By Loyalty Bound: The Story of the Mistress of King Richard III (25 page)

“Then all seems well,” said Richard, waving the earl to a seat by the fire and his knights to their duties. Robert went to discover the whereabouts of the bed and to check that the men in the camp had food enough for themselves and their horses. Diccon and Earl Rivers seemed convivial enough despite James’ dour warnings and he would be glad of his own bed; he was tired and his leg was aching.

Robert stifled a yawn as he waited. The duke had been deep in conversation with Earl Rivers all evening and he was relieved when, at last, the earl begged leave to go to his bed. Richard wished him a good night and Robert watched as he swept on his cloak and ducked out under the low lintel to walk to his own chambers at a nearby inn.

They were halfway up the stairs to their own beds when they heard another group of horsemen arrive outside. Robert paused, wondering if it was God’s will that he should get no rest at all that night.

“Your Grace,” said his brother James, coming in from the courtyard. “The Duke of Buckingham has arrived.”

Robert followed the duke back down the stairs as Buckingham came in. He was a tall, broad shouldered man with a regal bearing that betrayed his own royal blood and he made Diccon look small as he stood beside him.

“Do you have custody of the king?” asked Buckingham without any preamble.

Robert watched Buckingham’s face twitch with anxiety as Richard explained the circumstances.

“Your Grace,” said Buckingham, “I fear that there is a plot afoot.”

The two men drew back into the parlour and Robert sighed as he realised that his bedtime was postponed once more. Buckingham called for food and wine and more logs for the fire and Richard settled himself at the table to hear what he had to say.

“Truth is that Rivers delays you here as a snare,” he told him as Robert stood guard with his back to the door. “Richard Grey is instructed to ride with the king at first light and escort him into London without you. In fact, my spy tells me that it is Rivers’ intention that you never reach the city at all, but meet with some accident along the way.”

Richard stared at the man and Robert could see that he was weighing this new information and wondering who to believe. After a moment he beckoned to him.

“Robert, arrange for men to be posted at the door of the chamber of Earl Rivers. He is not to be allowed to leave. And post men on the road between here and Stony Stratford so that no message can be taken there. We will err on the side of caution,” he said, “and I pray that tomorrow may prove you misinformed my lord Buckingham.”

At last they went to their beds and Robert, on a pallet at the Duke of Gloucester’s door, felt as if he had only fallen asleep moments ago when he was wakened by his brother James shaking his shoulder.

“It’s dawn,” he told him.

Shaking off the befuddledness of sleep, Robert recalled the previous evening and as his senses came into focus he checked that his sword still lay beside him. Talk of a plot against the duke could not be dismissed as an idle threat. For all his apparent friendliness Robert would not have been surprised if the Earl Rivers did plan to thwart them. He had the sly look of someone who would flatter you whilst thrusting an unseen dagger between your ribs.

The duke was awake and judging by the dark rings beneath his eyes had not slept well. Robert poured some ale and handed it to him as he sat on the edge of his bed dressed only in his shirt and braes.

“Send men to ensure the horses are ready. We will ride on to Stony Stratford to greet the king,” he told him. “I pray that Buckingham is mistaken in his talk of plots. Rivers was congenial enough last night. I do not know who to believe.” He scratched his head as he stood and reached for his clothing. “But I do not like to think of our young king in the hands of such rogues as ruined my brother’s health,” he said as he pulled on his hose.

The air was still chilly as they took the well-guarded road in the company of the Duke of Buckingham. The birds sang in chorus, hidden amongst the leafy trees on either side of them, but the sound did not bring any joy to Robert’s heart. His eyes flitted past the branches, searching for any sign of trouble, as he wondered what the day would bring.

Coming into Stony Stratford they were confronted by the sight of a young man with reddish hair under a feathered cap. He sat astride a gleaming grey with a confusion of attendants and armed men around him, obviously prepared to leave at any moment. The boy glanced towards them and his frightened eyes dwelt for a moment on the Duke of Gloucester who flung down from his horse, pulled his hat from his head and went to kneel before him.

“Your Majesty. Please know I am profoundly grieved by the death of your father, my own brother, and that I am your loyal subject and diligent protector.”

Robert watched as the Duke of Buckingham, a little more reluctantly, uncovered his head and knelt to the king. Young Edward looked from them to his own attendants as if unsure what to do and, in accordance with the duke’s instructions, Robert signalled his men to step forward and surround both Thomas Vaughn and Richard Grey. The king looked alarmed at this turn of events and his anxious gaze returned to the two men kneeling on the ground before his horse.

“What do you mean to do?” he demanded.

“These men are those who brought about the demise of your father. They were the companions who ruined his health,” said Richard as he got to his feet and laid a hand on the horse’s rein. “They will be removed from your side. A king so young as you cannot govern a great realm with the advice of such men. I am better able to discharge the duties of government on your behalf.”

“But these are the ministers my father gave me,” argued the boy. “I believe that they are good and faithful and I have seen no evil in them. I have complete confidence in them and my mother the queen.”

“It is not the business of women to govern kingdoms,” interrupted the Duke of Buckingham. “Besides the queen and her kin have plotted against your uncle and conspired his death. It is known that they mean to deprive you of the Lord Protector conferred upon you by your late father’s will. Relinquish your confidence in them and place your hope in those of noble blood.”

The young king shifted nervously in his saddle and looked as if he might cry. It was clear that the men under the command of Gloucester and Buckingham far outnumbered his own escort and he had no choice but to yield. Eventually he gave a reluctant nod and Richard remounted his horse and ordered the king’s escort to their own homes, on pain of death. Then the company turned and rather than entering the city of London they rode back to Northampton.

At table that evening Richard pointed to a dish of sauced chicken that had been placed beside him. “Robert, take that dish to Earl Rivers in his chamber and bid him not to be fearful. Tell him all will be well.”

“Yes, my lord,” he replied, but as he crossed the street to where the earl was kept under close guard he wondered if this matter could be resolved without bloodshed. Diccon was determined to rule as Lord Protector, but it seemed that the queen and her kin were equally resolved to prevent him and to keep control of the king themselves.

In the chamber he presented the dish to the earl and repeated the message.

“Take it to Richard Grey,” said Rivers. “He is young and has never known imprisonment before. His need of comfort is greater than mine.”

Anne was in the garden at Stanley House, watching the spring sunshine catch the ripples on the river, when she heard the raised voices and went inside to discover what was amiss. Lord Stanley glared at her as she came in and then stalked out, beckoning his elder son, Lord Strange, to accompany him.

“What’s wrong?” Anne asked her husband.

“The Duke of Gloucester has had Earl Rivers arrested.”

“Whatever for?”

“Plotting his death.”

“Where is Richard now?” asked Anne, fearful for him.

“Still at Northampton. The queen has been trying to rally support amongst the nobles, my father included, but he is reluctant to take sides just yet.”

“But he must support Richard in this,” she said, although she knew that the old disagreements still rankled between them.

Next morning news came that the queen, having heard that not only Earl Rivers but her son Richard Grey and Sir Thomas Vaughn had also been arrested, had fled from the palace with her children into sanctuary at Westminster Abbey, taking with her such a large amount of furniture and treasures that a wall had been dismantled to move it all in. The whole of the city had been transformed from its shocked silence at the death of a king into a hubbub of rumour and speculation as everyone from the highest to the lowest of its citizens exchanged views on what they thought would happen next.

On the Sunday, after they had heard mass in the Stanley chapel, Anne put on a cloak borrowed from a maidservant and went with her husband to stand near the Bishopsgate to watch the entry of the king into London. Lord Stanley and the Countess of Richmond had been summoned to take the oath of fealty, but Edward and Anne had not been bidden and had decided to join the crowds gathered to watch as the mayor and aldermen, all dressed in scarlet and accompanied by hundreds of horsemen, rode out under the tall gatehouse to welcome the king.

Anne followed her husband as he forged a path through the gathered Londoners. Despite their disguises they were easily recognised as nobility and people stepped back, albeit amidst much grumbling, to allow them through. Over the sound of the ringing church bells, Anne heard a rumbling in the distance and stood on tiptoe to see what was approaching. Four carts, piled high with barrels filled with weaponry, rolled by. They all bore the Woodville coat of arms and as people around her began to mutter, she posed the same question.

“Why are there weapons in the king’s procession?” she asked. Edward shook his head and Anne, worried now, craned her neck as the king’s escort came into view. She was relieved to see amongst the array of fluttering flags many of murrey and blue with the emblem of the white boar.

Anne felt a ripple of pride as she caught sight of Richard. He was dressed from head to toe in black and rode alongside the young king who was dressed in blue velvet. With them she recognised the Duke of Buckingham and Uncle Robert, who didn’t see her despite her frantic waving as he passed.

Even from this distance Anne could see the serious expression on Richard’s face as he bade the crowd, “Behold, your prince and sovereign!” But it was nothing compared to the sulky set of the king’s young face as he rode by. It should have been one of the most exciting days of his life but he looked stubborn and angry.

“These weapons you see paraded before you were taken from the Woodvilles who intended to attack the Lord Protector as he approached the city,” proclaimed a crier as he passed by. There were murmurings of disbelief from the crowd, and many muttered that the weapons were most likely the ones that had been gathered to wage war on the Scots. And others remarked that if someone had intended to ambush Gloucester wouldn’t they have been wearing the armour rather than having it bound up in barrels.

“I fear that things will not be easy for our new Lord Protector,” said Edward as they watched the tail end of the procession turn towards St Paul’s. Anne agreed. Those who were close to the queen would not be content to sit back and allow Richard to take control of the country.

Next morning Edward went out onto the streets to hear what people were saying, and when he returned he told her that most of them seemed to be of the opinion that the Duke of Gloucester had done the right thing and that he was the best person to take charge until the king was old enough to rule. Lord Stanley seemed in agreement too, although Anne never heard what was said during the clandestine meetings with the men who began to frequent Stanley House. One she recognised as Lord Hastings and others, her husband told her, were Bishop Morton and Archbishop Rotherham of York. They talked together in private with Lord Stanley, and Anne could not help but wonder where his true allegiance lay.

Lord Stanley went off to a council meeting on the tenth day of May and returned to tell them that after much discussion about finding a more suitable place for the young king to dwell than the bishop’s palace at St Paul’s, the Duke of Buckingham had recommended that he take up residence in the royal apartments at the Tower of London.

“And Richard of Gloucester has been officially recognised as Lord Protector of England and now holds the power to order and forbid in every matter just like any other king,” he said with a stony face.

It appeared that the crisis was over, thought Anne, yet Earl Rivers, Richard Grey and Thomas Vaughn remained prisoners at different castles in the north and the queen still refused to come out of sanctuary with the king’s brother and his sisters.

On Friday, the thirteenth day of the month of June 1483, Anne was working on a piece of embroidery in the solar at the back of the house when she heard a disturbance in the hall and was alarmed to see armed men under the command of Uncle Robert escorting Lord Stanley inside. His head was swathed in a bandage and the Countess of Richmond was crying hysterically at the sight of him.

“Pray be silent woman!” shouted her uncle as the countess’s wailing echoed all around. “Your husband is alive, which is more than can be said for the other traitor!”

“Help me,” moaned Lord Stanley as he raised a hand to his head where blood was seeping through the cloths. Seeing that the countess was too distraught to be of any practical use Anne took her father-in-law’s arm and helped him to a chair by the hearth where he shivered despite it being a hot summer’s day.

“Bring more logs for the fire,” she told a wide-eyed servant before looking back at her uncle, whose face betrayed contempt rather than any concern for his prisoner.

“Will someone silence that woman!” he shouted as the countess’s voice rose to a screeching pitch.

Anne was unsure which of the Stanleys needed her comfort more and was glad when two of the countess’s women came rushing to take her by the hand and persuade her to sit down and be quiet.