Warwick: The Man Behind The Wars of the Roses

by Tony Riches

  Richard brought his horse alongside King Henry and tried to calm him. He was concerned that despite Henry’s obviously poor mental condition, there were still plenty of Londoners who would be loyal to the old King, many believing that he had been ordained by God. They were no longer jeering at King Henry and Richard knew how easily they could be incited to rescue him. He was fairly confident his guards would be able to ensure the king’s safety, but it would be a disaster if he was seen to have mishandled the simple task of returning the king safely to London.

  A man at the back of the crowd shouted. ‘God save the king!’

  Henry continued, louder this time, seeming to find new energy from the way he was drawing more attention from the crowd. ‘His father, my grandfather, was king before him. I was crowned almost in my cradle!’ His voice faltered and he spoke more quietly now, a note of sadness in his voice. ‘I was accepted as king by the whole realm. I wore the crown for nearly forty years. Every lord swearing homage and fealty to me, as they had done to my forefathers.’

  The king’s sudden new-found spirit vanished as soon as it had come and Richard signalled to the guards, who rode up and surrounded the king, almost cutting him off from public view with their black warhorses. They were not far from the Tower. He looked into the crowd and realised they were now less certain. He suspected that the king’s outburst would now be the talk of London, repeated in all the taverns and bawdy houses. Word of this was bound to reach the royal circle and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

  Richard forced himself to smile at the crowd as they continued on their way, appearing more confident than he felt. He laughed when a woman started shouting about Queen Margaret being a harlot as the procession passed. King Henry just rode in silence, apparently oblivious of what was happening around him. Richard felt some relief when the familiar sight of the Tower of London came into view and he could hand over his prisoner to the Captain of the Guard.

  He looked at the king and felt a sudden pang of compassion for the man as he was untied from his mount and led off by two burly yeomen of the Tower to his place of imprisonment. He noticed Luke Tully was also watching with a look of concern.

  ‘You are wondering why he has to be locked up in the Tower?’

  ‘It does seem harsh, my lord.’

  ‘It’s partly for his safety,’ He looked around to make sure he couldn’t be overheard, ‘and as surety against Queen Margaret having ideas about raising another army.’

  ‘Do you think that likely, my lord?’

  ‘She has a son, Prince Edward. What mother would not do everything in her power to ensure her son has his rightful inheritance?’

  Tully looked back to where King Henry had been led away. ‘I can’t help wondering how things would be if he had a little of his father’s spirit.’

  ‘I’ll see to it that he is well treated. I suspect he hardly knows what is going on. It will be interesting to know who visits him and why.’

  They watched until the king disappeared from view then Richard went in search of Edward. He found him alone in his private rooms in the Palace of Westminster. The guard on the door tried to refuse him entry, then relented under Richard’s stern order to stand aside. Another sign of how things were already changing under the influence of the new Queen Elizabeth.

  This was Richard’s first opportunity for a long time to speak to the king without Elizabeth being present. The room was in semi darkness, lit only by large candles which flickered in the still air as Richard walked past. Edward sat alone at the head of a heavy oak table. Richard immediately realised why the guard had not welcomed him. Edward had been drinking.

  Edward raised his goblet. ‘Richard, you’ve come to celebrate with me.’ He looked around for a second goblet.

  Richard glanced at the almost empty bottle of red wine on the table. ‘I’ll not join you in a drink, thank you, Edward.’ He pulled up a chair and regarded the king he had worked so hard for. ‘You will be pleased to know that there was little support for Henry as we rode through London.’

  ‘And now he’s safely in the Tower?’

  ‘Yes. It will give Queen Margaret something to think about, now you have him in your keeping.’

  ‘You think she is still plotting against us, after everything that has happened?’

  ‘I do, Edward. While her son lives, she will want to see him on the throne. She is a determined woman, despite all the setbacks she has suffered.’

  Edward poured himself more of the dark red wine while Richard watched. He could smell the faint aroma of it, reminding him of happier times. He wondered if this was the time to mention his plans for a peace treaty with France.

  ‘I have resolved to return to Calais, with your consent, to nurture your interests in France.’

  Edward took a sip from his wine and looked at him questioningly. ‘To see your friend King Louis?’

  ‘Of course.’ Richard guessed from his tone that Edward was up to something.

  ‘I’ve heard that Louis wishes you to rebel against me.’

  Richard caught his breath. The king was in a dangerous mood.

  He decided not to over react. ‘You have been misinformed.’

  ‘Maybe I have.’ Edward looked at him, as if making a judgement. ‘I don’t need you to prove your loyalty to me, Richard. I know you have always put my best interests before anything else.’

  Richard relaxed a little. ‘I believe I can secure a peace treaty with King Louis. As well as stopping him from supporting the Lancastrians, we could improve our trade with France.’

  Edward shook his head. ‘The thing is, Richard.’ He took another generous drink from his goblet, seeming to enjoy having the advantage over Richard. ‘The thing is I don’t trust the man. I don’t like him. Never did.’

  Richard had heard it all before, several times. He knew better than to try to persuade Edward. It wasn’t necessary to like the French King to secure a treaty with him. The problem was the Burgundians. He still had reliable sources at court who informed him of Edward’s meetings with ambassadors from Burgundy. If news of this reached King Louis it could put an end to the treaty.

  Edward continued. ‘There is also the question of my sister Margaret. She is nineteen and needs a husband worthy of the house of York. It would suit me if she was to wed Charles, Count of Charolais.’

  Richard was shocked. All the work he had done to win over King Louis would be undone, yet he had to admit he could see how Edward’s plan could work. Charles would soon inherit Burgundy from his ailing father. He had almost married Margaret of York previously, only being prevented from doing so by the Treaty of Troyes.

  ‘You are too late, Edward. Charles of Burgundy has married Countess Isabella.’

  Edward looked scornful. ‘You know as well as I do that she is on her deathbed. I’ve been reliably informed that she is not expected to last another month.’

  Richard saw a possibility. ‘Louis would use such a marriage as reason to side with Lancaster. Queen Margaret has been to see him several times to ask for money to fund her campaign. I understand why you would have your sister marry Charles of Burgundy. We have to keep Louis on our side.’

  ‘I think he’ll support the Lancastrians anyway. You’ll be wasting your time trying to persuade him otherwise.’

  ‘All I ask is your consent to try.’ Richard looked imploringly at Edward. ‘You have nothing to lose if I fail and everything to gain if I succeed.’

  Edward sat back heavily in his chair, causing it to scrape on the tiled floor. ‘You always had a way with words, Richard. If anyone can match King Louis it is you.’

  Richard wasn’t sure if Edward meant it as a compliment or an insult and decided to change the subject. ‘There is one other thing I would ask of you, Edward.’

  The king sat in his chair. ‘What is that?’

  ‘My daughter Isabel is fourteen years old now.’ He looked at Edward, trying to judge his mood. ‘I thought that George would be an ideal suitor for her.’

 
Edward looked surprised. ‘My brother?’ Edward was condescending. ‘And young Richard for your daughter Anne, I suppose?’

  Richard held his ground. ‘They are cousins, as you know. It would need a special dispensation from the Pope.’

  Edward turned on him angrily. ‘I forbid it. Do you hear, Richard? I absolutely forbid it!’

  Chapter 21 - Spring 1466

  Richard returned to Calais after a difficult year doing his best to reconcile his differences with the king in London. He had tried to set aside his distrust of the Woodville family, knowing he had to make the best of Edward’s choice, and made a point of being seen to publicly support the new queen. She was an attractive woman and genuinely attentive to him, listening carefully to his views and opinions. As with her father and brother, Richard respected her abilities, so it had not been too difficult to forget how she had spoiled his plans.

  He could also see Elizabeth had done nothing in protecting and promoting the interests of her family he would not have done himself. The new queen was a steadying influence on Edward, turning a blind eye to his amorous liaisons when necessary and playing her part as his queen, bringing more modern thinking to the royal court. Edward had been appreciative and asked Richard to act as godfather to his new daughter, who he had named Elizabeth, after her mother. He even stood in for Edward at Elizabeth’s side at the churching banquet, which tradition dictated the king could not attend.

  Richard’s brother George had finally been made Archbishop of York and Chancellor of England. They ensured the event was used to remind people of the undiminished importance of the Neville family. No less than twenty-eight peers, fifty-nine knights, ten abbots and seven bishops attended the ceremony. There was a great banquet with thousands of roasted pigeons, served with exotic cranes and peacocks, as well as four hundred swans and six bulls roasted whole. The feasting was the talk of the country, as was the fact that the king and his new queen were noticeable by their absence.

  The early spring sunshine and chill sea air of the English Channel were refreshing after the often tense atmosphere of the Woodville court, as Richard now thought of it. He’d been looking forward to returning to Calais after a longer than expected absence and hoped to finally prepare the way for a peace treaty with France. His family sailed with him, as well as his servants and Luke Tully, with men of his personal guard.

  He complained to Anne on the evening of their arrival. ‘I am in charge of foreign policy, yet right in the middle of my negotiations with King Louis, Edward tells me I have to entertain Charles of Burgundy.’ He felt the now familiar sense of irritation. ‘Edward does test my loyalty to him at times.’

  Anne was conciliatory. ‘I know you have high regard for King Louis.’ She frowned. ‘Is it impossible for you to establish some compromise with Charles of Burgundy?’

  Richard was pacing the room to help himself think. He stopped and turned to her.

  ‘If I do, it could compromise my understanding with King Louis.’

  ‘What are you going to do, Richard?’

  ‘I plan to see what I can make of negotiations with the French.’

  Anne looked concerned. ‘Is it a good idea to confront Edward? You could be playing right into the hands of our enemies at court.’

  ‘He has no idea how much work it has been to secure peace with France.’

  ‘I think he does.’ Anne frowned. ‘Queen Elizabeth’s mother, Countess Rivers, openly supports the Burgundians. They turned up in force to her coronation.’

  Richard sat heavily in his chair. ‘My information is that Philip of Burgundy is not expected to live much longer.’ He rubbed his eyes, feeling tired from the journey.’ I also know that Charles is still aggrieved because I tried to put a French Princess on the English throne.’

  ‘Charles will see it differently now, if he is married to Edward’s sister?’

  Richard could feel his anger rising. ‘The man is a Lancastrian supporter. He is friends with Henry Beaufort and openly assists Margaret of Anjou!’ He stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him. The noise echoed down the corridor of the old castle. As he passed the guards they were careful not to make eye contact.

  He made his way to the castle balcony, a favourite spot he went to when he needed to think. It had been built above the state rooms to allow splendid views of the estuary and on a clear day, the white cliffs of Dover. The late summer sunset now turned the entire landscape a shimmering golden pink. A single sailing ship made its way up the Channel, the sails full despite the light breeze. Richard identified the ship as a merchantman and watched as it sailed past Calais. Sometimes he wished he could have had a simpler life, like the captain of the merchantman, plying his trade without any concern for the frustrating politics of the English court.

  He heard soft footsteps behind him and turned to see Anne. She put her arm around his waist and stood at his side in silence, watching the sun descend towards the western horizon. Richard put his arm around her, pulling her closer. They had almost been living separate lives in London, as he went early to Westminster, often returning late and tired. The warmth of her body felt good. Anne’s waist was a little broader from fine living in London, yet he still found her attractive, even though she was now turning forty.

  He turned to her. ‘I’ve been thinking about our daughters. Isabel is fifteen now.’

  Anne looked up at him. ‘We need to decide soon. Our new queen has been busy marrying her family to the most eligible bachelors in the country.’

  Richard’s new plan formed in his mind. He had a different perspective on England from this side of the Channel and needed to start putting his own interests first. His influence had been so rapidly eroded by Edward’s marriage into the Woodville family there was almost a danger he would become an irrelevance, the many sacrifices he had made for the house of York soon forgotten. Decisive action was needed. He was still one of the wealthiest men in the country and had two beautiful and marriageable daughters.

  ‘Edward himself argued he should be allowed to marry who he pleased.’ He watched Anne’s reaction as he spoke.

  Anne looked thoughtful. ‘We would have to be careful. It would mean going directly against Edward’s wishes.’

  Richard looked out across the familiar estuary. The sun finally set below the distant horizon, replaced by the light of a luminous new moon shimmering on the tranquil sea. As he watched, stars began to shine brightly in the dark sky. There were just a few at first, then the whole sky seemed full of their twinkling light. He wasn’t superstitious, yet it seemed a good omen of the need to change.

  ‘I would have to sound George out in secret.’

  ‘What do you think he’ll say?’

  Richard was certain. ‘George will agree to marry Isabel. Her inheritance would completely change his standing at court. He is the male heir to the throne after Edward.’

  ‘Only while Elizabeth fails to provide Edward with a son and heir.’

  Richard didn’t answer. It saddened him to think they would probably never have the son he’d always longed for. When he promised his father an heir he imagined he would have plenty of healthy sons, yet since his daughter Anne there had been no sign of another child. It had unquestionably put a strain on their relationship, although he was starting to accept it now he had other things to worry about.

  Anne broke the silence. ‘From what I’ve seen of George he seems a likeable young man, although he does have something of a reputation.’

  ‘George, Duke of Clarence is ambitious, opinionated, yet discontented despite all his wealth and the lands in the West Country the king has given him. He reminds me a little of myself at seventeen.’

  Anne smiled at the memory. ‘God help us all.’

  Richard studied the tersely worded summons from Edward and feared the worst. The king had signed it personally and it bore the royal seal. No reason was given, only that a most urgent matter required him to attend the king’s presence with utmost haste. The problem was that Richard could think o
f many ways in which he could have earned the king’s displeasure. He knew that despite the efforts he had made to publicly and privately accept Elizabeth as his queen, the Rivers family bore a grudge against him that went back many years.

  He recalled the coolness with which Lord Rivers had handed over Calais to him and the outrage when he had been captured at Sandwich in his bed, to be paraded before the townspeople. Now he had been made Earl Rivers, as well as being appointed Treasurer of England and was in a position, through his daughter Elizabeth, to exact his revenge. As he rode towards Westminster Richard guessed it would be Elizabeth’s way to take it slowly, seeing it as her duty to her family, a matter of defending her father’s honour.

  Richard felt a chill shiver at the back of his neck as he realised the summons could be about his letter to King Louis of France. He had taken an unnecessary risk, sending a letter to Louis without Edward’s knowledge. As well as promising that England would not invade France, the letter expressed support for the quashing of an uprising in Normandy by Louis. Richard now regretted ever writing the letter, penned in a moment of anger at Edward’s interference with his negotiations.

  Although he could always deny what had been said in discussions, to deliberately misrepresent the king in writing was quite a different matter. He worried the letter would surface in the future. In the wrong hands it could be used to do him great harm. Even the usually tolerant Edward could be persuaded that such a letter was firm evidence of treason.

  Word could have already reached Edward about his unsatisfactory meeting with Charles, Duke of Charolais. At Edward’s insistence, Richard had ridden from Calais to Burgundy to meet the young duke and discuss the prospect of marriage to Edward’s sister Margaret. Charles was dismissive and confrontational and the meeting had ended in heated arguments about Richard’s promises to King Louis.

  Another worrying possibility was that young George, Duke of Clarence, had already betrayed his trust and failed to keep their discussion confidential. George had a problem showing proper discretion, particularly when he had been drinking. He could well have been bragging about how the Earl of Warwick had offered his eldest daughter’s hand in marriage. Richard appealed to George’s jealousy of his elder brother. He pointed out that Edward forbade their marriage because he didn’t want George to have the power that came with the Neville fortune.