The King's Dogge

by Nigel Green

  Loyalty is a heavy cross, but it has to be born.

  ‘I will, my lady; in spite of what has happened, I believe that the reasons to place your husband on the throne are as valid now as they were previously. Additionally, as I have said, I will always be loyal to Richard. But there is one aspect of your speech that has distressed me, my lady.’

  She frowned momentarily but then, smiling wanly, she spread her hands.

  ‘It is possible that I was a trifle distraught, dear Francis. Perhaps I made some unfortunate remark that caused you pain? It was certainly not my intention to do so.’

  ‘No, it wasn’t that.’

  Anne Neville regarded me blankly.

  ‘Conceivably, I spoke too harshly of my husband. Now naturally he was foolish, but that is not to say…’

  Dear God; was there not an ounce of humanity left in the women or had her lust for power destroyed it completely?

  ‘It wasn’t that either,’ I said wearily. ‘What upset me was that the only reason you regret the deaths of the princes is because of the threat that their murder poses to you and your husband.’

  She looked at me enquiringly.

  ‘Well, what else is there? Naturally any death, even that of Woodville blood, is to be regretted, but…’

  ‘But their murders were not just any death! These were children, my lady, small defenceless children sleeping peaceably until they woke with a start at the sound of strange footsteps climbing the stairs towards them. Young boys, my lady, who would have clung terrified to one another in the gloom of the night, as slowly the door creaked open…’

  She waved her hand feebly, but I continued.

  ‘They would have been petrified as their killers came out of the darkness into their room. They would have cried out in terror as they saw the pitiless looks on the faces of the two Brachers. But the children’s pleas for mercy would have gone unheeded, wouldn’t they, my lady? And their feeble attempts at resistance would have been to no avail. Two small lads would not have stood a chance against two grown men determined to earn their blood money.’

  I looked down at her contemptuously and she lowered her eyes.

  ‘I don’t suppose the two young princes were much older than your own son, my lady. Try to think of them when you next see him.’

  She made no response as I turned to leave. I quietly cursed her, Richard and Catesby. Above all, though, I cursed the bind of my own loyalty.

  CHAPTER 17

  Ratcliffe, it appeared, had known about the princes for three weeks. Having heard the rumours that had been circulating in York about the deaths of the boys, he had requested Richard to allow them to be paraded through London to suppress such malicious gossip.

  ‘But then she sent for me, told me what had happened and asked me how best we could deal with it.’

  ‘What did you recommend?’

  ‘Nothing. If it had been one boy, we could have blamed it on a fever – but two and at the same time? No, the best thing was to say nothing and let people believe that they had been secretly moved out of London.’

  ‘But if there are rumours of their deaths, it doesn’t sound as if it worked.’

  ‘Agreed, but it was worth a try. Anyway she then told me to write to Catesby in London. She said that you would want as much information as possible to plan your campaign.’ Ratcliffe smiled grimly. ‘Her language in relation to our dearly beloved colleague is quite colourful, isn’t it? But she did point out that the only way he could hope to regain favour was if he helped to prevent the rebellion that he’d indirectly created. I’ve got his reports here; they arrived yesterday.’

  ‘All right, I’ll read them tonight and we’ll talk tomorrow.’

  It was several hours later that I pushed back the chair and stretched. Realising I was incredibly hungry, I called for food. As I waited for its arrival, I reflected on what I had read.

  I was impressed by the efficiency of the documents I had studied and was certain that the content was correct. Indeed, it was hard to find fault in any aspect of Catesby’s objective reporting. He was clearly brave too; a lesser man might simply have relayed the information that he had received from his agents and simply sent it without trying to reconcile conflicting stories or venturing an opinion himself – but not Catesby. In his desire to try to rehabilitate himself, he had used his considerable intellect to build up a highly detailed picture of the curious combination of Yorkists, Woodvilles and Lancastrians who were ranged against us.

  The major opposition, Catesby began, was from the followers of the late King Edward in southern England. Many of these were important men who had been trustingly left in their positions, as sheriffs and crown officials at the time of Richard’s accession. Most of these men had been hostile to the new king taking the throne and might have been planning to try and replace him with the late king’s eldest son. However, whether they were or were not, the current rumours of the murders of the princes had turned them solidly against the king.

  With the two royal bastards believed dead, these potential rebels lacked a leader. Diligent research had, to Catesby’s surprise, revealed that the former supporters of King Edward had no wish to replace King Richard with either of his two nephews – the young Earl of Warwick or John of Lincoln. Instead, they planned to transfer their allegiance to the last Lancastrian claimant to the throne, Henry Tudor, and wished him to marry King Edward’s eldest daughter, Elizabeth. Catesby added that, despite the absence of any royal blood in Henry Tudor, he believed this to be a clever ploy since it would put an end to the wars between the Houses of York and Lancaster.24 He understood that the Woodvilles supported this particularly as, by themselves, they were incapable of overthrowing King Richard.

  On the subject of the Woodvilles, Catesby noted, he suspected the active involvement of Elizabeth Woodville’s eldest son, Dorset, and her brother Lionel Woodville, together with their adherents, in the plot. At this stage, Catesby felt unable to give precise estimates of rebel numbers but judged that they would be substantial. Preliminary information indicated three or possibly four major mustering points; he hoped to be able to provide the specific locations within a few days. With regard to Henry Tudor, information was less detailed. There had been no reports of large numbers of ships being provisioned in Brittany; hence he judged it unlikely that Tudor would seek to land backed by a sizeable Breton contingent. Likewise, he regretted not having precise data but he thought it likely that Tudor would seek to land in the West Country, which was still the most pro-Lancastrian part of England. In conclusion, Catesby promised to provide further information as it became available and humbly begged that if I or Sir Richard Ratcliffe had any specific questions we should send him a message immediately.

  The arrival of a page with bread and goats cheese momentarily caused me to break away from my thoughts, but with his departure I returned to Catesby’s analysis of the rebellion, and the more I thought about it, the more concerned I became. So I re-read Catesby’s reports for a second time since it was possible that the feeble light from the flickering candles could have caused me to miss something. But when eventually I finished, I was still confused. While the reports were detailed and probably accurate, they failed to address the obvious question – how on earth could the rebels hope to win?

  ‘But why do you say that?’ Richard asked me.

  I gave him a surprised look. At least conversation flowed more easily between us now. Initially both of us had been guarded, possibly even nervous of the other. After a while we found ourselves being frank and honest with each other; since that which had happened could not be undone, both of us wished to move away from it.

  ‘Their tactics are wrong. Let’s assume Catesby’s latest information is correct. We know that the rebels are planning for simultaneous uprisings – in Exeter, Salisbury, Newbury and Kent, and we know the timing too – St Luke’s Day.’

  ‘It’s going to be hard to deal with four outbreaks.’

  I shook my head impatiently.

  �
�No it’s not. Firstly, remember that the South of England has few major lords with armed followers, so while I agree that these rebels are men of local importance, they haven’t got the resources that we have. Secondly, they are too spread out.’

  ‘But they would look to join together when Henry Tudor lands?’

  ‘That would take considerable co-ordination and we’re not going to just wait for them. Don’t forget they have no overall general either and, most important of all, they are not being supported by a substantial number of Breton soldiers.’

  Richard looked puzzled.

  ‘I suppose you’re right, but if Catesby is correct, the men leading this rebellion are sheriffs, JPs and landowners. Men such as these are not stupid. They must know that all our own loyal lords can deal with them easily. Why, Norfolk can move his men out of East Anglia and crush the Kentish rebels. Buckingham’s troops can deal with the ones in Exeter.’

  ‘And I’ll move down to Oxford and raise men to deal with the rest. But it’s too easy, isn’t it? We’re missing something.’ I paused for a moment. ‘Write to Norfolk, Richard, and tell him to be prepared to defend London and to take all the necessary measures to prevent the rebels from crossing the Thames. Then give orders to increase the number of men guarding Elizabeth Woodville and her daughters in sanctuary.’

  ‘Wouldn’t it just be easier to drag them out of sanctuary?’ he asked irritably. ‘Then they could be safely hidden away.’

  There was a loud tap at the door.

  ‘Particularly the older one whom Tudor’s supporters want him to marry; then no one would try to rescue them.’

  The knocking on the door became more persistent.

  Richard wheeled round in fury. At that moment the door was flung open and Catesby rushed in. He was filthy and looked exhausted.

  ‘Your Grace. The Duke of Buckingham has risen in revolt! He’s raised 3,000 men and plans to join the southern rebels!’

  Catesby panted while he gave us his news. He admitted to mistrusting the Duke of Buckingham, since he had always feared his ambitions. Accordingly, directly after the royal tour had commenced, he had instructed his agents to watch the duke’s behaviour closely.

  Initially, he feared that he might have misjudged matters, as nothing untoward had occurred, but as he investigated the southern rebellion more closely, one item in particular caught his attention. It was a report of a meeting at Thornbury between Lionel Woodville, who he knew to be involved in the revolt, and the Duke of Buckingham.

  His suspicions aroused by now, he checked his agents’ most recent reports regarding Buckingham and it appeared to him that there was evidence of military supplies being gathered. He could find no trace of men being summoned, but doubtless that was proceeding. Not trusting anyone else with the message, he had ridden to tell the king personally.

  Richard was incredulous.

  ‘Are you insane? On the evidence of one meeting between Buckingham and Lionel Woodville – who happens to be his brother-in-law – you’re seriously suggesting that the man who did most to put me on the throne has become a traitor?’

  Catesby’s hands shook nervously.

  ‘I could get more evidence if I had more time, Your Grace, but I fear that the duke is already summoning his men.’

  ‘Bah! There you go again trying to rush me into something foolhardy.’

  Behind him, the chamber door swung open and the guards ushered in Anne Neville. Seeing Catesby, she curled her lips contemptuously and dismissed her two attendant ladies.

  ‘And what is that doing here?’ she demanded witheringly.

  Richard gestured to Catesby.

  ‘Tell the queen your ridiculous story!’ he commanded.

  At the second time of telling, Catesby’s tale sounded even less credible. Anne Neville was clearly unimpressed.

  ‘So, once again, you seek to poison the king’s mind in order to further your own ambitions. Yet again, you invent plots and traitors to build yourself up.’

  ‘But, my lady, it’s the truth!’

  She ignored his protest.

  ‘I had been led to believe that you are clever,’ she remarked scornfully. ‘Doubtless such praise was awarded to you by your fellow men, since they naturally view anything that is not mediocre as exceptional. But, be that as it may, what truly amazes me is that you have the arrogance to assume that anyone else could possibly believe you.

  ‘Tell me, you fat fool, before the guards drag you away, why should the Duke of Buckingham risk all his titles, lands and honours that the king has given him to back a nobody like Henry Tudor?’

  Catesby’s hands flapped wildly.

  ‘I cannot understand his reasoning, my lady. The only possible reason there could be is that he has noted the hostility that some men showed when your husband seized… um… that is, inherited the throne. Then when the news of the princes was sounded out abroad, he worried that, in placing King Richard on the throne, he had made a mistake and backed the wrong man. Possibly he feared that men would associate him too closely with the king and the death of the princes.’

  ‘Call them the royal bastards, you idiot!’

  ‘Quite so, my lady, but maybe he thought as a result – were the rebels to be victorious – he would lose his lands. Conceivably, he may have feared for his very life.’

  ‘You have no idea, do you?’

  Anne Neville’s acid tones cut through Catesby’s frightened babble.

  ‘For all your fine words, there are too many “ifs” and “buts”. Now I recall that in the past you expressed the belief that Buckingham seeks to wear my husband’s crown. So tell me, you ridiculous apology for a man, why would he back Henry Tudor to become king? Why would he support a man, who has a lesser claim than his own?’

  I stepped forward.

  ‘There is one major point…’

  ‘Sweet Christ, Lovell, will you not interrupt! Had you spoken out half as much at Minster Lovell, we would not be in this situation.’ She turned to her husband. ‘My lord, if you listen to this fat slug’s advice and march against Buckingham, all you will achieve is to turn your most loyal supporter into an enemy.’

  Richard nodded.

  ‘I’ll tell Buckingham to move against the rebels in Exeter and Salisbury. Francis, you’ll gather men here and then move south to reinforce him.’

  ‘No.’

  For a moment there was a stunned silence as Richard and his wife stared at me in total disbelief. Even the white-faced Catesby shot me an amazed look. I pointed at him.

  ‘He’s right, Your Grace.’

  I ignored the storm that swept over me and blotted out the furious voices of the king and queen. I had little love for Catesby; once, possibly twice now, he had fooled people with his tales of imaginary plots and, had it not been for one thing, I would have readily accepted that this was a third attempt to do just the same thing. I waited patiently, reflecting how unfortunate it was that true loyalty can often involve opposing those whom you serve when you believe them to be wrong, but such is the way of things. Despite the vitriolic words and furious glances flung at me, I knew it was the best way to help Richard. Eventually something like calm settled in the chamber, so I asked if I could depart as there was much to be done and not much time left.

  ‘And what, pray, are you intending to do?’

  If anything Anne Neville’s tone was more scathing than earlier.

  ‘I’m going to stop Buckingham and his men from crossing the Severn to get into England,’ I said grimly. ‘I’ve no idea why Buckingham has joined the revolt, but now the rebel tactics make sense.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘Before you arrived, my lady, the king and I were discussing the rebellion. To our minds, a series of localised outbreaks could have been fairly easily suppressed and, as such, the rebel strategy made no sense. But now, with a large force to serve as the nucleus of an army, their strategy is obvious. Buckingham will advance into England and move eastwards across southern England. He’ll get reinforcements from t
he rebel mustering points and move towards London. By the time we have assembled our own men, he might have outnumbered us.’

  ‘But if you’re wrong, you will have turned an ally into an enemy!’ objected Richard. ‘You’ll have stopped him coming to our aid.’

  ‘I’m not wrong!’ I told him. ‘In fact, I know I’m right. Now if you want to suppress this revolt, the only way to do it is to stop Buckingham’s force from linking up with the southern rebels. That means holding him with inferior numbers until we can bring our major force against him. We need to drive a wedge between him and the other rebels and that means stopping him at the Severn River. I’ll do that while you bring the rest of the troops south. If we can stop Buckingham, the rest of the revolt will fizzle out.’

  There was a silence while husband and wife looked at each other uncertainly.

  ‘We could travel down to Lincoln as planned,’ I suggested, ‘but what we could do is to gather our own men as we go. I’ll leave you there and raise my own troops. I’ll collect more troops in Banbury. I strongly recommend that you ask for the Great Seal and declare the Duke of Buckingham a traitor.’

  But this was to prove one campaign that I did not need to fight to help Richard. As I moved towards Gloucester, it became apparent that not only were the rains in the South-West of England excessively severe, but also they had caused substantial flooding in the region. With all the bridges across the Severn already having been destroyed, the Duke of Buckingham’s army was unable to enter England. Reports began to come in from our forward scouts. They spoke of plunging morale among Buckingham’s men as the combination of driving rain and floods took their toll on his army. Communications later confirmed this. Additionally it appeared that it was impossible to bring supplies to his force.

  I smiled grimly when I heard the news. By now Buckingham’s own spies would have reported the news of our own advance. If morale was already low in Buckingham’s force, it would sink like a stone when his men realised that they would soon be fighting the whole royal army themselves. I slowed the pace of our advance and waited for the inevitable.