Warwick: The Man Behind The Wars of the Roses

by Tony Riches

  He took her hand and saw a look of concern in her eyes. ‘What’s the matter?’

  ‘I hope you won’t be too disappointed if it is a girl?’

  They had discussed it many times since Anne first discovered she was with child. They both knew this could be their only chance, although there was no point in making things worse for her.

  ‘I’ll be happy once I know you and the baby are both well.’ He was used to avoiding the question.

  ‘I know you will call him Richard if it is a boy. We’ve never discussed girls’ names?’

  Richard had not even allowed himself to think about a daughter. He was still holding her hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

  ‘Did you have a name in mind?’

  ‘Isabel.’ Anne’s mood brightened again. ‘If it is a girl, I should like to name her after my mother.’

  Chapter 7 - Summer 1453

  After two years of relative peace between the families, Richard arrived at Middleham Castle to find his brother’s wedding celebrations overtaken by preparations for a battle. Hundreds of heavily armed soldiers were camped in the outer fields and horses occupied every available stable in the inner ward. The normally peaceful castle echoed to the ringing sound of blacksmiths’ hammers and men shouting orders.

  He was summoned back from business in Wales by a worryingly urgent message from his father, demanding his immediate return. The timing was not ideal. He had been once again defending his estates in Wales against a challenge from Edmund Beaufort, the Duke of Somerset, who had used his influence with the king to be granted lands which were rightfully his. Richard hadn’t hesitated though, as his father would not have called him home without good reason.

  Anne was to follow the next day in her carriage with their daughter, so that he could travel more quickly. It had been a disappointment to him when their first child had not been a son, although there was plenty of time for more children and he loved Isabel. She looked older than her two years. Her dark hair had grown longer and she wore fashionable little dresses made for her by Anne’s own seamstress.

  Richard’s mother invited him into her private rooms. They felt refreshingly cool after the summer heat and the thick walls silenced the noise outside. His mother looked tired and preoccupied with everything going on at the castle. She gave him a welcoming hug. The delicate scent of rose water, her favourite perfume, reminded him of when she had held him close as a child.

  ‘It’s good to see you, Richard. We didn’t expect you to get here so soon.’

  He unbuckled his sword and sat down heavily in a comfortable chair, loosening his tunic and rubbing his eyes. It had been hot on the road and he was tired from his journey. ‘I rode through the night with a few of my guards. The rest of my men will be here in a few days with Anne and Isabel. There wasn’t time to send a rider ahead.’

  He had a lot of questions and knew his mother would have most of the answers. He often thought they were alike. Nothing of importance escaped her attention, particularly when it concerned her family. She also had a gift for encouraging people to take her into their confidence. Richard found himself wishing she could have travelled with him to Wales. His mother would have known what Edmund Beaufort was up to.

  Richard was concerned. ‘Where is father? Is he here?’

  ‘He went to the village with your brother Thomas to recruit more men. They should be back before nightfall.’

  ‘His message said you were ambushed. What happened?’

  ‘We were on our way back to Sheriff Hutton. They blocked our path and surrounded the whole wedding party.’ His mother frowned at him as she remembered something. ‘You should have come to your brother’s wedding, Richard. You know Thomas was offended by your absence?’

  ‘I’m sorry. There was urgent business I had to take care of.’

  ‘You are an important man now, Richard. You must remember people will judge you, not only by your actions.’ She looked at him intently. ‘They also judge you by what you choose not to do.’

  He could tell by the tone of her voice she wasn’t talking about missing his brother’s wedding.

  ‘What is it?’

  She looked at him and he noticed a twinkle in her eyes.

  ‘I know about Megan, Richard. I also know about Margaret.’

  ‘How?’ He had kept his secret well, or at least he thought so, until now.

  ‘Megan came to see me. She brought little Margaret with her.’ His mother smiled. ‘She is a beautiful woman, Richard. And Margaret is a clever little girl.’

  Richard felt a surge of pride despite himself. ‘She must be five now. She is a lot like you.’

  ‘Margaret is my granddaughter.’

  ‘Why did Megan come to see you?’

  ‘She doesn’t want her daughter to grow up and marry some village boy. She wants Margaret to become a lady, to have an education.’

  Richard understood. He did his best to see Megan and little Margaret as often as he could, yet it would never be enough. Worse still, his duties in the council made it hard to find time to visit and Margaret was growing up without him. He often found himself thinking how different life would be if he had been able to marry Megan.

  ‘What am I supposed to do? Tell Anne I have a secret daughter and I want her to come and live with us?’

  ‘That’s exactly what you are going to do, Richard.’ His mother spoke firmly, as if he was a young boy again.

  Richard silently cursed. Anne had been right. It had changed everything when they were confirmed as Earl and Countess of Warwick. Almost overnight he became one of the richest landowners in the country. He had also become one of the highest ranking nobles in the country, with all the duties and responsibilities that came with the title.

  He could easily have settled for a role in the court or council and enjoyed his new wealth. It had never been in his nature to take the easy option. Richard had been brought up with a clear sense of duty, so was doing everything in his power to deal with those who wished to dispute his right to every acre of land. There was no need to keep Margaret a secret. People would respect his honesty and forget his indiscretion, or so he hoped.

  ‘You are right as always, mother.’ He gave her a hug. ‘It would be a weight off my mind to not have to keep Megan a secret any more. You can help Margaret to grow up a lady. I will have to speak to Anne and will try to explain to my brother Thomas.’

  ‘Thank you, Richard. I know they will both understand.’

  ‘I hope you’re right.’ He looked at her questioningly. ‘Now I need to know about the ambush. What did they do?’

  ‘Your father ordered them to make way and let us pass in peace.’ She shook her head at the memory. ‘They ignored him. I was worried, as they had a lot of armed men and I could tell some of them had been drinking. They had definitely planned to ambush us.’

  ‘Are you certain they were Thomas Percy’s men?’

  His mother frowned as she tried to recall the details. ‘Most of them were wearing his colours. I saw the Percy banner and your father said both Thomas and Richard Percy were there, urging the men on. They were keeping their distance, though.’

  Richard shook his head. ‘What were they trying to achieve?’

  His mother looked at him. ‘You know this was simply a matter of time?’

  Richard did. His brother’s marriage to Lord Cromwell’s heir, Maude Stanhope, would further increase the Neville estates at the expense of the Percy family. Thomas Percy was an outspoken young man and had publicly criticised the Nevilles. This time he had gone too far. Fortunately his brother Thomas made sure they travelled with a well-armed escort.

  ‘How has father taken all this?’

  ‘As you would expect, your father is furious. I worry he’ll take the law into his own hands.’

  Richard could see his mother was concerned. They both knew the old feud with the Percy family could one day put them all in danger. He’d worked hard to avoid direct conflict and now his brother’s marriage seemed to be takin
g them to the brink of civil war. If all the soldiers camped outside were anything to go by, his father meant business.

  ‘Father knows better than anyone. Unless he can prove he is acting in self-defence, there is no way he can justify attacking the Percy family.’ Richard shook his head. ‘That might have been the way things were done in the old days. Now it’s a lot more complicated.’

  His mother looked at him, her expression serious as she handed him a letter bearing the king’s seal. ‘Your father received this. You should read it, Richard.’

  He took the letter and studied it carefully. The stern reminder from the Royal Council stated that, as Commissioner of the Peace and Member of the Royal Council, his duty was to keep the peace and uphold the law. If he failed to stop what they called riotous gatherings and large assemblies all his titles would be forfeit. Richard knew his mother was anxious for him to tell her what it meant.

  He looked at her. ‘It all makes sense now. What did Percy’s men actually do when you found you were ambushed?’

  She thought for a moment. ‘They shouted rude insults, called us names.’

  Richard shook his head. ‘Why do you think that was, Mother?’

  She immediately saw his point. ‘They wanted us to react, to attack them first!’

  ‘I believe this is a plot by Father’s enemies on the council to have a reason to see him removed.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I was in Wales to stop Edmund Beaufort, Duke of Somerset, from taking the lands that are rightfully mine. He has a lot of influence at court. I fear he has chosen to side with the Percy family.’

  ‘Now I see why you have to stop him.’ She put her hands on Richard’s shoulders as she had when he was a boy and looked into his eyes. ‘You must help your father see what’s going on, talk him out of it.’

  Richard laughed at the idea. ‘That’s the problem. Father has been around the council much more than I have. He knows what this is all about.’

  ‘What do you think we should do?’

  ‘I think I have an answer to that. If it’s not already too late.’

  The banqueting hall at Middleham Castle had been decorated for the wedding celebrations yet the talk now was all of tactics. Richard sat at his father’s side. The ladies had retired after their meal. His brother Thomas’s new wife Maud had hardly spoken all evening and he supposed she was wondering what she had let herself in for. She seemed pretty enough and Anne would find her pleasant company, so his brother had done well, all things considered.

  As well as Thomas and John, his brother George had also joined them from Oxford where he was studying for the priesthood. Richard’s father had told him one day he hoped his son George could rise high in the church, perhaps to even become a Cardinal of Rome. Now twenty-one, George was tall and handsome and had inherited his mother’s skill of silent observation. Richard glanced across at him now and George acknowledged him with an almost imperceptible nod of his head.

  Richard’s father dismissed the servants. He closed the heavy oak doors behind them and poured himself another goblet of wine. Richard looked across the table to where his three brothers sat. Their faces looked grim in the flickering candlelight. They all knew he had been summoned home to Middleham to help them come up with a plan for dealing with the Percy family.

  ‘How many men do you think they can muster?’

  Thomas answered. ‘It’s hard to be sure. I think there could have been as many as a thousand when we were ambushed.’ He looked across at his father. ‘Thomas Percy’s been busy recruiting more men in York since then, handing out his livery to anyone who will take his money. He could have double that number now.’

  Richard was surprised. ‘That’s illegal. Some would even say an act of treason!’ He saw the significance of his words was not lost on them.

  His father pushed back his chair and loosened his tunic. ‘I warned the council the Percy family’s actions were disloyal. The king wasn’t minded to do anything about it. I was able to persuade them to order Sir Thomas Percy and his men to help defend the Duchy of Guyenne. As you know, he simply ignored the command.’

  Richard remembered. This was not the first time he’d heard the story. A weak king was one thing, although for him to back the Percy family was cause for concern. ‘Now Guyenne is now lost to the French, so he could be accused of treason?’

  His father scowled. ‘There was a time he’d have been thrown in the Tower for that, waiting to lose his head.’

  Richard turned to look at his brother John. ‘Weren’t you also summoned to go to Guyenne?’

  His brother looked flustered and clearly didn’t want to answer in front of his father, so Richard turned to Thomas. ‘I’m sorry your wedding has turned into such a complicated situation. I hope you understand why I needed to be in Wales? Edmund Beaufort is doing his best to make trouble for me and I won’t let him get away with it.’

  Richard’s father poured himself another generous goblet of wine. ‘We were more than a match for them, Richard, even without your men. A typical Percy bluff. They didn’t dare to take us on.’

  ‘Now our family name is at stake.’ Richard leaned forward in his chair and looked across the table at his brother John. ‘And you’ve already started defending our honour. I’ve heard you were going to hang some of Percy’s tenants?’

  John now looked defensive. ‘A threat. I wouldn’t have actually hung anyone. They were hiding Thomas Percy, or at least they knew where he was. ’

  Richard shook his head. ‘That kind of thing doesn’t help our position, John. What about that business at Catton House? It sounded like a drunken brawl. Did you have to smash all his windows?’

  ‘Richard Percy’s men came after our bailiff at Staincliffe while he was in church. We think they have him held prisoner somewhere, that’s if they haven’t murdered him already.’

  ‘Are you sure of that?’

  Once again John was silent and Richard realised he mustn’t be too hard on his brother. He was falling right into the Percy’s clever trap. They knew exactly how to provoke John into giving him all the proof they needed to turn people against the Nevilles and into Percy supporters.

  George spoke for the first time. ‘We can’t allow ourselves to be drawn into a fight. What we need is a truce.’

  His brothers looked at him in surprise. There was assertiveness in his voice that silenced them. George had always been the quiet one yet now he spoke like a man who should be listened to.

  His father nodded. ‘You are right, George. A truce would make things much easier for me at the Royal Council. The question is how?’

  Richard answered. ‘We’ll have to muster as many men as they have, more if we can. I’ll need time.’ He did a quick mental calculation. ‘I can call on five or six thousand men. I will have to pay them well. At least we don’t need to go around the streets of York recruiting drunks and beggars to our cause.’

  Thomas sat up in his chair and looked interested. ‘Then what?’

  Richard’s father answered for him. ‘We make a show of strength, so we can talk and remind them we, at least, honour our truce.’

  John finally spoke. ‘So your plan is that we are simply going to let them off, after all they’ve said and done to damage our family name?’

  Richard shook his head. ‘No.’ He stood up and walked over to the door, opening it to make sure no one was listening, then closed it and returned to his seat. ‘What I’m going to tell you is a great secret. You understand our lives could depend on keeping it so?’

  They all looked at him, waiting to see what he was going to say.

  ‘I have a trusted man in the household of Edmund Beaufort, Duke of Somerset. I pay him well to keep me informed of the duke’s plans and he knows to learn what he can of the goings on at court. Through him I’ve recently learned the king is gravely ill. He has fallen into a strange stupor from which his physicians fear he might never recover.’ He looked at their faces, enjoying the power his knowledge gave him for a moment. ‘T
he queen hopes to keep it secret for as long as she can, of course. It would never do if the people knew they had a madman on the throne.’

  There was a long silence as the implication of Richard’s news sank in.

  Richard’s father was the first to speak. ‘Who is going to act as Protector?’

  ‘Well, certainly not the Duke of Somerset, if there is anything I can do about it!’

  Thomas was curious. ‘Who then?’

  Richard poured more wine into his goblet and raised it in the air. ‘I would like to propose our uncle. Richard Plantagenet, the Duke of York, as Protector of England.’

  Richard rode at his father’s side as they arrived at Sandy Hutton. Both were on imposing black war horses and dressed in full battle armour, wearing the Neville colours. There were more men than any of them could have hoped, as in addition to the sizeable army of retainers who had marched from the Warwick estates, his father’s allies had turned out in force to support the Neville family. His sister Alice’s husband, Baron Henry Fitzhugh and his brother-in-law, Baron John le Scrope of Bolton, had swelled their numbers close to ten thousand, more than they expected the Percy family could ever hope to muster.

  The site for the muster had been chosen after much discussion. Close to York and within easy reach of their castle at Sheriff Hutton, yet far enough from the Percy stronghold at Topcliffe to avoid the risk of direct confrontation. On rising ground and surrounded by open fields, it would be impossible for them to be approached from any direction undetected. They were fortunate with the long hot summer, as the ground was baked hard and dry. Sandy Hutton was so named because of the sandy soil, which made it easy to build defensive ditches and plant sharpened stakes. Richard hoped none of it would be needed. At least it kept the men occupied.

  Although his father was in overall command, Richard had taken care of the detailed planning, which was more of a challenge than he expected. He had plenty of experience of looking after smaller numbers of men as Warden of West March and the principles were the same, although the scale of this was entirely different. He had needed to arrange for a second army of cooks and bakers to make sure there was enough food for so many hungry soldiers. An entire field had been set aside as a makeshift kitchen, with stoves and open fires already burning.