for me, in Humphrey’s name. Although I doubt she will be receptive.
Cecily
England’s Chronicle, February 1461
The Queen is outside our gates.
Panic ensues in our streets.
Do we open them and welcome our Lancastrian King and Queen once more?
What will Queen Marguerite ask of us? Will it be retribution for our support for York?
Lock your doors, brave citizens. Lock your doors!
Cecily, Dowager Duchess of York, to Anne, Dowager Duchess of Buckingham
Written from Baynard’s Castle
What?
I cannot believe you would ask it of me. Do I understand you correctly? Will I lend my authority to a delegation of women, to carry Queen Marguerite’s demands to the Mayor of London? Will I intercede between the Queen and the citizens of London, so that she might march in and take control with no opposition?
No and no and no.
Not even if it prevents bloodshed. Not that I trust any promises that the Queen might make. Ned is Richard’s heir to the throne, not her young son. The Act of Accord makes that more than plain. The citizens must put themselves in order to protect their own rights.
I advise you to have nothing to do with it, Anne. All Marguerite needs is a handful of pawns who will do her bidding. Or puppets who will dance as she pulls the strings. I will not be one of them. In the present crisis I have other carp from my fishpond to fry.
I have two letters to write. One to give some advice that I know will not be welcome and will probably be rejected out of hand. The other is to call in a most royal debt, shaking my Plantagenet begging bowl.
Henry is no longer fit to rule England. I hear he was sitting, singing and laughing, under a tree on the battlefield, when he was snatched from Warwick at St Albans. Only a fool would work for his restoration.
Your defiant sister,
Cecily
England’s Chronicle, February 1461
Exciting times! Desperate times!
The Queen devised a scheme to get herself and her forces through the gates of London without conflict. A delegation of three noble ladies agreed to carry terms from the Queen to the Mayor.
Who were they? Noble ladies indeed. Jacquetta, once the powerful Dowager Duchess of Bedford and now wife of Sir Richard Woodville. That notable heiress Elizabeth, Lady Scales. And Anne, Dowager Duchess of Buckingham. All three with reputations for being strong proponents of the House of Lancaster.
It has to be noted that Duchess Cecily refused to be one of these noble petitioners. She is quoted as saying: ‘I would spit at her feet first.’
The petition: The Queen promises no harm will come to you and your City if you will profess your loyalty. In recognition of that loyalty, the Queen requests food and supplies due to her and her army.
Requests? Demands more like.
The Mayor panicked. Assured the Queen of his loyalty. And when a skirmish between citizens and soldiers left some for dead at the City gates, he packed a number of carts with money and food to conciliate the royal anger. Which might have calmed the situation, but the citizens refused to let the carts pass through. Instead the worthy citizens took the keys of the City gates, locked them and divided what they found in the carts between themselves.
Upon which we were all left to tremble at the prospect of a long-drawn-out siege.
Ah, but the Queen went into retreat.
We would have expected the Queen to have more backbone. Not the King, but why would the Queen decide to retreat, taking King Henry and the young Prince with her?
What persuaded her?
Who persuaded her?
Perhaps she decided she had enough on her golden plate with Henry, without a full-scale siege. We hear that the royal party has retreated as far north as York. Do we heave a sigh of relief, or wish that they had taken up residence in London and dispatched our Yorkist usurpers about their business?
What now?
Where is the Earl of Warwick? Where is the Ear
l of March?
What colour roses do we wear for the next week?
Marguerite, Queen of England, to Cecily, Dowager Duchess of York
Written from York
Madam,
I received your courier to my pavilion outside the gates of London with some surprise. I read your letter. It was stark in its reading of the situation. I would, of course, have expected no less.
You ask for compassion. I have none.
You offer me advice. To this I must give some passing consideration.
It is difficult to feel compassion for a family that has inflicted so much damage on mine. I feel nothing but antipathy. I have been hurt too deeply. Yet because of past associations, and because I saw the political sense of it, I will take heed.
It goes against the grain but my counsellors agree with me and consider it unwise to engage in a siege in this cold and uncertain weather. The City of London is not welcoming, nor do I see much hope of a change. I know that you are in residence at Baynard’s Castle, from where I have my suspicions that you are stirring revolt in the name of your son and the Earl of Warwick.
It is a bitter decision but we have retired north to regroup in the city of York. I swear it has better memories for me than it will for you. I have not given up my fight. My son is the rightful King when Henry comes to the end of his mortal struggle, and I will support him until my dying breath leaves my body.
You should be warned. If your two youngest sons ever fall into my hands, I will ensure they suffer the same fate as their brother Rutland after the battle of Wakefield. March and Warwick do not control this country. Thus you and your children remain in danger.
There is room for more heads on Micklegate Bar.
Marguerite, Queen of England
Cecily, Dowager Duchess of York, to Philip, Duke of Burgundy
Written from Baynard’s Castle, February 1461
Your grace,
When you read this, my gracious lord, you will be confronted by two small boys, probably almost dead on their feet from exhaustion and anxious about their future. They are my sons. They are the sons of Richard, Duke of York, brothers of Edward, Earl of March, who will, by right, be King of England in the fullness of time.
I have sent them to you because I know you for a man of solicitude towards us and our cause. Here in England any son of York will be in danger from the vengeance of Queen Marguerite. I dare not keep them with me after the despicable treatment of my husband and son, and my brother.
I had no time to request your kindness, or that of your Duchess, Isabella, who is my cousin and will not be without compassion. Thus I am presuming, by sending them without warning, that you will not turn your back on me.
All I can ask is that you will offer them sanctuary in Burgundy until times change and all is safe for their return.
Until my son March returns, I stand as figurehead of the House of York in London. I have a duty to do so. I can do this if I know my young sons are safe. I considered sending my daughter Margaret with them but she will stay with me. I think the Queen will never loose her vengeance on a young woman.
I beg on your charity, take my sons under your care until the Wheel of Fortune turns once more. Treat them gently for they have had much to suffer in their young lives, even though I suspect that you are reluctant to nail your flag openly to the Yorkist masthead.
It will relieve my mind of a burden that is almost too great for me to bear.
Cecily, Dowager Duchess of York
Cecily, Dowager Duchess of York, to Edward, Earl of March
Written from Baynard’s Castle
I wait to greet you, in your father’s name and mine.
I know what you will hope for when you march with Warwick into London. Allow the citizens their moment of welcome. It will be vociferous for they feel wantonly betrayed by King Henry, as they feel hostility towards the Queen for her selfish demands. There was a real fear in the streets when she stood outside our gates, threatening us with her unmanageable forces. It will be a good lesson for you to learn. It is vital that you have the support of London. If the City turns against you, you are in danger.
Will you take some of these words from your mother? And a warning. All can still so easily slide into disaster for you.
When your father marched into London from Hereford, he was too rough, too demanding. Too presumptuous of his power. You were there and you saw it. You tasted the sour response. Your father would be the first to admit that he handled it badly. He would be the first to admit that he rejected my advice to act in a spirit of compromise.
You need to plan carefully and thoroughly, my son, and with patience. Come to Baynard’s Castle, wait here in isolation, and let others pave the way for you.
Do not, under any circumstances, march on Westminster to take what you consider to be yours, because to do so might push the Lords into reigniting their loyalty to King Henry, or his son the Prince of Wales.
You came of age at the Battle of Mortimer’s Cross. Now you must become politically astute too, despite your lack of years, casting aside the restlessness that is akin to youth. Come to Baynard’s Castle and we will work together to write the history of the House of York. Leave your troops camped outside the City walls in Clerkenwell Fields. It will make a good impression.
The time passes slowly until I see you again, after all the fear of recent weeks. I have sent George and Diccon to the safe hands of the Duke of Burgundy. You are my only son with feet on English soil. I was advised to flee with them but I will risk imprisonment and humiliation to proclaim the name of York in this capital in your absence.
I miss your father more than I can tell you. We will work together to see his dream realised. I expect you at Baynard’s Castle within the week.
Your devoted mother,
Cecily, Dowager Duchess of York
England’s Chronicle, the twenty-sixth day of February 1461
What a joyous return! White roses to the fore!
Here’s a fact that no citizen of London will need telling. Were you not all out in the streets, cheering him on? Edward, Earl of March, now Edward, Duke of York, has marched into London with twenty thousand knights and thirty thousand foot soldiers behind him. At his side rides the Earl of Warwick.
You might cheer this resurrection of the House of York, but the question that should be on every man’s lips is:
‘What will this new Duke of York do with such a force?’
Do we not all recall his father, demanding more power than was his right? With the Queen and King Henry, far to the north, all is open to possibilities. If King Henry is not here to wear his crown, then others might take it from him and give it elsewhere, and not wait until his death.
They say our King Henry was discovered sitting witless beneath a tree during the Battle at St Albans. Does that sound like the action of a King when his soldiers are fighting for their lives and his future?
What is Duchess Cecily doing? We know she is in Baynard’s Castle. Will she encourage her son to steal the crown? Or will she advise him to keep to the letter of the Act of Accord and await King Henry’s death?
By the by, we note the absence of two of the younger members of Duchess Cecily’s household. Her two young sons are enjoying the luxury of the Court of Duke Philip of Burgundy. How can we blame her for sending them to safety?
Why would she not go with them? The humiliation of being taken captive into the presence of the Queen would be enough to spur anyone into flight.
Chapter Sixteen
A New King Is Crowned
Cecily, Dowager Duchess of York, to Richard Neville, Earl of Warwick
Written from Baynard’s Castle, March 1461
Nephew,
I don’t trust Ned’s common sense to hold sway over his enthusiasms. He will listen to you, whereas he might consider his mother’s words those of a weak woman. He should know better. He will soon learn.
Meanwhile, I turn to you.
Stop Ned from going straight to Westmins
ter. It would be a mistake. You were there a year ago and saw the repercussions when York claimed the throne. Bring my son here to me.
Then we wait. And plot.
Cecily, Dowager Duchess of York
Cecily, Dowager Duchess of York, to George Neville, Bishop of Exeter
Written from Baynard’s Castle
To my clerical nephew,
I write in haste. Here is where you will come into your own in the service of your Neville family, and particularly your young cousin of York.
You have a way with words and enjoy the sound of your own voice. Some would say that you have a pomposity and a love of self-aggrandisement. I would agree. You have also shown acumen in dealing with legal matters. I require you to make use of your many and various skills.
Make a case for Ned to be acclaimed King. To be acclaimed now. Not when King Henry has passed from this life. By then Marguerite will be well entrenched with the Scots as her allies, promoting her young son in the role of heir, whatever the Act of Accord might say. I am convinced that it would be wrong to wait. It would leave England without sails or anchor.
If you need help from me, you know where I am based. I am sure that you can do it on your own, with due recourse to the law.
From your aunt,
Cecily, Dowager Duchess of York
George Neville, Bishop of Exeter, to Cecily, Dowager Duchess of York
Written from the Palace of Westminster, on the first day of March 1461
To my esteemed and perspicacious Aunt.
I have fulfilled your wishes with great promptitude, and I have to say with even greater acumen. I enjoyed your praise of my skills and will overlook your animadversions on my character. What the outcome of my interventions will be, that is a matter for fate to decide. It is a hard task to push the Lords into action against their better judgement. Every last one of them is conscious solely of his own power and prestige. Will they, en masse, support Ned? I have no clear idea.